I had to get outta here.
Stray gravel crunched under the bottom of my heel as I lifted off the wall,hell-bent on hiking home and indulging in what my brain was screaming for. A calm washed over me, the feeling slowly returning to my fingers now that I’d caved in.
“Hey!” a deep voice I didn’t recognize called out. I paused mid-stride, briefly unsure if I should turn around or not. They could be a John looking to buy my time or a random citizen asking for trouble. Neither option was great.
“Hey, you! I know you heard me.”
I turned around, coming face-to-face with another worker. It was hard to see him clearly from where I stood. There wasn’t as much light, but I saw his midriff was exposed. He wore some sort of cropped shirt with a pair of low-rise pants, which I was sure accentuated his hips. I didn’t recognize him otherwise.
I tried to play it cool, wary of where the conversation would go. “What’s up, man?”
Hand on his hip, he scoffed and walked closer. “Don’t try to act coy with me. The fuck is up with you? You get sick of the life?”
“I’m just taking a break, dude.”
“Oh, okay, yeah.” I tried to take a step back, but he moved closer. Just an inch or two more, and he’d be in my face. “Just run off home in your cozy house with the heat on. Did you only come here to laugh in our faces? Huh?”
The guy was fuming. To my knowledge, we’d never talked to each other, yet he knew I had a home. I never intentionally hid that I did, but I sure as hell didn’t broadcast it amongst the others. I knew a lot of them were homeless, and the ones who had homes kept it under wraps as well. I guessed it was for safety and to keep from insensitive conversations or jealousy. “Whoa, I ain’t laughing in nobody’s face. I respect y’all as much as the next guy.”
All I got in response was a huff and a finger pointed directly in my face. “You’ve fucked everything up around here. Things were fine and dandy until you strutted onto our corner.”
“What—and I mean this in the kindest way possible—the fuck are you on, dude?”
“You serious?” He threw his head back, laughing obnoxiously as a couple more guys crowded behind him. “I don’t like being slapped so hard that I black out. We all know a guy who does, though, and he’s themost requested rent boy around here. If the Johns can’t get you, they settle for us, and they play byyourrules!”
Shaking my head, I glanced around at the crowd surrounding us. “Look, I’m sorry, but?—”
I was cut off by an angry growl. “Fuck you! You can apologize all you want. It won’t mean a damn thing. You say you respect us. I call bullshit.”
“Hold on, Christ!” I could hear desperation in my voice, yelling loud enough that my words cracked in the air. My head swam, and my brain was going fuzzy. The numbness came back, coating my tongue like a persistent bad taste in my mouth. “Y’all can’t seriously get angry over my specialty or whatever you wanna call it. Some of you do lingerie, others role-play—I mean, all of us have some sort of schtick we do.”
Another guy dressed in tight leggings and a thin sweater walked forward. “Nah, you’re right. We can’t get angry over having something that makes you special from us. Our shit isn’t as dangerous as yours, though. You know how rough paying customers can get. One or two assholes in a month is expected. Since you’ve been around? It’s more like three or four a week.”
“Yeah, and you’ve got a choice,” the guy from before chipped in. “We don’t. You get to take a break—we don’t. We can’t say no like you can.”
Fuck. I was outnumbered. I didn’t know what to say. I never in a million years expected something like this to happen. I’d made it my mission to stay out of everyone else’s way because I knew that. I knew I had a choice. I knew I had a privilege that a lot of people didn’t.
I put my hands up, palms out in a sort of peace offering. “I had no idea this was happening. Please, y’all have to believe me.”
Crop-top stepped back, shaking his head. “We don’t. Some of the guys think we should all stick together or some shit. They say all rent boys gotta have each other’s backs. Us, on the other hand? You haven’t had our backs, so why the fuck should we have yours?”
Nothing made sense. His words weren’t computing in my brain. My chest ached from breathing in so much cold air. Tears pricked my eyes, making my nose tingle. “What do you mean?”
He tilted his head down in some sort of nod before stepping backfurther. I turned around, ready to high-tail it outta there. I didn’t make it.
Someone grabbed my left arm, and another grabbed my right, slamming me against the concrete wall I’d just been leaning against. The air in my lungs rushed out in a hurry, my back hitting the wall hard enough to make me wheeze. I coughed, looking up through clouded eyes.
A leg found its way against my stomach. Someone socked me in the face. I cried out as my wrists were crushed beneath someone’s grip. I couldn’t move.
I was trapped.
Helpless.
“This is how they treat us! All those Johns asking for you, pissed off when we tell them we don’t know where you are. They get pissed just like we are, and then they take it out on us.” I didn’t know who was speaking anymore.
It didn’t matter, though. All I could do was take the punches and hope they ended soon. I couldn’t understand why they were so angry with me. I didn’t know. How could I have known?
It didn’t matter. I’d been heading home to punish myself with streaks of blood that I’d hide underneath my clothes, wrapped with shitty homemade bandages anyway.
