Trash Polka - 17. Chapter 17

Tapping at the tablet, I took the customer’s card. He was talking, smiling at me and thanking me for the tribal band curling around his bicep. I smiled and tried to put on my, “normal, well-adjusted human” mask. It seemed to fool him, and I watched him wave before disappearing out the front door. Cameron wasn’t at the front, so I assumed he was in the tiny room we used just for piercings. There was the soothing buzzing coming from the back of the shop that let me know Lukas was working.

I watched life pass by the shop. Cars and people headed to unknown destinations. A couple wrapped up in each other as they passed. The girl’s face was upturned and she beamed at the man like he’d hung the stars. I sighed as I turned away to return to my room. There was a very real possibility that I would never experience love like that. It was okay. I’d come to terms with it, but that didn’t mean I’d never get some kind of love. Maybe it just wouldn’t be the type I’d expected. There were different kinds. The problem was I was having a very “down” day. Which meant that while humans were capable of several kinds of love, I was convinced I’d never deserve any of them.

I swallowed hard and scrunched my nose. I should’ve called in. If I was going to be this way all day, what was the point in leaving the apartment? I cleaned my area slowly while I stewed in self-loathing and self-pity. There were days where I’d do anything to never feel this way again. We didn’t talk about those days. With anyone. Not even Alec. Not one person in my life knew how close to the edge I’d been. On several occasions.

My phone vibrated on my desk and I rubbed a hand down my face. I was so tired. Every interaction took parts of me and I was running out of things to give away today. Closing my eyes, I folded myself into the closest chair-the shittiest one. The metal chair meant for guests. It’d been three weeks since the last time I’d seen Kenji and I was starting to scare myself. I wasn’t blind. I knew I’d been putting my eggs all in one basket. I’d been relying far too heavily on the scenes to quiet my mind.

I had continued my research about things that may help but then I’d put it all to the side because I was scared. My mind loved to go back to ten-year-old River, cowering in the room they used for Sunday School at my church. It didn’t matter what had caused it. All the other boys saw was that I was scrawny and crying. Children are perceptive little beasts that use anything they learn to sharpen their teeth for when they finally rip into you. Boys didn’t cry. They didn’t break down. You powered through. That’s what a man would do and I was the only “man” in my household. Albeit a piss poor excuse for one. Which made sense right? I came from a man who made a commitment and made a kid and then fucked off to parts unknown.

[K: I should be in town this weekend.]

Here I was, holding all my damn eggs and ready to chuck them in Kenji’s basket. Christ, how did normal people cope? Did they do it differently? As children had they been given a special book that I had missed out on? Was it having both parents? A healthy childhood? Is that where they learned to weather the storm or were we all just out here flailing, hoping our fingers connected with an edge to hang onto?

[R: Good for you.]

[K: It’s fine if you don’t want to arrange something.]

[R: Sure. I bet it’s all sorts of fine for you. You probably wouldn’t even notice.]

It wasn’t his fault, and I was growing even more frustrated with myself. Kenji wasn’t the reason I thought the way I did. He wasn’t the reason I hadn’t been able to trust anyone with every part of myself. He was just a guy who saw something he liked or wanted and he’d gone after it. It could be admired really. So what if he didn’t know the touches after scenes broke me into tiny pieces. That was not even mentioning the kiss. I tried not to dwell on it. Dwelling would lead to nothing good. We weren't supposed to kiss and I had crossed a line. I'm sure he'd just taken pity on me or something. I was a mess after all. I’m sure at this point I was leaving plenty behind when I left the hotels. Sprinkling my fractured trauma in my wake for the unsuspecting housekeeper.

My phone was ringing now. I frowned down at it. I was sassy with him all the time. This wasn’t new, but this reaction was different for him. We very rarely called each other during the day.

“H-hello?”

“What’s the issue?”

“What?”

“Your texts are strange. Context through text is hard but you seem upset.”

“Because I don’t want to meet up? Calm down.”

“Your tone of voice and the words you’re choosing are leading me to believe that I’m not the one who needs to calm down. You are a brat normally, but you are simply being rude.”

“What do you care?”

“River, this is an unusual relationship, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. Quite the opposite. This has been a very different dynamic for me.”

