VENICE: The Sequal

Fear and self loathing in L.A, Martin Mugginess is the pure embodiment of these two things. Male model or escort, only one way to find out.

Venice

-The Sequel-

 

 
I've seen better days:

Sunday-non, two days ago i... well i prostituted myself for the first time. I know how it sounds but I.m just calling a circle a circle here. It
was nothing close to anything I had imagined, I went to that ladies house expecting the worst but to the contrary i had one of the most compelling experiences I.be ever had the pleasure of experiencing, emphasis on the word PLEASURE.

 I'm in a bar in the Palisades sharing a bottle of southern comfort with my cousin Terry when Doyle calls.

"Time's up kid." he says "what's it goanna be?"

I empty my glass, making a face and look around the bar to settle my nerves and the looming paranoia of someone i know tailing me and finding out what I.ve been up to the past three days. Terry is studying my face when i tell Doyle I'll do it, I.m all in, let the chip.s fall were they may I tell him.

 “Happy to hear it” he says, “I'll call you in an hour with the next meet.”

I'm mortified; i didn't think i had to do anything so soon again, you run
into some easy cash and think to yourself “great, I.m set for a while.”


But you.d be surprised how quickly you can blow three grand in L.A.
I calm myself by taking long breaths and reciting the words RELAX MARTIN, in my head before i hang up.

"Look, this isn't healthy." Terry utters, fingering the bowl of sarsaparilla on the counter "It's toxic, if you need cash I.ll write you a
check."

"I don't do handouts dude, you know that." i manage to tell him, half serious. I gesture to the bar tender to turn up the volume on the stereo; Vicious Traditions- the Veil I.s playing too low in the back for my taste.

"So… What? Being a sleaze is fine but you won't accept any genuine help. You've got a twisted sense of morality you know that?"

"Morality" I burst out in laughter "Are you seriously lecturing me about morality right now. Mr. I slept with my English professor. Give me break."

"You're right" he shifts uncomfortably in his sit "I.m the last person to pass judgment."

"You think?"

"Alright, alright" he's annoyed.

It's quiet for a while. I.m watching the traffic outside buzzing ominously up 1031 Galloway thinking about how different things were back in college, how casual and simple life was. All i did was sleep all day, party all night, get laid and walk around campus at downfall. I'm
thinking about the dreaded call from my agent, I.m thinking about my ex Peyton who i didn.t officially break up with but decided to take a break since she wanted to go bag packing across Europe for a month
with some friends, it was always a loose arrangement between us. I'm thinking i should sober up before Doyle calls. I'm thinking rescinding
hairline, I'm thinking Super-bawl, Obama care, and did I lock my apartment this morning when I left? I.m thinking star bucks down the
street, I'm thinking Mrs. Goldstein.s pool, flouting bra, the smell of forest pine in Sam.s cab, I'm thinking why am thinking so much, I'm thinking I need a cigarette, I'm thinking...

"There's a party at Hervey's tomorrow. You coming" Terry jolts me back to reality, filling up my glass.

"I don't know, maybe -what time?"

"Around eight." he says. I sigh, emptying my glass in his and tell him I might, not promising anything though.


"How's um... Peyton." he pauses, his voice lowering "You guys were getting kind „a serious right?"

"Yeah 'kind of' is the perfect way to put it actually."

"She's still in... what was it,” his snapping his fingers “Amsterdam?"
These words leave Terry's mouth too easily. They sound almost rehearsed, too casual.

"Yeah, wait a sec" i stop realizing something "How did, you know she
was in Amsterdam. I mean i remember telling you she was in Europe but i never specified were exactly."

The lines in his face tighten and contort, there's something his not telling me. He picks up his glass, finding with it nervously then puts it back on the counter just as quick.

"Look I was going to tell you, okay?" his avoiding eye contact.

"Tell me? Tell me what Terence?"

"She calls, just from time to time to check up on me" he takes a sip and
adds “on things."
"Whoa, whoa what” What are you saying? Why would she be calling you? What the f**k is this bro!" my short fused temper gets the better of me, I.m halfway up my chair.

"Relax, okay. She's coming back on Friday; she'll clear everything up when she gets here."

"This Friday." i say, in the tone of a question.

"She didn't tell you?"

"She hasn't called me since she left, duch-bag!”

The barkeep walks over and tells me to keep it down, I'm causing commotion on an otherwise quiet Sunday but I.m fuming and it only aggravates me more so i snap.

