The party was held in some underground room underneath a warehouse somewhere in the seedy streets of Collingwood. My first impression of the party when we arrived was the cliché gay image of San Francisco. We are talking butch, leather jackets, porn actor style moustaches and cock-rings. I could go on forever what I saw but I think you get the picture. All I knew, was that this was not my scene. It also appeared that Andrew had done this sort of thing before as he seemed to know everyone there. I found that strange but kept on smiling as I was introduced to his ‘friends’. It did not take long before the sex started. There basically were no rules here. People just started to have sex all over the place and before you knew it I had been groped by some old fat guy. I don’t think I saw any cute guys there, well, I think there were a few potential ones, but not my type. That wasn’t until I got the shock of my life. Out of nowhere came Alex, from the Boy Bar. He saw me, gave me one of those famous winks and started to walk towards me as if he was saying ‘come on baby, let’s go for it’. Andrew was a few metres away getting a head-job from old ugly guy and watching me like a hawk. He was staring at me as if to say ‘You are my possession’. I didn’t care, I wanted Alex. My heart started to beat faster and I was already getting aroused. Alex walked slowly towards me looking at me up and down and sort strutting with a sexy kind of walk. Then he put his hand on my arse and whispered in my ear “Never thought I’d see you again....”. I gave him a sexy kind of smirk and was about to kiss him and saw Andrew with the most jealous look of anger on his face. Andrew was fuming and pushed the man, who was sucking him off, off himself, then came up to Alex and punched him in the face. I was so angry but tried to contain myself. Alex fell to the floor and was about to pick himself up and take a swing back at Andrew but some other guys stepped in to stop a fight. Then Alex yelled at Andrew “This is supposed to be a sex party, who do you think you are, you don’t own this guy” as he was pointing at me. Then Andrew replied “Yes I do.... he is mine, look but don’t touch”. I was stunned. I also felt trapped. It all seemed like a contradiction of me being at this party in the first place as any good looking guy could not touch me. Andrew displayed his possessive nature but most of all his insecurity and jealousy.
For the rest of the night Andrew did exactly what you think, watching me, and watching my every move. In the early stages of the party the sex basically started with a bit of just sucking each other off. Then came along a bit of a whip here and there. Then with horror I noticed some of the guys were having anal sex but bare backing. This was anal sex without a condom. It made me sick to my stomach to watch themselves put themselves in such a risk. Then the party started to turn into one big orgy and some late arrivals came into the party. The late arrivals must have been sent from god as they were hot. But as the party was in full swing and Andrew seemed very pre-occupied I had my chance. But suddenly one of the hot guys just started to insert his penis in my anal area and I jumped and pushed him away. “No way, no fuckin way” I yelled. “Condoms only!” I shouted. “All right, all right, calm down” he said. Andrew was on the other side of the mass of bodies and heard my voice and sort of looked over to see what the fuss was about but then kept going on with whatever he was doing.
The next I awoke next to Andrew and then he immediately awoke as well, gave me a tender kiss on my forehead and said “Good morning babe”. “How you feeling?” I asked. “Yeah, okay, I’m a bit fucked” he said. I laughed but he didn’t. I wondered what was wrong as I could see there was something on his mind. “I have to tell you something” he said. I didn’t reply, I was too nervous for what he was going to say. I’m sure I remember seeing him being fucked without a condom and he was going to confess to me. Then he said “I have to go to work on Saturday so I can’t see you until Sunday”. “Is that it?” I asked. “Yeah, what did you think I was going to say?” he said with a slight temper. “No, nothing, doesn’t matter” I replied in a timid voice.
I kept thinking about the night of the sex party and kept feeling so guilty about it. I felt really dirty and I did not know how to stop thinking like this. I also kept thinking that Andrew had not been as safe as he should have been during the sex romps. But I was hoping that I was wrong so I never discussed this with him. For the entire week after the party I dwelled on the sex that occurred that night. Soon I got put off with the idea of sex. I felt like I did not want to have sex anymore for the rest of my life and that I would break up with Andrew on Sunday. I had to, it was only fair.