“Listen, I’m at work. I have to go.”

His voice register dropped and my back straightened, “River. What is wrong?”

I rubbed at the back of my neck and stared at my work on the wall, “I’m having a bad day…mentally.”

I will never know what forced the words into the chamber of my mouth, through my teeth, then out through my lips. I didn’t know why I was telling him this. No matter what we had going on, we’d made it clear that this was a no-strings-attached arrangement. Here I was, though, threading strings between us.

The normal office noise that was always in the background of his calls quieted, “Has this been bad for you mentally? You and I?”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks Kenji.”

“Time is irrelevant. If you’re not okay…this dynamic could be harmful.”

“Yeah, you bruised my asscheeks and hips.”

“Enough. Yes or no. Are you okay to continue this?” That damn voice again. The one he used when we were alone.

“I need it. I need someone to tell me what to do. I need someone to take over. Because I c-can-“

“Shh,” There was some rustling and then his voice was softer, “Are you at work?”

“Yeah.”

My thoughts were a horrible spiral of the most negative things I could drag up from the recesses of my mind. Being pathetic was one thing. Being aware and unable to stop yourself from being pathetic was worse. Like a car crash you couldn’t look away from.

“Close your door. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.”

I leaned over, pushing it closed. Once the door made an audible click sound, Kenji spoke again, “Good. Breathe for me. Slow. Match mine. Can you hear it?”

“Why are you doing this for me? We’re not-“

“River, do what I told you to do. You’re so good at it. Aren’t you?”

I nodded and started to become aware of the harsh pants leaving me. He was exaggerating his breathing so I had something to replicate. It was so much slower than mine. How was I supposed to get mine to sound like that? I struggled to match it and his voice reached me again,” Stop thinking. You don’t need to. I’ll do it for you. Just breathe. Understand?”

I made some kind of affirmative noise and my brain shut off. There was only the breathing coming down the line and my own slowing to match. I leaned forward, resting my head against my knees and ignoring the liquid frustration that slid from my eyes. Only when my breathing was back to normal and I wasn’t trying to tilt into a meltdown, did I get to hear his voice again.

“You did so well. You’re always perfect.”

“I feel like I’ve been attacked by a sadistic housewife with a steel rolling pin.”

He chuckled softly, “How many appointments do you have today?”

“None. I’m done with what I had scheduled.”

“That’s good. You need to go home River.”

“I can’t just leave.”

“With what you’ve mentioned about Lukas, I doubt he’d mind.”

I don’t know why it shook me so much that he remembered Luke’s name. I hadn’t thought he’d really been listening when I rambled to fill what I saw as awkward silences after we’d done a scene. He’d started staying longer, listening when I talked at him. It had succeeded in blurring the lines further. It poked at something inside me. Something inside that tried to convince my brain that he cared about me as more than just a sex partner. My brain couldn’t completely fight it off while we sat with the fact that he’d just talked me down.

“I don’t think I should.”

“I never told you to start thinking, River. Stop it. We’re going to hang up. You’re going to open the door. Then you’re going to tell Lukas you’re going to go home.”

“I’m really excited to tell him I’ve having panic attacks at work now.”

“I never told you to tell him that. If you don’t want him to know, tell him you’re not feeling well.” He was quiet for a moment. Waiting for me to agree while I tried to get myself to let him. To let him tell me what to do outside of sex. To let him decide things for me in my actual life.

“Okay.”

“Good River. Remember what I said. Step by step. Then you will text me when you get home.”

“Okay.” I worried my lower lip with my teeth and let out a breath, “Can I call you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to hang up and do…that then.”

“Good.”

The call disconnected and I focused on his voice as I stood and gathered my things, slinging a jacket over my shoulders. I patted my pocket and glanced down at my phone. Several texts came in. It was Kenji breaking down every step between here and home. It settled my nerves a little as I opened the door. I was in a daze as I walked to the back. Lukas was tattooing the side of a guy’s neck and he looked up at me with a smile. It dropped fast after he saw whatever my face was doing. We'd not talked much since I'd opened up to him and I'm positive this was going to worry him.

“I don’t feel well. I’m going to dip. I don’t have any appointments.”

“Shit, alright man. Need anything?”

