Hi, I'm Farkle Minkus. That's Farkle. Minkus. With the lowdown.
*CLICK*
It was a chaotic period since Riley took the editor-in-chief position at Dirty Deeds magazine. She's caught in a pickle because the stories she wants are not at all what she expected. Riley may be my girlfriend and all, but she still struggles to tell the truth about how she feels deep inside herself.
"I just need some more time," her 13-year-old self said.
"I'm here for you," my 13-year-old post-turtleneck-self told her.
*CLICK*
Maya Hunter, Riley's best friend, has yet to tell Lucas that she's breaking up with him. Part of her dilemma revolves around Josh Matthews, Riley's uncle.
"There's no wrong for you to take a break, but remember your deal," Josh told me after I lost a bet and my pinky finger in the same week.
A huge weight lifted off my shoulders when Maya and I came to terms about our rendezvous.
"If I can be honest with myself, I'll know what I'm looking for," Maya said to me in confidence.
Who will be carrying the weight now? I wonder.
*CLICK*
Dr. Isadora Smackle, my amicable ex-girlfriend, is taking a break from her practice in celebrity psychotherapy. She took a job offer, doing the late shift at the same-day care unit. Her first patient, Erica Bionx, came in with worms. She's also pregnant. The publicist's statement won't give full details, but Smackle already had Erica sign for release of information. The full diagnosis will be in the next issue.
"What else is new?" the doctor asked her patient.
*CLICK*
As far as my missions go, I am focused on the assignments given to me. Riley wanted me to work on this former teen idol who changed sexes. However, my mind wandered to the Minkus International interns who were the subjects of my next assignment. These interns have no lives outside of Minkus International other than each other.
"They're life-changers," Keilani said about a schadenfreudian show.
One intern let slip of a potential sexual harassment case. Just when I thought I was ready to put her on the back burner, she had cracked.
"He paid me $5,000 not to say anything to anybody," Rolanda cried. "They wouldn't believe me!"
Now that I got everything out of the way, it's time for me to see some friends. I need a break!
*CLICK*
At Charlie Gardner's house, Charlie, Lucas, Zay, Josh, and I were playing cards. Since we're too strung out about the chaos, we've decided to hold off on planned punishments indefinitely, starting at midnight. I do not blame them one bit. I just question how worried they are about Riley. My Riley.
"Alright, five-card draw with blinds. Highest hand wins the round, chooses the next game. Loser plays shot roulette," Charlie stated the rules of tonight's card games. Since the punishment involved fear and taking chances, I'm game, and everyone else is, too.
I pick up my cards, and I'm happy with what I have already, so I don't have to draw twice. It wasn't one of those luck-of-the-draw or what-are-the-odds kind of hands. I just liked what I saw.
The others looked like they had good hands, too. Save for Josh, he's quick to fold when his mind whirrs a thousand miles an hour trying to count cards. Riley's uncle knows the lowdown of poker, and I hate to be the one matching his wits.
"Take my hand, man, you know I can't play this shit," Josh said, handing his cards to Charlie.
"I call," Zay said, doubling his small blind.
"And I check," Lucas said, smirking, not needing to bump the bet.
"Okay, Farkle, Zay, and Lucas are in. How many, Farkle?" Charlie quickly asked me, ready with the deck face down in his palm.
"I'm not taking any," I answered. "Zay?" I looked to Lucas's best friend.
"Two, please," Zay said, throwing away two of his cards in exchange for two from Charlie's deck.
"Just one, Chuck," Lucas said, and the two exchanged a single card.
"Three," I said, tossing three blue chips into the pot.
"Call," Zay said and did.
"Ditto," Lucas followed.
"Farkle?" Charlie asked me.
"Nope," I said, still confident in my hand.
"Zay?" Charlie asked.
"One, please," Zay said, throwing away one of his cards in exchange for a new card.
"I'm staying," Lucas said.
"Okay, that's two rounds, guys. Show me what you got," Charlie said, concluding the game.
"Three jacks," Zay said.
Lucas mucked, leaving me to reveal my hand that I stayed strong in.
"Oh, three jacks, that's good Zay. Just... not good enough," I said before the big reveal. "Three queens," I said, flipping my cards over and taking the pot.
"Ah, you lose, Zay. Shot roulette time," Charlie said because he's the host.
