Chapter 1 #2
That's traditional. Don't mess with tradition!
He told himself as he saw the amount of the gift certificate and realized he'd get to not only catch the film he'd so desperately wanted to see, but the voucher would cover the cost of snacks and the 3D surcharge.
He idly wished there was someone he could go watch it with.
He'd moved from his parent's apartment in small town Adkins to the college dorms of the state university, then when his parents died and he couldn't afford the tuition, moved here to the city, certain that he'd find a job and a cheap apartment and enjoy a bit of city life while he was at it.
He'd found the cheap apartment and he'd found a decent enough job, but so far the city life wasn't as enjoyable as he'd imagined.
Sure, the movies at the local cineplex were first run and in a fancy theater.
There were even several decent places to go see plays and the city boasted a ballet troupe and its own orchestra.
There were even several good restaurants and gay clubs that catered to nearly every taste.
The problem was two fold as he saw it. One was money.
He made enough that he had a bit of cash between pay checks, so he could go out every once in a great while, and even order takeaway every now and again.
There wasn't enough to make it a regular habit though. Then there was reason number two.
Going out and doing stuff is a lot more fun when you have someone else to do it with.Don't get me wrong, my co-workers are great.
We just simply never seemed to make it past work buddy and they have their own friends and lives outside of work.
My neighbors are a no go. I can't imagine old Mrs. Peterson wanting to go see movies with car chases and explosions or space ships and ninjas or whatever.
He'd decided that he wasn't going to meet people if he didn't put himself out there.
Making up his mind that today had been a good day and a sign that it was his time, he put on some of the clothes he used to wear to parties when he was still at college and head to one of the clubs he'd been wanting to go to.
He'd heard good things about it from chatty customers who came in to buy from Desmond.
Desmond was also gay and he was a club rat.
People came in all the time that seemed to know him from the clubs, and Club Paradise seemed an 'it' sort of place to be despite the cheesy name.
Desmond had said that the name was leftover from when it had been a dive with low end strippers.
The sort of places where in the 1970's they'd waited tables topless save for tassels hanging off their nipples, serving office drones in cheap polyester suits who came in for happy hour and stayed to avoid going home sober.
That had closed down and the neon sign had remained so when the city finally decided to do something with the property and auctioned it off, the new owner decided to keep the name as a kind of schtick.
Whatever. As long as the music is good, the cover charge reasonable, and hopefully full of decent looking guys who'll at least talk with me and maybe even dance.
That had seemed to be going fairly well too.
The cover charge had been surprisingly low and he'd not had to wait too long to get in.
The music was perhaps a bit loud, but the dance floor was already becoming crowded and the beat set his blood pumping.
He went straight to the floor and within minutes could feel hands settle on his hips and a body begin to grind behind him.
He threw his hands in the air, and danced away.
Another man appeared and danced in front of him, laughing.
Jared danced until he was too hot and thirsty to continue, then made his way to the bar.
He willed himself to not sit in the corner seat by the wall at the bar itself and took his chances by sitting at a small table that miraculously had no one already sitting at it.
He had only just made himself comfortable when a member of the wait staff appeared and took his drink order.
He was on his second drink when two men approached his table.
“Hey, my friend and I were wondering if we could share your table? It's pretty full in here now and we didn't want to have to sit at the bar,” one of them said.
Jared smiled. He had hoped to at least meet someone to talk to, perhaps even make a new friend, and here these two good looking, buff men were asking to share his table.
Today is indeed my lucky day, he thought to himself.
“Sure, I don't mind. I'm Jared.”
The two men sat down. “Thanks. I'm Chris and this is my buddy Joe.” Joe gave him a quiet nod in lieu of a greeting. Jared's previous waiter flitted to the table and Joe ordered their drinks, including a refill for Jared.
“Thanks,” Jared beamed at his new acquaintances. Joe waved his thanks away as no big deal. “You can get the next one.”
“Sure,” Jared replied. “I can run to a round. That's my limit though. Be my third drink and I'm just a lowly sales assistant at a clothing store.”
“Been here before?” Chris asked.
“No, but Desmond- he's one of the guys from work- he talks about this place so I thought I'd check it out.”
