4. Yannis
The sun hitting me straight in the face is a rude awakening. I grumble, pulling the pillow over my head. Forgot to close the blinds last night. I feel hungover, which is weird as fuck considering I only had one drink. Those house cocktails pack a punch.
When it becomes clear I’m not falling back to sleep, I force myself out of bed and into the bathroom for a hot shower. The water feels amazing and washes away the grogginess that was still clinging to me. Afterward, I throw on a pair of sweatpants and shuffle to the kitchen for an energy drink as last night’s experiences come rushing back.
Hale.
There’s something unusual about him. About everyone in that club really, but Hale stood out. I barely remember what we talked about except that it was real obvious he was interested in me and that idea didn’t freak me out.
Oh, and those other guys were asking me about working there. Could I? It’s not what I pictured, but it would be a good way to meet people and immerse myself in what this city has to offer. Maybe I should. At least until I figure out what to do long term. The longer I go without a job, the quicker I’ll blow through my savings.
My phone buzzes on the counter, startling me out of my thoughts. I lunge for it, already knowing from the ringtone who it is.
“Dimi. Are you okay?”
My little brother laughs. “Dude. Chill. I’m good. Why the panic?”
“Because it’s morning. You’re never up before the crack of noon.”
He snorts. “That’s fair, but I’ve turned over a new leaf. I started working with a personal trainer.”
“I’ve been gone for two weeks. When did this new leaf turn over?”
“Four days ago. I met him on an app, we met up, and by morning he was talking me into the benefits of waking up early.”
I shake my head, taking another sip of my drink. This is normal behavior for Dimi, latching on to whatever qualities his latest interest has, only for it to fizzle out a few weeks in.
“As long as you’re happy.”
“This guy is different, Yann. He’s really smart, and older than me. He was this big-time lawyer but burned out and decided to revamp his life. He got in shape and got his accreditation to be a trainer.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds good. What’s his name and how old is he?”
The silence on the other end is loud as fuck.
“Dimi. How old is he?”
My brother blows out a breath. “Forty.”
“Forty? What could you have in common with him?”
“Enough,” he replies, his tone tighter now. “I like older guys, okay?”
“I’m not here to criticize you, but I don’t want to see you get hurt again. These guys always seem to have… I don’t know, shitty intentions, I guess.”
“You know as well as I do that there’s nothing much for a guy like me here. Guys like Lawrence give me something to look forward to. I can be myself with him. Besides, the money and gifts are nice.”
“I know.”
“It’s not like we’re gonna get married.” His voice is softer now. “When I finish school, I’ll do something else like you did. Maybe I’ll come to New Onyx.”
“Maybe. Is your dad being okay these days?”
“Yeah, he’s been pretty stable. Haven’t seen a drink in a few days. Mom said he’s going back to the men’s prayer group too.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It takes more than a crusty group of conservative men reading Bible verses to calm Rich down after he’s had too many drinks. “If that helps him stay off the bottle I’m all for it.”
“Me too. Hey, how is the big city? Are you having fun?”
“Uh, yeah.” I scratch the back of my head. “I went out last night and found a really cool nightclub. I might work there part-time while I figure things out.”
“Any pretty girls?”
His question conjures images of Hale in my mind. “Nah.” I know I could tell my gay brother about the feelings I have, but it feels premature. Mild interest in a guy doesn’t feel worthy of a conversation just yet.
I was the first person Dimi told about his own sexuality, supporting him as he came out to our conservative parents and helping him navigate the people around town. He has a few solid friends at college and has found his way, and I’m so damn proud of him.
“I bet you’ll find someone amazing,” Dimi says. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks. It’ll happen when the time is right. I’m still learning the city and getting settled in.”
“Oh, I looked up Pride, and it’s in August. Maybe I can visit then.”
“I’d love that. Miss you, kidult.”
Dimi laughs. “I miss you too, old man.”
“Stay safe.”
“Always.”
We end the call and I walk over to my sofa and plop down, memories of the day my mom brought Dimi home from the hospital passing through my mind. My dad was never around, and I was already ten when she met Dimi’s dad, but he provided a lot of stability. I liked him at first, but about six years ago, he started drinking too much, making it hard to be around him sometimes.
I worried that he wouldn’t take his son being gay well, but both parents are reasonable about it. I wouldn’t say they’re happy, but they aren’t cruel or rejecting him either.
