Rent Boy

by James Anthony Ford

  Soon the cafe I was working at changed hands. Well, I mean, it was taken over by new owners and they seemed like a really nice couple. What also happened was a lot of the original staff were sacked, I think, or perhaps they left at their own accord, I’m not really sure, it’s still a bit of a mystery. But I still had my job. But I was good at it. The new owners could also see that I was an asset. They were also very accommodating to ensure my hours at work did not clash with my hours at uni which I appreciated a lot. In fact the new owners really did like me and tried to ensure I was happy working there. During this time when a whole new staff were starting at the newly owned cafe, I met my new best friend. Her name was Kim. She was cutest and most beautiful Vietnamese girl I had ever seen. We had clicked like you never imagine. She was short but a personality that glowed and was gorgeous. As I worked behind the bar and she worked on the floor waitressing we were always told off for chatting too much. We had so much to talk about as we had so much in common. I didn’t realise but along with Kim doing the staff she also had some other close friends of her doing the team which she introduced me to. There Stav, Brendan, Sherry and Kim’s sister Tammy. All six of started to become like a group of friends.

  During our breaks at the cafe we sat down drinking our lattes and I discovered that they go out quite a bit on the gay scene and dance parties. I mentioned that I used to be a bit of a raver but they were not really into raves that much, they were more into the gay dance parties. I was fascinated with these gay dance parties I have only heard about. They spoke with a passion of how exciting they were. From the lead up to the party, to choosing your outfit, getting your recreational drugs and just having a wild time. I started to miss the nights I had at the raves and was hoping they would ask me to join them. So they did. That night we went out to in infamous gay club called ‘The Peel’. That night, it was like it all started again back in my rave days. We took an ecstasy tablet each and danced the whole night. It was great. The feeling of euphoria was like a long lost friend that night. The six of us at the club bonded. We became the best of buddies. It’s amazing what drugs can do to grow a friendship. We were facing the buzz of life head on. My inner party boy suddenly exploded with an attitude that close to the razors edge. Watch out Melbourne; here come Jay!

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  Chapter seven................Sausage rolls and a recovery party or two

  The next few months the friendship of Kim and the other five became close. Our lives were based on living for the weekend. Thinking about it now, our routine back then seemed so wasted. It was because during the weekdays, we all did our own thing whilst planning the upcoming weekend whether it be just clubbing or a dance party. We spent the whole week shopping for a new outfit to wear, scoring some ecstasy and speed, working out who is going to go in whose car on the way to the venue and the list just goes on and on. It was so silly but it all had one purpose; to party like its 1999. Our lives were all about the parties and the drugs. I began to also think that our friendship was based on parties and drugs, nothing else. It was very superficial but at the time, I just didn’t care. We were just having fun.

  I soon started to reduce the number of subjects at uni, in fact I got to the point of doing only one subject for a while cause I was so focussed on partying all the time. It was like partying was a full time job that I was not being paid for. Well, apart from the odd ‘favours’ I was asked to do by seedy old men in clubs just see me naked in the toilet cubicles. It was the easier hundred bucks I earned.

  The weekend ranged from the lead up to a party event to allowing time to come down and recover from the drugs. It was really a full time job!

  I remember every time a new nightclub opened in Melbourne it was the hip thing to be put on the guest list for opening night. It was huge deal and we always seemed to get on the guest lists. Kim and Stav seemed to know everyone in the gay scene. I didn’t really know anyone else. There were clubs like ‘Savage’ on Friday night which were sort of classified as gay friendly but was the club of its time. It always went off. Drugs were readily available inside the club. The drug of choice of course during this time was all about the ecstasy. Then when you meet someone inside the club it was always started with “So what are you on tonight?” Then it was a matter of outdoing the next person with one person saying “I have three e’s tonight and a gram of speed”, then the next person would say “Yeah, well I have five e’s, a gram of speed and some crystal meth”. It was all about the drugs that bound people together. The thing was, was that I knew that was the case, but didn’t care. We all felt good and wanted to party. It was all very superficial. Especially when it came to taking your top off to show off your chiselled abs and sculptured chest which got me a lot of attention. I probably should mention that it was about the time I started going back out into the gay scene that I started working out at the gym to achieve the ultimate body. Or at least try. It did produce results. I was quite proud of my body and it was always that, that got me the most attention from guys and also girls. See how superficial this fucked up scene is?