Charlie walked to his kitchen to grab a tray full of random shots of rainbow colors. Some had alcohol. Some didn't. That's what makes this kind of roulette fun. Zay wasn't nervous... until he chose the blue drink from the rainbow line. And then he grimaced at the taste after swallowing.
"Mm, that's some vodka!" Zay said as he choked out the rest of his breath.
The guys and I laughed before I chose Indian Poker, which is a one-card blind draw, as our next game. Since I sat next to Charlie, he dealt one card to each player, and we bet before the big reveal. Once again, Josh folded. Charlie, too, folded. Once again, it was down to two Texans and a Farkle.
"Two," I said, on fire.
"Two? Are you crazy?" Zay asked, following suit.
"No, I'm Farkle," I joked, raising my hands in power.
"Oh, come on!" Zay rolled his eyes, and everyone groaned at my joke.
Someone threw a used napkin at me, too.
"Well, I'm out," Lucas folded.
"I win," I said, showing my ace of spades.
"Damn!" Zay said, revealing a card slightly lower than face value.
"Gotta do the shot skis," Charlie said, pointing towards the opposite wall of the room.
The wall had a shot ski mounted to it, resembling a bookshelf. In four of the five shot glasses was whiskey. The fifth glass, whichever it is, had apple juice. In this light, it was hard to tell. Poor Zay.
He picked the third shot glass and lucked out. It was apple juice, and he was lucky to have escaped the punishment.
I chose Hearts as the next game, letting the other four guys play one hand for points because my phone buzzed in my pocket, and Rolanda wanted to talk to me. I excused myself, stood up, and walked outside the door to answer her call.
"Farkle," I answered.
"Farkle, thank goodness you answered. I need a favor."
"Sure, anything," I said, peeking inside the house to see how Hearts is going.
"Wanna meet at the penthouse sometime next week, just us two? I've got more dirt on Barricklow and nobody to tell except you," she wants to confide in me.
"Of course. I'll text you when I have time," I confirmed.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Bye."
That was easy.
I pressed END as I walked inside. When I took my seat, the guys started asking questions; none of which I was ready to answer.
"Who's on the phone?" Lucas asked.
"Eh, just one of my interns. They made me tag along in their slumber party the other night," I answered in disgust.
"What's wrong with that? Cheers," Charlie said as he and Lucas clinked shot glasses of whiskey. Hah, losers. Wonder who had the queen of spades, and the other, all hearts.
"These girls are bored with their lives. I am grateful that I got a story out of one of them, but it's not the kind of story we were looking for, you know?"
"What is the story?" Charlie asked after he swallowed.
"The Secret Lives of Minkus Girls," I answered. "They don't have secret lives. They're just trying to get by in this world, and they don't feel that they're worthy. Because for someone to survive in this world, they must thrive. To thrive in this world, they must flourish. So far, they gossip and indulge in schadenfreude," I confirmed.
"Schadenfreude?" Zay questioned as if he didn't know.
"It's where you enjoy watching other people get hurt, whether it's accidental or by masochism. Some of it's funny. What they did was not," I said.
"Let me guess," Josh jumped in. "They watch 'Ow! My Balls!' on the weekends?" he asked sarcastically as he shuffled the cards.
"Uh-huh," I nodded.
"Oh!" Josh raised his eyebrows in surprise, dealing the cards for another round of five-card stud.
"These girls are in their early 20s. They should be doing more age-appropriate things, don't you think? I mean, they pick one weekend a month to go clubbing. Do you think Riley will be disappointed if I tell her I have nothing on the Minkus Girls?" I questioned.
"Relax, kid," Josh said. "Riley wants something that's an honest sell. If you tell that to your girls, they'll start roasting each other behind their backs. Like the maroon-haired girl I saw at your rooftop party," he cited as an example. "She's hot! Why's she hot? How is she hot and intimidating? What's her background?"
"She once spent her junior year of college solely off Minkus International stocks. She did it to prove to her parents that she didn't need their hard-earned money. And she hates her natural hair color," I said. "That's why she colors it maroon. Oh, and she took time off from work to audition for Dark-Hearted Damsels. I think she got the part that she auditioned for."
"And the blonde?" Lucas questioned about Keilani.
"She chopped off her dyed ends. Other than being babyish, there isn't more I can tell you about her. You might have to find out for yourself," I answered. "Oh, and she's the one who suggested watching 'Ow, My Balls.'"