“We've not been here before either,” Chris said.
They sat and chatted despite the noise from the dance floor, Jared getting the next round and then allowing himself to be persuaded to have a fourth drink when Chris sprang for the round of drinks after that. Not having eaten since a light lunch at work, Jared began to feel rather light headed.
God, I'm such a lightweight. Better switch to soda or maybe bottled water.
“You all right? Maybe we shouldn't have pressed you into accepting that drink,” Chris said worriedly.
“I'm feeling a bit off actually.Not sick exactly, but I think maybe I should stop now and go get some air, then switch over to soda.”
“You eaten anything?” Chris asked. “Food helps soak up the alcohol.”
“I skipped dinner, actually,” Jared said ruefully. “Thought I'd order a pizza when I got home. Treating myself tonight.”
Chris gave Joe a long look, then seeing agreement, turned back to meet Jared's gaze. “Actually, Joe and I haven't eaten either. There's a diner just up the road a little ways. How about we walk there, use the fresh air to clear our heads, and grab a bite to eat?”
“No, no. Not on my account. You guys have sat here just chatting with me. You haven't had a chance to go dance or find a guy or anything.”
“It's cool. We made a new friend instead. Let's go.”
Chris and Joe rose from their seats.
“Um, okay. A walk in the fresh air will probably do me good. Diner food sounds better than pizza.”
Chris threw him a big grin. “And you get to eat with friends.”
Jared brightened. “Yeah, I get to eat with friends.”
Jared excused himself to go to the toilet before leaving and then followed the two men out of the bar and to the edge of the parking lot.
The light was dimmer here but several feet away from where the back alley met the side street, a street light cast light upon the pavement and street.
The rest of the street appeared to be fairly well lit so Jared reckoned they would be safe enough walking that way to the diner.
He hoped it wasn't very far as his stomach was now rumbling for something to eat.
He felt decidedly lightheaded and was beginning to suspect that had to a lot to do not only with the four beers he'd drank but only having eaten a blueberry yogurt for breakfast and eating a bologna sandwich for lunch and nothing else.
“What?” He stopped in surprise. They weren't heading towards the brightly lit street. Instead Chris and Joe turned right to go into the alley.
“It's down the other street,” Chris said, pointing down the dimly lit alleyway.
“Umm...can't we go across the front where it's better lit to get there?”
“Just come on, there's three of us, we'll be fine. It's just a short walk to the other side.”
Alarm bells began to ring in Jared's mind.
They seem nice enough, but I don't really know these guys. I'm just going to turn around and walk back the other way. If they're legit, they'll follow me and we can cross to the other side street by going out front and around, where's it's well lit.
Jared turned around. “I'll meet you guys there. Dark alleys and me don't mix. God knows what's down there.”
He never expected the blow from behind that knocked him onto his hands and knees.
“What is wrong with you?” he screamed.
He received a clip on the back of his head in reply.
“Shut him up, Joe. I'll get his legs.”
Jared tried to rise but found his ankles held fast and his legs pulled out from underneath him. A cloth of some sort was crammed into his mouth and his arms pinned. The two men began to drag him towards the alley. He struggled to no avail. He hit the side of a dumpster with a head ringing clang.
“Be quiet and do what you're told, and you'll be fine. Got it?”
Jared nodded through tears. Why had no one seen what was happening?
Maybe they had and someone was telling the bouncers.
He prayed they'd come soon. Joe grabbed his hair tightly with one hand, putting pressure on the top of his head to hold him in place.
Hemmed in by the two men, he saw no escape. Tears began to leak from his eyes.
It was supposed to be a good day.
Joe yanked out the gag. Jared swallowed, trying desperately to wet his mouth. He saw the gag appeared to have been a blue checkered bandana. Jared flinched as he heard the unmistakeable sound of a zipper sliding.
Oh God. No, please no.
Jared surged forward in desperation.
A meaty hand back handed him across the mouth, knocking him back. His bottom lip stung where a ring on Chris' finger split it.
“What did I tell you, huh? Just do as you're told and you'll be all right.” Chris grasped Jared's jaw tightly, digging in his fingers and applying downward pressure. “Now open wide, fag boy, and don't you dare bite me.”