On the Saturday, the that Andrew said he had to work, I remembered that I left something at Andrews place and as I had a key to his place I would zip down there, grab it then go home. When I arrived I noticed his car was in the parking lot at his block of units. Something was going on. I rushed to his front door, kicked opened the door and there he was sitting on the couch. He was shooting up something up his arm. I still remember that sight of the hypodermic needle crawling up the vein in his arm. He did not even budge when he saw me. I stood there in shock and said to him “Heroin?”. “No’ he replied. “It’s just anabolic steroids, it’s no big deal, I have to take them!” he gasped. Then everything, all these months of abuse and confusion came clear to me. I told him it was over. He just smiled at me, took the needle out his arm, stood up from the couch and he looked as though he was going to hug me. Instead he punched me in the face. I fell to the floor and then he kicked me in the stomach yelling “You fuckin slut!!!!”. I started to cry for help and then suddenly his neighbours were knocking on his front door. Andrew grabbed my head and covered my mouth so I could not scream. He told me to be silent. Then after the minutes of silence, the neighbours left. I managed to take myself away from Andrew and then suddenly he lowered himself on floor into a foetal position crying like a baby. It was a pathetic sight. “I’m so sorry baby, please don’t leave” he cried. I was not falling it for it this time. But that horrible, disgusting image of him injecting that needle made me sick to my stomach. I took one look of disgust at him and suddenly saw a very unattractive man, in fact, I saw the complete opposite of how I visioned Andrew in the past. It disturbed me and I left immediately and went home, not looking back. It was over.
The day later Andrew came knocking on my door crying and begging for my forgiveness. Without him making him further make a scene in the street I let him inside, we sat down on the couch and just looked at each other. I was cautious. Bet I felt so sorry for him. Yes, I was a fool but I went and sat down next to him, and gave him a tender kiss on the side of his neck as a sign all is forgiven. But I had a plan. I refused to any longer be manipulated by any man. No one would dare cross me for what I had been through in my life so far. I don’t deserve it and my plan was to have sweet revenge in a cruel way. But it had to be done. No one is ever gonna mess with my head again, not even Andrew. So I put on a brave face and told him we can start again. He fell for it and continued on with our relationship as nothing happened. He wanted to take me out to dinner that night as a treat for me. I said okay, pick me up at 8pm. This is where my plan began.
I was not home at 8pm. I went out to a gay sauna with the intention to fuck my brains out. So I went to the sauna, and I assumed by then Andrew would have realised I was not home and he would be upset. That was part one of the plan. I know Andrew like a book and I knew he would follow me. He did. He followed me all the way to the sauna, he obviously thinks I was not aware of him following me. But I knew. As soon as I got to the sauna, I pretty much picked up a guy straight away and we had sex in one of the cubicles. Andrew was actually hiding in the next cubicle, listening. Listening to the screams of sexual pleasure and heavy breathing. I wanted him to be crushed with intense jealousy. It would kill him. So after ‘the deed’ was done, I walked out the cubicle with some guy I was with, and there was Andrew kneeling against the wall with a smug look on his face but tears rolling down his cheks. “You fuckin’ evil bastard, how can you do this to me?” he said softly in anger. The other guy thought “Uh oh, a domestic” and quickly ran off not to get in
volved. “Andrew, it’s over,...” I said . “Why did you do this?...is this how evil you can be to another human being, I love you and you have killed my heart, you bastard!” he said under his breath. “Is this how you get your kicks?...you know, being dishonest?” he cried. “Yep, no one messes with me.....no one fuckin’ messes with Jay Andrews,....if you do.....you gonna get hurt and I don’t give a shit” I said in an angry tone. Then I simply walked away. I never saw Andrew ever again. But I did leave a trail of guilt behind. I was not proud of what I had really done. I put a human beings’ emotions in the firing line, and I now know it was a cruel thing to do. I realised I’m not a nice person. I had no respect for any other person feelings. I all cared about was revenge and getting anything I want and if I had to hurt people that got in the way, then that’s the way it had to be. I was getting nasty but I felt I had power. The power to make or break another person’s soul. I didn’t care anymore so I carried on with my life with the intention to get what I want, when I want and if I don’t get what I want, I will get evil. No one messes with Jay Andrews from now on. Fuck the world, I’m in control now.........but “Oh fuck! I’ve got the crabs...... again!”.....
