The Palace of Pleasure

"Well, it's done." Jack announced as he walked into what passed for Tiff's office, startling her out of the typing she'd been submerged in for hours now. He flopped down in an worn office chair with a heavy sigh while she saved her work and swiveled in his direction. Running a hand through reddish blonde hair that was getting long, Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes, obviously tired and she let him have this rare moment of peace. After a deep breath, Jack opened weary eyes and leaned forward.

"He's moved in, roommate seems like a nice guy and Mom cried a whole bunch. But it's done." She heard the utter exhaustion in Jack's voice and all Tiff could do was nod as he leaned back in the chair and heaving another sigh. Jack wasn't a big guy in any sense of the word but he carried so much responsibility that he seemed to generate gravity, crushing him and at times like this, spilling out to her as well. But Tiff knew all too well why and had help shoulder that enormous weight, knowing they would one day be free of it. And that day was today.

Jack and Tiff had been in the same class since second grade and had been strangers until she shyly approached him during a lame middle school dance and silently held out a hand. He looked at her for a second then took it, the two of them dancing to some slow song Tiff didn't remember and after that they sat down side by side and started talking. It was then she started learning why Jack was so mature and tired for his age.

When Jack was 10 his father had just happened to stop at a gas station when it exploded, racking up the highest body count their city had ever seen. Windows had shattered blocks away, people reported temporary and permanent hearing damage and part of the parking lot had been reduced to a crater, one of the underground gas tanks having ruptured and then blown.

Just like that, Jack's mother was now single and caring for two kids, one of whom was an absolute trouble magnet. Jensen was 8 when his Dad died, with bright intelligent eyes that showed even in pictures from back then. Their Mom took a second job and then Jack, at 10, got to raise his younger brother. He cleaned up dozens of skinned knees, prepared hundreds of meals and and listened to thousands of tirades about how the other kids in his class couldn't keep up with him and were dumb.

Then middle school provided Jensen found all new worlds of trouble to explore and Jack was there to pull him out each time. Groundings were given, with Jensen sometimes ending up sitting at the kitchen table for hours after coming home smelling of booze or weed or having spray paint all over his hands. Jensen would always say he didn't mean anything by it, he just wanted to see what it was like to do these things and Jack would tell him their Dad wouldn't want him running around doing this shit.

Jensen discovering girls had posed all new problems, as he had gotten his Dad's looks and easy charm. Jack had asked Tiff after getting to know her to talk with him, to warm Jensen off of certain types of girls and she'd agreed, wanting to help out after learning about all Jack was responsible for. And she found out how hard it was to get Jensen to listen, he had an innocence about him, saying he was sure that the current girl he was talking to was a good person deep down and just needed someone who really understood her to turn things around. Tiff knew who he was talking about and that she had a reputation for doing more than kissing.

Raising Jensen had basically been a full time job for Jack and he still went to school and worked any part time jobs he could. Mowing lawns, shoveling snow, babysitting, helping some of his Mom's friends set up WiFi, Jack did it all as their Mom ran herself ragged. Until finally, with three flawed and tired guardian angels backing him, Jensen had skirted past the pitfalls that usually ensnare smart, good looking youths and graduated with 4.0 GPA. Tiff had helped him sort out the flurry of scholarships he'd gotten and then today, Jack had helped pack up Jensen's stuff and drove him two hours away to a much better college that she was going to. Jensen, that troublesome little shit, had grown into a handsome blonde guy with a smile that made most people clutch their chest and moan about him being too good for this world.

And for Tiff, she could have happily hit him with a baseball bat a few times for how much stress he generated. