by Emily Bourne
“Neons or the hoods?”
Gene’s face screws up. “They had coloured spiky hair. What are the hoods?”
“Just another gang. They wear hooded clothing or cloaks. Both are bad as each other,” Adrian explains. “It’s getting outta control out there. I’m glad you’re off the streets.”
Adrian leads the way to the dining room, and Gene’s eyes widen at the crowd of people sitting around the long-stretched plastic tables.
“Who are all these people?” Gene whispers as Adrian shows him to the food.
“Just people who need food and shelter.” Adrian tilts his head. “Like you.”
Gene chews his lip as he pans over the faces at the table. Like me?
“Adrian,” a female voice calls out. Gene turns around as she asks, “Have you seen Myra and Taz?”
Gene gasps, chin ready to drop to the floor. Her silky raven hair, her glowing olive skin, and toned fitness-pro physique. “You’re Jazz Abadi,” he announces loud enough for all the heads in the room to turn in his direction.
Jazz’s mouth juts open and close as she looks side-to-side, waving her hands to signal a mistake. “What? No, you’re mistaking me for someone.”
“Jazz?” Adrian questions.
Jazz looks up to the ceiling, wincing.
“It is you,” Gene says, stepping towards her, hands clasped. “I love you. I follow everything you do.”
Jazz looks over his shoulder to Adrian with pleading eyes.
“How do you know each other?” Adrian asks.
Jazz’s eyes droop, but Gene is too excited to notice. He spins to Adrian. “She’s Jazz Abadi. Hello. Who doesn’t know her?”
“Stop,” Jazz pleads, stomping behind him.
Gene spins to her. “What?”
Jazz doesn’t answer and instead turns and races out of the dining room.
Gene turns back to Adrian, who has confusion written all over his face.
“How do you know her?” Adrian asks in a low tone.
Gene mutters nonsensical words. What? How can he ask that? Everyone follows Jazz Abadi.
Hiding
JAZZ’S hands shake over the bathroom basin. She stomps her foot, frowning at her reflection. She knew she had been kidding herself that no one would recognise her and blurt it out in front of the entire shelter. She has a high public profile. It surprises her it has lasted this long.
She clenches her jaw, turning on the cold water. I hope this doesn’t get out and Ethan finds me. If he found this place, he’d probably destroy it just to spite me. The Mayor wants to close down The Limits. Ethan would tell him to start here. I can’t let that happen.
She splashes cold water over her face and inhales deeply. She needs to find Adrian and apologise for not being forthright with him.
Oof! Jazz leaves the bathroom and thwacks into someone. She smooths down her clothes and pulls back her hair to see the wide eyes of the boy that exposed her.
“Oh, hi,” she says flatly.
“I’m sorry,” he rushes, waving his hands madly. “I’m just such a huge fan. I didn’t know you were undercover or something. But that’s crazy. How does no one know who you are?”
“Some do,” Jazz replies. “They just don’t have big mouths.”
The boy grows pale. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks. He pulls out his phone and opens his Collage account and scrolls through Jazz’s feed. “I watch everything you do.” The screen goes black. “Crap, it’s dead.”
Jazz grabs his shoulder and spins him around. “There’s a charger in the common room.”
“Oh ok,” he says, letting Jazz push him along. “I’m Gene, by the way. I’m gay.”
“You say that like it’s your occupation.”
“I’m just not hiding anymore.”
Jazz lets him go, pats his back, and smiles. “Well, that’s good, Gene. You shouldn’t hide who you are.”
“So, why are you?” He sucks in a breath when Jazz glares at him. “I’m sorry. It’s just I was wondering why your feed went silent. It’s so unlike you.”
“I’m just taking a break. Everyone needs a break, right?”
“Sure. I just would have thought you would announce a hiatus, not disappear. Did you plan to volunteer here? And what about the company restructure?”