As weeks went by, I’m not going to lie, but Andrew was on my mind every day. I hated him and wanted to see him suffer yet the other part of my brain is loving him. I was in denial and ignored the feelings. Ironically, I did not have sex for weeks. I was completely turned off it. My friends also appeared to be a little distant from me and I didn’t understand why. They made excuses that they could not go out on Saturday night and began to think they were avoiding me. Perhaps it was because I ignored my friends whilst I was with Andrew? I was not sure. But all I knew was that I was ready to have a good time again and contacted Edward, or Eddie as everyone called him. My friend in the rave scene. The party that was to become the most memorable moment in my life was about to make an impact; so strap yourself in for a true experience for both heaven and hell.
………………………………….
I was determined to go to this rave so I called my friend in the rave scene who was the ‘who’s-who’ in the scene. Everyone knew him and if you were a genuine friend of him; you were cool. So I was considered cool.
Eddie seemed delighted that I called him and asked why I disappeared for a while. I just said I was busy and he didn’t really question it. Eddie was so easy to get along with and we just clicked. Our friendship was just pure fun, nothing complex. He asked me to come around to his place to catch up. So I went to the same warehouse he was living in and we just sat on the couch chatting about just general stuff and drinking fruit juice. Then he get out a huge pile of pills and spilled then out on the coffee table. No prizes for guessing what they were but I knew they were ecstasy pills. “Take, one, take a few, take lots!” he said enthusiastically. “What now?” I questioned. “No not now!...for the party this weekend” he replied. I just gave a look of confusion as I never heard news of a party this weekend. He was surprised I was not aware about it as this rave coming up was huge. It was one of the most infamous and craziest raves in Melbourne’s underground scene. So he had me a very elaborately decorated flyer. Then when I saw the name of the party on the flyer, it all made sense. This party is huge and it was gonna go off. The party was called “Every Picture Tells a Story”.
This rave always lived up to its expectations and this party was even more special as there were a lot of international super DJ’s making guest appearances. Eddie talked about the party like it was party to end all parties. There was going to be six rooms all playing a genre of dance. The main room which is mainly techno and hard house, a house and garage room, which was my favourite, a jungle and break-beat room and so on. I was also wondering why there was a lot of noise of hammering and sawing going on just outside Eddie’s apartment. They were preparing for the party. Eddie gave me a brief tour of the warehouse where the party was going to be and spoke enthusiastically how he was painting murals for the main room and so on. This sounded massive and knew I was in for one special night. Eddie told me that I’d have my name on the guest list and to just waltz on in past the crowd and make sure I visit him before I go in the party. He was expecting some special guests. This was gonna be a night to remember!
It did not take me long before I transformed from gay clubber and dance party goer to raver, or ‘stompers’ as we were called. The contrast in both scenes, were quite distinct. But it was the underground feel of the rave scene that excited me. It kind of felt more like an ultra-cool sub-culture rather than the plastic pretentiousness of the dance party scene. There was nothing criminal or wrong about it, but it just had the essence of feeling like you were part of some unique sub-cultural scene separate to ‘normal’ society. The gay dance party scene was a bit more commercialised and way more pretentious. Attire was completely different. By this stage I had what I called a ‘split personality’ wardrobe as I was living and switching between two distinct scenes or sub-cultures. The dance party attire was mainly jeans, muscles tops and a couple of pairs of glam tight latex shorts for the more glitzy dance parties. The rave attire on the other hand consisted mainly of baggy brightly coloured pants, t-shirts with smiley faces or bizarre patterns or pop art style logos and of course the ravers trademark, the Puma trainers. You see, in the rave scene, although it was a much friendlier environment, it was the clothes you wore that determined your status in the rave scene. For example, if you turned up to a rave wearing high heels, the girls that is, or for the guys a pair of leather boots, then firstly you probably would not get let in or people would give you funny looks and instantly call you uncool. So it was imperative to have the right gear in the rave scene. It determined your acceptance in the sub-culture. But all in all, in the rave scene, it was always about the music, and that is a fact, you ask any old-skool raver. To be a true raver, you had to be able