bones || making boogie cry pt 2/????
There wasn’t any money left. None. Nothing. Zilch, even. Jude’s part-time job hardly earned him enough to pay rent, even though he worked 5 days a week. He was exhausted, he couldn’t keep working, caring for his mum and going to school. Months ago, he’d accepted that he’d likely have to drop out, even though he was only a few months away from graduating. In a few months, he and his unstable mother would likely be homeless, that was how he rationalised the prospect of not getting a high school diploma. His aunt, recently made redundant, was no longer in a position to donate what she could to them any week, especially when she had her own kids. Jude envied his cousins, his aunt was a harsh woman but at least she was capable of being a mother. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to think like that.
Jude rolled his eyes at the note and shot an ‘are you kidding me?’ look at his friend, Luke. Everybody knew Luke, Luke was that guy. Wanna go to a party this weekend? Luke can give you a list of them. Need a guy to sell you some ‘stuff’ for this party? Luke can give you a list of them. Jude had known him since middle school; he was surprised that they were still friends now, considering Luke spent his weekends getting wasted, while Jude spent his weekends trying to fall asleep behind the counter at the gas station he worked at.
my shift doesn’t end until 1am you fucktard
Jude dropped the note onto Luke’s lap and tapped his pen on the desk anxiously. Why was he even here? Not only did he hate maths class but it wasn’t like he was going to be there for much longer. Another note dropped into his lap before the bell sounded and the class promptly dismissed themselves, ignoring the teacher halfheartedly calling them back.
come by whenever ― I got an idea your goin to hate love
At 1am, Jude clocked out with the intentions of going straight home. He was exhausted, he’d gone straight to the gas station from school and he hadn’t eaten since Luke made him take half of his sandwich at lunch. He stuffed his payslip into his jacket pocket, frowning when he another god damn note well out of the same pocket.
jade wilkes’s house when you finish your stupid job. be there or be square you fag
Luke had put that there on purpose, now there was no way of Jude using the ‘well you didn’t tell me where to go’ excuse. Jude was smart but he was a terrible liar ― like, the worst. He was sure whatever Luke’s idea was, it was probably incredibly lame. Jude didn’t see the harm in dropping by to humor him, it was on the way home so he may as well (trusting that his POS car could handle the journey).
Jude parked a few blocks from Jade Wilkes’ house, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was actually going to go in but also because he didn’t want people trying to break into his car ― like last time. He walked into the house with his head down, trying not to draw attention to himself but also looking for Luke. He knew a few of the people he passed, none of them he was really friendly with. There was music blaring and someone had brought an over-sized disco ball, which sat in the living room and illuminated rotating, multi-coloured circles on the walls. The air was thick with smoke, Jude couldn’t quite tell if it was more cigarette or marijuana.
“Jude!” An arm circled tightly around his neck and almost pulled him over. Jude stumbled but went with it, his own arm hanging loosely over Luke’s shoulders. “What was with the hold-up, man? You should’ve been here hours ago.” Luke was drunk, Jude could tell because he was being so ‘hands on’ but other than that you’d never know. He wasn’t even slurring his words, he could probably talk himself out of DUI.
“Some of us have jobs, asshat.” Luke ignored Jude and guided him through the house, a house too big for three people. Jade Wilkes’ life seemed even more tragic than his own, his father worked abroad, her mum popped pills and they’d been in marriage counselling for years because they were both addicted to having affairs. Honestly, it made Jude feel a little better about his own situation. As they progressed through the house, Luke greeted various people that Jude didn’t know and took sips from random drinks he found. Jude felt he should point out that he was probably drugged by now, although he could already see Luke ignoring that. “So what’s the idea?” Jude asked as Luke handed him a beer, which was thankfully unopened.
“Huh? ― Oh, yeah!” Luke made a quick turn and almost stumbled as they started down the stairs into the basement, which Jude then learned was the main source of the smokey air ― definitely marijuana. The basement looking like a kind of den, there was an old TV and mismatched couches, along with two mini fridges. Other than a couple making out on one of the couches, they were alone and the music was much less deafening from where they were.
