Page 5 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories

“We got carried away.”

Devon goes to say something along the lines of an apology, but I shake my head. Standing and walking out from behind my kit, I snap my eyes to the floor and beeline for the door. Once outside, I dig out my vape from my pocket and take a couple of pulls. I rub my eyes, trying to staunch the burn in them. If any form of higher power exists in the universe, I hope they hear my silent beg.

Pleasedon’t let Eli show up on this tour. It’s one thing to know he’s fucking other people, kissing and touching them. It’s another to see it in the flesh, and I’ve been spared so far.

The door to the studio swings open behind me. Jorge wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Forgive me?”

A weak laugh exits my lips. “I forgive you.”

My best friend is a physical guy. He will kiss you on the lips if you bring him Pop Rocks, so it’s not weird that he lingers, holding me in a comforting embrace. “We can still ask my uncle about the pigs,” he whispers in my ear, successfully getting a real laugh from me.

“No. I’m not feeling stabby anymore. I just…”

“It sucks. It does.” He squeezes me tighter before releasing me to puff on his vape. “I don’t want to be that guy.” I blink at him. “The one who tells you that the only way to get over him is to get under someone else.”

“Then don’t.”

“I wasn’t.” He grins. The wind flutters his curly hair off his face. “Besides. You don’t bottom.”

Inwardly, I cringe, hating that the one time I got drunk, I told him I was strictly a top. Little does he know… “I’ll be good in a few minutes. We can finish up the set.”

“Are you sure?” His dark brown eyes puddle. God, he’s such a pushover. I bet I could get him to do anything if I look slightly sad. Scratch that, I have. Quite a few times.

“I’m sure.”

Clapping a hand on my shoulder, he says, “He will regret what he did. Sooner or later. And when he does, you’ll be buried in some new sweet ass, too doped up on love or whatever to give a fuck.”

I chuckle, wishing with all my body that was the truth. But I know deep down that if I see Eli again, it’ll be the exact opposite. And that’s my biggest fear.

Eli

Our Cold Hands

Sometimes I wonder why I exist.

Like, what grand being decided to make me,me?And what kind of drugs were they on when they did it?

My brain is all noise. Screams, grunts, and gasps all collectively drown out logic and rational thinking. It’s why I stuff my nose with powder. I need it quiet for a while, you know? A lot of people don’t understand, and it’s not like I’m doing cocaine or meth. It’s Adderall, but people treat it like something it isn’t.

I’m using it to focus—that’sit.

Swiping my nose and sniffling loudly, I look at myself in the mirror. What the hell am I doing here? Withhim?

The tour bus hits a bump, jostling me in the tiny bathroom. My elbow smacks into the wall, and I laugh. This is just like me. I’ll be confident that things are going differently. That my life is finally taking a turn in the right direction. And then, like I’ve been zapped from one place to another, I find myself in places like this. And with people like Leon. It wasn’t always that way, though, was it?

No.

I had something good there for a while. Something…magical, in all honesty. But like I do with everything, I fucked it all up. I like to think I did him a favor—Phoenix.I don’t know if we would’ve worked out long-term. We only lasted as long as we did because of the distance. With him in California and me in Illinois, it created that buffer to hide everything I never wanted him to know about. He’s a successful musician—his life is on the road. And I present to the world that I’m a sex worker whose entire career revolves around a camera.

When I got into this, I was young and dumb. Making easy money from whipping out my dick just seemed like the right move considering what my life was like. I’ve always been hypersexual, so that part was easy for me. And when I found out that the market for gay porn made me even more money, I jumped ship with speed. Hell, when I first started in the industry, I swore up and down I was straight. That delusional bubble burst pretty fast once I got into the nitty gritty, AKA having penetrative sex with men.

I don’thatemy job.

I’m well off financially, own my house, and am comfortable. I can travel often and meet new people. But as a kid, I always thought I was supposed to be a doctor or…a marine biologist. Something less vain, I guess. Someone important. And maybe even something that would keep me as far away from my parents’ footsteps as humanly possible.

Too late for second thoughts now. Too late for a lot of shit because of the way I have lived my life.

I think the worst part is that I’m unable to stop the trajectory of it. I don’t know how not to destroy everything I touch.

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