to differentiate between the different types of underground dance music. The problem with ‘normal society’ is that ‘they’, seem to think techno or rave music is about ‘doof, doof’ and that’s it. That attitude really annoyed me. Techno is such a broad range. But if you heard techno on commercial radio, then it is not true techno. That is called pop music. Techno in itself is a type of electronic and energetic dance music, then you have other sub-genres such as acid techno, hard house, jungle or break-beat, trance, hardcore techno and other types. Then you have the old-skool true rave music which is classic rave anthems likened to the days when rave started in a club called ‘The Hacienda’ in Manchester, England. I think rave began as an underground movement in the late eighties or nineties. Today raves are quite commercial and I guess that is because money has something to do with it. In fact, I don’t even think raves are called raves anymore, they are all dance parties. What also annoys me is that people whinge about people taking ecstasy in raves yet there is hardly any violence, if any, at the raves. Yet go out onto King Street in Melbourne on a Saturday night where everyone binge drinks alcohol, and there is violent brawls everywhere. Where are the police? I mean, hello?, don’t you think that is where the police should put their focus instead of giving ravers a hard time? I am not disrespecting our police system, I really think they do a good job however I think they need to re-assess where to put their energies and weigh up what is going to be better for the community. In regards to taking ecstasy, sure there is a risk in taking a ‘pill’ but isn’t life itself a risk anyway? There are more alcohol related deaths than ecstasy. I am not condoning the use of drugs, I am just voicing an opinion based on experience.
So anyway, I’ve had my whinge about the naive attitude of society, it’s time to talk about the party coming up. So in the week leading up to the party I don’t think I had ever been so excited. It felt like my homecoming, like I was making a huge comeback or something. I hit the gym every day to pump myself up and ensured I ate super nutritious foods and vitamins. Now the thing is, in the rave scene, it was not as sexually orientated like the dance party scene, but the fact that I had a nice body and could
show it off that somehow got me almost superstar status in the rave scene. Not many ravers were body conscious. But as the saying goes, if you’ve got it, then flaunt it. That gave me that edge in the rave scene and always got me attention.
The day of the party I had my day cat nap, had only small meals and drank litres and litres of freshly squeezed juices. I was well prepared. Having small meals on the day of the party was supposed to make your drugs work better, apparently. When the night arrived I got ready as you do. Showered, dressed while cranking up the tech-house on the dance radio station Kiss FM, which was the cool kind of dance music radio station during the time. Then by around 11pm, I got started. Sitting in front of the TV, no rush, no need to panic and get there too soon, just chill and have a couple of lines of speed. This then led to a third line. It was the best speed I ever I had in my life but I think the mix of excitement and the rush of adrenaline and chemical energy made me just want to dance my arse off, so I was ready. Ironically, I felt like John Travolta in Saturday night Fever, and then the same scene from the movie called Human Traffic, which depicted the rave scene. Yes I know, it sounds wanky. But I felt good. So good, I was desperate to party. So I caught a cab and made my way to the party.
Tucked away in amongst an industrial area of warehouses in inner city Melbourne was the party. As soon as I arrived it felt like home, like a place I feel I can hang my hat. Crowds of people were making their way to the massive queues in the main entrance but I had the special pass. The back entrance which is the actual entrance to Edward’s apartment. This was also the entrance where big name international DJ’s would make their entry as well. Of course there was security everywhere and police were stationed at the main entrance and randomly body searching ravers for any drugs. The police were not smart enough to know how ravers get their drugs into the party and I am not about to let you in that secret either. So I get to the back entrance, the beefed up security guys asked if I’m on the guest list and my response was a “yeah, of course, you think I rocked up here for nuthin”. Yes I know, I had a bit of an attitude. “But the names ANDREWS....JAY BEAU ANDREWS” I said slowly oozing with confidence. They security guys bowed their head as their sign of approval and let me through. My first instant feel of the place as soon as I stepped in was just the intense bass coming from the main room and the slight echoing sound of the ravers screaming ‘whoo, hoo”. This was only the beginning. Things were gonna get out of control.
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