"What about the girl with the curly brown afro?" Zay asked about Amber.
"She doesn't stop talking," I was quick to answer that one.
"And that girl who's onto you? Soft serve?" Charlie asked.
"She used to work for Hightower Media as an intern before a sexual harassment forced her to quit," I answered.
"Didn't Brett Barricklow work for Hightower at one point?" Charlie followed.
"He ran the company, and he was the one who got handsy with Rolanda and paid her to keep quiet about the sexual harassment," I confirmed.
We sat there quietly, running my last phrase through our heads. I believe we've found a motivation to get the publisher of Dirty Deeds fired from his job. When a publisher gets fired, the editor-in-chief is always the first candidate for the interim.
"Farkle? Farkle?" Josh snapped his fingers in my face.
"Huh? What? Huh?" I shooed the thoughts away.
"Why didn't Rolanda say anything until now?" Josh asked.
(excerpt from Riley's Rebellion)
I had been keeping a low profile since I found those pictures of myself in my apartment. Maya is being stalked. Josh and Lucas have also received unwanted photos. Farkle wouldn't do such a thing. Who would want to send us candid photos of ourselves?
To clear my mind from the gutter, I accepted an invitation to accompany my little brother to the Great American Bistro for dinner. Any news from Auggie is better than no news. I do not hear things about him, but I can assume them sometimes.
"So, I hear you're proposing to Ava soon?" I asked my brother after the waitress took our orders.
"I'm working on it. Farkle offered me a job at Minkus International, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wouldn't take it," Auggie said.
"Why not?"
"I want to study up on that BAR exam. I have three semesters left before law school. I just want them out of the way."
"Don't stress yourself out. Don't do what I did just to make someone happy."
"What did you do this time?" he stressed the question.
"I may have struck a deal with Upgrade," I answered giddily. "Are you familiar with the 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' game?"
"Which one's Upgrade?"
"He's the good cop. Runs his own pharmacy in Upstate. Nobody truly knows who he is... except for Farkle, but maybe that's because Upgrade is this professor's alias," I rambled.
"Professor Goolagong," he said through his mouthful.
"How did you know that?"
"He was my chemistry professor. Well, he used to be for half a semester before the chancellor discovered that he was a drug dealer on the side," Auggie answered after swallowing his food.
The silence lingered between my brother and me as we ate our dinner. Even with other patrons chattering about, I could still hear and feel. Auggie knew of Professor Goolagong before I? How dare he! Then again... it helped.
"You look better," Auggie broke the silence, changing the direction of our conversation.
"I do?" my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"You're smiling more. Your complexion is glowing. Something good happened to you. Are you dating again?"
"I am, actually," I admitted. "We've dated before, but something tells me this one will stick around for a long time," I smiled.
"Well, I hope he does. If it's the person I think it is, then I hope he gets to marry you and have little baby Minkii," he spoiled my surprise, but I couldn't blame him.
"Yeah," I just nodded fondly.
Another silence slowly crept upon us, but it felt a million times better than the last. I have Auggie to thank for that. Auggie's proposing to Ava soon, provided he could still afford a ring. I'm with Farkle, resuming the dating life. Dad just renewed his teaching contract for two more years. Mom will be presiding over a major murder trial. This is good, but as life predicts for anybody, it could go either way.
From: Sparkly Farkley
The guys and I found a motive to fire your publisher. Something was fishy about him from the start, and we've got him right where we want him.
Farkle.
I had a shocked look on my face, but I kept running those words through my head. As much as I hate quick-turn conversations, Farkle was right to take the wheel.
"You okay, sis?" Auggie snapped me out of my thoughts.
I looked to Auggie before I realized what was going on.
"Yeah," I said. "I've got things to do and people to work with," I continued as I collected my things and covered the tab. "I'll see you later, Auggie," I hugged him goodbye and speed-walked to the door.
NEWSBREAK
Pornographic actress Maribel Monet announces retirement from the porn industry. From the source herself, the 32-year-old veteran stated, "I made a promise to stop doing porn when it either got too good, or I paid off my student loans and debts. Both just happened to hit at the same time, and it was the right time, too, I believe." However, when asked where her source of income will be in the future, Monet replied, "I still have my lingerie and intimates' line as well as my sex toy collection. As for real work, a couple of print media outlets are in line to hire me." Monet, 32, began her adult career after graduating from Syracuse with a degree in business marketing. More to develop when we hear from Monet's agent.
