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Juri

Wednesday night was party time. And even though my buddies all had to work the next day, it was the best night out you could get for free.

I enjoyed dancing to the Dark Wave tunes or the hard industrial sounds, completely zoning out and forgetting all the crap from the past week.

Kevin was hitting it off with a goth chick, Sandro was at the bar getting refills, and Clé was trying to cheer me up.

“You’ll definitely find another apprenticeship. I’m sure of it.”

“I’m too old,” I replied.

“You’re twenty-three. That’s not old.”

“I can’t do anything,” I retorted.

“That’s not true,” he argued vehemently. “You have plenty of experience in customer service, great people skills, and know your way around customer care.”

“Urgh …” I shook my head incredulously. “Sounds great coming from you.”

My former school friends knew what I had been doing to make money in recent years, and they didn’t hide it anymore. In our group of four, being a callboy wasn’t much different from being a polymechanic, salesman, or screen printer, like Clé was.

“I’ll ask around at the company to see if they’ll be taking on apprentices again next year,” Clé said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “So, what else is new?”

“Well,” I said loud enough for him to hear. “I followed your advice, but it backfired.”

“My advice? What crazy idea did I put into your head?”

“You know exactly what!” I retorted, pushing him away affectionately.

Clé squinted his eyes and scratched his neck. Suddenly, it dawned on him. “No! You didn’t … You weren’t out with someone your own age, were you?”

“We went for drinks, but just briefly.”

Clé looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“Briefly, just that.” I shrugged.

“Then spill it! Was it a guy? I hope so. Because I wouldn’t accept a woman.”

“A guy,” I admitted.

Just then, Sandro returned with three whiskey colas and placed them on the standing table next to us. “Here you go, guys!”

We clinked glasses, and Clé filled him in on the news.

“And? Was he cute?” Sandro asked, who didn’t fancy guys any more than Clé did.

Luca’s face still lingered in my mind. “Oh yeah,” I admitted. “He was really hot.”

“And what was the problem?” Clé asked in a suspicious tone.

“He wanted … I don’t know exactly … to be inspired … I think.”

“And how?”

My gaze fell on Clé's studded collar. The way he looked at me, with his puppy eyes and brushed back dark brown hair, had something to it. Reaching for my phone, I took a picture of him.

“Quit being distracted!” Sandro called impatiently.

Clé put his arm around Sandro’s shoulder and grinned at me. It wasn’t the first invitation to a photo shoot I had received from them today, and the pictures were great.

“Did he tell you how you should inspire him?” Clé asked as I glimpsed at the pictures.

“No,” I replied reluctantly, putting the phone away.

“So he didn’t want you as an escort?”

I shrugged. “He didn’t say exactly. He mentioned something about a project. Film.”

“He probably wants to shoot a porno with you,” Sandro said.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t know how I make my money.”

Or maybe he suspected something?

There are people who have an eye for that sort of thing. And if he’s studying film, he might have already figured me out. No one can be that naive, given the hourly rate I quoted him.

“And why did it backfire?” Clé asked. “Did you screw up or did he?”

“You have to ask?”

Clé sighed and shook his head. “Let me guess. You gave him a price.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You know that earnings don’t always have to be money, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can see you’re thinking about it and wondering if you shouldn’t have said yes after all.”

“He almost had me there,” I admitted. With his embarrassment and sweet look, Luca had almost convinced me to say yes. Not because I wanted to inspire him but because he interested me. Luckily, I came to my senses in time. “But why should I have done that?”

“For a change? To be inspired yourself?”

I struggled to understand Clé and furrowed my brow.

“Come on, dude! You just lost your apprenticeship and need to figure things out. It’s completely normal to feel a bit lost. A little inspiration would do you good too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t need inspiration. If the guy pays, I’m up for anything. Except for filming.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? You don’t ask us for money.”

“That’s different. I don’t even know the guy.” I kept to myself the fact that I wanted to get to know him.

“This would be the opportunity to get to know someone your own age better. Maybe he’s nice. And who knows, maybe something will come out of it.”

“Like what?” I grumbled.

“No idea! A friendship? Through connections, maybe a chance at a new job? That’s what you want, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tried being a chef.”

“It wasn’t the right fit,” I muttered, sipping my new whiskey cola.

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Clé said, putting his arm around me and patting my shoulder.

I’m not kidding myself . But the fact was, Luca’s storm-gray eyes just wouldn’t leave my mind. They had sparkled so beautifully that I would never forget them. His hidden enthusiasm when he had asked me to be his muse had almost sparked something.

Not a single one of my clients had ever looked at me like that.

Not that I wished they would; after all, they were my clients! They paid me! It was my job to look at them like that. Still, the thought saddened me a little that I was deprived of such a thing.

Right on time, my inner guardian spoke up.

After all, I was lucky if the clients went home satisfied and soon contacted me again.

I earned a good income, enough so that I even paid a small portion in taxes.

But I mostly set it aside. My fear of hard times was too great.

I could never have lived the lifestyle Noé had chosen.

He could do it and was strong enough for it.

But if all else failed, he still had the option to go home to his mother.

Sure, it was a crappy option, but at least he had it. Unlike me.

And ultimately, I didn’t need to think about it anymore. Luca was gone. I would never see him again. So I could stop mourning him for no reason.

“If only I were into guys,” Clé said next to me. “Then I would have hooked up with you ages ago.”

The way he grinned at me, he had just noticed that I was drifting into darkness.

He knew this side of me too well. He had often nursed me back to health after a client had flipped out.

He had taken care of my bruises and contusions, without trying to convince me to change jobs.

He accepted it as it was, but when he looked at me like that, it was hard for me to ignore the pain in his gaze.

The best remedy to bridge these peculiar moments was to smile at him.

“You don’t earn enough to afford me,” I said mischievously, gesturing with the glass in my hand toward the dance floor. “Are you coming too?”

I didn’t wait for him because I had the urge to move. Besides, I didn’t want to think about Luca anymore, although I had been doing it the whole time. I knew full well that nothing would ever come of it, even if I had agreed to inspire him—whatever that meant.

Even though my friends didn’t distinguish between our jobs, I knew that mine was completely out of the norm.

In the circles I moved in, it wasn’t a problem.

The people who knew me and booked me considered me a service provider.

But as soon as I had dealings with outsiders, this shame rose in me, which I couldn’t dispel with a charming smile or a big mouth.

As if in a trance, I moved to the industrial sound booming loudly from the speakers. I liked dancing because it allowed me to forget everything around me. It was like being in another dimension. Weightless and free. Away from all the jumbled thoughts, from the things I couldn’t have anyway.

Clé wrapped his arms around me from behind and hugged me. We moved together to the rhythm of the music, and I felt his warmth on my back. He had the ability to make me feel, if only for a brief moment, like I was enough. I knew my price. I wasn’t priceless.

Before succumbing to the dark whirlpool, I managed to suppress the thought and gulped down the drink in large swallows. Today was party time and the urge to get wasted was undeniable. That felt justified, especially after losing my apprenticeship. Too bad I didn't have anything else to throw in.

With another gulp, I conquered the melancholy, and my mood improved again. We joked around and enjoyed the evening. And when my glass was empty, Clé took it from my hand.

“It’s my turn,” he said and went to the bar to get more.