1
The fine dense drizzle that had been falling on the town this evening wasn't doing anything to lift Erol's mood. Most of his sweet deals had turned sour and people were beginning to ask for some return on their investment that weren't returning anything. It's not that he'd been unlucky, for an orphan with zero prospects in life he'd been particularly lucky except where it mattered to him, money. Skipping from shop front overhang to bank entrances that sheltered him parsimoniously from the rain and in order to stay in the projected light he pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen was illuminated with calls and text notifications that he decided to ignore. Opening the contact list he selected the one saying 'Boss' and texted.
'hey, I need that grand you owe me for the hours I worked last month. Rent's due an all that.'
He was currently squatting above the deli on main street, an abandoned flat with mould smelling mattress and peeling wallpaper, there was no power but the hacked line going downstairs allowing him to recharge and make use of the ancient washing machine and iron to appear presentable. The phone lit up with a reply:
'Got your check just here. 1000 minus the door you trashed, the repair costs and some for income loss for the business and you are left with a grand total of 50'
"the bitch!" Erol shouted to the indifferent rain. Anger management, he’d always had an issue with. His screen lit up with a notification with no names, just a phone number that he knew too well and was beginning to fear. The text read:
‘Either you have it, or I have you.’
His stomach grumbled, the panini he'd had for lunch was long gone and he was cold and tired. The time was nine pm. With trembling fingers he selected a contact's name spelling Amilcar and typed.
'Miss you.'
the reply was immediate:
'where are you?'
'Mainstreet, by the bus stop line 6.'
'Be there in five.'
Erol gave out a ragged breath. He needed food and warmth and the kind of tenderness and easy care his oldest friend was the only one to be able and willing to provide.
The beaten down formerly silver grey Opel van pulled by the curb seven minutes later splashing rain water on the sidewalk with its new tires and wiping frantically the windshield with automated wiper, Erol skipped in front of it and hopped inside slamming the door behind himself and pulled on the safety belt to fasten it. The driver was dressed in an oversized hoodie and grey sweatpants, his sneakers were untied, he smiled at Erol and looked back at the empty road pulling into the absent traffic.
"it's been a long time, I was getting worried."
"You are always in my mind buddy, you know that."
"I do, can't help that I still worry about you."
"It's good to see you Am. I missed you."
"You could come more often, you know you are always welcome."
"No boyfriend?"
"No, time. and I have you when you are around."
Erol reached out and placed his hand on Amilcar's thigh.
"You are not wearing any undies?"
"Didn't take the time."
"You were in bed?"
"No."
"Yes you were."
"You look thinner, wanna eat?"
"Sure thing. You eating with?"
Amilcar nodded and said,
"I can cook pasta, basil and sundried tomato sauce."
"home made?"
"Yep."
"It's my favorite."
"Know that."
The van pulled into an underground car park under a recent high rise and parked smoothly next to a formal sedan. The water running down from the smooth body began dripping and pooling under the frame as the two men slammed the doors and headed to the elevator sliding doors. When they opened on to the lobby of the seventh floor the two were snogging: Erol's hands lifting Amilcar's hoodie to reach his smooth furry blond skin and Amilcar's hands reaching down Erol's pants to grab his butt cheeks. When they disengaged Amilcar's hard-on was difficult to ignore and Erol shifted his painful one to the side whispering,
"I could suck you right here."
"Let's not, I want you just to myself."
He unlocked a door and dragged Erol inside by the belt of his pants. As soon as the door slammed back shut his mouth found Amilcar's again and with closed eyes they kissed standing mouth to mouth rubbing their bodies against each other, their hands reaching whatever skin it could get to.
Erol stomach gave a loud squeak and a grumble and Amilcar pulled back asking,
"You are staying the night, right?"
"Please?"
"Let me cook some pasta, you need it."
"love you buddy."
"You don't know the meaning of the word."
"Bitch, don't be mean."
"You could be with me, you know."
"Yeah but you are out an all. There are too many people I know who could use it against me and…"
"Drop it. I don't want to talk about that. Let me cook and then we fuck. One night with you is a win in my book"
"Like I never stay."
"Fact. You don't."
"Damn you are rough with me tonight Am."
Erol followed into the kitchen and watched as his friend assemble the ingredients and opene a large jar of homemade tomato sauce to pour it inside a pan while filling a large pot with tap water.
“I’m always here for you Erol. I was there when you fucked up and went to juvy. Visited and sent money to your account to keep you afloat. Brought clothes and shoes and undies. Am I the only one who remained in contact during your two years inside?”
Erol nodded, he hated to be reminded that he’d been sent to jail for a botched up break-in he’d got dragged into when he was in a shelter. Another fact of Erol is that he is weak, clever, charming and easily manipulated and he always seems to meet the wrong people.
“You made a promise when you got out.”
“Yeah Amil, I remember.”
“You promised me never to get sent back to jail.”
“Yeah, I was there, I remember.”
“And you vanished off the face of the earth for six months.”
Erol looked truly sorry suddenly.
