Hunger CityA Story by Mikael Kurtis Really early thing I've wrote for a contest in one of those stupid smutty magazines my roommate enjoys. Didn't win, but it did get my foot in the door with that group when they were still around.
Warning
This Story is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.
I live in Hunger City and I sell my body.
I live in Hunger City because it’s the only city I can live in. I don’t know why, but it’s just what I used to be told when grandpa was alive. He told me there were many cities people lived in, but Wormwood fell from the sky and poisoned the planet, killing many people including my parents. Hunger City is the only place left near a clean source of water and fresh air. I’ve been told it’s on a piece of land called South America, but I don’t know what that is.
I sell my body because it’s the only thing I have to make money. Those with wisdom sell their wisdom but I don’t have wisdom. Those with talent sell their talent but I don’t have talent. Since I have neither, I sell my body. I’d never survive in this city if I didn’t. I’m not ashamed, everyone in this dump of a neighborhood is doing it. It’s what I’ve been doing since grandpa died two years ago.
My neighbor Beat is the one who helped me attract customers. I always wondered how he managed to get by without support, he wasn’t any older than me.
“Hey Remy.”
Beat always found a way into my small one-room apartment, even when the door was locked from the inside. I stopped asking him how when all he’d reply was “magic”.
“How goes the clients today?
It’s my day off I tell him, sitting nude at the window ceil, barely covered by a blanket. I’ve been seeing clients for two weeks straight. I don’t remember the last time I’ve worn clothes to tell you the truth.
“Did you make enough money for this month’s rent already?”
Something like that. He was still short thirty dollars. I had the cash but to help him out but…
“You’re starting to steal all my customers, you sly bastard!” he says as he sits next to me. I notice he got a haircut, his strawberry blonde hair was probably two inches at most at the top now. My hair is getting shaggy, but nothing too bad. Looks matter in our business.
Beat places his hand on mine, probably thinking nothing of it and begins telling me about some of his customers. I look back outside as he continues talking and stare into the yellow ball of light in the sky, hoping I’m not blushing.
The sky is bright, this place is warm. The friendship formed through death is turning into a love I’ve never felt before.
He seems completely unaware.
Why don’t we just move in together and split the rent? I wish I had the nerve to ask him that. Really I don’t want to move in to split the rent, I just want to be closer with him. The words start to come to my mouth when a knocking comes at my door. I don’t remember booking any appointments for today.
Beat goes to open it for me. “Karma Company” he tells the tall stranger. I don’t want a client today, I’m tired.
“Is Remy in?” he asks.
Beat pauses for awhile. “No, he’s out for the day.”
“How much are you?”
“30 dollars, please.”
“What a gyp. You’re not worth it.” The man says with a angry tone as we walks off. I don’t know what to say to Beat. He tries to look cheerful but I can tell that damaged his ego. We both know I’m the popular choice with the clients. How else would I have so much spare cash?
Thank you for bluffing for me, I tell him. “No problem, bud!” he says with a weary smile. I stare at the box under my mattress with my spare cash. Do I really want to go through with this? I feel sick.
“What are you doing?” Beat asks me as I hold out three green pieces of paper with 10’s written on them. I’m buying you for the night I tell him. He looks stunned for a moment. I think I should of just gave him the cash and make him pay it back later.
“Why would you want to buy me?” he asks, his smile gone. Because I want to. I love you. You’re everything I’m not. Cute. Outgoing. Fun. I’m just a waste that somehow got lucky in the last two years.
I don’t tell him that.
He slowly takes the money and puts it into his shorts pocket and walks to the bed with me. We both sit down on it and stare at the floor. We don’t know what we’re doing, we never instigate the first move. We leave that up to the customers. I’m starting to feel stupid. Friends don’t do this. But I want to be more than a friend. Has he ever wanted to be more than a friend?
Suddenly on a whim, he grabs my head and nearly tears it off we lock each other’s lips together and we fall onto the bed. I wish this moment would be immortalized, nothing is better. I feel closer to God.
We run each other’s hands all over our bodies, and only stop kissing to take off his shirt. He removes his shorts and throws them off the bed and I roll on top of him. He tells me that these are his purest feelings as I work my lips down his chest. I make him feel good for awhile before I come back up and we connect lips again. I get between his legs and we reach enlightenment together. He loves the pain for the first time.
Hours pass and we eventually fall asleep on each other. Tomorrows another day of work. © 2009 Mikael Kurtis
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Added on May 18, 2009 Last Updated on October 29, 2009 Author
Mikael KurtisWAAboutI am government secretary for one of our beloved military groups that involves a lot of water born back in 1988 and self proclaimed metal-head. All my dumb stories generally have the same themes (u.. [more]Writing
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