(excerpt from Maya Hunter, Maya Hunter)
I called Lucas to my house because I needed to tell him the truth. Everything that has happened within the last two months has finally come back to haunt me. I slept with two different men in vain, and that's upsetting. I am not sorry for what I did. I am more afraid of Lucas's reaction than I am being apologetic.
We're sitting in his pickup truck, cruising the night away. When he found a stop outside of town, he killed the engine. He knows I'm nervous. He knows something's wrong with me. I just need to find the courage to let it all out without letting my stomach purge.
"Maya, something's on your mind, and I'm curious," he said, questioning my body language.
"I'm fine. I just haven't been myself lately," I answered.
"I know that. Does this have to do with the pictures from the front door?"
"That's part of it," I admitted. "But it's not all."
"There's more," he realized. "Isn't there?"
I stalled, trying to find the right words to say. I couldn't handle it.
"Maya, talk to me," Lucas commanded.
"I'm sorry, Lucas... it's nothing against you, but... I just couldn't help myself," I teared up.
"Who was it?" he asked, knowing that I've already cheated.
"You don't want to know, and don't make me answer your next question," I admitted, but the weight is finally lifted.
"You know, when you say that, it makes me think that you went behind my back and slept with someone we both know, someone close," he said with a smile before realizing the truth, nodding, and sighing, "did you have sex with Farkle again?"
"How did you know?" I couldn't let him know I was in shock, so I deadpanned.
"I don't. Farkle didn't exactly tell me, but he had been closer to you since Riley took the editor job. When you two danced atop the roof and at Shambala, you were all over him," he said.
"Because he likes me!" I reacted. "It would be a huge letdown to his ego if I gave him less than 84%. You know that," I said before clarifying. "I've been having a problem lately. I want to know why this is happening to me," I said.
"What's going on now?"
"I can't climax. The last few times I've had sex... it was rather anticlimactic. I'm starting to think sex has become meaningless. Remember when Riley told her boss that we'd have to do some things to find stories? Like things-things?" I asked him; he nodded. "That's how I've been feeling. I do these things before getting a story or helping Farkle get his story. That night when you and Josh took him to Connie Haley's house to take a picture of Connie slapping Dominic? Did you ever notice how happy Farkle seemed? It's because I had sex with him, and that was the last time I was able to come. And that afternoon when you came home to Farkle in drag? Josh was there, and we had an affair before you showed up. I may have let him take advantage of me earlier this week," I chuckled to the point of crying. "I haven't had my time of day since I found those explicit pictures of myself. I want to enjoy myself, but I'm not safe in my own home, Lucas. Someone is out there, and my escapes are either art or sex, and I can't even think about sex without thinking that somebody is watching me!"
"That's disappointing, Maya," Lucas said sternly, and as much as I like guys being firm with me, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy feeling the burn. I deserved it.
"I know. You hate me now," I said, wiping a tear away.
"I don't hate you, Maya. You're just... too much for me. And since you're getting things off your chest, I guess I should tell you what's been on my mind that I, too, have been harboring for two months," Lucas said.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
"Are you cheating on me, too?" I questioned innocently.
"No," he said after looking at me funny.
"Well, you're sitting on a gold mine, Ranger Rick!" I joked.
(and now, back to Dirty Deeds)
Lucas and Maya broke up. About. Damn. Time. Josh, Zay, Charlie, and I had been waiting for them to break up for six months now. Now that the break up has happened, we are now ready to take Lucas to another promised land.
That night, we arrived at an underground gentlemen's club called Lil Mama Roma's. The music wasn't all too bad. The guys and I just ordered the appetizer sampler before the main event. Two ladies were set to take center stage, and we were front table patrons. Normally, strip club strippers weren't any different from other girls whom I've befriended or dated, and they certainly don't look like the strippers in the movies. The guys were eager to cheer up Lucas, and we just thank the performers, whoever and wherever they are.
As our food arrived, the waitress said that our drinks are on the house because it's just us tonight. How did we luck out?
"Take my drink, man. I'm still hungover from last night," Zay said, offering his shot to Josh.