"Ey f**k off dude, mind your own okay!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Fine whatever," I turn to Terry "You, you.re unbelievable."

 When i stand up to leave, reaching for my wallet to settle the bill he says don't worry about it, "I've got this." and i just shake my head and
pay anyway. Walking out he shouts "Hey C'mon, Martin!" I ignore him, stumbling and falling on the sidewalk where i hurt my hand and some guy tries to help and i push him off me, standing up and he walks
away mouthing off something like "Jerk." and i stumble into a coffee shop to sober up but my head is pounding like mad. So I throw up on
the coffee shop entrance, the looks on the faces of the shops inhabitants an indescribable mixture of confusion and concern.

Sweet Dreams are made of these:

My phone rings and i roll over, I.m in my apartment but i have no
recollection of how i got here. The caller I.D reads "DOYLE" in big
blue neon letters. I think about ignoring it but really what else could happen to me today to make it any less Butterfly's and rainbows.

"Ellow." I'm masking my voice.

"Who is this, Martin?"

"Mr. Marrr-tin c**t come to da phone right now, but i be happy to be taking message -Very much."

"Martin stop f*****g around, I've been calling you for the past... " he takes a deep breath "you know what never mind. They are waiting for you."

"Who's they?"

"The address is 896 Malibu."

"Malabo?"

"Yeah, yeah oh and ah... she said something about mind the dog."

"Jesus Dogs, what kind of operation are running out here man. Hello, hello..." The f****r hung up on me.

I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, rinse, got a shirt on (black-plain), w***e some jeans i got from the bottom of the laundry, and lastly the pair of boots i was wearing this afternoon. I was off again, another cab, another house. The cabby wasn't a very chatty fellow but i was not unhappy about that, he turned corners with intent and dropped me off at the address. Hmmm… so this is Malibu, not bad I.m thinking. The air.s cleaner here, it leaves a sweet like after taste if you slow down and take a long deep breath. I.m guessing that has something to do with the ocean being close by. There's no way I.m getting in through the front so back entrance it is I.m craving another cigarette but I don.t want to risk tainting my breath, so I reach down my jeans and there.s a tic-tac, probably a day old "down the hatchet to cure that annoying oral fixation I.ve developed. There's no intercom, so what do i do. I start shouting like some crazed lunatic, incoherent phrases like I'm here, hello... Miss are home?

Eventually someone's head pop's out of the shrubbery and bobs back in. I shout out again and after a while i hear footsteps nearing. They, what did he mean they -I.m thinking to myself. Probably nothing i convince myself, you know Doyle it's in all likely hood nothing. The wooden gate opens and fortunately a woman (singular) is reviled on the other side, she.s a bit older than my previous meet but not by much
i deduce. A brunet, she's wearing ripped sky blue shorts, a black lace blouse and a see through bra underneath that gives her a rather promiscuous presence. She's also bare foot with a glass of white wine on her right hand and a dark wrist band above, reminiscent of a Marilyn Manson video i saw i while back on Mtv. The first thing she says to me is "Your late." and it's only after she smiles that i realize how freaking hot she is.

"Yeah, um... sorry, traffic. Its bananas out there." i lie.

"Bananas, huh" She pauses, smiling while taking a good look, drinking me in "You want to come in?"
I don't say anything, i simply nod up then down twice and she grabs my hand guiding me inside. I pass a water fountain designed in the likeness of a Cupid and next to that one is a lion and the water is
coming out of its mouth to a small stream of water disappearing behind a bunch of Jacaranda and Bonsai trees. It's quite beautiful out here. That petite hand of hers still on my arm, her nails slowly digging their way through the flesh, i step inside her house and she glides the glass door shut behind me, securing her pray. There's something inherently intimidating about this woman, besides her age, the look in her eyes is far too relaxed, like she's done this enough times to know what to expect. Grey, mysterious eye.s that sand an ancient tune of a story fitting to grace the pages of an English romance novella.

"Your shaking, that's cute." she says with a curtsy, settling the glass
of sauvignon blanc on a nearby side table as her other hand mercifully releases my arm but not before lingering there a bit, leaving me with the faint notion of what's to come.

"I'm sought of nervous, i mean a little." i come clean.

