My phone buzzed in my pocket as I sat in one of New York's coffee shops. Recently, I'd been fired from my position in one of the many McDonalds in the city, and this forced me to reach out to one of my old contacts from a few years ago when I was in college. When I found out that I was a gay man, my parents disowned me and told me not to come home. Not knowing what to do, I started to hook up with people, and I managed to find someone who had a lot of money. His name was Logan, and he paid for many of my bills as long as I performed in ways that he liked. After getting fired, I immediately reached out to him for any possible help.
I checked my phone, and I saw a message from him. "Hey Avery, if you're serious about needing a job of any kind, I have a client who may enjoy your presence in a physical manner. Door is on the third floor of our usual hotel. Same room too."
I immediately started to respond, typing quickly. I didn't want to leave him hanging. I especially didn't want to give him time to reconsider, so I said, "Absolutely! I am serious, what do I need to do/ Where can I meet him?"
"If you go to the Stewart Flower Shop, he'll be waiting outside."
"Got it!" I smiled as I texted him, but I did feel a bit queasy at the prospect of selling myself out again to get by. But, it was something that I had to do to survive. I stood up from my seat in the coffee shop, and I quickly looked myself over.
I was already dressed up a bit from an interview earlier that day, wearing a nice brown dress shirt, a red scarf, and black slacks. My hair was still combed, although I'd undone most of my work earlier this morning by anxiously fidgeting with it.
I put the address for the flower shop into Google maps, and I started walking off toward the shop. Logan followed up his texts by telling me that the man was going to arrive around 3 PM. It was only 1 PM, but I left to try and get there early. Logan also mentioned that he will have a black suitcase with him, and he will also have a black handkerchief.
The walk over to the flower shop was pleasant, but the air today was a bit cold, making my skin turn a bit pinkish in response. The flowers were a mix of all different kinds. Some were red, some were blue, some were orange, and they all were beautiful.
There were a few wooden tables set up near the outside of the shop, and there were men and women walking about, some sitting down at the tables and enjoying a coffee while looking at the arrangement of flowers. I sat down at one of the wooden tables, and I glanced around. I blinked after seeing a fit man with a black suitcase, and I checked the time on my phone.
It was only 1:30 in the afternoon. He shouldn't be here yet, but he looked exactly like the person I was told about in terms of the suitcase. He wore a black coat, a white dress shrit, and black slacks. While the coat hid most of it, I could tell just by looking at him that he hit the gym quite often.
Then, I saw him sneeze and take out a black handkerchief to wipe his nose. I hesitated for a moment, and I shrugged. Perhaps he just arrived early? Whatever, at least Logan would be happy that I finished this job early. Plus, he was very handsome. Handsomer than I thought he would be. I stood up from my table, and I approached him as he went through the rose section of the flower shop.
"Hey," I said, touching him softly on the shoulder. He jumped a little bit from my touch, and he glanced at me.
"What do you want?" He asked. I scratched the back of my head nervously, trying to make him feel more comfortable.
"I noticed that you have a black suitcase."
"Okay. That's amazing. I'm glad you can see." He paused and purchased one of the bouquets of roses. Then he turned back to me.
"I-I was just saying...you also have a black handkerchief."
"I have to go." Damn, this guy was a good actor. He really seemed like he didn't know who I was, and what I looked like. I tried to shrug it off, and I grabbed his arm, trying to tell him what I was trying to do. He looked at me in surprise, and he looked at my hand for a moment. He didn't say anything for what felt like forever.
I leaned in, and I whispered into his ear. "Can't we go somewhere...private?"
He straightened up, and he pushed me away, keeping his hand on my chest. He looked at me in confusion, but he nodded after a moment. "I know the place. Come with me." His hand dropped from my chest to my own hand, interlocking his fingers with mine harshly.
"Actually, there's a hotel across the street." I said hastily. He smirked at me.
"Alright, fine." We started approaching the crosswalk, and the two of us crossed the street together after waiting for the light to change. His fingers dug into mine as we walked, his grip as tight as iron. I didn't mind. Some men just had a level of touch that they enjoyed that was rougher than other men.
I glanced up at him as we walked toward the hotel. He didn't say anything as we walked. I shrugged it off again, and we steadily approached the hotel, moving quickly toward the hotel entrance. He let go of my wrist as we stepped into the lobby.
"Can you sit down on one of those chairs? I need to make a quick call." He pointed at the hotel lobby's lounge chairs. I nodded, and I strode off by myself, sitting down in one of the chairs. It was surprisingly comfortable. I watched as the client made his call, gazing at his arms. He looked like he spent a lot of time at the gym.