"Okay," Josh accepted the drink. "Since you're not drinking, why don't you look behind you, Zay," Josh said.
"Why? What's up?" Zay said, turned around, and received a gift.
A topless woman grabbed Zay's head and rubbed his face all over her bare bosom. Her natural breasts were easily double-D's, but that came with having a little more weight on her. Still looked healthy as fuck, though. I'd do her, but it's one of them "Wham, Bam, Thank You, I am Farkle" kind of situations...
"I don't want that," Rolanda said about our "relationship" a few nights ago.
...but that woman's ass, though... we couldn't stop staring. Ew, get it together, Farkle.
Charlie tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention. Thanks, Chuck. When I turned around, he motioned for me to propose a toast.
"Gentlemen, I'd like to propose a toast," I raised my glass. "To Brett Barricklow, one step closer to his firing!"
"Ah, fuck Barricklow!" everyone said and touched glasses.
The stage floor filled with smoke, and the opening bars to "Hot for Teacher" played over the sound system. A tall blonde schoolgirl in uniform strutted the runway and blew a kiss somewhere far. A short brunette schoolmarm in glasses, dressed in a woman's black business suit, emerged on stage, and smacked the blonde's bottom with her teaching stick. The blonde's face contorted into fake pain as she rubbed the red area of her bottom. They began a dance routine, and in the process, slowly took their clothes off until they were wearing nothing but a flesh-colored G-string. The blonde and brunette then assumed cheesy couples' dance poses and milked the sexiness for what it's worth.
It wasn't until another chorus when I recognized the two girls. When they made eye contact with the guys and me, oh boy, were we all embarrassed.
"Dude, that's Darby!" Charlie said.
"Is that Sarah?!" Zay questioned.
The girls covered their bosoms in shyness until Josh started cheering them on to continue their routine. I joined Josh in the applause next, and naturally, everyone started clapping again. Soon enough, they gained the confidence to dance again. Darby walked back to the pole and wrapped her leg around it, smacking her own ass. Sarah threw off her glasses and did the splits. I wish we had cash to throw at them.
When their show was over, they headed backstage to their dressing rooms. The manager told us that we can speak with them in five minutes. Once our plates were empty, the waitress brought out five mugs of beer and two dry martinis. Then the girls stepped out of their dressing rooms, wearing black tank tops, skinny jeans, and black high-heeled pumps.
"How did you guys find us here?" Darby asked in my ear before she took a seat next to me.
"We didn't," I answered her.
"This was just a guys' night out," Lucas said. "Pure coincidence."
"Maya dumped you, didn't she?" Sarah knew.
"Got that right," Lucas said.
"Well, now that you're here, do you guys promise not to tell anyone, especially Riley?" Darby smiled at us.
"Don't worry, Darby. It'll be our little secret," I said, looking at her forehead.
"You're going to tell her, aren't you?" Darby knew I wasn't exactly honest.
"Oh, I'm not going to tell her," I shook my head and smiled, "you are."
"Farkle, why?"
"I've got enough ladies and rumors on my mind. If the strippers worked at Minkus International during the day, then I'd have my camera ready. I'd watch your back if I were you," I told Darby. "You never know if a photographer in here works for Slutville."
"What's wrong with Slutville?"
"Missy Bradford? She's going after anyone who is close to Maya," I answered, turning to Lucas. "Did you know she won't even have sex anymore?" I asked Freak-Face.
"Blessing in disguise," Lucas said. "It'll give her time to re-evaluate her life, and when these photos stop coming to her house, she'll either come back or fly solo."
"I should've guessed," Sarah chuckled at someone's comment, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Should've guessed what?" I chimed in.
"Oh, nothing," she answered. "So, when are we going to see that one celebrity that I was talking about at the Monday meeting?"
I haven't thought of that yet. I had been so busy catering to my interns that I had another job to do. Thank you, Sarah. Riley is sending us to this one musician's place. The weird thing is, I don't know whether to call this person a he or a she. Sarah and I will find that out later. I'm going home.
Sarah and I were outside this temple-like place. Walls of rough stone and concrete secluded these peaceful patrons. These religious practitioners wore robes of white as they exited their mass. They came in all shapes and sizes. The nervous girl and I were looking for a special person. I'm still not versed in pronouns, but I was so lucky this person had a unisex name. We spotted a tall and slender blue-eyed person with a long, dark, bone-straight ponytail. I think his (her?) bone structure and five-o'clock shadow gave it away.
