The One I Love

It was dark out. It was always dark for things like this. People just didn't do these sort of things during the day. It wasn't....appropriate. He sighed and stood in the tightfitting outfit, much like the rest of the ones he used to get their attention--tight mid-driff shirt stretching across his chest, even tighter black jeans (sometimes he wore leather, but it was harder to get out of). It was all about attraction. For them, at least. He was never attracted to them. Not any more. At first, it was hard not to find himself attracted to some of them. They weren't always sick bastards. Most of the time, yes, but sometimes just younger ones looking for fun. This one, though, tonight. It was just another random sick, perverted bastard looking for a fuck. He was so low and pathetic he had to turn to a whore. And Ville was just the right man for the job. He was surely not enthused about this.

Ville had snuck out of the house when Bam fell asleep watching a movie on tv. Ville really needed the money. Really needed the money. He sighed, looking both ways down the dark alley, waiting for his ... client to return. The guy came running down the alley a few moments later.

"Hey, babe, sorry about that." His voice was gritty and harsh on Ville's ears.

Forcing back a cringe, Ville smiled instead. "It's okay. I have a hotel room about a block from here."

The man wrapped his arm around Ville's shoulders, grinning. "Well then, let's get going."


Ville lay with his hands above his head and his wrists tied together with rope. He looked pleadingly up at the man above him. This guy was another one of the weirdos that liked to tie Ville up and then tell him to look as scared as possible. The singer arched his back in pain and cried softly as the man roughly pushed against him and scratched his nails across Ville's sides. He shut his eyes and tried to think of the only person left in the world who made him anything near happy at all.

'Bam ...' he thought. 'Bam, I wish you could save me ... I'm so tired of hating myself. I'm so tired of being loveless. I don't want to feel empty anymore ...' Ville sobbed as the man roughly finished up.

"Good job." He grinned and laughed at the bleeding and sobbing Ville and got up to take a shower.

'It's always the same ...' Ville stared at the phone by the bed. All he wanted right now was to see a stupid dumbass skateboarding kid from America. But no. He was still living his life in secret. Everything was all a lie. And as he drifted into an exhausted sleep, he had the same dream that had been following him for all these years.

Clear blue eyes stared at him. They were cold, but filled with tears. His voice screamed over and over. Those same words.

...you filthy slut...

...whore...dirty whore...

...i hate you...

...I hate you!

Ville woke up screaming like he always did. He looked up and saw the man had left a wad of money on the table. Sighing, he sat up and headed for the shower himself. Halfway there, he finally realized whose voice he was hearing ...

Bam's voice.