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The camera loves distance. Makes me look more in control.

I turn slightly, giving them my side, then my back, then look over my shoulder because that angle always gets the room stupid.

Tokens come in.

Some nights, that would be enough to settle me. Body equals money. Money equals options. Options equal not moving back into Mom’s basement and pretending concrete walls build character.

Tonight, my head stays split.

Half in the room. Half at Iroquois Park with Zane talking collabs and jerk-off buddies. Half in Paul’s backyard under rich-people sun, his eyes measuring me.

That’s too many halves for one brain.

I turn back toward the camera.

“You want the sweats off?”

The chat answers like I’ve asked whether breathing should continue.

I let them wait a minute, then I hook both thumbs into the waistband and push the sweatpants down.

The room goes fast and filthy.

The cool air hits my skin. My cock is already swollen. Lights, camera, erection.

BigDog469: hard already good boy

My jaw tightens.

I bend to pick up the sweatpants and toss them onto the futon, buying myself one second with my face turned away.

When I look back, I put the smile on.

“Don’t get cocky.”

MouthyMike: too late

Someone new enters and immediately asks if I’m straight.

I stare at the message.

I should ignore it. I usually do.

Tonight, the question sits under my skin beside Zane’s voice.

Ain’t gay if it’s for tokens.

“Straight to the next hole,” I say.

The chat laughs.

A regular asks if I’ll put my foot closer to the camera.

“Already with the feet?”

FootGuyBob: please man had bad day

“Everybody had a bad day.”