“Sorry about that.” He said looking at the floor and he mumbled like a five year old caught red handed, “I was out, I just wanted to have fun.”
“Go get a shower, you smell like the last one was three days ago and your hair is greasy.” Erol smoothed the turkish mop of black hair he had inherited from his absentee parents and that he was particularly proud of and shuffled out of the kitchen. The flat was a one bedroom small unit with a double space lounge where Amilcar had set up his sofa and tv and his remote desking office. The bedroom was small with most of it filled up with a large dressing unit going from one wall to the other, the bed was a decent 160 with a new maîtresse. Most things had been purchased second hand or were clearance deals. Amilcar had been like Erol, orphaned with zero prospects, but spared the anger management issues and with a talent for mathematics and languages he’d been kept in the schools, colleges and finally a business school by the social workers who took care of him and lamented the failure Erol was. Amilcar was head strong and knew what he wanted and what he wanted not. Early on he’d learned to say no and explain why. The school had landed him a decent position in a business analytics firm that he had left a couple of years later to go freelance. Mostly he worked from home and only went out to meet clients to sign deals or receive payments. None of it was Erol’s universe, he was happy for his friend but he understood nothing of his life especially why he was staying in their mid size town stuck mid distance between the two largest cities of the country. He would have given his left kidney to get the hell out of here, but he was tied to the place and might very well have to sell a kidney to pay the guy whose number was flashing on his phone’s screen. Dropping his clothes on the floor he started the shower cranking it to hot and stepped inside the booth. For a long time he allowed the steaming water to run down his body and unknot his muscles.
if only, he was thinking, it could wash away all the shit I got myself into.
Finally Amilcar was there in the bathroom calling his name gently.
“Dinner’s ready.”
When Erol stepped out of the shower his clothes were tumbling around in the washer and a clean set of his host’s sweat pants and hoodie were folded on the toilet seat. Everything was clean here, he liked that. It would be a dream to live here with Amilcar, he used to work at the pizza joint down the road, they would spend weekends together, maybe get a cat or a dog and go on… stop it! He raged suddenly under his breath. Knowing why he would never allow this to happen. He would put Amilcar in danger. There was no erasing what he’d done, the people he owed, the money, the stuff. They would come here, they would hurt Amilcar, hurt his business. He needed him to be safe, to be successful, he needed Amilcar as a shining star to what he’d never have, never be. It was life, it wasn’t like he wasn’t worthy, he was just bad at it. That's all, he had his health, a fit body, all his teeth, white and regular, his tanned skin and lush hair and the rest was pure horse shit. Amilcar was dark blond with black eyes, furry like a teddy bear. A social worker had once told him he might have Norman blood but Amilcar thought it more likely Austrian. They were in the north after all. After eating they cuddled on the sofa for a while and ended up in the bedroom. Erol was so closeted that he’d never had sex with anyone but Amilcar and like tonight it was limited to kissing, sucking and jerking each other off. What underlined these moments was the absolute tenderness and profound care they had for each other.
In the morning Amilcar knew Erol was gone even before opening his eyes, there was the text of course. There always were texts explaining.
'Had to dash, things to do. Love U.’
Followed by,
'Promise to come back soon.’ with a rainbow heart emoji.
Amilcar put Erol’s clothes in the drier, ironed them and folded them and he put them away on a particular shelf in his dressing. Fixed himself some dark roast espresso and fired up his computer to read through his mails.
Meanwhile Erol kept running ahead of trouble with all the energy of his 24 years of age and very little to lose except himself. His telephone gave a squeak and he looked at his screen apprehensively,
Amilcar: ‘Come by to pick your clothes, they are dry now.’
Nothing else, Erol knew his friend, he’d declared his feelings for him long ago, just after coming publicly out, to Erol’s absolute terror. People had picked on him, he’d learned to fight back. He got reprimanded for hurting them, he learned to be smart about it. People had left him alone. Erol was too soft for all that, he liked being liked and belonging and was afraid of fights, pain, judgments and hardships. When he wasn’t angry he was a sweet kid, almost got adopted twice…Almost.
That number called again, playing dead wasn’t going to get him anything else than death itself. He had to find a wad of cash and start paying up some very angry people. He thought about places with significant cash flow, there was the weird palace on the outskirts. People said there was tons of cash there. The gardener, Oli’s brother, worked there and the old man paid him each time in wads of large notes. When he shopped around in town it was cash too and the guys at the fancy restaurant near the old convent that had been turned into a luxury resort said he tipped large bills to all the staff each time he came by.
He’d broken in once before, it didn’t work out for sure but this time one could consider he was experienced. The guy drove his Range Rover to the city every weekend leaving the house empty. Oli had said his brother had tried to place a word in for Reg’s home security company claiming one could get inside by kicking the ground floor windows open or climbing the creepers to the first floor balcony. Erol was good at climbing. He now had what he believed was a solution, the old man would barely notice a couple grands missing and he would be able to repay the most dangerous of his patrons. No harm done and he’d be back on his feet.
