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Four long weeks passed since I decided to jump from the wall. Everything seemed to be working out. Vic and I made love often, and I kept my sanity by reading, watching TV, and cleaning the house. The problem was that it gradually didn't seem to be enough. I hated the four walls of my temporary prison more and more every day. I needed a breath of fresh air.

Staring at the full laundry basket, I decided I didn't have much choice but to leave the safety of the apartment and venture out to the laundry room by the entrance of the building.

Typically, Vic would do laundry, but I had no clean clothingto wear. I decided curing my cabin fever was more important than the risk of being seen. Pulling on a black hooded sleeveless shirt, I yankedthe hooddown as far as it would go, then marched to the elevator with the overstuffed laundry basket in my arms.

When I reached the laundry room,I slipped a few sinders into the soap vending machine.Vic had been giving me a tiny allowance to order food, and I hated feeling like a mooch. But it wasn't like I couldeasilygo out and find a job if I wanted to.

After filling the washer, Itook a seaton a gaudy purple chair and waited. As much as I wanted to get out of the apartment, being out in the open had my anxiety running at full steam. When the load finally finished, I got up and dumped the lump of clothes into an open dryer.

As I closed the door, I heard someone say, "Starburst? Holy shit, man. Is that you?"

It felt like mysoul was about to leave my body as my eyes shifted to the man. I knew him; I had shot at least ten pornos with him. His porn name was Kyle Cockley. Why the fuck did I come out here? What the fuck is wrong with me? Even with millions of people in this walled-off city, Iwas never going tobe safe with that giant billboard standing above every building. At least not this close to the Sin District, anyway.

Backing away, I shook my head, quickly turning my back to him. "You got the wrong guy."

"Oh, come on, man, don't play me. I know it's you. I didn't know you paid off your debt. It makes sense that Hobbs canceled so many shoots."

I didn't reply. Instead, I ran. I pushed pasthim, knockinghimoffhisfeet. All I could hear was him shouting, "What the fuck?!" as I bolted down the hall towards the elevator. Before I pressed the button, I decided it wasn't a good idea togo backto Vic's apartment. If Kyle said anything to the authorities, I didn't need to take Vic downwith me. Harboring a fugitive could put him in shackles for years. There would be a bidding war over who would get him, Hobbs or Alex. Knowing Trevor, he would spend as much as it took to turn Vic into his latest porn sensation just to spite me.

Shaking, I turned around.Kyle stood outsideofthe laundry room, demanding to knowwhat my problem was.I ignored him, running directly out the double doors of the building.

The street was crowded. This was my opportunity to slip into oblivion. But I had nowhere to go. Not wanting to draw too much attention, I kept my pace brisk but not a full-out run. Why the fuck did I leave that apartment? What did I expect to happen? Nothing good ever happened to me. It was as if I had been cursed since birth for something I had done in a previous life.

I walked for hours, keeping my head low, trying tomake surenobody would identify me. By the time the sun began to set, I had startedtorecognizemy surroundings. Beat-up shacks made of wood and rust were nearly stacked ontop ofeach other. Tarps were used as walls or roofs, and crude, uneven windows were placed wherever they would fit. People sat around small fires, keeping themselves warm or cooking their evening meal. This was the place I grew up in. The Slog.

A river of anxiety flowed under my skin as I walked down the dirt path. I was back home, where this entire shit show had started. Somehow, my subconscious had led me back. This would be my life again. No more penthouse, no more fancy food, no more fancy clothes, but best of all, no more Trevor. I'd hate it, especially since I hadgotten a taste ofa better existence, but Trevor wouldn't think to look for me in the Slog. All I needed to do was suck a few dicks, and I could afford enough scraps to build myself a shack. After all, it wasn't anything new. I wasn't above it. Shit, I had been forced to do it for ten years.

Not to mention, I could sell my name. Why would any would-be client rat me out if they could get my timeforway cheaper thannormal? Sex seemed to be the only thing I was good at anyway. Why stop? As the night air became increasingly cold, Ihighlydoubted anyone would let a stranger curl up against their fire. That left me with one option. I needed to go home.