“Is this the part where you confess your true feelings for me and try to make me drunk make out with you?” Luke snorted and shoved Jude, flopping down onto one of the couches.
“Yeah, you wish,” he scoffed. Luke rolled a joint, taking his time to the point where Jude became agitated and impatient. He wished he could be one of those people that stayed at house parties until the early hours of the morning but the fact was he wasn’t, he didn’t know how long his cousin would be willing to watch his mum for him. “So, I know this guy...” Luke said as he lit the joint, taking a drag before passing it over to Jude, “...says he’s seen you around, knows you’re about as broke as you can be.” Jude tensed, he didn’t talk about his money issues with anyone, not even Luke.
“So?” He asked, his voice harder than he’d intended.
“He said he’s got a job for you, he’ll pay you $500 up front for it ― in cash.” That could buy groceries for a month, was Jude’s first thought. His second was...
“I don’t fucking know.” Oh great. They probably wanted him to bury a body or hold a gun for them, it wouldn’t surprise Jude in a place like this. “He said he’d be here if you’re interested. Tall guy, looks like a greyhound, very Russian, you can’t miss him.” What the hell was this? Jude took a last drag from the joint and placed it on the edge of an ashtray. Luke was getting to that stage of his drunkenness where he was going to fall asleep, Jude quickly made him drink some water and made him lie on his side on the couch.
When he was confident that Luke wasn’t going to choke on his own vomit, in his sleep, Jude ventured back upstairs. He was confident that whatever this guy was about, it was a waste of time, even though he could really use $500. Jude wandered around for a while, looking for the man matching the description Luke gave him. In the end, the man found him.
“You’re Jude.” A hand landed on Jude’s shoulder, he turned to see a stupidly tall man, who did indeed have a face like a greyhound. “You’re Luke’s friend. Did he tell you about me?” And very Russian. Jude nodded and tried to relax under the weight of the man’s hand, even though the fact that he was being lead outside immediately made him tense again. “I have a job for you,” the man said as he walked them outside, closing the glass doors behind them. Somebody had passed out next to the pool with a sombrero covering their face. They sat on adjacent sun loungers, the pool lights their only source of light in the back yard.
“Yeah, Luke told me. Listen, if this is something illegal―”
“How old are you?” Why was that relevant? Jude’s eyes narrowed and he shifted in his seat, his hands tucked deeply into his jacket pockets.
“Just turned 17.” The man smiled, it wasn’t a friendly smile, more like he was very pleased with himself.
“Then no, it’s not illegal.” That made Jude feel the exact opposite of assured. They talked for a while, Jude learned the man’s name was Malik, or at least that was the name he gave him. He still didn’t know what the job was and it didn’t feel legit, Jude was ready to say ‘thanks but fuck off’ and go back inside, until Malik presented him with a roll of notes. $500, cash, like Luke had said. “If you come with me right now then I’ll double it.” Jude followed Malik out of the house, forcing his brain to shut up as he got into the car with him. His own was still parked around the corner, he decided not to mention it because then he knew he’d decide to just go home. Whatever this was, it was sketchy and Jude wasn’t convinced that it was legal, whatever Malik told him. He hated that he needed money this badly, that he was forcing himself to get involved in whatever this was, just to make ends meet.
“Where are we going?” Jude asked, after they’d been driving for about 30 minutes. They weren’t in the suburbs anymore, travelling more into the heart of the city. If Jude knew Vegas, which he did, he’d say Malik was driving them to a not-so-nice part of town, which Jude only knew because it was a notorious shoot-out point with the Russian mafia and the motorcycle ‘club’.
“My friends house,” Malik said, parking in an alley, “It’s just another party.” Jude got out the car and followed Malik, his hands now at his sides in case he had to run. Malik turned and smiled at him warmly, changing his pace so Jude would walk in front of him; his hand sat heavily on his shoulder again. He was guided into an apartment block that looked a million miles away from the house they’d just been in; graffiti on the walls, waste and litter everywhere, not to mention the fact that the place stank of piss. They went up a couple flights on stairs and it took Jude a moment to notice that none of the apartments had doors on them and people were going between them freely. “My friend owns the building,” Malik informed him, as they reached the only apartment with a door on it. Malik pushed Jude inside.