I just hope he’s being safe with these daddy figures he tends to date. He gets so wrapped up in them and then when it inevitably fizzles out, he’s like a lost puppy for a few weeks. Maybe after college he’ll move away from our hometown and experience more people his age. That’s my hope.
My thoughts shift back to my situation and my next move. There’s no point denying that I want to learn more about the club and the mysterious man who runs it, so I guess I’m going back tonight. With that decision made, I lean back on the couch and grab the remote, ready to surf channels for a few hours.
When I moved here, I told myself I’d be open to whatever life throws at me, so that’s exactly what I plan to do.
A few hours pass and I’m starting to feel antsy. Sitting on the couch has lost its luster, so I pull myself up, throw on my sneakers, and head outside for some fresh air and a little exercise. I jog down the street, dodging the people crowding the sidewalk, from kids standing around talking to moms carrying shopping bags and kids, and the occasional person walking a dog. On the corner, I pause, waiting for the light to change and deciding on a direction.
The next block over has a group of guys standing near the convenience store entrance. Since I moved here, they’ve given me a bad vibe, so I’ve avoided them so far. Are they gang members? Maybe, but not the kind my parents warned me about when I told them I was moving here. These guys are groomed well and dressed in sharp clothes. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re Italian or maybe even Greek based on their looks, but there’s something ominous about their presence.
When the light changes, I dart across the street and down the sidewalk away from the group. I’m strong enough to hold my own in a one-on-one fight, but I’m not interested in taking on five at once.
After a few miles, I come to a stop, bending over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath. A hard sweat is always a good thing. Looking up, I realize I’ve gone down a street that’s seen better days. The stench of old trash and urine wafts from the alley next to me, turning my stomach. A sex worker leans against the stop sign at the corner, glancing around with a bored expression while she twists a lock of her red hair.
Before she can catch my eye, I turn in the other direction and jog back to the main street to relative safety, but run right into a scene that I’m pretty sure is a drug transaction. A guy with baggy jeans and a leather jacket leans into the passenger side window of a black sedan with tinted windows. He turns his head sharply to peer at me, but I avert my eyes, darting in the other direction.
Didn’t see a thing. That’s my motto.
With my pulse kicked up again, I keep running back to my place, but I catch the sound of a car slowing down beside me. Ignoring it, I maintain my pace, hoping to shake them off if it’s me they’re following.
“Hey.”
The voice sends a shiver of fear down my spine, but I don’t look in that direction.
“Yo. Dude.”
Fuck. It is me they’re following. Unsure what to do, I attempt to cross the street, but the car pulls directly in front of me, stopping me from going forward. The passenger rolls his window down the rest of the way, peering at me with narrowed eyes.
“You didn’t hear me?”
“Sorry. I was jogging.”
He nods, taking me in from head to toe. “You live around here?”
“Not this street. A few blocks away. I don’t want any trouble.”
He chuckles. “No? Maybe I want some.”
Dragging a hand through my hair, I scan my surroundings, looking for a way out of this.
“Do you know who I am?” the man asks.
“No. Should I?”
The driver makes a noise that sounds like he doesn’t believe me.
“I just moved here. I don’t know anything.”
“Hmm. That could be true. See here, this street, this whole neighborhood, it’s mine now. My name is Ricco Bianchi.”
The way he said his name makes me think I should know the significance of it, but I got nothing.
He sighs. “Bianchi?”
“Sorry. Like I said, I’m new here.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well then let me educate you. You don’t want to fuck with the Bianchi family. If you’re a smart man, you’ll keep your eyes to yourself.”
I nod. “Yeah. Absolutely. I didn’t see nothing anyway.”
He studies my face, clearly sizing me up. “Yeah, okay, I believe you. Don’t know how a guy like you ended up in this neighborhood, but stay out of my business and we’ll be good.”
“You got it.”
Without another word he raises his window and the car backs out onto the street before taking off. The tires squeal on the asphalt and music blares from the speakers. Shaken, I hurry back to my building, taking the stairs two at a time to get back to the safety of my apartment.
What I learned from that interaction is that I stand out here. And that’s not a good thing.
I’m uneasy after that, the excitement I felt about tonight drained away. Standing in my kitchen, I lean on the counter, debating my next steps. There’s no way I’m hiding away in my apartment. No fucking way. That dude wanted to scare me, but I can’t cave in like that.
Maybe Hale will have some tips on how to protect myself. As soon as his name pops into my head, my nerves relax a little. Something about him feels safe to me. He’ll know what to do.
I’m sure of it.