Escape from myself
An owl hooted in the distance and a cat nonchalantly strolled by, only just missing brushing up against Blake's legs. A gust of wind chilled the night air and the rustling sounds of autumn leaves resounded eerily loud in the idyllic, yet abandoned park in Pittsburgh. Blake sat down on the ground near a small lake. He could smell the softness of the morning dew and with each deep breath, it filled his lungs with cold air, only to be expelled from his body in restless sighs.
The high was wearing off and little by little, he started feeling more like himself, more like a human being. But little by little, everything came rushing back. Every worry, every concern, every anxiety and every urge. The moon shone lowly and reflected the surroundings onto the surface of the lake. He stared at his own features for a long time, blindly looking into his past, present and future. His cold and bloodshot eyes, the grey skin, the hollowed out cheeks, the lack of smile that usually graced his features so beautifully. Everything Blake remembered as being his had slowly disappeared. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like Blake Wyzecki, that weird kid down the street who's parents were always shouting. The kid that "was alright" but no one bothered with. He remembered being a teenage kid, hiding in his room and dreaming of the day he was all grown up and that he could escape to the big city. He dreamt of not having to answer to anyone, of escaping from his life and finally starting over. He dreamt of his future, of a time when he wasn't put down by everyone, of a time when he wouldn't feel like a loser. He prayed for a time he didn't feel like the black sheep. Bitterly, he smirked at the irony. He had managed to escape his previous life only to fall deeper than before. Angrily, he tossed a stone into the water. He watched it bounce twice and then, finally, dropping down into the cold bottom of the lake. In that second, he wished he could be like the stone. To be cast from his life into the embrace of the icy water that slowly would fill him until his agony was replaced by a blissful silence. He ached for some peace, for warmth and for some tranquillity within.
His beloved Crystal was leaving him and the questions rushed back. The emptiness, the darkness and the sadness. The hallow returned into his soul. Why am I alone? Why doesn't anyone care? Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I stop? Why am I never good enough?
A slow, deliberate and strange voice constantly whispered: Just do it. Escape from yourself.
He wrapped his jeans jacket tighter around himself, in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. He pinched his eyes firmly shut and willed the thoughts and urges to go away. He hated feeling like this, and often as soon as he felt this low, he'd just take another hit and everything will be better. Wistfully, he took one last look at the lake and forced himself to walk away. One more hit and everything will be okay.
He got up, stumbled and started walking towards a small bridge he knew his "friends" would be at. He heard their voices and shivered. They reminded him of what he had become and what he'll do. But it also reminded him that he couldn't walk away. In a strange way, he didn't want to walk away. They understood and accepted him. And at the end of the day, they were all he had. With no family, friends or partner to turn to, these people had become his new family. A corrupted, filthy, untrusting family that wouldn't even think twice about leaving him behind when he needed some help. But it was all he had.
He walked by an older man, passed out on the bench, completely fucked out of his mind, his eyes on empty. It reminded him of what he'll become in the future. A burned out man sleeping off his high on the park bench. He quickly looked away and pushed the image out of his mind. It'll feel better, that's what matters.
He put on the fake smile he had mastered so well : cute, charming, adorable and absolutely sexy. And most of all, nearly irresistible. He knew his smile was worth a lot. He just hoped it was worth enough for tonight. After what had happened, he needed to bring all he's got.
A few guys nodded in recognition, others smiled ominously, and a few sniggered. Shit, they heard what has happened.
Blake shook hands with the biggest and scariest guy of them all, the leader, Dino. 'Hey Blair,' Dino said. 'Surprised to see you here'
'Where else would I be?' Blake smiled, half flirted.
Dino gave him a sly smile, as if he was calculating what to say. "What do you want, Blair?" he asked. Blake couldn't quite read Dino. He seemed overly friendly, which was always a warning to those who knew him well.
"Blake," he said. "Blake is my name, not Blair."
