It's Who You Know Ch. 01

She offered to get me in on it, too. I declined. For the first time in my life, I wanted to try strike it out on my own, not following Zack's footsteps.

I didn't do very well.

For fuck sake. I was the definition of a walking train wreck.

I had picked up all these contacts, all these friends, all this baggage, since I was 17. I was trying to do what Zack had done, and cut them from my life, but I didn't even know where to begin. Once upon a time I couldn't keep friends around. Now, I wanted them gone.

I had my own startup for a while. Gathered up some contacts and made it happen. Computer repairs. Don't laugh. It was actually going well for a year and it went over my head when it fell apart. Probably because I was too drunk half the time to be a good manager.

By the time I was 25 I decided I was too old for the party life. I needed to move on. Settle down. Whatever it is that people do. But my friends were always hitting up my phone. Out to the clubs. Sometimes down to the gay bars. Anywhere and everywhere. More liquor. Yes, more. Who's the driver tonight? Fuck knows. Oh. It was me. Oopsie daisy I'm fucking pissed. Can I crash on your couch?

I like how there seem to be turning points where you know something's gone too far. Or is it just me? Am I so bad at life that only the hard slaps in the face get through to me?

Daniel did it to me. He was one of my university flings, probably the longest relationship I'd had, beating the main girlfriend of that time. But he was more on-and-off than her. He came crawling back to me every time he wanted sex, and likewise, I went crawling back to him. Dysfunctional.

He was blonde, a little shorter than me, a little smaller than me in about every way. If ever there was a gay 'still sleeping with women to conform to society pressures', then it was him.

He hit me up to go out with an old circle of mates. He'd had another bad breakup, because he wouldn't admit to himself that he didn't prefer girls. I was foolish enough to believe him, that he just wanted to talk, catch up, maybe get some life advice.

I drove down there because I wasn't intending on going over one or two drinks. This particular group of mates were all straight, save for me and Dan. And they usually weren't overly wild, either. Most of them had commited relationships by then.

Daniel clung to me the whole night. Sure, he laughed around with the others, but it was obvious he wanted my attention. Kieran raised a brow at me.

"We're not getting back together," I said, when I finally had a moment alone.

"Could've fooled me."

Most of it is a blurry mess, and I'm not sure how I got so drunk. I think the little bastard spiked me. I wouldn't put it beyond him. All I know is that at some point it was 2am and I wanted to leave. When I got up and tried to walk, I fell over. They howled with laughter, cried my name.

"Tyler!"

Yes, that was me. Tyler's drunk as fuck and doing stupid things again. Tyler's getting older and handling his liquor even worse than before.

I wish it hadn't been so funny. I wish they had noticed that I hadn't actually drank enough to be in that state. I wish Kieran had done something when Daniel started taking me away.

I remember trying to get to my car while Dan laughed, his arm tight around my waist. "There's no way you're driving. Where's your keys? Want me to drive you?"

"No," I said. It was a new sports car. It was shiny. And he'd been drinking, too.

"Come back to mine, then."

His apartment wasn't a long walk from the bar. He managed to get my sorry state all the way there. Not more than moments through the door, he started kissing me. I didn't want it. I didn't want him.

He pushed me down on the sofa and I couldn't do anything. I was in that horrible state, where I was aware of everything going on, but could barely control my own body. I was stronger than him. I knew I was. Why was I losing?

He always liked to be the dominant one. I don't think I ever topped with him. There were the sounds of belts coming undone and he wasn't listening to me as I said no. I didn't want to be raped. So I pulled him against me. Get it over with.

That faux strawberry smell. He always used scented lube, sometimes scented condoms. There was a long pause where he put one on. I should be thankful for that.

He took me from behind, pushing my stomach against the cushions. The sharp pain where he went in too hard and too fast, like always. Balls deep on the first thrust. My growls didn't stop him. He just went harder. I should have known there was something wrong with him the first time we ever fucked, when he did the same. No normal person wants to see someone they care about in pain like that. I don't care how rough you like your sex.

It's a wonder he didn't rip me apart. I had to put up with that sickly sweet, fake strawberry smell while he pounded my arse in his clumsy inebriated state. Strawberries are red. And red made me think of blood. It made everything worse.

