Rent Boy

by James Anthony Ford

  I opened my eyes slowly. I could see light. I heard the hustle and bustle of the hospital emergency room. I looked at the heart machine and my pulse was back to normal. I was not convinced that I had lived through this. So I pinched myself so hard that I felt the pain. I was alive. The feeling of relief was so overwhelming. I looked at the clock on the wall and it said 10 am. It was Monday morning and I was okay. I smiled. I felt happy. Then the nurse came from behind the curtains that surrounded my bed. “Well young man, you are so very, very lucky” she said in a friendly voice. I had to ask the scary question. “Did I.....ummm.....well, you know, die?” I murmured nervously. She paused and suddenly put on a serious look on her face and looked at me. “Almost” she said softly. “Almost.....we thought we were going to lose you ...but you can go home now” she said and then left. I felt like I wanted to cry but couldn’t.

  I thanked the nurses on my way out of the hospital. I walked out into the glorious morning sunshine. It was the most blissful and peaceful feeling. I felt human again. I walked all the way home. I wanted to. I had to appreciate the feeling of being alive. I watched people on their way to work, children playing in the park then suddenly I thought of my mum. I thought to myself, what if? What if, it happened? It would kill her. I could not let my mum go through the pain of losing her son. Then I started to think of the life I am living. Is this really a life? Do I have any direction? Do I have any goals? Do I have any real reason to get up in the morning? There were so many questions I had to ask myself that I completely confused myself. But I arrive home. My housemates were oblivious to what happened. I went straight to room to think about my life. I sat there for hours thinking about the changes I need to make. I needed to re-assess my life. I had to. This was too much of a close call. Then I made the decision. The decision to not go out anymore, well not for a while anyway. No more drugs, no more late nights, no more anonymous sex. I want to be normal, whatever that is. I am going to re-discover my identity. This was four parties and almost a funeral. I needed to find my identity again. I felt so very stupid and naiive.

  For the next few weeks this ‘event’, (and as far as I am concerned I consider this near death experience and ‘event’), the reality gradually began to sink in. I avoided the club scene and tried to work as much as I could. Not so much for money, but to get away from something, whatever ‘something’ was. It is hard to articulate as I recall when at this time my decline from partying almost every night also resulted in my friend’s slowly slipping away. We were all drifting apart. Without getting into the whinging thing, I began to realise that my circle of friends were just ‘clubbing friends’, not authentic friends. We were only together when we partied and I do not think we ever actually called each other on the phone, outside of ‘party time’, just to “Hi, how you going?” At all. That kind of hurt and the more we drifted apart, the more craving for attention I was after.

  I only really kept in contact with Kim on an ad-hoc basis but that was about it. Then the contact; the odd short phone call or two, and the sporadic short latte down a cool cute café along Brunswick Street, Fitzroy, came to a halt. My life was becoming strange and I was confused. No more parties, no more looking forward to the weekend. In retrospect, it was not the excitement of the clubs and parties we desired intensely, but the party drugs; namely ecstasy as our pleasurable poison. It is a cliché, but one which is so too true, and that is, what must come up, must come down. Suddenly it came to a point that I did come down like a ton of bricks.

  ……………………………………….

  Months roll on and I was still working at that café behind the bar and I was good at it but I wanted more. Without going into too many boring details, as I was want to progress this into a next chapter where there is a twist, I lingered over my future. My career in hospitality was not one I wanted to progress further as I was getting over it and I needed more. The problem was that I had many interests. On my days off, or I should say hours off, I spend a lot of time researching any potential career options and I just thought if I did a course it was be an instant career. A silly idea like ‘just add water’ and “Bang!” you have your successful career. You may think I was crazy, but I enrolled, then quit, then enrolled in a different course, quit again, enrolled in another different course and the same process over and over with a lot of wasted money along the way. I went from wanting to be travel consultant, so I did a course, and that was the only one I finished. Yet after its completion I was over that idea. Suddenly I wanted to be massage therapist so I did a course that cost thousands. That did not last long! Then a sound recording engineer, that one last about 1 week! The list goes on and on and don’t even ask how many courses I jumped to and from as it is shameful. I had no real idea of what I really wanted to do and simply was not paying attention to my inner passion. My panic attacks came and went when I felt overwhelmed with indecisiveness as it was a fear of being lost in society, and I did. I knew I had attributes and I need to use my youth and energy now to get the ball rolling and my life was about to change. Strap yourself in for what I am about to reveal.