"Who cares?" Dino countered, a cruel undertone in his voice seeping through. "You're nothing but another twink who needs something. A little ant people step on. So, I ask you again, What do you want, Blair?"
"I need a little something for tonight,' Blake blurted out, throwing caution to the wind. "Something to get me by … it's been a shitty night."
"Hmmm," Dino nodded. "So I've heard. Had a little trouble with the landlord." Dino looked at Blake, as if he was eying him up. "Got any cash on you?"
"Cash?" Blake mumbled. Usually Dino didn't mind Blake paying afterwards. They had a system, a deal. In return for what he wanted, Blake sometimes went beyond the call of duty to ensure Dino was on his good side. He gave him everything that he had … including himself.
Dino smiled eerily again. "Didn't think so. Free rides over, mate. You've had enough. Want some crystal? Get me cash."
"But you never had a problem with me paying you later before? You know I'll get it to you." Blake resisted. "I always have."
"Bullshit, you little fuck." Dino heatedly replied. "You still owe me 300. Besides, word on the street is you got yourself into some trouble. You got evicted. I ain't taking no chances."
"Yeah but … come on, Dino, can't we work something out? We have in the past. You told me the 300 was taken care of." Blake asked, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he hovered his hands above Dino's cock. "You know we could have some fun…"
"Loser," Dino laughed. "It's cute when you're the new kid on the block. But it's getting old. And last time I checked, desperation is not hot on anyone. Get lost."
"But …" Blake said, at a loss.
"I said get lost, before I kick the shit out of you." Dino shouted loudly. He took Blake's wrist, turned it around to Blake's back and pushed him forward. Blake fell on the ground, cursed inwardly as he brushed sand out of his mouth with the back of his hand. Furiously he ignored the laughter and whispering radiating from around him.
He got up and walked away, fast. He ignored the searing pain radiating from the bruises on his arms and he started running. He just kept running until his legs couldn't take the burn anymore. He rested, briefly, panting heavily. When he realised where he was, he fell to his knees.
He was at the spot. His spot. He always came here when he felt really low. Somehow his legs knew where to take him. As if they knew what he wanted. As if he knew what he needed. The same voice whispered again, louder than before: Just do it. Escape.
To anyone else but Blake, the spot was a calm and serene place. A place where people had picnics, kissed underneath the trees, held hands and talked freely for hours. It was a small patch of green, surrounded by trees on one side and a giant lake on the other. It seemed romantic, the perfect place to have a secret rendez-vous. But with every pretty picture, there's always a snake hiding in plain sight. For Blake, it was the place where it all started. The first time he had met Crystal. The first time he had leapt into her arms and drowned in her vast entity. The first time he had turned his back on everything he believed in. The first time he had betrayed himself and sold everything that he had to give. Dino was only willing to accept anything Blake wanted to give in exchange for Crystal. It was also the first time he had heard the voice. And now that the voice was louder than ever, he found it hard to resist the temptation the water was presenting. Just do it. Let the water embrace you.
"Fine!" he shouted to the skies. "I give up. I surrender. I stop fighting it." He looked around at the sky, as if he was expecting a reply. "Why even bother? I was cursed when I was born. I was never meant to be anything more than a stupid fucking child who can't do anything right."
"I just…" he cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks freely, and he let the anger, sadness and sheer desperation take over. For once, he couldn't run, he couldn't hide. Crystal wasn't there to help him. Like a hopeless toddler, he searched around for a hand to hold onto but there was no one. No one took the hand he was so desperately reaching out. "I just can't do this anymore."
Suddenly his heart stopped as he heard a branch snap behind him. He turned around to see what it was but he couldn't distinguish any figures in the blackness of the night. "Who's there?"
"Just me, man." A voice replied. A tall, lanky man awkwardly walked towards him and as soon as the moonlight hit his face, Blake recognised him as the man that had laid down on the bench on the bridge, passed out. "I saw what happened and thought I might see if you're alright. Dino was a real bastard, man."
