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Well, it finally happened.
I'm on my own.
I always felt like a ghost, drifting from place to place, being talked at
instead of talked to...
Don't make trouble, keep your room clean, remember you're lucky to be here...
the anthem of my childhood. That's the curse of foster care... they get paid to
take care of you, so you are a commodity to them. As long as your ass is in the
house, the cash comes in. Making waves is strongly discouraged, so I learned to
get along from an early age.
I really don't remember my parents. My dad died before I was born, and my mom by
the time I was three. I have a vague memory of loving arms, a sweet smell, and a
feeling of contentment... and that's it. The rest of my life has been filled
with an ever-changing parade of foster parents, some okay and some bad. Mostly
bad...
And now I'm 18. The foster care system has deemed me able to take care of
myself, but Christ! I'm still a kid, in high school even. But my "free
ride" (such as it has been) has come to an end. My foster
"father," such as he is, informed me today that I have until next week
to get my shit together and either get out of his house or find a way to pay
rent. If I can't support myself (and him), than I have to find another place to
live. Well, fuck him. I don't need his bullshit or his roof, I can do it on my
own. I'm sure I can find a job, somewhere...
****
I've combed through all the classified ads, but the only jobs I'm qualified for
pay minimum wage, and I can't see being able to support myself on a fry cooks
salary. I even applied for several of those low paying, dead end jobs... dish
washer, bus boy, gas station attendant... only to be turned down for a lack of
experience. If no one will hire me, how can I get any experience? There seems to
be a conspiracy...
After my latest fiasco in the job market (how much experience is needed to wash
cars, anyway?), I needed to get away from it all, to relax a bit and forget my
troubles. I had heard from some of the slackers at school that there was this
bar that seemed to not care much about ID's. They went there all the time, and
got served and everything. So I figured, why not? I mean, what do I have to
lose?
Since I didn't have a doctored ID, I decided to dress to the nines to make sure
I got in the door. If I can make the doorman think that I'd love to blow him,
I'm in. So I pulled on my tightest black jeans, a two sizes too small white
T-shirt, and my old black leather jacket from Goodwill. I ran my fingers through
my hair as I looked in the mirror, practicing my "fuck me" face. I was
going to get in that door if it killed me! This was my night, I was gonna shine.
Who knows, everything could change for me tonight.
As I ran out the door, my foster dad yelled after me. "What do you think,
this is a hotel! You better be home before 1:00, or the door will be locked.
Don't bother knocking... " his voice faded off into the distance. I've got
to get out of here.
****
I arrived at the club at about 11:00. The line was non-existant, and I smiled
brightly at the bouncer at the door, hoping he didn't ask for ID. I made sure to
stare at his mouth, then drop my eyes to his basket, even though he was nothing
special. The spark in his eye was all I needed to see.. I knew I was in.
"Hey, I get off at 2:00," he said under his breath, as he rubbed his
dick. "Wanna hook up, baby?"
I'd have promised anything to get in the door... he'd have to find me later to
take me up on it, and I figured I'd be long gone by then. "Sure, big
boy," I answered throatily, throwing my sultriest smile at him. He stepped
back and let me enter the club.
As I walked through the door, I felt 10 feet tall. I had managed to talk my way
into a bar, and the rest of my life lay in front of me. Oh, yeah, I'd be fine on
my own...
Glancing around casually at the clientele, I noticed that there seemed to be a
large number of older guys, and a smaller group of young guys, some of whom
seeemed even younger than me. Most of the younger guys were pretty thin and
twinkie like, although a number of them seemed to be a bit worn down and rough
around the edges. The older guys were all sharp glances and penetrating eyes,
and something in their gaze unsettled me. While I felt like a hot young stud,
their looks made me feel like raw meat... easily available raw meat. I felt
naked under their gaze.
I noticed one of the rougher young ones... long messy dirty brown hair, strong
jaw, ancient eyes who seemed to own the place. He sat with his back to the bar,
legs spread wide, leaning back on his elbows as he laughed with his friends, two
scruffy dark haired kids. As he chatted, he threw hot glances around the room,
seeming to dare all present to approach him. I wished I could be as self
confident as he was. Suddenly, his gaze was upon me, burning me. As he stared, I
felt myself move toward him. Before I knew it, I found myself standing next to
him at the bar.
"You new here?" he asked, scanning me from head to toe, stopping in
all the right places.
"Yeah, this is my first time." I responded.
He laughed. "First time, huh? I don't even remember my first time..."
This drew laughs from his peanut gallery.
"Yeah, Hunter, you were just a baby..." Dark Hair #1 starts snidely.
"Shut the fuck up!" Hunter yells, silencing him with a glare. Quickly
gathering his composure, he turns back to me.
"Sorry for the idiot over there," he says, casting a dismissing glance
at Dark Haired #1. "And you would be..."
"Jason. My names Jason."
*** tbc ***
Should I try more?
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