  Chapter ten...............Rent Boy.

  After that full-on party, or I should say, the day I nearly died, I hadn’t really heard from any of my friends for a while. In fact, not even Edward or Kim. No one really returned my calls. I didn’t understand why. One weekend I felt like going out, just one Saturday night, drug free, just for a drink and a bit of dancing then go home. So I call Kim. She said to meet her and the other guys at The Peel hotel. But she did not really sound that excited about it. But I felt I still needed friends so I have to go. It was more of a confirmation that I still had friends rather than to go out and have a good time. I was over that stuff now.

  So I get to The Peel searching through the crowd for my friends. I couldn’t find them anywhere. I searched every dark corner of the club where they usually huddle and still there was no sign of them. I began to worry I had been stood up then I get a tap on my shoulder. It was Kim. She was in a good mood. A very good mood in fact. She was on ecstasy. Ironically, I had a feeling about this may happen. So she gave me one. I didn’t want to indulge but I did. An hour later we were flying. Dancing together in a group on the dance floor just like the good old days. Once again, it was the drugs that united us. I knew it was natural but accepted it. But what the fuck, I was having a good time anyway.

  We were having a rest on a couch as a group just chilling and having a drink or to. Kim disappeared for a minute then came back with some cute guy I never seen before. Kim knew him and apparently this guy wanted to meet me. His name was Damon. I was not that enthusiastic for a couple of reasons. Firstly I was e-ing off my head and secondly I was not really interested in meeting guys anymore. I was kind of over them. But Damon and I chatted for a while and he tried to kiss me but I backed off. I got a scare. He asked me what’s wrong. I just said that I am on drugs at the moment so it’s not a good idea right now. He accepted my explanation. The truth is that I was scared. I was scared of being committed to another man. I don’t think I could handle the insecurity of being in a relationship again yet alone abuse. I began to hate men and hid my anger.

  As it happened, Damon and I were a couple having a casual relationship for a few months. I was still living with my housemates and he was living elsewhere and we saw each other every second day or so. It was a strange relationship. There were problems in our relationship. He was actually a workaholic and worked really long hours and when he came over to my house after work he was always exhausted and tired. But another problem was brewing. I was afraid to be intimate. I found it difficult to show affection but when we had sex it was full on. I knew something was affecting me and the fact that I found it difficult to show affection to Damon he started to get frustrated. So in the end, we broke up. I actually caught him kissing another guy at a nightclub. Damon did not know I was there. Again, I was crushed. Again my emotions were twisted. Again I was cheated on. Another opportunity lost.

  As time went
by I stayed clear from the nightclubs for a while and just went to gay saunas. I was not interested in relationships. I just wanted dirty hard sex and then tell the guy to ‘fuck off’. But I met a guy at the sauna that kind of caught my heart. His name was Jake and was a blonde muscular guy and seemed so genuine. We broke the rules and saw each other outside the sauna for a while. But it happened again. I was cheated on. But this was different. What happened was his stupid cat got hit by a car and at that time Jake had actually lost his job. Well, so he said. The vet bills came up to around $5000. What was I to do? I offered him the money paying the stupid vet bill with my credit card. Two days later he said he wanted to break up with no explanation. By this stage I was more than crushed, I was numb with pain and anger. How could I be so stupid? Another opportunity lost. And I was cheated and emotionally abused again.