“I’m good.” I threw over my shoulder as I made my way to the front, “Cam, I don’t feel good. Bye.”

I waited for a snappy comment and when I didn’t get one, I turned to look at him. Cameron’s eyes were wide for a moment and then narrowed as he took me in. His fingers worked slowly through his hair, braiding it as he studied me, “You let us know if we need to pick you up anything.”

I wanted to analyze his very un-Cameron response but I was tired and I wanted to be home. Plus, that wasn’t in the very clear instructions that Kenji had given me. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be thinking again. I did need to get home, but that shouldn’t take much brain power.

I’d barely made it through the door when I had my phone raised to my ear. I listened to it dial as I took off my shoes. I swallowed hard when it kept ringing and then went to a very dry voicemail. Squeezing my eyes closed, I tried to reason with myself after I hung up. Kenji was a busy man. He was at work and I’d already interrupted him once. I was about to set my phone down when it started ringing.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of something. You’ve made it home I assume.”

“Yes.”

“Are you tired?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it a hunch. Wash your face, change, and get in bed.”

I automatically moved to obey, feeling like a child when I asked quietly, “Will you stay on the phone?”

“I have to take care of some things, but I won’t hang up. You may not hear me for a moment.”

I got ready for bed. Trading in all my flashy clothing that was another defense against the rest of humanity for something softer. Then my contacts came out and I slipped my glasses on. The finishing touch was putting my hair up in an awkward ponytail on top of my face to keep it out of my eyes. Kenji providing quiet encouragement sporadically. He’d been quiet for a few minutes when I finally crawled under the covers and pulled them up to my chin.

“I’m back.” He said quietly.

“I did what you said.”

“Of course you did. You always carry out instructions perfectly.” His voice switched abruptly from the soft prideful tone I was used to after a scene to something I didn’t recognize, “Are you okay to be alone?”

“Duh, I’m alone all the time.” I scoffed and curled into my blankets.

“I don’t think your snappy comeback was as successful as you think.”

“Listen, I’m used to handling things on my own. I don’t need someone to hold my hand.”

He was quiet for a moment and then I heard footsteps, “Rest and text me your address.”

To be honest, I’m not sure my brain knew how to process what he’d just implied. I glanced around my room. At the book-lined shelves circling my room and the sporadically placed little knick-knacks. I pictured Kenji standing in my tiny main room. One of his immaculate suits in my small space packed full with more of my strange belongings and my eccentric design choices. That wasn’t even touching on all the paint supplies sprinkled throughout the apartment. I snapped myself out of my thoughts when I tried to picture him in my postage stamp-sized outdated kitchen.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I heard the call end and I took a moment to stare down at my cellphone. No way was this happening. I then proceeded to do the exact opposite of what he told me to do: rest. I threw my blankets off and hopped up from the bed. I had no idea how long it would take him to get here. Surely it would be enough time to find new living arrangements and completely hide how I lived my life? Move to another country entirely and change my name? My hand smacked to the elastic holding my hair up and I snatched it away, my bangs falling into my face. My phone vibrated and I glared down at it. Somehow this entire debacle was now its fault.

[K: Address.]

I responded quickly and then wondered why after I’d sent the message. I could have just ignored him and then this panic wouldn’t have to happen. I’d have to think about that later, though. I had a mental breakdown to work through while I was scurrying around my apartment. Luckily, I was a neat-ish person. Other than some cups of paint water and a few dirty dishes, there wasn’t really much to clean up.

It was everything I couldn’t “clean up” that was the issue. Again, it was the personal effects, the chaotic number of books, the frankly crazy looking wall-sized calendar. It occurred to me then, the things I was most embarrassed for Kenji to see were me. The real me. Not the one in the pictures online. Not the River that met him at fancy hotels in carefully curated outfits and eyeliner. I was terrified that this person I…had a fascination with was going to see who I was. The reality of my realization was both devastating and unsurprising. How long had I been trying to hide who I was? My audience had changed over time, but the performance hadn’t in roughly 25 years.

I was sweating now but then the anxiety took hold and I found myself frozen in place. I was overwhelmed and had overstimulated myself. My brain decided the best course of action was just to shut down completely. My thoughts ran away with my sanity, and I could feel my eyes widen as I stared at nothing in particular. Fantastic. Now nothing would get done aside from pulling my stupid hair out of the strange ponytail. I still looked homeless, and my apartment was tiny and weird. Kind of like how I felt.