I was just so glad I couldn't see him. If he had pinned me on my back, face over mine while he fucked me, I wouldn't have been able to handle it.

I got hard halfway through but I didn't come. Didn't care. Didn't want to.

He finally finished. I used to enjoy the sounds of his orgasm, but right then I wanted to rip off his balls with my bare hands. Had I the motor skills. He pressed his sweaty chest against my back, and kissed the nape of my neck.

"Come to bed."

"No."

Surprisingly, he didn't push it. Maybe it was the guttural hatred that came out in my voice. Maybe he didn't have the strength left to haul me around. He cleaned up a little then disappeared. I passed out soon after.

I woke up before him. I didn't go into his bedroom to do anything about it. Would it really make me feel better to punch him until he had no nose left? I didn't even know how to express my anger. I had become a fucking statistic. The only silver lining was that I wasn't as sore as I expected. That sickening smell, he had lubed me up good.

I gathered up my things and left to find my car, but not before I left him a text.

"You're a fucking dickhead."

He tried apologising with multiple replies later that day. I didn't respond to any. He would never earn my forgiveness.

One bridge burnt.

This was how Zack did it, right?

---

Darren

I remember Amelia's wedding, because I couldn't go. I was furious about it, but she assured me it was fine. Of course she'd be lost enough in the day to not notice the lack of my presence, but it meant something to me too, and it hurt to miss it.

When I should have been attending a celebration of life with my best friend, I was instead forced into attending a dreary celebration of death. An unfortunately timed death of a family member. The second of my cousins to an early grave. I argued and argued with my uncle for the funeral to be postponed, but had no luck. It was my fault the funeral was happening anyways.

It also seemed I was far behind everyone else in finally meeting Amelia's spouse. Maybe that was just to make up for seeing more than enough of him soon after.

She brought Zack before me and told me that he was in on the business. I was not asked, no. I was told. Such is her way. Luckily, I trusted her with all my heart. A few conversations with the man later, I trusted her more.

I might have had him making coffee for me the first couple of weeks. He didn't complain once. His loyalty and devotion shone through in a matter of days. I needed his straight forward thinking, his steady composure. He was someone in for the long haul, always. A colourful background brought in fresh ideas. Things I never would have thought of.

Amelia had an eye for talent. She found a diamond in the rough with Zack.

Now the pair of them brought Tyler before me. Was it physically possible to say no to their heartfelt vouches?

My answer was yes in five minutes. I'm pretty sure Amelia would be hiring him with or without my consent anyways, as she wanted him in her department. Maybe she just wanted me to declare my approval in front of him, to soothe some confidence issues I think the man had.

Should I be ashamed that I let the ordeal drag out for so long because I was enjoying the view?

Yes. I should. There's a special place in hell for people like me, afterall.

---

Tyler

Things had to start picking up at some point. I walked out of the clinic for my average six-monthly check-up, holding that piece of paper like my last ray of sunshine. Negative. Negative. Negative.

I hadn't fucked up beyond repair yet.

How old was I now? 27. Jesus Christ. Life was a blur since I left uni. A blur of one thing after another, like every step I took was setting off another pressure plate. A blur of treading water.

Water. I loved water. My shower became my only private thinking space. I could spend over an hour beneath that spray, letting it soothe my exhausted body. I loved the way wet skin looked. The way that natural oils meant an even sheen didn't last for long. How it collected into drops. Those drops, trickling down shoulders, arms, stomachs.

I hadn't been swimming in a while, I didn't feel so streamlined anymore. I had bulked up a bit, hitting the gym instead. It seemed a conventionally masculine thing to do, and I needed something harsher to burn me out so I would sleep at night. Weights did the trick.

I didn't have any images in my mind, I was purely turned on by the water and my own touch. No frenzied lust and another sweating body to worry about. Just myself, stroking me exactly how I liked. So relaxed yet so hard at the same time. The cascade of warm water beat down on my chest as my shoulders leant against the cold tiles. It was a long, shuddering orgasm that left me smiling. At least I could always love me when nobody else did.

Back to the real world when the water turned off. Even my shower was under threat, because I couldn't keep up with rent. I'd never bought a house yet. I just hadn't managed to save up for the initial deposit. Probably because I spent so much on my car. And never had a steady income.