"No," Blake countered. "He was right. Why would he even want me?" He could tell the man was still high by the sound of his voice and the way he constantly rubbed under his nose. He knew the feeling too well, he knew he did the same thing when he was flying. So he didn't mind being sad and depressed in front of him. He wouldn't remember a thing the next mourning. "Why would anyone even want me? No one would even miss me if I didn't wake up in the morning."
"Don't say that," the older man said. "You're still young, you have things to live for?"
"Oh yeah?" Blake laughed. "Like what? A mortgage to pay? Friends to hang out with? Parents to visit? A lover to fuck?" Blake stared at the older man defiantly, daring him to argue back. "I've got nothing. I'm not even sure I have myself anymore."
"You'll feel better after you've had some sleep." The man resisted, shaking his sad slowly.
"Sleep where? Here?" Blake screamed. "I might as well. It's the only place I can stay at. Didn't you hear? I got evicted. I can't even go back to the crack den because I …" he couldn't say it. He couldn't do it. He couldn't admit to himself that he had done something he never thought he'd do. He swallowed hard. "I can't go back because I stole from the guy who rules the place. If I go back, he'll beat me up. Fuck, he'll kill me. No one steals from him."
He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection on the lake. In a second, he felt like being sick. There, he had said it. Once you say it, it becomes the truth. I am a thief.
"Come on, man" the older man tried to say. "We all do shit that's fucked up. It doesn't mean we're bad."
Blake scoffed. He knew very well that the older man didn't even believe those words himself. "Who are you kidding. We're all fucked up, we're all doomed to die alone in a ditch. You know what it's like, you've seen it. Either you quit it, or it quits you. And most of us, don't get to quit it."
"I just need to sleep …" Blake sighed, he dreamily stared at the lake and thought of the stone again, drifting slowly and pleasantly down to the bottom of the lake. Never to be heard of again, never to be seen again.
The older man put a hand on Blake's shoulder and it shook him awake. "Look, just go back to Liberty Avenue. Find a guy to fuck. Maybe he'll let you stay. If you're lucky, he'll pay you. If not, try again. We all done it and I know it wouldn't exactly be your first."
"I only do that when I'm …" Blake stopped.
"Desperate for a fix?" he replied. "Or just desperate?" The man laughed. "You and I, we're not that different. I'm just older and a lot less attractive. You, you're young and hot. Someone will pay to fuck you." He took out something from his pocket and shoved it into Blake's hand. "Here, take it and use it. It'll get you by 'til morning."
Without saying something else, he turned around and walked away.
"Wait … don't you want anything in return?" Blake asked.
"You talked to me," the man said. "And you didn't even once tell me to fuck off. That's something."
The light shone brightly on the streets, the sound of conversation and laughter filled the air on Liberty Avenue. People walked at a quick pace, wanting nothing more to get away from the cold and swiftly enter the warmth of the pubs and clubs – not to mention to encounter another kind of heat. Still, the mood on the street felt excited, light and happy. Frivolous, even.
But if you looked closely, you could see some sombre eyes and fake smiles on lonely faces, sadness hiding in plain sight. Blake was one of them. He stood on the corner of the major avenue and a little alleyway, nicknamed 'no eyes alley'. It was a long but dingy alley where a lot of newly formed couples would seek refuge to in case they needed some privacy off streets. Because it was partly hidden by a gate, that was never locked, it was hard to see in to. Another façade hidden in plain sight.
Blake peered through the crowd, looking out for a perfect man to chat up. His stomach turned in protest, the simmering burn being a constant warning and reminder that his consciousness wasn't happy. Despite his reputation, Blake hated doing this. He'd picked up guys plenty of times, but only because he liked them and wanted to get to know them. Most of the time, it ended up in sex. He didn't mind sex, at all, but he wondered why everyone was so obsessed with it. It's fun and satisfying but he'd easily give up a quick fuck for something more substantial. He'd been running from place to place, from guy to guy for such a long time that he yearned for something safe. For something warm and meaningful. He yearned for … a home. Or someone to love him. To hold him. To comfort him. And if he was brutally honest with himself, he just wanted someone to like him. For him not to feel alone and cold.