I only regained control of major motor function when someone knocked on my door. How long had it been? There was no way enough time had passed for him to travel any amount of distance. How long had I been a River statue in the middle of my home? Stumbling to the door, I tried to pull together some semblance of sanity before I reluctantly opened it.

Kenji looked tired. That was what I noticed first. His tie was pulled a bit loose and there were dark circles under his eyes. Today’s suit was a very creative black with a white shirt. I swallowed as his eyes swept first down my person and then up it. It was mortifying standing in front of someone dressed the way he was in loose sweatpants, a ratty sweatshirt from college, thick black glasses, and messy hair. Though, there was nothing I could do now.

I tried to speak but was forced into shocked silence when a grin slowly spread on his face. It was something I had noticed after the first few times we met. Kenji didn’t really smile unless he had the upper hand when we were alone. My thoughts paused. I guess that was the exact situation we were in right now. It made sense.

“I wasn’t expecting company.” I managed to squeak out.

“Obviously not. I invited myself over.”

I watched numbly as he slid past me, strolling into the apartment as he pulled off his suit jacket. He rested it on the back of my hand-me-down couch and my stomach sank as he looked around. To distract myself, I closed the door and pretended to check the locks. They locked automatically. When I turned around, I had a small moment of panic. He was gone.

Internally talking myself down, I reasoned that the apartment was small and there were only so many places he could’ve gone. After thirty seconds of looking, I found him in the kitchen. He had my fridge door open and was leaning down as he looked inside. His expression was stoney as he closed the fridge door and surveyed the freezer as well.

I grew defensive when he turned to look at me and shrunk down a little on myself, “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, “To be honest, I was unaware you could buy that many frozen burritos in one package.”

“They’re quick and…edible.”

“Mm.” He said. I narrowed my eyes as I detected a hint of disapproval.

“Not all of us own nightclubs.” I snapped.

He stepped forward and I smashed myself against the kitchen counter to let him by. He paused in front of me and leaned a bit closer, “You have no real food in that refrigerator. That’s an issue.”

He walked out of the room and I felt a little violated as he poked his head into my bedroom. He stood in the doorway for a few minutes before he moved onto the guest room. Which was my closet/office/den of ADHD chaos. I convinced myself to follow him finally and frowned as I watched his eyes take in the blocked monstrosity that was my calendar.

“This is…”

“Psychotic?” I interrupted, trying to bite back the panic. No one saw this side of me. Alec had seen the calendar but it’d gotten significantly worse recently. As my mental health had steadily deteriorated. Other than him and maybe Auggie, I tried to keep people out of this room. Kenji had walked around my most private space in a way that my close friends weren’t allowed. I wanted to feel violated but part of me was strangely calm. That part was okay with him walking in and taking stock. It was probably the kinky, pathetic part that liked when he took over.

He was frowning at me and I struggled to remain where I was when he approached me, “There’s nothing wrong with it. There’s nothing wrong with where you live either.”

“Says the guy who lives in a mansion probably.”

His head tilted to the side as his expression became a bit more guarded, “Something you work hard for is not something to be ashamed of. I was born into my lifestyle. You built your life with your own hands.”

“I really wish I was better at building.”

He shook his head and started unbuttoning his shirt. I stared for a moment, transfixed, until my brain kicked into gear, “What’re you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed. I don’t think you should be alone.” He stripped the shirt off and his socks went next.

I lost the ability to form rational thoughts again about the time he was down to just black boxer briefs and motioned to my bed, “I’m going to actually ask now. Is this okay?”

I nodded jerkily as I crawled onto my bed. He stayed standing and raised an eyebrow at me, “I need a verbal answer, River.”

“Yes. It’s fine.”

He nodded and crawled in after me. He laid on his back and stretched his arm out. Scooting over, I rested my head on his shoulder and tried not to think about how wild this was. The blanket came up and I snuggled into it and him, forcing my eyes closed.

“I don’t think this was covered in the contract.” I mumbled.

“Then don’t bring it up. Uncharted territory it is.”