For several confusing minutes, Malik conversed with three other men in Russian. Jude wished he understood what they were saying because it made him nervous, especially when the men looked him over like someone would a shop window. Suddenly, they were all nodding at each other and then dispersed, Malik barked what Jude could only assume was a name because a women with a blonde wig and messy, purple lipstick stomped into the room in heels that she couldn’t walk in.
“Niska will look after you,” Malik said, stuffing the second roll of bills into Jude’s pocket. He’d made $1000 dollars by doing nothing, he no longer felt he had the right to complain or ask questions. The woman ― Niska ― looked Jude over, holding his chin tightly in her small hand and examining his face.
“You have a very pretty face,” she told him, before reaching into her purse and pulling out what appeared to be breath spray. “Open your mouth, pretty boy.” Jude did what he was told, no longer questioning it. He regretted it because whatever Niska sprayed into his mouth, it wasn’t mint. “Give me your jacket, I’ll look after it.” Jude willingly slipped out of the jacket, everything starting to look a little hazy.
“What was that?” He asked, rolling his tongue around in his mouth, trying to evaluate the taste. “I don’t feel good.” Niska held his arms firmly and guided him into another apartment, more loud music and smoke filled air. Someone grabbed Jude’s chin and forced a drink down his throat ― vodka, what a fucking cliche, he thought.
“Just relax,” Niska said, she kept saying it over and over again even though Jude was almost completely lucid in her hold. Jude knew what was happening around him but he felt completely out of control of his own body. Hands grabbed at him, pulling and pushing him down onto furniture, grabbing his clothes and groping at his body. It didn’t feel right, none of it felt right.
He blacked out for a long time, slipping in and out of consciousness. At first he remembered nothing then everything at once; people ― men ― touching him, grabbing him, kissing him. The Jude in those memories wasn’t him, that Jude let it all happened but the real Jude knew why. He had money stuffed into his jeans, which were unbuttoned and halfway down his hips when he woke up. There was more wrapped up in his shirt like a parcel, which Jude found in a bedroom. He didn’t know if any of it really happened, the longer he was awake the more it became apparent that it did. In one of the bathrooms, Jude washed his face and looked at the marks on his skin; teeth, nails, lovebites all over him. He remembered receiving some of them, he remembered his over exaggerated moans because that was what the men wanted to hear. He felt sick.
“You’re new.” Jude jumped and spun around, staring at a guy about his age sprawled out, fully clothes, in the bath tub. “You make a lot of money?” He wasn’t Russian either, although his accent suggested that he definitely wasn’t from Vegas. New Jersey, perhaps.
“I don’t― I don’t remember what happened―”
“Ah shit, did they give you that spray? That’s pure molly, man, that stuff fucks you up for the entire night. Are you gonna throw up?” Jude nodded, the guy yanked him forward and Jude collapsed onto his knees, luckily directly over the toilet bowl. “Let it out, kiddo, let it all out,” he said, patting Jude on the back tentatively. It was then that Jude had spotted his shirt with the money stuffed into it. He remembered putting it there last night; in the midst of everything, he’d still been worried about the money.
When he felt better, Jude sat against the wall with his t-shirt gripped tightly in his hands. He was panting but he wasn’t sure why exactly, he was possibly having a panic attack. “What the fuck kind of place is this?” He asked, glancing around the bathroom as if it would offer some kind of answer. He felt disgusting, every part of him felt pained and used.
“Take a guess, compadre,” the guy said, sitting up and leaning over one side of the bathtub to look at Jude. “You remember how all the guys are Russian? They got this crazy mafia thing going on in Nevada―”
“Are they sex traffickers?” The question made the guy pause. So far, he’d seemed lighthearted and care free, as if this was an every day occurrence for him. It probably was, Jude looked at him and saw that he couldn’t be much older than himself, they may even be the same age since the blankness in his eyes aged him so dramatically.
“Something like that,” he finally said, “you want some gum?” Jude cleaned himself up a little, at one point bursting into tears because he felt so awful. The man he’d been talking to made Jude take a shower, he said it helped getting the feeling of them off you. Even after, when Jude had scrubbed his skin red raw, he felt dirty. “You got some place to go?” They were on the balcony of one of the apartments now, the man had been kind enough to roll Jude a cigarette, saying he looked like he needed one.
