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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Freshmen - 40. Chapter 40

October 8, 2004

The Acela Train

Close to New York, NY

Will

The announcer said we’d arrive in New York in ten minutes, so I started to put my laptop away. The train ride had been pretty smooth, and I’d used the time to knock out some of my homework that was due next week. I had developed a system to stay ahead, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to spend uninterrupted time with Travis on the weekends.

This had been a bizarre week. Niko, Scotty, Fab, and I were good, but Thor had pretty much stayed away from the suite. He was probably doing his homework in the library, and rumor had it he was spending a lot of time with the baseball team. I had bought into Wade’s hypothesis that Thor was staying away from me because I was too tempting, but it was really sad that he’d pretty much blown me off. I had started off at Harvard with him as a tight friend and now he was gone. I was pissed off that he’d totally blown me off, but I was also really concerned about him. He’d clawed his way back into the closet, trying to avoid even admitting he was bisexual, and that was going to put a lot of pressure on him. I couldn’t help but think that somehow this would end up exploding in his face.

I sighed, then thought of Fab and smiled. He was fun and extroverted like me, but not as intensely outgoing as Niko. Fab and I did our own thing, but we also did stuff together. And most importantly, he had helped me keep my libido under control. We usually fooled around every day: sometimes it was a blow job, sometimes it was anal, but whatever it was, it was fun and satisfying. We had an easy relationship, basically friends that fucked, but it was hypercharged by the fact that we could both speak French. That created an intimacy between us, aside from the sex, that I hadn’t had with Thor.

While the deal with Thor bugged me, the person who was foremost in my mind was Travis. I was really worried about him. He’d called and told me he’d hooked up with some dude on Tuesday, and I had handled that well. It had only bothered me a little bit, and even that had faded quickly enough. But then every day after that, our conversations had gotten more tense, and that emotion was coming from Travis. I could have let myself spaz out and think that he’d found someone else, and he was nervous about talking to me and explaining it, but that fear vanished almost as soon as it hit my psyche. He wasn’t that fickle, and he wouldn’t hurt me like that, at least not without some warning. I knew how he worked, and if there was another man in his life, I’d see that relationship building; it wouldn’t be a sudden thing. In the end I realized that whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with me, but because I loved him so much, it bugged me to hear how uptight he’d become.

I looked at the time and noted that it was only 2:00. I’d blown off my last class today and had gotten here as early as I could. I texted Travis as the train pulled into the station, and he responded with the simple word, “awesome.” He hadn’t really talked to me about what I was supposed to do when I got here, but I figured that if he didn’t pick me up, I’d just take a cab to his apartment. I grabbed my bag and backpack then left the train, walking toward the exit. As soon as I passed through the gates, I saw Travis there waiting for me, holding a bouquet of a dozen red roses. “You are such a romantic,” I said, as I walked over to give him a huge hug.

“I’m trying to impress the man I love,” he said.

“I don’t know if he’s impressed, but I sure am,” I joked. He took my bag while I carried my roses and my backpack. As soon as we walked out of the station he led me up to a Mercedes limo with totally blacked out windows. Just before we got into the car, he stared across the street and froze. I followed his gaze and saw a cute short dude with brown hair that was styled almost in a buzz cut. I was really shocked when Travis got ready to go running after the guy, but a van drove by us and blocked our view, then when it passed that dude was gone. “Are you alright?” I asked him.

“Hop in,” he said, then opened the door to the car and got in after I did.

“Who was that dude?” I asked and felt myself starting to get jealous.

“You remember how I told you I hooked up with a guy on Tuesday?” he asked. I nodded. “That’s him.”

“Kind of weird that you ran into him at the train station,” I said, wondering what the deal was.

He ignored my comment. “I went out with Chris Mendoza and met this guy at a bar. We had a great time talking and flirting, and he seemed like he’d be fun, so I brought him home.”

“That sounds like a normal sequence of events,” I said, smiling at him. I was trying to make this lighthearted, because I wanted him to be able to relax and talk to me about guys he was with, but his tension levels were so high it was impossible to joke about it.

“We got back to my place, stripped off our clothes, then when I went to suck his dick, he smelled nasty,” he said, wrinkling up his nose. “He seemed annoyed that I didn’t blow him longer and that I didn’t rim him at all, but there was no way I could handle that.”

“Dude, that sucks,” I said. “Good hygiene is important.”

“No shit,” he said. “So I fucked him, and it was okay, then I talked him into taking a shower.”

“Smart move,” I said.

“Yeah, it would have been, but even after the shower he still smelled rank,” Travis said, shaking his head.

“I would take that as a sign that I’m not compatible with a dude,” I said.