"That's perfectly natural." her dark tinted lips whisper back, reassure- idly.
I.m staring everywhere else but at her when we.re standing in the middle of her living room that.s littered with pop culture paintings and sharp white edged walls and ceilings when she grabs me by the belt and arches herself forward, so her whole body is balanced by her toes
to connect our lips together in a brief slippery embrace. I play with her lips a little, her tongue slipping itself inside, all whilst the corners of her mouth stuck in a lustful semi-smile. The heavy breathing begins, my hand finding their way familiarly down her pants, feeling around. Wait
there's something off here.

"I'm not wearing any panties." she punts, her mouth opening then closing, landing warm puffs of air against my unsaved jawline.

"Oh my god" I catch myself murmuring, fingering down there skillfully. She's quick to remove my shirt, kissing and biting around the chest and n*****s. My hand comes up for air and the look on her face is purely boner inducing, I remove her shorts while fondling those full, pale supple thighs. And trying to go down on her when she tells me to stop. I come up and ask if I.m doing anything wrong and she says no and reassures me with another kiss where my clavicles meet.

"I have a surprise for you," she says cryptically, toying with my belly button "do you like surprises."

"Depends on the surprise." i tell her, slurring my words.

"I think you'll like my surprise."

Once again belt first she's leading me away from the living room across a spacious hallway, i take inventory of the tinny lights lining the ceiling of the corridor leading down to what I.m assuming is her bedroom. I kick my boots off excitedly and she swings the door wide open and steeps aside, leaving a little lee-way for me to come in. This feels like a trap of some kind, the same feeling i had on my way over here in that closeted cab but this feeling subsides when i walk in slowly to discover a predominantly vacant room.
I turn around confused, she shut.s the door. Why does she keep doing that?

"I don't see anything."

"Are you sure?" she whisks two nicely manicured figures under my chin and turns my head to the far left and BANG, right there on the chair in my blind spot is another woman.

"Whoa!"

She.s blond with a streak of silver highlighter running to her cheek bones. Her top is already off, she has a nice pair of tits, not too big or
small -they just have a nice symmetry to them and oh… sssss pointy n****e.s, my favorite. A thin waistline later are blood red leather paints stretching down to the female version of the boots i left somewhere in the hallway. She's very skinny and tall but gorgeous.

"Don't worry, she'll just be watching."

"Watching?"

"Yeah, you don't mind right? I.ll pay double if it.s an imposition." I take one more look at her, on the crimson patented chair, sprawled half-naked. Honey and dumb, then tilt down then back at her again.

"Um... sure, anything you want." i say, as subtly as I can manage.

Meanwhile I.m yelling YES! are you kidding me? Dreams do come
true, (all on the inside of cause). These are the things i fantasized
about as a teen laying on my bed after school, reading a copy of my dad's pent house forum.

"Great." she says, perfunctorily.

She throws herself on the bed rubbing her legs together until them swirl up and start reddening, she laughs whimsically and her blond friend on the chair joins the laughter.

Weird…

I'm at a loss as to what to do so just start laughing to and they both look at me laughing harder than i walk toward the bed and spin her
around on her back and shove myself down between her legs and slip my tongue in under the landing strip of pretty trimmed follicles. She's
moaning and wet in a matter of seconds. I keep at it a while longer, enjoying myself, listening to her friend punting and crying out in sheer
esthetic pleasure behind us.

I lift my head, and turn halfway around to look at her and what i see is the blond with the leather paint somewhere around her ankles and she
actual has more than two fingers inside of her working slowly at her own wet throbbing c**t. I'm fixated on the blond; the brunet is lightly kissing my neck with her hand down my pants which should be off by
now. My heart is beating so fast, all the blood rushing down stairs.

The brunet goes down on me, her lips wrapping tight around my quivering member, we go on like this for a while until i pick her up by
her waist toward the head board where i mount, tugging at her blouse. The deep breaths she takes sound something like a long S when i slide in something fierce and start working, first intensely but i ease up
on her every time she pulls on my hair. Our faces just fractions away from each other she asks in a treble of
a voice “What.s your name?” and I smile and whisper back

“Anonymous.”

 She turns around on her belly and i catch a long glimpse of her a*s bellow that dark blouse. She's removing her bra while leaving her blouse intact as if she knows I.m turned on by it left on. I'm kissing her chicks when her bra comes off and she tosses it on her carpet. The only thing distracting me at this point is all the giggling these two are doing, like there's some private joke that I.m not privy to. I jettison the though when I mount again, my palms sweaty, she.s squeezed between her mattress and a very hard place. This is by far the most turned on
I've ever been by an older woman, the smell of her hair alone is enough to maintains an erection that could last several conversations.

