When Otis stirred awake again, Katie was right there beside him.

"Hey."

"Mmm..." He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it...?"

"It's 2 in the afternoon, sweetheart. What does it matter? You're still recovering. You're allowed to rest." She pulled the covers back over his shoulders. "I looked at your sketches while you were asleep." She smiled at him. "Goodness, Otis, you have a talent. They're beautiful."

His face reddened, and he sat up.

"And I saw your sketch of yourself. I think you would look quite handsome with long hair. There's one in there that sticks out to me, though. It's a man that looks somewhat like you, but he's not you. Who is that, Otis?"

"...My Dad..."

"I see..." She paused for a moment. "What did he do to you, Otis?" There was so much hatred in fear in that sketch. She could see it, how the lines were more jagged. His expression betrayed it, as well: hateful, cruel.

Otis began to rub his arm anxiously, shaking his head. The last time he had told someone, they laughed at him and threw it in his face, calling him disgusting. Making fun of him for it. He began to tremble slightly as memories flooded back to him. He drew his legs in, still shaking his head. "N...No..."

"No what, sweetie?"

"I...I don't want to tell you...I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Okay. It's okay. You don't have to." She gently cupped his jaw. Stuck in his memories, he flinched away from her, but she didn't relent. "Shhhh..." She soothed. "But I want you to know, Otis...That just...by the way you acted...I know what he did."

Wide-eyed, Otis looked up at her.

"It's okay..." She smiled softly down at him. "You know, I still haven't seen you smile yet. Think you can give that to me sometime?"

Otis nodded. He would work on it.

Katie began to let him up and around to wander, so long as he would come back to stay the night. He set out looking for a job, praying he could find something.

He was desperate. He knew he couldn't stay at the shelter forever. And he didn't have anywhere to stay without it. The winter was a brutal one for the south, the cold straining through his jacket. People would always need their cheap thrills, and when he saw the neon lights, he stopped in awe. Freak was always a painful, vengeful word for him, but maybe he could use that pain for his own gain.

He wandered into the shop, jumping at the jingling doorbell.

"How can I help you, sweetie?" A woman leaned over the counter, thumbing through a magazine, paying him no mind.

"Saw you needed some help."

The woman raised her head, and then seemed startled. "O...Oh...You...You want to be a part of the show, I'm assuming..."

He scoffed. "Don't really fancy bein' called a freak. But y'know...If it pays, it pays." He shrugged.

The woman smirked. "Mmm. I'll get the madame." She wandered away, sashaying down the hallway, swinging her hips.

Another woman followed. Her ebony skin shone with oil in the dim light of the building. Her curly, long black hair fell about her shoulders, and Otis swore he felt himself blush. God, she was gorgeous. In a slim-fitting gold flapper dress and nude high-heels, she looked like a goddess. Her plump lips formed a smile over her porcelain white teeth. Green eyes shone with mischief.

"Hmmm." she looked him up and down. "How do I know that's not body paint and contacts, sweetie?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why the fuck would anyone volunteer to look like this? It's not worth the ridicule."

"And yet here you come to a shop that will display you like a mannequin for the enjoyment of others?"

He smirked, looking down at his shoes. Worn, dirty. His toe ready to poke out of his left. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, mama."

She smirked, taking a drag of a cigarette. "You're one of those people that can talk the birds out of the trees, huh?"

"H...huh?"

"Tell you what, sweet thing. You prove to me it's not all smoke and mirrors, and I'll take you on."

Otis gulped. "H...How do I go about that?"

She beckoned him to follow her, and he did.

She unzipped his coat, and he shivered. God...The last time he had been undressed...

She unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders, nodding in appreciation. "Hmmm...Baby you look like the milky way." She bit her lip. "And I want a taste." She unzipped his trousers, pulling them down.

Otis closed his eyes, sighing shakily. God, what a fucking life. Here he was, standing naked in front of a beautiful woman who wanted to have sex with him, and he didn't want to. He was scared. Too scared of his past. Too scared of the trauma that had just happened.

God knows he didn't want this. But did that make him less of a man? Not wanting this woman?

She pushed him against the bed in the room, and he stiffened. When she climbed on top of him, he yelped in fear.

"Shhhh...Don't you wanna taste?" She pulled her dress to the side, exposing her breasts.

"I...I..." No. He really didn't. He was as surprised as anyone at the fear that took hold of him. It was too soon after...

His heart pounded as she caressed him, all but purring in his ear as he trembled slightly. "Oh, big man. You ain't scared, are you?"

Otis gulped. He was fucking terrified. Damn his parents. Damn them for taking even this away from him. She pressed on his chest, pinning him down. He panicked, struggling against her, grabbing her forearms.

"Oh, sweetie. It's gonna be a rough night for you."

She was right. In some parts more so than others.

He wandered back to the shelter, neck hurting from the sensual bites and nibbles, his back thrown out of place from being ridden like a horse, and his pride and ego more wounded. Was this what he was subjecting himself to? Becoming a male prostitute for women who wanted to have sex with a carnival freak? Cowering at a woman's touch because he was so badly broken?

The next day, Katie served him breakfast. "Hey...Why're you so down? Where were you last night?"

"Out lookin' for a job..."

"Okay...W...why is your neck all bruised?"

He looked at her, shame and regret filling his eyes.

"Otis...You didn't want this, did you?"

He shook his head, looking down at the food in front of him, suddenly nauseated.

"Did...Did they...Did they hurt you?"

He shook his head again.

"Are...Are you okay, sweetie?"

He nodded, rubbing his arm anxiously. "I'll be okay...Ain't nothin' I'm not used to..."

Katie sighed, pulling Otis against her in an embrace. He balked, stiffening in fear, but relented to the affection. "Don't diminish your suffering. You deserve to be able to voice your pain..."

"I'm fine..." He muttered. He wasn't. Of course he wasn't. He was struggling internally more than he ever had. Was this just part of growing up? Or was it because his life was a literal shit storm?

She sighed. "Okay...Hey...Why don't you come to my house for dinner tonight?"

"Huh? Why?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Because I invited you, dummy. I talk about you a lot. my husband wants to meet you."

"O..Oh...I...I...I can't...I...I couldn't-"

"Otis. I'm inviting you. It's just dinner. There's no commitment. You don't have to repay me somehow..."

"O...Okay."