“Yeah, I got that,” he said. “He wanted to go for another round, but I just couldn’t. There was something about him that weirded me out.”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“He asked me if he could spend the night, and I told him that wasn’t an option,” he said. “He really started putting the pressure on me, begging me, and actually started crying when I refused to let him stay.”

“Dude, I am so sorry,” I said, and put my arm around him. “How did you get him to leave?”

“I threatened to call security, and actually picked up the phone to do it, then he caved,” Travis said. “He called me an asshole, then he left, slamming the door behind him.”

“Shit,” I said.

“I went ahead and called security. I told them to make sure he left the building and to make sure he couldn’t come back,” he said.

“No wonder you were freaked out when you saw him,” I said.

“That was not the only time I’ve seen him,” Travis said.

“He’s stalking you?” I asked, horrified. He nodded.

“Every fucking day since I threw him out, I’ve seen him,” Travis said. I hadn’t seen him this uptight since he was planning to run away because his father was trying to kill him. “I’ll get this weird feeling like I’m being watched, then I’ll look around and spot him.”

“I’d be tempted to beat the shit out of him,” I said.

“I would love to do that, but he’s always too far away for me to go after him,” Travis said. “It’s like it was just now. I’ll see him, then before I can do anything, he vanishes.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Travis said.

“Dude, you fucked this guy and you didn’t even ask him his name?” I asked, trying to joke and work him out of his bad mood. “How fucking slutty is that.”

“I didn’t ask him, and he didn’t tell me,” Travis said seriously, refusing to allow my teasing to lighten things up. This was really bothering him.

“Does Chris know this guy?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He’d never seen him. He even gave me props for scooping up the new guy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I asked him. He gave me a dirty look, like I was trying to blame him for something. “You seemed upset when we talked on the phone this week and I was worried about you.” He smiled slightly and squeezed my hand.

“When it first happened, I thought it was a coincidence,” he said. “Then when I saw him again, I kind of blocked it out, pretending like it wasn’t happening. I was just hoping it would end. It didn’t start to really freak me out until I saw him this morning.”

“You spotted him this morning too?” I asked.

“I did,” he said.

“Travis, this is a big deal,” I said seriously. “You need to get some security to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need security. I could kick that dude’s ass all over the place,” he said. “I’m not afraid of him. He’s just annoying me.”

“Alright, I get that, but you’re assuming it would be a fair fight,” I said. “He could have a gun or a knife.”

“He didn’t have one the night he came to my apartment,” he said.

“He can’t get one?” I asked. His lack of concern about the risk this guy presented was starting to irritate me.

“Can we just not think about this now?” he asked, all but pleading. This was taking a toll on him, and I could sense that he just wanted to forget it. He needed to give his psyche a rest. He changed his tone and smiled at me. “I’m really happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too,” I said, and gave him a loving kiss. “Even if you have acquired a stalker.”

“Fuck you,” he said, then smiled at me. The limo pulled up to a sleek building on the east side of Riverside Boulevard. We got out and walked up to the entrance but I paused and turned back to look at the view. I gazed first at a park, then let my eyes flow beyond that to the Hudson River. On the other side of the river was New Jersey, and that reminded me of Hank and my mother, and started to prompt some bad memories of 9-11. I hastily turned away and walked into the building. Travis greeted the doorman, then escorted me into the elevator.

“What made you decide to live here?” I asked, as the elevator began to climb.

“The studio where Sunset Valley is filmed is basically around the corner,” he said. “No subway, no limo, just legs.” I chuckled at that. The elevator doors opened and he led me down the hall and stopped in front of his apartment. He unlocked the door then pushed it open, letting me enter before he did. I strolled in with him right behind me, then both of us froze, staring at this place that was completely trashed.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked.

“Holy shit!” Travis exclaimed. It looked like the stuff in every drawer in the kitchen had been emptied onto the countertops or the floor as if they’d just been thrown around, while even appliances like the coffee maker and the toaster had been tossed across the room. I looked at the bar stools and the cushy leather seating pad was cut in a frenetic way.

“Fuck,” I said, staring at it in amazement.

“Someone totally fucked up my apartment,” he yelled, his voice filled with rage. “Look at this! They fucking carved into the leather couch! They ripped open that chair! They smashed the table! What the fuck?!”

“It’s completely messed up,” I agreed. He was enraged, while I was kind of in a daze.

“Jesus Christ!” he shouted in frustration. He walked over and punched a wall. “Fuck!”

“Hey,” I said, making him focus on me. “Let’s not ruin it any more than it already has been.” He was so pissed off his nose was flaring and his fists were balled up, but my words seemed to calm him a bit.

“It’s pretty much destroyed,” he said.

“Do you think the dude who’s stalking you did this?”

“Yeah,” Travis said. “If he’s stalking me, it makes sense that he’d pull something like this.”