Jazz sighs, sick of his questions. She pushes him down the hall, past the boys’ bedrooms, and shoves him into the common room. “You’ll find the charger in here.” She nods at Ferg and Max. “You can hang with these boys.”
Gene stammers words to continue their conversation, but Jazz is quick down the hall. She shakes out her hair, thrown off her plan to speak to Adrian. Gene has rattled her. She’s getting a strong urge to retreat and leave the shelter altogether.
Her pace slows as she weighs the options of heading into the dining room or retreating to her bedroom. Adrian appears in the hall.
She flexes her fingers and wears her best customer service smile. When his eyebrows lift, she drops the smile and shrugs. He always sees through me.
Jazz lifts a hand in a mediocre wave, and says, “Hi.”
Adrian moves towards her. “What are you after? Did you keep your identity secret because you want to take over the site for one of your gyms? Just because we’re short on cash doesn’t mean––”
“Adrian.” She lifts her hands to stop his line of thought. “I’m not after the shelter.”
He points a finger between her eyes. “I don’t trust people like you. What’s the angle?”
Her hands collapse over her heart. “I’m not trying to steal this place from you.”
Adrian shakes his head and pushes past her towards his office.
“Adrian,” she calls out. Her body slumps, angry at herself for not being honest with him. For not telling him how she could save this place.
Family
ADRIAN throws the papers off his desk. Frustrated breaths race out of him. After Jazz ran out of the dining room, Gene filled him in on who she really is. Adrian feels every ounce of blood pumping through his veins. His hands make fists and his teeth grit to stop himself from punching the wall.
How could I be so stupid? The betrayal clings to his body and droops his posture. Resentment takes control of his mind as he thinks about the privacy awarded to people who walk through the shelter’s door. Who else is under this roof with false pretences? He knew there was something off about Jazz, but he let his attraction for her stop him from digging. She was secretive in a different way from most people. He should have known better and kept his guard up.
He was about to give her access to the shelter’s money. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. She’s a corporate business person. The type of person he distrusts the most. Corruption.
He thinks about the new boy he let in. He sits on his desk, picks up the phone, and dials the number for social services. He promised himself he wouldn’t let in another mouth to feed. But seeing the boy made his heartstrings pull. The shine to his eyes told Adrian he needed help. Not to mention the bruises to his face. How could he turn his back? He listens to the on-hold music and knows getting a caseworker to help the boy will give himself one less problem.
There was a knock on his door and he grunted, “Go away.”
“Adrian, it’s Eddy. Can I come in?”
Adrian scratches his head with the phone receiver and then rests it on his shoulder. “Fine.”
Eddy steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I just ran into Jazz.”
Adrian rolls his eyes, not wanting to talk about her, and slides the phone up to his ear.
“What’s going through your mind?” Eddy asks, sitting on a chair and taking his time to meet Adrian’s eyes.
“I just need to call someone to take care of this kid.”
“What kid?”
“A new one I just let in.”
“I thought you––”
“––Just don’t,” Adrian snaps.
Eddy stands and steps forward. “Hey, it’s cool. I kno
w how strong your need to help people is.”
“But that won’t help the others.” His knuckles whiten around the phone. “We won’t be able to feed anyone or keep the power on.”
“Adrian,” Eddy says, holding out an arm toward his friend. “Why don’t you put the phone down? You’re not in the right frame of mind to make this call.”
Adrian tugs away from Eddy. “No.”
“Let’s just talk about this first.”
“I just want to tell them to come.”
“Why? It’s not like you. You avoid social workers.”
Adrian drops the phone and sweeps his hands over his face. “I can’t help him.”
Eddy pulls his friend into a hug. “Talk to me. You’re putting too much stress and responsibility on yourself. Tell me what you need and I’ll make the calls.”
Adrian rests his chin on Eddy’s shoulder, and lets out a breath that had clogged his chest. He shakes his head and pushes away from Eddy. He picks up the phone and says, “No, I gotta do this now.”