  Although in the gay club scene it was all about how good you looked, mainly the muscle image I was actually quite shy. The thing was, I knew my body looked good because everyone including strangers told me so, so I thought it must be true. But I never really felt confident. The fact is, is that I thought I was ugly and that it was only my body that people admired. It was not about my personality, in fact people thought I had an attitude, and it was not about my looks. I don’t think I ever felt like an attractive man. In my mind, there’s a difference between someone telling you that you look hot but you don’t actually feel attractive. I really thought I was hideous. So I never had the confidence to try and pick up someone at a club. I never approached anyone. It was the other guy that always approached me. Ironically, every time I was approached by a guy at a club they always said something along the lines of “I think you are so hot”, or “You’re the hottest guy here”, or “You have the hottest body I’ve ever seen”. I never ever replied to these comments as my immediate reaction in my mind was “Are you blind?” I didn’t understand why anyone would think I was attractive. So yes, I had a problem with self-esteem even though I had qualities about me that could override that. There were times that I would look at myself in the mirror and had to look away.

  Despite my insecurities I always gave the impression that I was proud of flaunting my body. I was also trying to erase the typical flamboyant gay stereotype. When I went out, the attire was mainly a pair of jeans and no top. However the emphasis was oiling up your bronzed body. It was quite often if I was asked if I was gay or not as people were really not quite sure. I didn’t really act gay, in fact the idea was to try and act as masculine as possible. I didn’t want people think I was straight but I also did not want them to think I was gay. It sounds like a contradiction but I was just wanting people to be curious about me and wonder “Is he, or isn’t he?”

  Clubbing as you have guessed by now was a huge chunk of our lives, we lived for it. The clubbing life was a routine for a while of the following itinerary. Thursday nights we went to a gay only club called ‘The Peel’, this was quite casual and usually no drugs that night. Fridays night it was a club called ‘Savage’. Saturday nights it was a club called ‘The Mansion’ but when they closed down that club we went to the infamous club called ‘The Dome’. Then Sunday nights was varied with either ‘The Peel’ or ‘The Milk Bar’. Then of course came the best part of all on a Saturday night, or I should say Sunday morning, the recovery party. This was a club we went to after the Saturday night club and was only attended by the hard core party animals. No prizes for guessing who that included! The recovery club of choice by us, which also happened to be my favourite were the clubs called ‘Tasty’ before it got closed down and then the offspring club from ‘Tasty; ‘Uranus’. These clubs were the hippest and coolest in Melbourne and were dark, d
irty and very underground. The music rocked. They played the coolest dirtiest deep house, funky hard garage, it just pumped. I loved it. The bass rocked right through your body as the adrenaline rushed throughout every organ in your body. These clubs did not open until about 3 or 4 am and didn’t close until about 6 pm Sunday evening or if the police came in and close them down. There was not one person in the recovery clubs that were not on drugs, everyone was high, and very sexed up. These clubs had no fancy decor or state of the art lighting systems. They were also hard to locate as they were hidden behind inner city warehouses with a back alley entrance. They were dark, deep and dirty and smelt like pure steamy hot sex. It was not a cruise club though it was very much as place were a lot of guys picked each other up or had sex in the toilet cubicles. I am guilty of that on a regular basis when I was out of it. It was Kim and I that attended the recovery parties almost every Sunday as we just wanted to keep partying. A lot of people thought that Kim and I were boyfriend and girlfriend cause of the way we acted. But we were just best friends. That caused a bit of a problem though as a lot of guys thought I was straight so they did not approach me that often. I was also a bit unapproachable as I did have a bit of an attitude. When I was high on drugs, my confidence soared and I didn’t care what other people thought. Even though deep inside I was not confident about myself, I knew I looked good. Well, it must have been true, because everyone seemed to think so at the time.