“He was short and kind of scrawny,” I said, my way of questioning if he was big enough to cause all this damage. Shit, furniture had been totally pushed over or tossed around the room.

“He was strong in a wiry kind of way,” Travis said, thinking about it. “He could have done this.” His anger faded and he was in a daze just like I was.

“What’s in there?” I asked, gesturing at an open door that probably led to the bedroom. His eyes flew open and the daze vanished as he charged into his room. It was just as messed up as the kitchen and the living room. The bedding was torn up and tossed into a corner, and the mattress had been cut open. All of this was topped off by a big kitchen knife stabbed into the right side of the bed, in the same place where Travis usually slept. “This is fucking scary.”

He saw a drawer lying on the floor and walked over to it. “All of my jewelry is gone, and so is my passport.”

“Jewelry? What was in here?” That was alarming, because he had a couple of watches that were worth more than $25 million. I hoped that dude didn’t steal those.

“The Cartier watch I wore to fancy events like the one tomorrow,” he said. He was so dejected my heart went out to him. “My cufflinks and studs are gone too.” They weren’t as fancy as the ones my dad had, but they were super slick and made with 24 karat gold.

“Travis, all of this shit can be replaced,” I said supportively. “We’ll go shopping. It will be fun.”

He gave me a dubious look. “Right.”

“What about your clothes?” I asked. We strode into his walk-in closet and found that whoever had done this had taken a knife and slashed at his garments. They weren’t all jacked up, but a lot of them were. “You are going to have a hard time pulling together something for tomorrow.”

“No shit,” he said, then started rummaging through his wardrobe. He smiled when he got to one of the suits we’d bought him in Italy, reached into the jacket pocket and pulled out a Breguet watch. “At least they didn’t get this one.”

“Why was your watch in there?” I asked.

“I went out to some event and put it in there when I was walking down the street on my way back,” he said. “I didn’t want to tempt a mugger.”

“Turned out to be a damned good idea,” I said. We looked around at all the devastation, feeling totally violated. I got serious and looked at him. We need to call the cops.”

“Why would we do that?” he asked, then started shaking his head. “I can’t call the cops. I’ll have to admit that I brought some dude back here and fucked him. I cannot have that out there in the public record.”

“Travis, there’s a fucking knife stabbed into the bed where you normally sleep,” I said emphatically. “You are not safe here.”

“You are overreacting,” he insisted. “Whoever did this just wanted money.”

“No they didn’t,” I argued. “The slashed clothes, the upholstery that’s torn apart, the mattress that is stabbed, none of that is about money. That guy is a psycho!”

“Great,” he said. “Just great. So I call the cops, and they report it. Nobody gives a shit, nobody notices, but then Palisades becomes a hit. Suddenly people are all into my shit, this comes out, and it’s out there that I took some random twink home and fucked him. Then the career I had just started to build gets blown away.”

“I see your point,” I said, even though I didn’t agree with him. If his life was on the line, none of the rest of his career shit mattered at all. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“You can call your lawyer or I can call Sean and get some advice on how to handle this, alright?” I asked. “Based on what he says, we can bring in a private security firm to make sure you’re safe.”

He was about to argue but he caved grudgingly. “Alright.”

“And you need to move,” I insisted.

“I like it here,” he objected. “If I have security, I’ll be fine.”

“Move next door, but just get out of this building,” I said.

“I need to think about this,” he said, and was completely discombobulated.

I moved closer to him, put my hands on his shoulders, then slid them up and behind his neck and pulled his head towards me. Our lips met in a gentle but meaningful kiss, one that seemed to have the superpower to dissipate the panic we’d been dealing with and calm us down. “Call your lawyer. I’m going to call Jake.”

“Okay,” he said, and wandered back into the living room. I picked up one of the chairs and flipped it over so I could sit on it, then dialed Jake.

“Hey there!” he said happily. “How are you doing?” I felt bad that it was Friday and he was all happy and upbeat, but I was going to have to kill his buzz.

“Shitty,” I answered.

“What happened?” he asked, the playfulness and joy now completely removed from his voice.

“Travis fucked some guy on Tuesday and now the dude is stalking him,” I said, and explained that whole deal.

“That is really dangerous,” he said firmly. “We have to get him to a safe place and make sure he has a guard with him, or at least that he’s tailed so we can try to catch this guy.”

“Somewhere safe is going to be a big problem,” I said. “We got back to his apartment and it’s totally trashed.”

“What?” he asked, totally freaking out.

“Someone has taken a knife and cut up the upholstery and some of Travis’s clothes,” I explained. “They stole his passport and some expensive jewelry, and carved up his mattress.”

“Christ!” he exclaimed.