Or maybe it's the idea of being so fully in-control of another person, her every erotic impulse hanging at my conditioning. And her friend watching us is the icing on the proverbial cake. I have her on her knees
now; I.m close, very close. She.s able to twist her leg back around and i mount one last time, a few more pathetic strokes and i pull out and we both come screaming out something like "Fuuuuhr!"

 
Home Sweet Couch:

I'm woken up by the sound of a barking dog, the woman i just had coitus with is asleep and i take that as good sign. I come out from under the crumple sheets wondering what kind of detergent they use
to get them so white. Upright on the bed, putting my jeans back on and to my bewilderment she doesn't wake up. I clime down from the bed, scanning the room for my t-shirt -the leaving room, I recollect. I head out carelessly and hear an "Awch!" at my feet. I stepped on what's her face on the floor; to my defense without the red leather
pants on her she was as pale and indistinguishable from the carpet.

"Sorry." i quickly apologize.

"A*****e" she mouths off.

I walk out of there, not sure what to make out of what just happened. I put my boots back on in the hallway and then my shirt when i get to the
living room, expecting it to be wet for some reason and just as I.m about to open the glass sliding door the dog barks again so i turn back and use the back exit. I'm surprised to see how dark it's gotten
outside and the clock on my phone indicates that it's just after seven, I feel like i should be somewhere urgent right now. The sound of clashing Malibu oceanic waves in the distant cold violent sea comfort me, as i make my way down the balcony steeps to the moist sand.

There's nothing here on either side of the coastline, it's like not so long ago there was nothing but sand and sea water. That's when i realize I've been walking down the beach aimlessly for well over fifteen minutes; the noise in my head was almost non-existent.
This was another new feeling, in the land of the lotus eaters -time can play tricks on your mind. I find a path leading out back to the road
where i try to call a cab but the battery on my phone is dead so i keep walking and thinking about the room I left behind with the naked
women passed out on the bed and the floor, the way the light came through the blinds when she was rolling around on the bed and the beach and barking dog.

The noise of the world sliding back into focus. I hitch hike back to Venice, a guy in a silver convertible wearing blue
tinted Ralf Lauren glasses picks me up and when we reach the Pier he lower.s his shades and says “Your no a serial killer are you?” and I say

“Should you have asked me that before picking me up” and he just smiles and steep.s on the accelerator hard enough to give us both whip lash and he drops me off close enough to walk back to my apartment and i realize i forgot to lock my door when I left this
morning, and someone walked in and stole my stereo and a couple of CD's. Civil Twilight, Pink Flayed, Mad.s Langer, The Rolling Stones, Alice in Chains -all the good stuff.
This doesn't trigger much of a reaction, i just whisper "S**t" under my breath and walk to my room where i pour myself a tall one and dose off on a couch too tired to make it all the way to the bed, and i fade in to a slow forceful inebriated slumber.

 
Fox Hills:

The alarm on my side lamp pings, i role out of bed and into the kitchen for glass of cold water but there.s no water, just empty canisters and condiments and spaghetti. I always had spaghetti. I never have the time to fill up a canister with water, okay maybe i do i just don't want to but i still want to drink water. "Tap water it is" (now I.m talking to myself, great)." The telephone rings, it's Terrence.

"City morgue, you kill'em, we chill'em." i kid.

"Martin. You are coming tonight" he says this like it.s an order.

"Am I? Ah... tonight, remind me what's happening again."

"The party, at Hervey's jackass"

"Yeah, no, no can.t make it… that guy creeps me the f**k out, i don't know."

"Who… Harvey? His cool now, he was just going through some stuff after his grand-father died. But his really come around and he wants us to celebrate this new kick a*s house he just bought in Fox Hills."

"And how do you know him again?" I'm already walking to my room to change when i say this.

"Cameron did the intro's, we've been boys ever since."

"Cameron huh, how is he?"

"Good, good everybody's here." there's a pause; I'm looking at the clock on the television on CNN. Larry King still wearing that blue
spotted tie with the trickle down patten of disorientating on it “So um... you coming."

"Yeah, I.ll be there." I finally let up.

I hang up; it's 07:30 Larry is saying on his last pair of teeth. I try out a few looks on the mirror but end up just putting a jacket over my usual dress code. I walk around Venice for a while to clear my head, watching some guy playing a guitar for a girl outside a crowded pub, it reminds me of the time i was still in love with Peyton and she called me while i was playing Halo at Sebastian.s house and told me to come meet her at Santa Monica Pier and we kissed for the first time watching the lights on the Ferris wheel in Connie Island."