Tears danced on his lashes once more as the emptiness resurfaced. He shook his head fiercely and reached for his pocket. The tiny bag of Crystal was still in there, a temptation underneath his fingertips. He took it out, opened it and emptied the content on the back of his right hand. In a swift movement, he snorted the content. It wasn't much but as soon as the powder hit his nose, he saw bright lights and stars in front of his eyes. He started smiling broadly as the familiar high started to set in. Dull and in the back of his mind, he felt her come back. Crystal was with him and she was beautiful.
He felt himself come alive again and the worries, questions and thoughts faded slowly. The urge to be a stone slowly weakened until it was nothing more than a little peddle in the corner of his mind. Out of sight and out of mind, for now. Crystal was taking care of him, he wasn't alone anymore.
A man bumped into him and in the distance he heard him apologise. He looked at him and smiled. "The ants are going away. They're not biting anymore." Blake grinned.
"The fuck are you on." He replied as he walked away from Blake.
Blake laughed. To anyone but him, he didn't make sense. But he understood. And so did Crystal. He scoped out the streets again, looking for someone to love. Or at least, to fuck and sleep in their house.
Again, his stomach protested. But Blake resisted. Just for tonight. Tomorrow I'll find a new place and I'll stop. I'll get better. I'll never have to lie again. But I'm tired and I … I just want someone to hold me tonight. Anyone. I don't want to feel like shit.
A flamboyant man wearing pink leather pants and no silky see through shirt walked passed him. He's too gay.
A petite woman smiled at him as she held hands with her girlfriend. He smiled courteously. Not gay enough.
A big husky man in jeans, leather jacket and a cap waved to his crew from afar. I suspect he'd be … rough. He winced at the memories and quickly looked for someone else.
Then in the distance he saw a group of people he vaguely new. Cute, skinny, average looking guy … Michael I think his name is. From the gym … not bad, a bit of a dork but he's always been nice. Boyfriend material … but he'll never let me stay until morning. Not if I fuck him right away. He's not the type.
Beside him, a slightly taller man walked along. Brown hair, older, his back a bit hunched, neat clothes. Not what I usually go for but maybe that's not a bad thing. He seems … nice. Adorable.
As the pair came closer, Blake felt drawn to the man. Something inside of him screamed. Something inside of the man connected to something inside of him. But he had no idea what that was. He's the one. I'll stay with him tonight.
He walked towards the pair, his head held low, and as he passed the couple, he "accidently" bumped in the guy next to Michael. "Sorry" he mumbled. He turned around and made eye contact with the guy. "It's alright." The guy said. A quick smile, a raise of his hand and suddenly he was gone.
Blake stayed on the spot, as if he was nailed to the ground. Something had hit him inside. The way the guy had turned around, the way he had awkwardly avoided looking at him directly, the way he had meaninglessly replied, the way he smelled, the way he … was. Blake smiled, involuntarily, as his stomach seized to burn. There was something about the guy, a sense of kindness that immediately drew Blake in. It's not what I usually go for but maybe that really is not a bad thing.
He saw Michael and his friend walk away into the distance and feverishly wished he could run after him and introduce himself. But he knew that a nice man like him wouldn't go for a stupid kid like him. Why would he? He probably already has an amazing man that … his thoughts were cut short as he saw them both turn into the alley where Babylon was. "Either Michael's doing him," Blake thought. "Or they're both on the pull."
He smiled again, a genuine smile because Blake just realised he might have a shot.