Eddy moves away, hands slung in his pockets. “You’re not alone. Remember that. And Jazz wasn’t trying to deceive you.”
Adrian snorts a laugh. “You want to help me? Tell her to leave.”
Eddy’s shoulders droop. “Adrian.”
“I don’t trust her.” Someone answers on the other end of the phone. “Yes hi, it’s Adrian Cassidy from the shelter off Jordan Street. I’ve got a kid here who needs some help.”
“Hang up,” Eddy whispers.
Adrian bats his hand, giving more details to the agent.
Eddy leans over the table and hits end call.
“What are you doing?”
“Talk to the kid first. We don’t even know where he’s come from. I get that you don’t want to get attached, but let me do it. Maybe he’s not that hard on his luck and we can get him back home.”
Adrian places the phone in the cradle. “Ok, fine. Get him home.”
“Social services is always our last resort,” Eddy says, opening the door. “I’m surprised at you. You know what that system is like.”
Adrian’s posture slumps as he follows Eddy to the door. “I wanted a quick solution. I wasn’t thinking.”
“You want to help the kid, then don’t make the call so hastily.” Eddy pats his shoulder. “Introduce me to him?”
“Yeah.” Adrian halts in the hallway. “He left to find Jazz.”
“You can’t judge her just because she has money.”
“What is she doing here if she has money?”
Eddy meets his eyes. “Money isn’t a barrier to needing help. We are here to help anyone who has run from any kind of abuse. You need to check your prejudice at the door.”
“You think I’m prejudiced?”
Eddy lifts his eyebrows and continues down the hall.
“Eddy.”
“Everyone has baggage. You still need to unpack yours.”
Adrian picks up his pace to follow his friend. “I’m not doing it now. Let’s just find the kid.”
They move towards the bedrooms as a commotion sounds from the common room.
“What was that?” Eddy asks as Adrian turns and moves toward the common room.
Adrian jogs into the common room and yells, “Hey,” as soon as he sees Ferg and Max cornering Gene.
“What?” all three boys reply.
Adrian throws his hands up. “What’s going on in here?”
Gene shows his phone screen, attached to a cord plugged into the wall behind him. “I was just showing them a video.”
“Check out this kid’s phone,” Max cheers, gesturing to Gene.
“He’s got the latest,” Ferg adds, grinning.
Adrian walks up to them, nodding at Gene. “What was the yelling then?”
Max taps Gene’s phone and the video replays. “Watch.”
Adrian angles his head as he approaches Gene. On the video, a boy rides a scooter in a skate rink. He zooms high into the air and comes down into a horrific landing.
“Ehck,” Adrian retches, looking away. “Why are you watching that?”
Gene shrugs. “It’s the only way I know how to make friends with straight boys.”
Ferg pats Gene’s back. “And that he did.”
Adrian pans across the boys’ faces. “So, we’re good here?”
“Yep,” the boys reply, all smiling and nodding.
Adrian locks eyes with Gene. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Gene’s eyes brighten, and he nods eagerly.
Adrian gestures to the couch and Gene follows him over.
“You good?” Eddy asks, walking by the couch.
Adrian nods, knowing Eddy wants him to talk to Gene on his own.
Eddy nods back and moves to the pool table. “Ferg and Maxy, game of pool?”
The boys move over to the pool table with Eddy as Adrian and Gene take the couch.
Adrian’s stomach swirls as he readies himself for the first question. “So, how long have you been on the streets?”
Gene shakes his head. “Just yesterday.”
“Oh.” Adrian’s spirits lift with hope. “Were you with family before?”
“Yeah. I left my mum and dad.” Gene sighs with frustration. “I just couldn’t stay with them.”
Adrian winces at the bruise on the side of his face. “It got physical?”
“Yeah. My dad’s reaction to me coming out.”
Adrian presses his stomach and looks to his knees. “I’m sorry.”
Gene sinks into the couch. “I’m just not going to hide who I am anymore.”