I eventually catch a cab at Pacific Avenue and it drops me off at Fox
Hills and i follow the music to a house up the Hill. The gates are open and there are a bunch of cars parked and being driven in by the
valet. i light a cigarette and approach the front entrance feeling under dressed. In the center of the house, Bosnian Rainbow's- Eli is playing, the lights are flinkering like it's a rave, people losing them self.s in the ecstasy of both the music and the drug, a few too stuck up to dance but all things considered it really is an impressive looking party. Everybody is stylishly dressed in gothic black, a lot of tattoo's and piercing's going on, apart from the snobs wearing designer and I.m vaguely nostalgic of my modeling days. I find the bar and the barkeep a f*g naturally, pours me a 7&7 and i walk to the other side of the house greeting and waving at a bunch nobodies and i hear someone telling someone else that the guy who played Duncan in The way, way back is here signing shirt's.

I'm momentarily blinded by the cosmic blue emanating from the extra neon lights installed at the bottom of the pool when i get to the other side of the house and it's more lively, there's a flair of excitement, girls in bikini's colored from one end of the spectrum to the other , some of the girls are skinny dipping, and there.s another bar on the far left, the bar tender in a black and white tuxedo vest by Doce'., doing tricks and dazzling his odious while preparing martini's, s**t there's even the flame throwing guy here.

I take my boots off to loosen up, and dip my feet in the pool, whisking handfuls of water on some girl who's playing with a giant beach ball with her friends. I'm getting in the spirit of the party, signaling a passing by waiter for a glass of champagne. There's a tap on my right
shoulder and i turn around, it's Dayle's wife Linda. She's nice enough to lean all the way down, cupping her Valentino Couture dress at the back just to give me a hug and i ask her if Doyle.s here and she says, he's in the Grotto with Harvey. But then she starts yammering on about how i never visit their house anymore and how she's the realtor that closed the deal on this house and it's like listening to my mom talking to her book club aficionados, about brisk recopies and the ending on to “To kill a mocking bird” I'm nodding but only a few words are coming through.

"Forty thousand dollar commission... Catlin.s new brasses... Atticus Fetch... Gynecologist... Doyle.s acting shady as of late... fang-shwey."

I'm thinking someone please shot her in the face, shut her up. Doyle comes up from behind her, putting his arm around her shoulder, his
drunk, loud and his eyes are like doll eyes behind his Wayfarer.s. His wife is watching, this t**d of a human being is actually eying the girl
posing in the new Victoria secret line by the pool, the same lesbian photographer who did my portfolio, behind the camera flashing away.

"Hey i know that girl," he points with his pinky next to his glass full of scotch "The secrets out. Victoria's a w***e, am i right?" then he laughs like some demented god.

I have a few more drinks with Doyle and after his wife waltzes off to get him another scotch, he tells me I should come on over to pick up the check for my last job but he won.t tell me how much it is. From the top of the dome, just out sheer curiosity I ask him how much he's getting for pimping me out. And this bald bustard won.t give me a
straight answer.

“Seriously, how much though”

“Six grand, give or take.”

“Give or take?”

“Yeah you know, give or take a grand”

“Are you f*****g kidding me? Are you serious right now? That's twice as much as I make and I do all the work.”

“Calm down Martin down.”

“Why is everybody riding me today?”

“Cause you.re a w***e” he says, not even sugar coating it. And you know what, his right. I am a w***e, and not even like high end bornified escort. I.m a cheap w***e. I want to punch him in the face, just BAM! right in the middle of his dumb fat face. But what good would that do, for better or worse Doyle if on my side, plus I still have to go pick up that check at his office and I don.t want to give him a reason to screw me over on my money any more than he already is. But it.s fun to think about it, he wouldn't even see it coming. I leave Doyle with F**k you
and wonder around the party holding back a surge of tears from surfacing and that.s when I see Harvey who's standing alone watching the asphalt lights in Crenshaw, his in a suit, bow tie undone -holding a bottle of champagne. He has this potent look in his eye like his looking at a desert or something. I congratulate him on the house to break the ice and we get to talking, about surprisingly normal stuff -cars, woman, a new animation his producing for Disney, the sequel to Treasure Planet he says and i notice how much his changed and how well adjusted he is now compared to high school. Some chick walks over and starts tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, he tries to ignore her, probably hopping she.ll give up and continue on her merry little way but this b***h isn.t going anywhere. A few more tugs and he just snaps and tells her to "F**k off, grown man are talking." I try to move on before I also fall victim to that sinuous side of him I.ve come to know so well by telling him i need a refill but he just hands me the bottle his holding and says “Uh, uh we.re having a good talk.

