Page 15

–––––

Juri

Luca was already waiting for me at the tram station.

Although he seemed lost in thought, he stood out in the dreary weather like a firefly.

After taking one last drag of his cigarette, he exhaled the smoke and crushed the butt underfoot.

His presence made me nervous. My heart raced as I stood before the pedestrian crossing, with him just sixty feet away.

He turned his head and noticed me. Once again, there was that instant when he returned from his own world to reality.

A shy smile formed on his face as he tilted his head slightly.

God, the guy really has no clue how hot he is.

I crossed the street, internally shaking my head.

“Hi.”

As expected, his greeting was almost timid, but his smile was no less charming.

Get it together , I told myself, putting on an indifferent expression. After all, he wasn’t a client I needed to deceive. Actually, it’s much worse! He wants me to inspire him! Damn! What am I doing here?

“Hello,” I replied dryly, taking a drag of my cigarette—relieved that it hadn’t burned down yet. At least there was something I could hold onto.

“You came,” he said, easing his tension. “I was afraid that might be a no-show.”

“Am I late?” I asked, puzzled, glancing at my phone. It was already ten past nine. “Oh, sorry. It wasn’t intentional.”

“No problem, you’re here now. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care.” My indifference sounded too much like our date was a punishment for me. But in reality, it was the other way around, and I was just terribly inexperienced.

For heaven’s sake, pull yourself together! Be yourself!

But that was the snag. There was no clock ticking here. And there was no billing at the end. This was leisure time.

Shit! Stay cool. It’s not like it’s a date!

Luca’s shy glance only intensified my guilt. I gestured toward Langstrasse. “The bar over there just opened,” I said with a shrug.

“Sounds good.”

I felt awkward, yet all we did was cross the street together and head to the bar. Since it had just opened, most of the seats were still available.

“Do you want to sit at the bar or at a small table?” Luca asked as he loosened his scarf.

He had something vulnerable about him, like a helpless bunny, even though he had recently proven himself stronger than me. I had felt his muscles distinctly when I almost fell.

“Here are two stools.” I walked over to the last standing table by the window. This way, we could sit facing each other.

As I removed my coat, he was already standing in front of me with his wallet. “I’ll pay. What would you like?”

“A beer,” I said, sitting on the stool. While I waited, I checked my phone, but there was still no sign of Noé. I was really worried.

Luca returned with two beers and sat down. As he raised his glass, I forced a smile and clinked glasses with him. The gesture seemed almost too solemn for my taste. But if I remembered correctly, all I had to do was be present. He had even mentioned that I didn’t have to play the clown.

“Are recordings allowed?” he asked out of the blue.

Completely caught off guard, I stared at him for a moment, but his expression turned serious. “Really?”

“You said filming wasn’t allowed.”

“Yeah! Could be you’re some kind of pervert.”

“Me? No.” Luca chuckled.

“Promise you won’t film me.”

“Promise. I just want to talk to you. And before I start making notes all the time …”

“Because I have so many interesting things to say …”

Laughing, he shrugged.

“With the loud music here? It drowns out everything anyway.”

“We’ll see.”

He opened an app on his phone and placed it between us on the table. I glanced at his screen suspiciously.

“And now?”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“No,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Why don’t you tell me something?”

He bit his lip and shook his head, laughing. “Okay. I owe you that.” He took another sip of his beer. “I’m a bit under pressure. I have to submit my concept for the final project in a week. If I don’t manage that, it’ll be tight. And I don’t want to extend another semester in the fall.”

“What’s it about?”

“Do you know … um … back rooms?”

I grimaced. “Yes?” It was more of a question.

I knew plenty of back rooms in clubs and bars where dirty or dubious things happened.

Even the old tobacco shop around the corner had a back room.

It had been in operation since the 19th century.

But somehow, I had the suspicion that Luca was talking about something else.

“You’re thinking about the dirty back rooms, am I right?”

I laughed. “And you’re not?”

“The back rooms are boundless spaces. Endless corridors. A labyrinth outside our real world. Once you get lost in them, you’ll never find your way out again.

They keep you there, torment you with your own monsters.

And there’s no escape, because in the back rooms, you don’t age and you can’t die. You’re trapped.”

As much as I respected Luca’s passionate description, somehow these back rooms seemed quite familiar to me.

With my work as a callboy, it felt like I was trapped in one myself.

Training to be a chef had been an attempt to break free, but it hadn’t worked out.

Sex work had caught up with me, and I was back to square one.

“You seem lost in thought,” Luca said, pulling me out of my gloomy thoughts. “Everything okay?”