That shower was another turning point. I walked out with my mind so calmed it focused on what I needed to do. To accept my faults before it went too far.

I probably should've texted before I turned up, but I knew they'd be home. They had a 5 year old kid by now and I frequently babysat. I heard Amelia's voice through the door, calling for Zack to answer it. And Zack calling back, telling her to.

A few seconds later it opened to Amelia in a bathrobe, hair up in a towel. Even now, after all we'd been through, after all the stupid arguments I kept starting up, she greeted me with a smile. I hugged her. She was taken back for a moment, but returned it with that cuddly embrace of hers.

"Is everything okay, Ty?"

She smelt like shampoo. "I need help."

Her hands pushed me away to study my face. I didn't try to avoid her scrutinizing gaze. For once I didn't feel like a nervous wreck. I was confident, I knew what to do, I just wanted some help doing it. She took my wrist and led me to the lounge.

"Zack?"

He was sitting on the floor in shirt, trousers, and socks, controller in his hands. His intense concentration face lit up into a smile as he glanced away from the screen. The white teeth slowly parted the black beard in a grin.

"Can't you pause?" Amelia asked.

"I'm online."

He had a headset over his ears, and my eyes moved to their giant TV on the wall. He was on an impressive kill streak. No wonder he didn't want to answer the door. I went over to crouch and speak profanities into the microphone while little raging voices came from the headphones. He laughed mightily.

With his streak ended by a camper he swore, chuckled, and quit the match, then turned his full attention to me.

"Why didn't you say you were coming?"

"Sorry."

"He wants to talk," Amelia said, sitting herself down on the sofa. He leant back against her legs and she tousled his hair.

"What's up?"

I stretched my legs out and crossed my arms. "I'm in a mess."

"When aren't you?"

"Financial mess. I got one month to catch up on my rent or I'm out."

"Do you need some money?" Zack asked. "You can pay me back wh-"

"No. I need a job." I glanced between him and Amelia. "I know you've got contacts. Can you get me in somewhere? Please."

"I'm sure we can," Amelia said. There was that twinkle in her eyes, but I didn't linger on it. I wasn't sure how I felt about it yet.

"I need something stable. Somebody somewhere must be able to make use of me."

I must have sat there looking so dejected because Zack leant over to me. "C'mere." He seized me in one of his growling bear hugs. I hadn't received one in a while. Felt like years.

"You know we're always here," he said.

I squeezed him back. "Don't I tire you?"

"You exhaust me. So what. You're family." He pulled back with a grin but I stayed flat against the chair. Asking for help was shockingly draining.

"Can I stay here tonight? It clears my head."

"Sure. Do you want to take David to school in the morning?"

"Is that how I pay you back?"

"Yes. Seven o'clock alarm or I unleash him into your room."

*

The little bastard came into the guest room anyways. I got a stomach full of knees and hands in my hair. At least he didn't land on my balls.

The kid had endless energy. He bounced off the walls and ceiling while Zack and I tried to eat breakfast, skidding across the floor and getting his black school trousers all dusty. Uncle Tyler was taking him to school in the noisy car.

He dashed out the front door ahead of me with my keys, then pressed the button and giggled in glee when it beeped and the lights flashed. He locked and unlocked it several more times before I was allowed to get inside. He clambered into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and did the seatbelt all by himself, grinning up at me with the thick strap across his neck.

I couldn't help but grin back. He had his father's green eyes and black hair, but his face looked more Amelia's shape, even at that young age.

I didn't have many things at that point, but I did have my Chevrolet Camaro. I revved the engine a few times to make David's grin even bigger, then roared out down the driveway. Good morning neighbours.

There were lots of mums in their over-sized, over-expensive 4-by-4's blocking the school's road and making a hazardous mess. Not that I could comment on expensive cars. I wove in and out of the traffic, getting honked at and honking in return, which made David giggle even more and toss me a few shy glances. Uncle Tyler was being naughty again.

I managed to pull up by the curb and he let himself out, grabbing his book bag and running off into the gates, little blazer of his uniform flapping as he went. I'd probably made him a hyper nightmare for the teachers all day. Oh well. I studied the gridlock of the road I now needed to escape and checked my phone.