Behind us some guy throws a water melon in the pool, and he laughs his a*s off when it plashes and scares the girls in bikinis. Harvey say's

"I don't remember buying any water melon for this party." and i say "the maid maybe?" and he says "Nah, she would do that." And i say "Maybe he brought it with him." There's a pause where we exchange looks then laugh like crazy.

Somewhere down the line in the conversation, Harvey returns, the Harvey i knew back in high school. Bizarre Harvey as we called him.

"You ever feel like none of this is real?" he starts.

"Like... how do you mean?"

"What I mean is," he looks around, brazenly clearing his throat “these people, this house, the alcohol induce myopia. It just doesn't add up to anything besides a deep sited melancholy. I.m sure some of it has meaning, intrinsically just by being here and having fun. But when i put my hand out it's just nothing, you know. I feel like i don't really know what's happening in the true nature of things. You see what I.m getting here Martin."

"Sure. I guise" I'm nodding. "No not really. Look let.s just enjoy the party."

"Yeah well, i could explain but let.s face it. 99 percent of the time, i don't know what the f**k I.m talking about."

The party Dries up at around three a.m. and people are leaving but some close friends and their close friends of Harvey, stay behind to finish off the booze and guacamole. I.m sure Doyle.s wife brought with her. I go to check inside the house, the lights dim, leaning on the door
frame all i see are more people leaving and the only ones that aren't are these riff-rafts playing Kill Zone on the flat screen and munching on Doritos with empty red plastic cups all over the floor around them.
Eventually they leave and i make myself another drink over at the indoor bar and that's when Cameron walks out from one of the rooms with these hookerish looking girls (and I would know) putting on their shoes behind him. He walks over and fixes himself a drink, winks and me and walks to the living room where those kids were and he lays down on the coach, takes a sip and balances the glass on his chest closing his eyes.

I watch the girls walk out, slamming the door for effect and i find an empty coach to pass the f**k out on.

All the not so great philosopher's:

When i wake up, it feels like I.ve slept for like fifteen minutes but when i check my phone it's more like two hours and now Cameron is awake talking to someone. I turn my head and see that Harvey and Terrence
have joined us. Cameron is drunk and spouting insane incoherent s**t.
It comes with the territory of being a poetry major, but then i start to listen when he says to Harvey after a long pause "There's this girl i
grew up with, back home in Long Island. First girl i ever kissed. Care or Clare or something... i can't remember, we were kids you know… Nine or Ten i think. She had this laugh it was.... anyway. One spring, we're playing outside my grandparents. house after brunch and it just starts raining. This quiet drizzle, the kind were the sun is still dimly shining through the rain and it's just orange everywhere. We ran into this old shack outside, got torn down a few years back. And we're in there giggling, drying off and this girl tells me that if i ever leave her, she would die of a broken heart. Huh... imagine that, those words, from a nine year old. She probably didn't even know what she was talking about back then, but i wonder from time to time, even just now when i was f*****g that girl in there -i paused at some point and wondered. Since, i left Long Island, what happened to that poor soul. And that laugh is etched so deeply in my memory, it torments."

"You slept with both those girls?" asks Harvey "In my guest room of all places."

"It was three actually." Terrence chimes in.

"What?"

"The girls, it was three." he clarifies.

"Dude you.re not helping." i say to Terrance.

"Well, i stand corrected. Three woman" Harvey tosses his leg over to Cameron, kicking him in sing song every time he speak "In-my-guest-room-basted," Cameron laughs it off and says "I manipulate people, I bring out the worst and best in them. It.s what I do."

"I went online today," say's Terrence "and there's this M.D site where you can ball park the number of drinks you have in a week. My average was 56 assuming i drank about 8 glasses a day. Now for me the meter was on sever, which meant I.d probably be dead by the time i was 35." He pauses to empty his glass then says "GOOD."

 I reposition myself on the couch and do a line of coke someone left behind along their American Express card on the coffee table.

"Hey Terrence you and Harvey... i mean Cameron go to the same
college right?" I inquire, scratching the side of my nose.

"Yeah,” looks at me judgmentally “my um... my first year in there, i never got laid once. I had so many opportunities, a lot of great girls. But all i did was sleep and read books, i didn't notice how lonely i was, you know? Well up until i noticed anyway."