“The scariest thing of all is that on the right side of the bed, which is where Travis sleeps, someone stabbed a huge kitchen knife into the mattress,” I said.

“Okay, this is not something he can ignore,” Jake said.

“I know,” I agreed. “I told him that, and I told him we should call the cops, but he doesn’t want to.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because if it gets out that he fucked a twink who became his stalker, that could mess up his career,” I said.

“Better to be alive without a career than dead with one,” he said. I totally agreed with him. “Let me talk to Travis about this.”

“He’s on the phone with his lawyer,” I said.

“Can you just hand him your phone?” Jake asked rudely. I ignored his attitude, assuming it was a result of how upset he was as.

I walked up to Travis. He turned away from me to indicate he was in the middle of a conversation, but I tapped his back to get his attention. “I told Jake you were on the phone with your lawyer but he demanded that I give you my phone so he can talk to you.”

“Fine,” Travis said as he exhaled. He took my phone while I wandered around his apartment. I got my camera out to take pictures of the devastation, and as I took them, I could see why Travis had picked this place. It was small but had everything he would need. I decided that the fact that he hadn’t rented a more opulent apartment was a big sign about how seriously he was taking his acting career. That was his focus, not his comfort. “Hey,” Travis said loudly to get my attention.

“What?” I asked as I walked over to him.

“Here’s your phone,” he said, then he re-immersed himself in his conversation. I grabbed it and took a few minutes to call Grand and let him know what was going on. By the time that conversation was over, Travis had ended his call.

“So what’s up?” I asked.

“They want me to get out of here,” Travis said.

“For how long?” I asked.

“For the weekend,” he said.

“Cool,” I said smiling. “Let’s go to California!”

“Gnarly!” he said, emphasizing his surfer accent and cracking me up.

“I’ll charter a plane and we’ll leave now,” I said. “We can go to Escorial and see everyone, then we can head to Santa Cruz.”

“Make your call,” he said, smiling, then he went through his clothes to grab enough for the weekend. I called Teterboro and managed to book a charter, then made a call to get the limo as well. After I’d accomplished that, I walked over to the window and looked out. There, standing in the park across the street, was the stalker. I was lucky because my camera was right next to me, so I grabbed it and started taking pictures of him.

“Travis!” I shouted.

He came over to the window. “What?”

“That’s him, right?” I asked. We watched him while he stared at us, completely focused on this apartment window. He locked his eyes on us, then gave us an evil smile.

“That’s him,” Travis confirmed. The stalker walked across the street toward the apartment building and then he was gone. “It’s like he can just vanish into thin air.”

“That is fucked up,” I said. “This dude knows what he’s doing.”

“Great,” Travis said. We grabbed our stuff and were about to leave when I saw that there was a note stuck to the door. We had missed that when we came in because it was behind us. I walked over and read it out loud: “Sorry I missed you. I’ll make sure I catch you next time.”

“Shit,” Travis said.

“This is nuts!” I exclaimed. “This dude just threatened you!” I pulled out my camera and took a picture of the note.

“Come on,” Travis said, and led us out of the apartment.

We walked out of the building and found a Mercedes limo that could have been the same one that picked us up at the train station. The driver got out and walked over to open the door for us. “Thanks,” I said, as I got in. Travis followed me and the guy shut the door.

He was walking around the back of the car to go get in the driver’s seat, when suddenly the passenger door opened up. “Hey, get out of there!” the driver yelled.

I looked up to see the stalker’s smirking face. “Did you miss me?” he asked in a snarky way, then he took off running. Travis made to get out and chase him, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Let me go get that asshole,” he shouted at me. “What are you doing?”

“That dude is dangerous,” I said. “If you go off after him, something bad will probably happen to you.”

“I am not a coward!” he said, his raging eyes almost thrusting into mine.

“I know you’re not,” I said calmly. “I’ve seen you be extremely brave. But being brave doesn’t mean being stupid.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” the driver said.

“It’s fine,” I said, then put up the privacy screen.

“I could have caught him!” Travis yelled.

“Do not yell at me,” I said severely, then just stared at him until he calmed down. “Did you see how he ran off? He is faster than you, and he is faster than me.”

“I don’t think he’s faster than me,” Travis grumbled.

“Travis, you saw what he did to your apartment,” I said. “He’s already been in your face four times today. He’s fucking insane, and that means he’s dangerous. It’s not cowardly to avoid him.”

“I think it is,” he argued dogmatically.

“Because he is focused on stalking you and we haven’t done anything about it until now, he has the advantage. He can plan out what he’s going to do. He’s setting up an ambush,” I said. “If you go charging off into it, you’ll just set yourself up for defeat.”

“So what do I do?” he asked.

“You set up a plan to ambush him instead,” I said.

Copyright © 2024 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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