  Months later I then met Daniel. Now he was different. Well, for a time, that is. After the break up with ‘Jake the snake’, I just plodded on with life and went out occasionally with Kim and the other guys. But I was not really in party mode like I used to be. One night I decided to go to a different sauna that I had never been to and met Daniel. He was physically hot bodied, average looking, but had the personality I adore in a man. I was so apprehensive about our relationship but somehow we managed to have a relationship like a married couple outside the sauna. I swore to myself I would never do that again, but I did. Daniel made me feel good. I couldn’t ignore the admiration he had for me and made me feel special. We were quite a close couple for a few months and my fear of intimacy slowly dissolved. It was because Daniel somehow made me feel like a man. Then we did something that we never should have done. He said he was going away for the weekend with some of his friends and asked if I would like to go. I said ‘Okay’. What he didn’t tell me was that his ex-boyfriend was going to be there. When the weekend arrived and we arrived at our destination I was introduced to Daniels friends. Unfortunately, that is. It was rudest shock of my life. I don’t mean to disrespect them but they were the biggest load of screaming queens you could ever possibly imagine. I found it so disgusting I never spoke at the dinner table. I could not understand why guys act like this. I felt like I was on set of ‘Priscilla Queen of the Desert’. I felt like I wanted to vomit. There was no sign of any testosterone or masculinity anywhere, yet they were supposed to be men. So it was that and the fact that Daniel and his ex were flirting with each other. In front of me, like they were trying to make it obvious. I mean, what the hell was going on here? It was clear that Daniel and his ex were still burning a flame for each other and I was in the way. I was getting insanely jealous but remained silent and persevered.

  After dinner we went to the lounge and everyone wanted to play board games. When one of ‘them’ said ‘Okay girls, let’s play twister!” I thought that was a euphemism for playing dress-ups or brushing each other’s hair! I was not looking forward to this. But I played, with a straight face. Then everyone got bored with it. I think they could not handle the physicality of Twister, that would cause you to sweat and run your mascara! So after a couple of the girls, I mean guys, made a quick trip to the powder room, Yes I am serious! they wanted to play some stupid camp gay related board game. I can’t recall the name but it was like Monopoly for gay people, it was so stupid. I’m sorry but I could take this seriously! I had no idea of the rules of this camp and poofy game but I just went along with it, and just continued to be the trophy boyfriend. Then I noticed Daniels ex went out on the balcony for a cigarette. Daniel immediately followed and I just looked on trying not to get angry. They closed the sliding door behind them chatting away, standing very close to each other. I just stared. I wanted to just go out there and say “Well, just admit it you two, just go for it”. I was so in the way and it was clear what was going on. Why should I have to put up with all this crap with guys? I was so sick of it. Soon Daniel and his ex came back inside. Daniel did not sit next to be again like he was before, he sat next to his ex, and did not even look at me. I was fuming like I was about to explode. Then all of a sudden one of his faggy friends said “Oh I’m bored with this, who wants to play another game?”. I could not take any more of this bullshit. So I stood up and spoke to the group for the very first time “Yes!, I have a game!....Who wants to play suck my big fat fuckin’ cock!!!!!!”. They all froze with shock and the stunned look on their faces had to be seen to be believed. The silence was deafening and they all just froze and stared at me in utter shock. I thought ‘Well, at least that shut them up!”. I stormed off to my room and immediately started packing my bags. I was going home. It’s over and I’m over it. Over everything. No more guys, this is it. I have had enough of this shit.

  For the next few months I was in a depressed and moody state. My friends were drifting away from me and I now realize I don’t blame them. The pattern that I was living was when I met a guy and got involved in a relationship I had a reputation for neglecting my friends, then once I broke up with my partner I would come crawling back to my friends. They didn’t appreciate that and they felt like I was using them. The truth is, is that my friends I had were so absorbed in clubs and drugs and it was the only thing that bound us together. They were superficial friendships. There was no trust and no life outside the nightclub or dance party. It was pretty sad really. But it was Kim that I had a more close relationship with as I saw her as more a true friend. She was caring and I trusted her. She took a genuine interest in my wellbeing. But it was coming towards a time where Kim was slowly drifting away from me. We started to less of each other and I didn’t understand why. I really loved her and missed her. I don’t know if I had upset her however I understood that she and her boyfriend were getting pretty serious and I remember she was talking about marriage with him. Maybe her priorities were focussed on her man now. But I think she was getting over the party scene too. The others didn’t really give a shit unless they were relying on me to get their drugs for them for a party. The only time we spoke was about the next night of clubbing and the next party. Very rarely did they, or I even, ask genuinely, ‘How are you?’ The conversation in the clubs was always about “What drugs are you on?”, or “Where you going for recovery later?” then of course we tended to outdo each other by saying “Yeah, well I’ve had 2 e’s tonight”, when I perhaps had one e. Club conversation was complete meaningless but self-absorbed small talk. I was over it. I think Kim was too and the parties are what kept that connection to Kim and I but it was dissolving. I miss her dearly and hope she is happy. I also miss my other friend Emily who I hadn’t seen in months. Again, I have somehow scared her away from me and I don’t know why.

