Looking to rinse ourselves of our carelessly acquired filth, we journeyed to my personal shower stall. What? Of course I have a shower stall of my own. The repulsive juices us whore boys get sprayed with on a daily basis demands it.
Having removed our clothing, we located our naked selves under the same shower head, rinsing and lathering, all the while engaged in casual chit chat and occasional laughs. Excited by petty conversation, we dawdled in the shower for much longer than needed. The deliciously odd character of Frankie created a foreign emotion in me, and I felt excited by it.
In the midst of our laughter, our eyes met. The instant intensity involved was a union that could only be understood by those of aspiring lovers. Unconsciously, I leaned closer, and as was instinct, I found myself aiming for his lips. As had become familiar to me, Frankie blushed and grew shy, but stayed put nonetheless. Delicately, my lips connected with his, and we kissed. This time around, there was no awkwardness, no uncertainty, and no ‘whore to client’ professionalism. The connection was thrilling and incredible. It was the greatest feeling I had ever felt.
As a young and misled teenager, Frankie took me as something more than just a whore. I was, instead, a parody of a lover during his vacation here at the IceZone. I, on the other hand, seemed to trust this illusion more than I probably should have. You see, as was common with all whores, I have long been desensitized to every physical aspect of love and sex. Intimacy is scarce in my line of work, which was why this was so incredibly electrifying for me. It was new. It was different. It was unpredictable. Under the terrifying yet wondrous effect, I felt my harsh exterior melt. Layers upon layers of my tainted personality softened, and I felt almost ‘alive’ again. In that moment, I felt like less of a whore and more of an actual person. And although I trusted it, it also made me very vulnerable.
Ending our kiss, I looked affectionately into this his beautiful light brown eyes and smiled. Not the usual devious smile, nor the money-earning smile, but one of happiness and appreciation. We held our mesmerizing gaze and were both lost to the moment.
Although the moment was immensely beautiful, I was increasingly aware of the underlying issue of an approaching morning; which was but a short hour away, already leaving me drowsy and weary. Frankie noticed this and became very quiet. “W-will I see you? Tomorrow? Before I-“
“I like you, Frankie,” I interrupted, not sure if my answer was even related to his question.
The corners of his mouth curved into a smile. His hand bashfully and distractedly raked through his hair. “I-I, ummm, I like… ahem, I like you too,” he blushed, more severely than I’ve seen yet.
“Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night,” I smiled, leaning in for another kiss.
The next evening brought about a bundle of emotions. At the settling of the sun, I stumbled awake immediately to thoughts of Frankie. We were two people in love, but two people that really shouldn’t be in love. Frankie was due back in his world of sunlight later on tonight, and I would be returning to my life of eternal prostitution. Under this thick disheartening haze, I lifted myself off my low budget bed, exited my shithole apartment, and scampered off to my whore house. Sigh…
Upon entering the threshold, I found that Frankie was already there, and beside him stood Evan, behaving like a moron as usual.
“Work, detector, work!” Evan was shouting idiotically at the device in his hand, as though he could somehow will it to life. “Subsist! Ascend! Turn on!”
I approached the two and slung my arms over their shoulders. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Up until now, they were unaware of my presence. Abruptly, Frankie spun around and hugged me, then, to my alarm, he began to sob. Like, full out sobs. Actual whimpers and tears. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to look him in the face.
Between sniffles and sobs, Frankie mumbled inaudibly into my shoulder.
“Evan!” I snarled, very quick to make assumptions. “What the hell did you do?”
Evan narrowed his eyes and spoke, “Dude, what the fuck are you accusing ME for? I was trying to help him! He said he got separated from his dad. And then this piece of shit here broke.”
I snatched the device out of his hand and inspected it. It was your typical IceZone tracking device, but was obviously broken.
“Frankie, there, there. It’ll be okay. Do you know what platform you’re supposed to exit at? Maybe you could meet your dad there,” I suggested, being as optimistic as possible. Although I was selfish and wanted nothing more but the idea of Frankie remaining here at the IceZone, I could not stand the sight or the idea of him crying. The decision wasn’t one that needed considering. I would help this boy no matter what, even if it was to my own unhappiness.
Between sniffles, he whimpered, “I-I think… I think, I-I can’t remember… n-not exactly, but… but, I think… I think it was the… the eastern… eastern platform.”
I cringed at those words.
“Ummm, isn’t the eastern platform, like, a five day walk thataway?” questioned Evan, gesturing to an area that was by no means within our vision.
“Shit, your dad probably took the shuttle bus. Those things cost more than I can afford. Shit,” I muttered, still considering our options.
Frankie shook even harder in my embrace. It was very hard to look at.
I inwardly sighed to myself and told my common sense to shut the hell up.
“Well, Frankie, I guess… I guess we’re walking,” I said, astounding myself to the agreement of a five day hike, through the friggin’ IceZone no less.
Frankie nodded sadly, but squeezed me affectionately as though to express his gratitude.
“Come on,” I said, kissing him on the top of his head, “Let’s get you out of this club.”