“That’s what your parents want? You to hide your sexuality?”
“More like deny it. They want me to lie about who I am to make themselves feel better.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you see a way you can work this out with them?”
Gene twists his lips. “Only if I play it straight.”
“Has your father gotten physical before yesterday?”
“Not this bad.”
Adrian’s stomach contracts and throbs. “It’d be great if you could work out a way to go home. Otherwise, we need to call social services, and you don’t want to be in the foster care system.”
“Maybe it’d better?”
“No,” Adrian says with a slow shake of the head. “I spent years in foster homes. Maiden City can be an unkind place.”
“What happened to your family?”
Adrian swallows hard as his mind grows woozy. “They died.”
Gene grows a whiter shade of pale. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” Adrian murmurs, waving a hand to change the subject. “I just want to tell you from experience to try your best not to go into foster care. It would have been good growing up in a proper family.”
Gene frowns but nods. “I’ll think about it.”
Adrian stands and moves toward the doorway. Eddy leaves the pool table and catches up to him, asking, “Everything ok?”
“He’ll think about going back home to his parents.”
Eddy points to his cheek. “So the bruise came from the streets?”
Adrian’s temples ache. He turns to the door and moves into the hall.
“What about Jazz?”
Adrian turns back to Eddy, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Do you still want her gone?”
Adrian huffs and turns away. “Whatever. She can stay... if she really wants to.”
Son
ETHAN straightens his tie and smooths his blazer, twirling a bouquet of tulips as he strides the fourth floor corridor of Maiden City University Hospital.
He stops by a nurse and taps the bouquet against his chest. “Excuse me, Miss. I’m here to see Darius Abadi. How is he today?”
The nurse smiles, clasping her hands and rocking onto the balls of her feet. “He’s doing better, considering. His spirits need lifting, so a visit will do him well.”
Ethan l
ifts his chin, his smile sliding to the right as his gaze pivots to Darius’ room. “Excellent.” He turns back to the nurse and nods. “Thank you, Miss. You are a treasure.”
“Oh,” the young nurse blushes, touching her ash blonde ponytail. “It was nothing.”
Ethan gives her a wink, which makes her gasp enthusiastically, and then spins towards Darius’ room. His heart swells when his charms work to get people to act the way he wants. Jazz didn’t cooperate, and it was a misstep he didn’t expect. The good feeling quickly turns into a seething rage as Jazz’s face clouds his vision.
He knocks on the door twice as it creaks open. “How’s the patient?” he asks, stepping into the room. He walks to the foot of the bed, taking in the beeping sounds and LED signals on the machines. “You’re looking well.”
“What have I told you about lying?” Darius answers in a raspy voice. He folds his arms across his chest, coughing weakly as tubes run into his nose and leads suction to his chest.
“I don’t know if we’ve ever discussed lying,” Ethan says, moving to a chair and making himself comfortable. He places the bouquet on a table, saying, “I’ll have a nurse get a vase with water.”
Darius winces, batting a hand.
“So,” Ethan says, lifting his palms up and out. “Are we having a mentor session, or not? What is your wisdom on lying?”
Darius groans, staring intensely at the ceiling.
Ethan smirks, unbuttoning his blazer. “Ok, it’s your choice. Guess you didn’t impart that knowledge on Jazz either.”
Darius scowls, and the machine at his bedside intensifies with beeps.
Ethan stands and moves towards the window. “Thought I might run into her here.”
“No,” Darius says, his voice strained and hoarse. “My daughter has not checked in on her ailing father.”
Ethan moves to the bed and scoops Darius’ hand in his. “You know I’ll always stand by you.”
Darius’ face softens and his weepy eyes meet Ethan’s. “Thank you... Son.”
Ethan’s jaw flexes. He sniffs, purses his lips and nods. “You know,” he whispers, “the doctors gave me the impression you need to relieve yourself from massive stress. I can take the reins at HQ. You taught me well. Let me act as CEO in your absence.”