  I became so well absorbed in my own image and my own self-indulgence. If I didn’t get my way, I would let people know. My moodiness tended to intimidate my friends and they were losing their patience with me. It became clear to me by then that I did not have a problem with making friends; it was keeping them that were the problem. I was completely unaware of my behaviour but there was obviously something that scared away my friends and I became confused. I didn’t understand it at the time as I really didn’t care anymore. I was not going to let so-called friends hurt my persona and I was determined to get the best out of life as possible. I also think I was living in some kind of denial that I was in psychological trouble. I refused to think about the abuse childhood I had, the years of broken and hurtful relationships with men as being a negative. Stuff like that doesn’t happen to people like me. What a pretentious thought! I was hiding my pain by indulging myself with sex, drugs and chemical happiness; my ‘sausage roll’ anthems confirmed my feeling of happiness. I knew if I keep singing that song, I would be happy. I deserved better and demanded respect and I wanted to be number one. I wanted to be Jay Beau Andrews, superman. I had developed a thick skin from the turbulent childhood and the amount of time guys had fucked me up and hurt me, either physically or emotionally. I began to hate the world for what I have experienced as nobody seemed to give a shit about me and I wanted to fuck up as
many men as possible to get my revenge, sweet subtle revenge. I would do this on my own as I don’t need anyone. I would do anything it takes to get what I wanted. It was time I get the recognition and rewards that I should have received ages ago. From now on, nobody will walk over James Ford. The cruel society we live in will no longer take advantage of me. This was now my time. I did not want to go out with my friends anymore, I didn’t need them but my sex drive felt hungrier. I did find it helpful that I took out my anger and frustration in my karate practice I was doing although it got me into trouble sometimes with the sensei for being too rough and breaking rules. But I needed to vent my hate and anger somehow on something physical, like another man, rather than a leather punching bag. But I continued to going to the odd sauna or so just to have meaningless sex and psychologically fuck up the minds of men. I would lead them on and then tell them afterwards to ‘Fuck off’ after sex. I was getting over everything in relation to men and intimacy. My sex drive was now more powerful than ever and I worked harder on my body and image to make myself as appealing as possible to men. But I hated men and everything they stood for. All I now wanted was their cock, nothing else. Fuck them and leave them was my attitude. I felt so abused and used by men by this stage that I now wanted to abuse them myself. I did this by teasing them. I would pump myself up before I go to the sauna, lure a guy into a cubicle, then say with a smug look on my face and say “Sorry, not interested’, then walk off. I wanted to hurt men emotionally. This was my revenge. It was so wrong though, but I did not realize it until now. But I would still get my sex, I just made the guys chase after me. I loved it, it felt powerful like I was in control. I would only have sex though with hot guys. A lot of them got attached to me and said they wanted to see me again and would give me their phone number. I said I would call but never did. I was hoping this would hurt them. This was my way of having power of men, finally. But that was not enough. The compliments and admiration and attention I was getting from men grew and grew and it started to get to my head. I wanted to use this somehow to my advantage. Finally I started to feel confident and started to love looking at myself in the mirror. It was only because guys would always say that I was so hot, but deep inside I felt I was not. My thought was ‘Well, if guys say I’m hot, then I must be’. That was my confirmation. So I became a sickening narcissus.