  Apart from the clubs I’ve mentioned there have of course been many others. The longevity of a new club opening up was quite short. They would be flavour of the month for a few months then they would close down and then another one would open up, then that one becomes the new hip club. Then there was ‘Red Raw’. It was the one and only party. ‘The party’, in my eyes. This was the annual party to end all parties. As far as I am concerned ‘Red Raw’ was way better than any New Years Eve Party and better than any Sydney Mardi Gras party. This was attended by Melbourne’s elite. Although this was classed as a gay event, it was also attended by a lot of straight’s that thought they were cool. I didn’t really mind that straight people went to this party, as most of my friends were straight anyway, but a lot of gay people despised the idea. It was typical for a bunch of pretentious faggots to be so superficial.

  The ‘Red Raw’ party was held in mid to late January every year and was always well anticipated. The planning stages for us started well before, like in October prior. We started planning what we were going to wear at that stage. Red raw was a major gay dance party so the attire always had to be hot and sexy. As it was also summer, so less was more. This applied to both guys and girls. It was also amazing that with the days or weeks leading up to the big party was like some massive health kick. We, meaning my friends and I, committed ourselves on eating really healthy foods, drinking heaps of water and freshly squeezed juices, taking vitamins and of course for the superficial part of it, going to the gym more than usual.

  Once the big day arrived for the party, we basically spent the entire day phoning each other up and organising who was to go in whose car, who will pick who first, and the most important question of all, have you got your drugs? Our drug of choice was always ecstasy, it was pointless and completely defeated the purpose if you did not pop an ‘e’ on the night. With us, the evening started with one ‘e’ then progress from there. We never arrived at the party before 1 am, it was just too uncool to arrive early. We always popped one e about half an hour before we arrived. The vibe in the car on the way to the party was pure party time. You could cut our excitement with a knife, we were buzzing. Or perhaps that was the line of speed we had as well as the one ‘e’.

  After we parked the car, we walked to the warehouse where the party was following the thumping sound of the bass filling the balmy summer evening air. The car park was always quite a distance from the actual warehouse but half the fun was the walk to the party. It was always Kim and I walking hand in hand and our other buddies hugging and smiling as we practically skipped with joy to the party.

  So we finally arrived at the entrance ticket in hand. The security staff did bag searches and a very brief and quick body search. The security staff were not stupid, they knew we were carrying drugs, everyone was, so just gave you a bit a half smile and let you in. The main aim was to prevent weapons from getting in, and that never happened. Everyone was too happy to cause violence anyway. So the body search was quick and we eagerly jolted to the warehouse screaming ‘Yahoo!’ Immediately walking into the warehouse the atmosphere consumed you. It was pure magic. This was our playground. The music was pumping quality bump and grind house. This was real sexy, dirty house music, not the crap they have the nerve to call house on the radio, when in fact it’s pop. The DJ’s were usually stationed on a huge scaffolding type structure overlooking the sea of smiling, happy people. They were our god for the night. We beckoned for the DJ and prayed that our bloody drugs were good! And for the most part, they were. So then soon we started to peak on our ‘e’s. Our screaming to each other on the dance floor, which was in fact conversation cause the music was so loud, stopped. We just danced in our world. The lights glowed on our eyes and the whites of our eyes shined. Smiles were tattooed permanently on our faces and our dancing became intense. Bodies started sweating and men drifted closer and closer to you. The drifting of the sweating, bronzed, muscular bodies came to a halt once they rubbed against your skin. The feeling was pure heat. The music somehow felt as if it was getting louder and louder and you just kept think this music is so cool it’s beyond recognition. All I wanted to do was dance and fuck. I felt relaxed but out of control. My euphoria was overwhelming me. I never felt so alive or so loving of another person. I loved everyone and everything. I felt a guy’s hand on arse as I was dancing which then I turned around to take a look at him. He was hot. I turned my back on him and he put both his hands on my bare sweating chest, rubbing them up and down my chiselled abs. His body was grinding on mine. I could feel it pulsate. I could feel every heartbeat in sync with the bass of the music. I could feel him rub the slight whiskers of his face against the back of my neck, gently kissing me. It made me melt with intense sexual desire. My heart began to beat faster. I wanted to fuck him so bad it hurt. The rush of adrenaline increased with intensity. I almost forgot about Kim and the others and I saw Kim a few metres away with a huge smile on her face and dancing away in her own world. She knew the score, she knew what I was up to and she loved the sight. We kept dancing, and dancing and we could not stop. The music was just too good and it rocked. The sound of the crowd got louder with screams of joy and praying to the DJ. For hours we soaked up the pumping atmosphere and being completely consumed by the intense euphoria we were all sharing. This half naked muscled bodies bumped and grinded against you harder and harder that it became almost sex on the dance floor