“Yeah. I dunno how I’m gonna get back there.” His car was still on the other side of the city, that is if it hadn’t been towed or stolen. It didn’t matter, that things days were numbered. “Where is this?”
“Who knows.” Jude got the distinct feeling that this man had been here for a while, that he’d been Jude at one point and now he didn’t have a way out. “This your first time here?” Jude nodded and flicked the end of his cigarette off the balcony. “Good. I don’t wanna see you back here again, you hear me?” He nodded again, looking at the man when he shoved Jude’s shoulder. “I mean it, kid, if I see you back here then I’ll beat your god damn lights out. This isn’t somewhere you wanna get sucked into. Go home. Go home.” They stared at each other for a second, understanding each other completely. He was telling Jude not to turn out like him and Jude was more than happy to oblige.
Back inside, Niska brought him his jacket and patted his cheek, telling him he did a really good job. That made Jude’s stomach lurch. Malik appeared and often to drive him back to his car, Jude didn’t see an alternative way of getting home. He was silent in the car, afraid that he’d say or do something regretted if he started speaking. “They liked you last night,” Malik said, “You did better than I thought you would. You’re very hostile.” Jude didn’t respond, his hands were clasped tightly in his lap to control the shaking.
“Nothing about last night was legal,” he finally said, his eyes staying fixed on whatever was out the window, “I’m not even of age, how do you know I’m not gonna go to the cops?” Another wad of bills fell into his lap, thicker than the previous two.
“I know your friend Luke and I know you need money. I know your mother is sick.” Jude snapped his gaze to Malik. In his mind, that was a threat. “The money you made last night will feed you and keep a roof over your head for over a month. You should be grateful.” Guilty swam in Jude’s stomach because he thought he should be grateful, when was he ever going to get the chance to make that much money again?
“I was drugged,” he spat. Malik sighed and nodded regretfully, just as they pulled into the street where Jude’s car was parked.
“A mistake, on my part. We don’t usually do that to the kids.” Jude felt sick again, he sank back into the seat and stared at the car ceiling. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to come to that building again. I have some things for you―” Malik passed Jude several ripped pieces of paper, all of them holding names and phone numbers. “They liked you, they want to see you again but in private. You don’t have to call any of them if you don’t want to.” He looked at Jude, waiting for him to either put the numbers away or give them back. Jude stuffed them into his pocket and opened the car door, just as Malik grabbed his wrist. “I like you. If you go to the police then I’ll ruin your life.” Jude yanked his wrist free and almost ran to his own car, his entire body trembling as he climbed in and pulled his keys out of the sunshield. Something moved behind him and Jude almost screamed when Luke sat up, lopsided glasses on his face and his hair sticking up in 1000 different directions. How the fuck did he even get in the car?
“Hey buddy, how was your night?”
When Jude got home, nobody asked questions. His cousin had been waiting to scream at him when he got in the door, only she didn’t when she saw the state he was in. He took another shower and then a bath, sitting in it until the water got cold. He went through shameful intervals of crying until he felt sick then going completely silent, disconnected from himself. His mum came and towel dried his hair like when he was a kid and his cousin asked him if he wanted her to call the cops, when she saw the marks and bruises on his body. Jude said no, thinking about the money he’d hidden in the glove compartment of his car and what Malik had said to him. I’ll ruin your life.
“You’ve got such pretty hair, baby. You look like your momma,” his mum told him, smiling brightly as she brushed through it with her fingers for the hundredth time since he got home. She’d layed out his comfiest clothes for him and Jude was surprised she knew it was the sweatpants and old sweater on the back of his desk chair. She’d made him tea and given him pain killers, even though Jude never once told her how much he was hurting. He spent so much time hating her and hating himself for blaming her for the way she was. He hated her for not being a mum, all that he’d ever wanted from her. She suddenly looked very serious, gently holding his face in her face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones. He didn’t even have to force the half smile he gave her. “I’d never let anybody hurt you,” she said, “I’d ruin their fuckin’ lives.”