I shook off the melancholy and forced a smile. “Yeah. Of course. What do you plan to do with this idea?”

“It’s going to be a short film. The requirement is 15 minutes. But I’m still stuck on the details.”

“Ah, I don’t know much about short films.”

“Do you like movies?”

“Who doesn’t like movies?” I replied with a counter-question.

“True. The question should rather be: Which movies do you like?”

“Well, I’m more into … I like modern noir films like L.A. Confidential , Lost Highway , or The Salton Sea .”

For a moment, my response seemed to leave him speechless.

“Wow … uh … I really didn’t expect that.

I mean …” He spread both hands and gestured toward me.

“Sure, it doesn’t surprise me that you like film noir.

You hang out at gothic parties, but … The Salton Sea ! One of my absolute favorite movies!”

A warm feeling spread within me as I took a sip. It was the first time I had met someone who knew the movie. That, coupled with Luca’s excitement, brought a smile to my face.

“Have you seen Drive ?” he asked, his eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

“Of course!”

And before I knew it, we delved into a long conversation about movies.

I had no idea if this still aligned with Luca’s desire for me to inspire him; we were just chatting about something we both equally enjoyed.

When he started talking about camera angles and lighting, I was captivated by his passion—and by his sensual lips.

Gradually, Luca shed his inhibitions as he became more relaxed. He gestured freely, and his laughter seemed more genuine. I also felt increasingly comfortable in his presence.

We could converse with each other naturally, and through it, I learned that he lived in a shared flat and practiced martial arts at least four times a week. There I was, with my three gym sessions, which took me only thirty minutes.

At some point, we drifted into the topic of music and realized that the sound playing wasn’t to our liking at all, so I suggested changing bars.

“It’s just after midnight,” he said, pocketing his phone, which was now dead. “Is anything still open?”

“The Olé-Olé-Bar is always open,” I said, slipping into my coat and wrapping the scarf around me.

“Okay, let’s go.”

We walked along Langstrasse and below the underpass.

With Luca by my side, I felt an indescribable sense of contentment.

I had no idea how he had managed it, but over the past few hours, I was captivated by him.

My full attention was on him, and I enjoyed the evening to the fullest. I couldn’t explain to myself what the guy had done to me, but it just felt right.

Normally, on Tuesdays, it was rather difficult for me to unwind from my workweek, but as we walked side by side, making jokes and even bumping shoulders, I felt good.

Luca was interesting, and the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know about him.

We had a similar sense of humor and laughed at the same things.

When those moments hit me, I became so painfully aware of the situation, and I pushed down the emerging feeling of shame and focused on Luca again.

He truly awakened a part of me that I thought was lost for years, and he did so while remaining so reserved and polite, as if he were afraid to ruin the connection we had between us.

When we reached the Olé-Olé-Bar, he even held the door open for me.

Such gestures were not unfamiliar to me—many of my clients liked to play the gentleman.

But with Luca, it was different. He wasn’t a 50-year-old banker with a wife and kids, whom I gave the opportunity to be someone else for a few hours.

It was Luca, meeting me as an equal, and his face lit up with the most beautiful smile on his face I had ever seen.

Hard rock music greeted us, and for a Tuesday night, it was packed.

However, everything changed in the bar all at once.

In the vicinity of the entrance, at the very first standing table, I spotted Noé sitting with three guys.

Their inebriation was evident, with Noé equally partaking in the revelry, having heavily indulged himself.

“Bro!” I said, gesturing to Luca to wait for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing Noé in this state almost broke my heart, but at the same time, I was glad to find him here. Even though he hadn’t responded to any of my messages, he was okay, and that was the most important thing. And could I blame him for the relapse when his mother had just died?

“Juri-Rock!” He extended his arms out and hugged me.

“Are you celebrating your birthday here?” I asked, hugging him back.

“What? It’s your birthday?” one of his companions asked.

“Well, yesterday was his birthday,” I said, pointing to one of the countless clocks hanging from the ceiling.

“Then I’ll buy another round!” the guy exclaimed. “Come on! Sit with us! I’m Pascal! These are Anton and Piet.”

I was torn. I didn’t want to leave Noé alone, but I also didn’t want to scare Luca off, who looked overwhelmed right now. “We’ll just toast quickly, okay?” I said to Luca, trying to show him with a smile that everything was okay. “He’s sort of like my brother,” I explained.

“O-okay.”

Shortly after, we all held a tequila shot in our hands and raised a toast to Noé’s birthday together.

“I’ll be right over there,” I said to Noé and pointed to the bar. Luca was already sitting on a stool, ordering two beers.

“It’s fine,” Noé said with a heavy tongue.