  As our happy pills started to come down off the peaking stage it was evident that everyone was as horny as hell. The guy, who had no name, (wink-wink!), grabbed my hand and we wandered through the sea of stompers. I didn’t question it, I was still too high and did not have a paranoid thought or piece of anxiety in my head. I was completely relaxed but energized so I just wandered along with him. He was holding hand and sort of leading the way to what I got the impression was, a destination. So we soon arrived the port-a-loo toilets, just outside the entrance of the club. There was a queue was somehow this ‘non named hot guy’ used his intimidating pumped up muscular body to jump the queue and he pulled my arm with him. I knew the deal. Without a second to spare we went into one the spare dirty toilet cubicles with toilet paper and water everywhere. It was also quite humorous that there were a lot of empty little plastic drug everywhere, and I mean absolutely everywhere. Then we locked the door and went straight at it. Full on sex. Both our cocks looked like they were about to explode. The walls were vibrating and we were trying not to scream with ecstasy, you could only hear our heavy breathing. Never before have I wanted sex like this before. Dirty, unsolicited sex. But safe, I alwa
ys insisted on a condom. Ironically the guy I was having sex with didn’t want to use one, but I insisted, so we did. The sex went for just 2o minutes but it was so amazingly intense lust and passion, we almost ate eat other alive. He was so hot it made me melt and I wanted his body so bad, it hurt. After, well, after 3 or four times of cumming, we parted. I never saw ever again. That’s the way I wanted. I had fun, now it’s time for the next one. Let’s go shopping!

  Now for what I call the best part of the night, and Kimmy also would agree, it was the recovery parties after the dance parties that were a highlight, if not, THE highlight. The Red Raw recoveries were kind of divided into what they called the ‘official’ recovery party and a few other parties in clubs around Melbourne. The official recovery party was seen as an obvious choice so it was not really seen as a really cool party. It was the other parties like at clubs such as ‘Tasty’ and ‘Uranus’ or ‘Freakazoid’ that were the best. All these 3 clubs were infamous for its, well, let’s just say controversial subject matter. But were very cool clubs and no frills. The aim of these clubs were all about the dark grungy atmosphere, minimal lights, hot glamour people and the best underground house and garage on the planet. My club of choice were we spent most of our recovery was at Uranus. After the actual dance party we always went back to either mine or Stav’s house to ‘freshen up’. A couple of lines of speed kept us on track of things and perhaps sown another ‘eccy’ when we get there. We promised ourselves that that would be our max drug intake for the night. So we chilled out for a couple of hours, oiled up the body again, a slight touch of expensive designer fragrance and we were back agai . Here we come!