Finding Gerard

Gerard's point of view

The rush hit me like an icy torrent of water.

I giggled, snorting another line off the filthy mirror.

I laughed, manically, uncontrollably, finding myself on the floor with no recollection of how I got there.

Gerard, this stuff doesn't pay for itself, go to work.

I heaved myself up, checking my reflection on the way out of my dingy apartment. I had only been in this town a few days and already I hated it more than the last town.Because I was further away from my Frankie.

I looked at the man in the mirror, his face was white, like porcelain, white and flawless. Eyes wide and staring, pupils the size of quarters. The man's hair hung, lank, unkempt, in desperate need of a cut, black as the night.

I sighed, tearing my eyes away and leaving the apartment.

***

Fifteen minutes walking later, I reached where I needed to be, my corner.

I stood and waited in the cold, my breath rising in mist before my eyes. I pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one, needing the release.

A car drove by, slowing down to look at me. It continued driving.

I looked both ways up and down the street. It was dead quiet, no cars either way.

Glancing to my right I saw the car which had slowed down as it passed me before coming around the block. It stopped, and a nervous looking Latino man rolled down the passenger window.

"Get in," he said, his accent strong.

I climbed into his car, oblivious to any danger I may have been in. I was getting used to doing this now.

"How much?" he asked, running his hand down my chest.

"For the night? Two-fifty," I said firmly. I was used to clients who didn't want to pay.

"Is OK," he said.

"Motel," he said, his English obviously not good. He pulled away, heading for the motel.

"OK," I said, trying to conceal myself letting out a deep breath.

If only precious Frankie could see you now. You're pathetic said the voice in my mind.

I ignored it.

Less than ten minutes later the car stopped outside a cheap looking motel. I had been here with another client only a few nights ago.

"We go in now," he said, accent strong as ever.

"Sure," I said, climbing out of the car. We walked quickly into the motel. There was nobody at the desk. The man had obviously been here earlier, as he had a key to a room. Only three doors down from the one I was in the other night.

He unlocked the door the swung it open, beckoning for me to go in first.

Unusual for a client to be polite, I hesitated but then entered the room.

He closed the door behind himself and locked it.

"I no do this before," he said.

"Well that's OK, there's always a first time," I said, walking to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and kissing his neck up and down.

"I think you, you very pretty," he said, voice quaking with nerves.

"Well thank you sugar," I said breathily, the cocaine in my system helping me get into the persona much more easily. I kissed his lips, and he kissed back, hard, finding his confidence. He pushed me backwards to the bed, straddling me and kissing hungrily.

I removed his coat and shirt as we kissed, running my hands over his chest. He began to fumble with my clothing, so I helped him, within seconds stripping completely naked.

We rolled, so I was on top, I worked my way down his body until I reached the waist band of his jeans. I unbuttoned them and pulled them off, next removing his boxers.

He was small. Pathetically small. I could see why he was nervous.

Nonetheless I began to lick and suck dutifully, I wanted my two hundred and fifty dollars.

He began to breathe heavily... hopefully this wouldn't take long.