"Now you bang anything that moves, just like Martin over there." says Harvey with that permanent expression still ever so fixed in his face.

"What's wrong with that, huh? I always ask myself what is the most amazing thing two or more people can do to or for each other at any given time their together. This is how I.ve always lived. This is what i try to make happen with every person i ever meet and it's gotten me
into a lot of trouble. Cause for me the answer is usually the same. But I've also had unique human experience as a result."

It went on like this until sunrise, no more girls, no more alcohol, just people talking.

It was nice.

 

There is no spoon:

On Friday Terrence calls me and says Peyton wants us to come pick her up at the airport and i take a cab to his place in Beverly Hills and he drives us to L.A.X with the top of the roof down in a mutually awkward silence. We find a place to park, leaning on the car i light a cigarette with Terry next to me, his glasses still on, he scan's the masses for Peyton and when she spots us she jogs quickly dragging her bags an animated smile on her face. She's wearing Capri pants, boots and a hippie t-shirt with the word WATER written on it. She hugs Terrence first while I.d putting her bags in the trunk of the Jeep, feeling like the Valet. I get the sloppy seconds of a hug and a kiss on
the chick.

“Miss me?” she utters.


“Only in the way one misses Herpes.” Terence jokes, Peyton on the other hand, not so amused. I'm on short gun, Terrance driving and Peyton in the back seat.

"How have my boys been, have you been behaving?" says Peyton when we pull out of the lot into the buzzing traffic, Terrence and I exchange looks.

"Oh yes mother, we've been exceptionally good boys" i say
sarcastically in something resembling a British accent.

I'm Keep expecting her to explain herself at any moment when she leans forward and cranks up the stereo "Cold Play -Yellow" she annexes Terry of his shades, stands up on the back seat, singing and screaming her version of the lyrics. Why would she act like everything is fine? Does she even realize that my lower lip is brooding? Wanting
to be noticed, to be asked what.s wrong, so I can yell out “I.M NOT OKAY SHARING YOU WITH THIS A*S WIPE!”

Maybe it was all in my head. The thing.s I felt for her, projections brought upon by my excessive drinking, insomnia and good old fashion loneliness. To her I was just another guy, a summer fling, in love, alone. At the house i can.t wait to get my hands on Peyton and luckily Terry
goes for a shower and i take her to one of the rooms and we undress each other and i go down on her and we f**k and i pull out, waving my c**k in her face and I go back at it until i come and lay there listening to her talk about Europe. How great the art, the music, the people, the food, the architecture was. I never ask her about Terry and she never brings it up. But what she does bring up is nothing if not astonishing.

“I met someone and it wasn't planned or anything it sort of just happened naturally.” She.s telling me “It was in a villa in Spain. We went. to an art gallery one afternoon and later that night in our room I woke up and she was covered in paint… ”

“She…?” I.m confused.

“Her name.s Gabriella. She painted me while I was slept, I don.t know whether it was how crazy that week was for me or cause of how gorgeous her skin looked under the moonlight or that I wanted to show appreciation for the painting, all I know is that I kissed her and when our lips touched I felt something exquisite, something godlike. I
hadn't been with another woman before, not even in college when all my friends were doing it. But Gabriella, she was very patient and gentle with me and I guise that.s why I feel in love with her.” She tilted
her gaze from the ceiling, toward me and it took a moment for it to sink in. Peyton was a free spirit, she.d figured it out. The thing that made her happy, she followed every impulse to its ending. I couldn't be mad
at her for following her bliss, she was everything I wanted to be, free in
all the way's wasn't. So I look in her eyes and say “I don.t know whether to be mad at you or be turned on by that story.”

On Saturday I come back from the Sunset Plaza with groceries and she's with Terrence in his room upstairs and they are going at it and i just sit in the living room watching cartoons and the next day it's me and her in the pool and the next her and Terrence in the pool. By Tuesday I.m practically living here, so me and my cousin Terrence have a long talk and somehow end up deciding we're both cool with what's happening, it's all in good fun he says. And on Wednesday we all have a good old fashioned devil's three-way starting in the foyer and ending in the balcony upstairs. We watch Mtv, drink a lot of wine, tell stories and Peyton danced for us, bra-less and we do tons of coke and weed till our livers insides are drowning in the stuff. We sleep all day and go out to party all night. We're young and there's no sense to the structure of things. Our motto is "if it feels good, do it."