"Excuse me, Jamie Coffey?" Sarah addressed the transgender former teen idol.
"Yes?" Jamie's deep voice confirmed it. He's a he.
"I'm Sarah Carpenter with Dirty Deeds. This is my work partner, Farkle Minkus. We spoke with your agent?" she confirmed with Jamie.
"Of course. Let's go to the tables," he pointed toward the patio tables.
The star, best known for writing a song about how he would break out of his shell to profess his love for a girl, led us to a rusted patio table with benches. Sarah sat opposite Jamie, and I just lingered while standing, ready to photograph anything worthy of the magazine.
"What would you like to know?" Jamie asked.
"I had a feeling you might've let a few fans down, including myself, when you announced that you were transitioning. What I want to know is, why wait until recently to come out of the closet? If your true self was hidden the entire time, why didn't we get hints of anything during your prime?" Sarah fired away with the questions.
"I am not becoming a woman in vain," Jamie answered firmly. "I will never tire of being a biological man. Because, to tell you the truth in all this confusion, hormone therapy is a sham."
"A sham?" Sarah asked, getting somewhat confused.
"For the first week, things had changed. Each week, I had felt my transition progress doubly. The second week, things were twice as intense. The third week, things were twice as intense as the second week–"
"Okay, okay, okay," Sarah didn't want to hear the redundancy. "Is there something that clicked in your mind? Did something convince you to detransition?"
"Once my voice lightened up, and my chest started growing, I looked in the mirror. That person in the reflection was not who I wanted to be eventually. I still wanted to be Jamie Coffey. The transition process that I went through turned out to be a phase of life. I can't believe I was so stupid enough to go through with it," he started tearing up. "Now, I have to reverse the effects with what little of my royalties I have left," he wiped a single tear with his hand.
*click*
Sarah finally found the answer to her article. Her works have flown under the radar lately. Now, this piece about Jamie Coffey is going to be gold! This will probably be the hottest story that has ever been written by Sarah Carpenter. I'm so proud of her.
I was watching TV alone in my bedroom at the Minkus International penthouse. Nobody is here with me, and Riley was at my house taking shelter. With the interns out of my sight for one night, I watched this show called "Ladies of Improv" where ladies improvise scenes based on audience suggestions. This segment that I stumbled on was that question-answer, answer-question show parody.
"'Tastes like disappointment' for a hundred," a bottle-blonde girl acting as a ditzy Southern Belle selected the next category.
"Tastes like disappointment," the host echoed to the audience, who supplied a subject pertaining to the taste of disappointment. The audience shouted many answers, and the clearest one from the host's hearing will be the answer.
"Avocado," she repeated what she had heard. "Avocado is the answer. What is the question?"
"Wamp!" a statuesque brunette shouted to ring in.
"Yes, do you have the response to avocado?"
"Yeah, uhm, who lent his name to the molar mass equation of my favorite element?"
I see why this show is a hit now. They make fun of people. They make fun of words. They instantly make up things, and that's what makes them funny and insanely talented. The smiles on their faces as they're having a good time makes them most attractive.
I shouldn't have that feeling in my pants, but I do now. Luckily, I was not wearing a shirt, but a pair of jeans had covered my lower half. As I undid my jeans and pushed them down, I saw that I was hard through dark briefs. I braced myself for seven and a half inches of naughty.
Then the bedside phone rang, frightening me out of my view of attractive and funny women. I muted the TV with the remote and picked up the phone, placing the receiver to my ear... and they pick the wrong damn time to call!
"Thank you for calling the Minkus International Hotline, this is–"
"Farkle! I'm glad I caught you," Maya's voice interrupted me on the other end, sounding serious.
"Um, hello," I said after being interrupted. I'm not happy. "This better be good, Maya."
"I need your help," she said.
"Go ahead," I obliged.
"Have you been taking pictures of me behind my back?" the blonde went straight to the point.
WHAT? WHAT? Oh. Ouch. Ow! That blows. That fucking blows. Being accused of stalking.
"What pictures? I've only ever been on assignment. I'd only take pictures of you if you asked me to," I said. "And you know this, Maya. Why are you accusing me?" I was too tired to sound mad.
"I'm not, Farkle. I just... Where are these pictures coming from? Who's after me?" she sounded desperate.