Blake sat behind the bar and he'd been watching Michael's friend for a while now. He knew he wasn't taken since he'd been unsuccessfully hitting on men the entire night.
Blake laughed at his attempts. Even though the other men completely ignored him, he had found his attempts plain adorable and sweet. He noticed the guy was drinking the new cocktail Babylon was offering and he adored the way the guy first removed the umbrella, then ate the little pineapple slice on the glass and then proceeded to sip the cocktail for a good half an hour before ordering a new one. Cocktail after cocktail, the same thing. A bubble was forming inside of Blake's chest. He couldn't explain it but it felt like a bubble of cuteness and happiness. Something the guy was forming inside of him. He smiled but felt foolish. Blake realised that he had a crush. A crush on a guy he had never met, never spoken to and never even heard of. He'd merely bumped into him and observed him for 3 hours. That's all it took. He waved sheepishly but got the cold shoulder from the guy. His smile dimmed but he pledged not to give up. He saw Michael walk up to the guy and contemplated going over there to talk to Michael. Perhaps he'd introduce him but before he even had the chance to execute his crafty plan, the guy was leaving Babylon. Quickly, Blake emptied his glass of water and hurried after him.
He didn't catch up with him until they were outside. The guy was walking through the crowd and looking for a way out of the alley. He was right behind him and he could smell his sweet, musky cologne."Didn't want to dance?" Blake blurted out.
"Oh, uh … yeah," the guy replied. "I'm not much of a dancer. Although I … I enjoy dancing. I …I didn't realize you were asking, uh…"
Blake smiled broadly. He couldn't believe how lovely his voice was. The softness and kindness in the vowels, the cute lilt as he pronounced the worlds. He saw the guy turn his back on him. "Taking off?" he said, once more blurting it out in panic. He didn't want him to leave. At least not without him. He wanted to keep that bubble that was inside of him. He wanted to be near the guy, to keep feeling that bubble grow.
" Yeah. Yeah, you know, sometimes it just," the guy said. In a cute way, he kept stumbling over his words. "Uh … it, uh, it gets a little … too, uh…"
Blake understood what he was trying to say. "Intense?" he asked. The guy didn't seem like the Babylon type. More the type to stay at home and watch a movie with a glass of wine. He knew the only reason why he came here was to escape the loneliness that seemed to live in his apartment. He knew exactly how he felt because it's the same reason why he went out to places like Babylon, too.
" Intense." The guy said, contently nodding at the word. "That's, uh … that's a good word."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Blake replied, weirdly nervous. He usually didn't get nervous because he knew he was good-looking enough to have his pickings. But with this guy, someone that wasn't even his type, he felt his hands shake. "Sometimes it gets a little too intense in there for me, too."
Talking to the guy felt pleasant to Blake. It wasn't like talking to his friends. They were often crude in the way they handled him. But this guy was nice. He could tell. And Blake liked the way he looked at him. The guy looked at him as if he was … a person. His eyes, they betrayed a sense of kindness and softness, embedded in loneliness. "You going home?" he asked, full of hope. "Do you want some company?"
The guy started fiddling with his hands in his pocket. Blake could tell he was tense. 'So cute.' He thought.
"Well, you know," the guy responded. "It's … it's … it's a little late." Blake saw the guy think, a cute ripple forming between his eyes. Again, the bubble grew. "And, uh… Sure."
Blake smiled broadly, once more. The bubble inside just doubled in size as he saw the guy smile back at more he looked at him, the more he realised how stunning he was. "Are you sure?" he asked, not quite believing he got lucky.
"Sure." The guy replied. "I … I … if you're sure."
" I'm sure." Blake said. He didn't know what was happening but he knew he wanted to hang on to this feeling. He wanted to hang on to the bubble inside. Because with that bubble inside, the voice inside telling him to escape had been pushed back to the very furthest corner of his being. And every time the guy spoke, the voice dimmed until, by the end of the walk, it was nothing but a thought he once had.