 Lullaby:

Someone had left the sliding door open to filter out the smell of the marijuana we were smoking last night and a cold draft blasting through the white venetian blinds woke me up. I slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake anyone. I stand a few feet in front of the bed; the
hardwood floors that stretch across the entire bedroom gave a serial numb like feeling to my bare feet. I light a cigarette and watch Peyton, fast asleep next to Terrence.

The sheet comes down to her waist, there.s a thin lining of skin showing between the fading grey tank-top she's wearing and the sheet that gives me a mild erection. It's the little things -I.m thinking.
Then i notice Peyton.s right hand sort of sprawling itself on Terry's chest and it bothers me a lot more than I.m ever willing to admit.

So i take the keys to Terry's Jeep on the vanished cabinet that's next to the side lamp that's almost as tall as i am and i take his Wayfarer sunglasses while I.m at it. I walk downstairs fight off what feels like a surge of rage from surfacing, I take an ice tea from the
refrigerator in the kitchen with me when i walk out to the car, snuffing out the cigarette and putting on my new shades and i drive aimlessly
around L.A picking up these hitch hikers at Hyde Park and they tell me they.re from Inglewood and they got stoned and past out and they convince me to go to a Lake they know nearby but I've been driving for a while now and i don't see a god damn Lake. We drive around some more and get off on a dirt round and walk through some woods
and i get a bad feeling so i turn to one of the two guys and say "You better not try any dumb s**t with me," and i turn to the other one and say "Your boyfriend better not try anything funny."

He laughs and the guy says "Don't worry dude, I.m cool, I'm cool."
We get to the Lake and there are a couple of more kids there and they have this huge bonfire going and someone hands me a beer. I relax, somewhat nostalgic of my college days and its fun for a while. I meet couple of people who i watch fire flies with and eat some
shrooms until i decide i should leave after one more Heineken.

A girl talked to for a while sees me, runs over and asks why I.m leaving so soon and i tell her i have to be somewhere important and she asks
me for my number and i tell her i don't know it by heart so i give her my Facebook details and when i walk away she yells out "SEE YOU AROUND!" but i knew i wouldn't and i think she did to a little.

In the woods, the paranoia returns when I look around the thick vast pine trees that stretch as far as the eye can reach. I swallow. And just then like in the dream that keeps me awake through the night, these
two figures appear "In all black and even hat.s to match. I'm frozen with sheer fear, my sphincter tightening up a few notches.

“Hello Martin” one of them says.

“Look fellas, take anything you want,” I.m taking out my phone
“there.s really no need for violence.”

“Mr. Goldstein would like you to stay away from his wife.”

“What are you doing, Giovanni. Those aren't our order.s.” say's the other one, and it.s a female.s voice. Smooth and clean.

“Look, I.ll do whatever you want I…”

“Good. I.m taking a chance on you here kid, cause you.re clearly in way over your head. But,” he pulls away his jacket revealing his piece at his waist “if you make a fool out of me. Curare and I will pay you a little visit at your charming apartment in Venice "Oh yeah we know
where it is Martin. Now, do we have an understand or…”

I nod in silent terror with my hands up whilst cupping my phone, unable to form any words.

“Goooood. Now -were never here, capish?” he mutters, and again all I can do is nod like a retard on Xanax.

They both turn around slowly and disappear with the mist. But the aura of fear they embody lingers behind. I think I just peed a little.


On the drive back to the Hill's I.m thinking I can't believe i left Peyton with that guy, what the f**k was i thinking watching bugs with those hippies when i should've been with her. So what if she like's Terry or
some Spanish chick who paints naked, i saw her first and I.m the one who.s in love with her and this is just a phase all of us are going through, it's not so bad.

My phone rings a few blocks from the house, i role down the window and toss it out. At the house, I park and run upstairs and they're still in bed, but the T.V in the adjacent room is on, a concert -Augustana
singing Boston playing subtly on Vh1.

I disrobe and slip back under the sheets behind Peyton, wrapping my hands around her torso, squeezing real tight until she punts and roles over smiling at me, her eyes shut and drunk from sleep. As the voice emanating from the T.V sings "I think that i was tired, i think i need a
new town." I kiss Peyton lightly on the forehead and I.m thinking Venice, i think I.m about to cry but then suddenly i don't and I.m thinking it doesn't matter, i love her, I.ll take her just the way she is, broken and confused. I'm thinking......

-The End-

 

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