I laid there in bed, watching a bunch of women improvising scenes and singing instantly-made-up songs on a muted television set. I had blanked again until Maya snapped me out of it.
"Farkle? Farkle?"
"Sorry, did I nod off again?" I immediately snapped back into reality.
"Who is taking pictures of me if you're not?" she was close to crying.
"I don't know," I murmured. "I have no idea. Goodnight, Maya."
"Goodnight, Farkle," I heard her cry before sobbing as I slowly returned the phone to its base.
What the hell was she thinking, going off and accusing me like that? Maya knows I'm dedicated to my job. I have no time for games! I know she's being stalked, but I sure ain't the one doing it! If she showed me the pictures, she could give me a lead. However, she should be turning to a certain private investigator whom she dubs "Uncle Boing."
As I unmuted the TV and returned to my "activity," all I heard was laughter and female voices. While they were hot and attractive, only one gorgeous girl graced my mind. I had reminisced the last few times we had done it. Even if regret had laden our minds, it was something that we desperately needed. I think that after that encounter, I can never have sex in vain again. It may be a risky resolution, but it is what I want.
I stroked myself to full hardness. Thoughts of Riley, and only Riley, plagued my soul. My imagination had run wild. I wanted Riley to take me. For once, it wasn't a thought that I could be so bitter about. I then thought of her face... that time she made that face when I told her that whatever she let out can be taken care of later. When she screamed "NOW!" I had quickly grabbed a tissue from my bedside stand and emptied myself into it. I did not cry. I choked. Remembering how beautiful sex with Riley was... it almost hurt. It hurt so much that it wore me out. I needed to rest.
I turned off the TV, so I can fall asleep. However, millions of thoughts flooded my head...
"What the heck does that mean?" Keilani asked at the penthouse slumber party about my past with Missy Bradford AKA Melissa Suarez.
"Melissa Suarez is the kind of person who is ambitious, but goes about it the wrong way. She'll lie, cheat, and steal to earn her throne. When she's caught in the act, she retaliates by sending someone to spy on the people on her crap list," Rolanda elaborated for me.
"Riley, stop!" I held Riley firmly by her wrists one morning at my house.
"If I can be honest with myself, I'll know what I'm looking for," Maya told me during a power brunch.
"I kept the money and told my parents... they wouldn't believe me!" Rolanda cried the other night about her being sexually assaulted.
"Ooh, Farkle, how did you know?" Riley asked after I began pleasing and teasing her foot.
"Let me guess. They watch 'Ow! My Balls!' on the weekends?" Josh asked sarcastically, to which I answered affirmatively.
"I don't wanna miss 'Ow! My Balls!'" Keilani said as she rushed inside the penthouse the other night.
"Come back with my gum, Farkle!" Rolanda screamed at me after I planted one on her in the hallway.
"Farkle, is there something you did that I don't know?" Riley asked me.
"Cheers," Charlie and Lucas clinked glasses after tying for a loss in the game of Hearts.
"Oh, I'm not going to tell her. You are," I felt a smug smile creep upon my face when Darby questioned my ability to keep a secret, especially one about the tall tattletale herself.
"I wanna know," I confronted Riley when I knew something was bugging her.
"How long?" Riley questioned when I pierced my tongue.
"You can back out anytime."
"I did it for you!"
"Don't sell yourself so short, kiddo."
"To my dearest son," she wrote to me as the clock ticked. "I am doing this for you. You will thank me later." I saw the note and walked to the closet and saw her, hanging from the ceiling. I just imagined the same thing happening to me. Someone was hanging me from the balcony.
Stop, stop, just STOP IT!
...I woke up and was out of breath. Now I know where Riley was coming from when she said she was stressed out. The stress is eating away at her because she's withholding information from me that mustn't be let out. What has she done that makes her not want to forgive herself? How could her unforgivable act impact me? Is this the part where our unconditional love becomes conditional? I, too, have been keeping some information to myself, but I'm working on letting Riley find out the hard way. If she heard it from me, then someone will deny it. I just hope these secrets don't eat away so much of us that we take them to our graves. Like my mom.
It has been hard to keep my mind focused lately. I've discovered more secrets. Secrets, I didn't even want to know, but I do. My question is, which way is the right way to go forward? And which way will Riley wander?