There was a lengthy text from Amelia, giving me an address and instructions. She worked that quick.

"Make sure you're there 1pm sharp. You'll be pitching yourself to Darren."

Jesus fucking Christ.

I thought she'd at least try something else before she pulled that one. I should've known. She had already tried this once. So many things I wanted to patter down onto that screen to her, but the traffic was finally moving.

"K."

I got home and rushed through papers on my desk, trying to gather everything that could work as a CV. For nearly the past year I'd been struggling with the infuriating reply to my applications, that I was 'over-qualified'. It made me want to punch walls. Now I was facing something where I felt grossly under-qualified.

I looked up the address on Google Maps, and it was a restaurant. Was I supposed to be meeting with Darren in a public space? Scanning tables of heads and trying to recognise him? I only had a faint picture of him in my mind from a few glimpses over the past few years.

How was this an interview?

I showered fast. Brushed my teeth twice as long. Shaved and trimmed and considered running some gel through my hair. No. It made me look like a damn teenager. Wash it out.

I only owned one nice suit, and I just couldn't picture walking into a restaurant in it. I'd feel ridiculous. I opted for smart casual instead, finding the best-looking black jeans in my wardrobe, and a red and black checkered shirt. For maybe a minute I just stood there, studying myself in the mirror. I looped a leather belt through the jeans even if they were a snug fit on my hips. I did up the top button on the shirt. No. Too tight. Two buttons undone. Three? No, too much chest hair on show. Two. I rolled up the sleeves to my elbows then stood staring again.

Did I look good?

It was already nearly 12. What the fuck to wear on my feet? No, not the Doc Martens. Actually... maybe?

I knew the street the restaurant was on, but I entered the address into my phone's sat nav just in case, then tossed it onto the passenger seat atop my portfolio and listened to that sexy voice telling me all the directions I already knew. It was supposed to make me feel a bit better.

It was a nice area of town, with tall, looming buildings of old Victorian architecture. I cruised down the road until I recognised the exterior of the restaurant from the online photos. It had a carpark around back, with spaces. I stepped out into the fresh air, sunshine beating down on my head and shoulders, and briefly wondered which of those cars was Darren's.

I felt so unprepared for this. Why, Amelia? You couldn't at least give me a full day?

A waitress greeted me just inside the door, hair bleach blonde and eyeliner thick. I quickly glanced at my watch. 12:50.

"Hello, sir. Do you have a reservation?"

"Erm, no." A stained glass divider blocked my view into the rest of the interior. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone."

She glanced at the portfolio tucked beneath my arm. "Darren? You're Tyler, yes?"

My eyebrow twitched. "Yes."

She smiled and beckoned to follow, leading me further inside. Damn, what a suave place. What a rich-people hangout. It probably looked fantastic at night with all the lights and stained glass.

Zack and Amelia were there. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. They were sitting at a table in the corner, beside a window. The waitress led me over. It was one of those tables where it was like a sofa against the wall, with two normal chairs the other side. Darren was tucked into the furthest possible corner on the sofa-side, and Amelia had to get up to let him out as I approached.

I saw Darren briefly check his watch beneath the sleeve of his suit. His eyes flicked up and down me. He was going to judge every little thing. It was like you could watch the first impressions forming in his mind. Was I supposed to smile, or be straight-faced and serious? I only knew how to be charming when smiling. My serious face was a scowl.

Fuck it. Switch on the charm.

He held out his hand and I shook it. It surprised me for how friendly it felt. I thought he'd be the type to squeeze so hard it made your knuckles hurt.

"Darren," he said, in one of those beautifully deep voices. A different deep to Zack's. Much smoother.

"Tyler." I don't have a very deep voice. I mean, it's average.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

My smile cracked to show teeth but I was grimacing inside. What had Zack and Amelia told him about me? "You too."

He gestured to the table. I moved around to the chair beside Zack and Amelia started to get to her feet again.

"No," Darren started, waving a hand as if she were supposed to scoot over instead. "It's okay I can-"

"Don't be silly," she started. "You've already made your butt-mark there."

He chuckled as he clambered back across the sofa-seat to his corner. It was somewhat relaxing, at least. The mood of this was definitely informal.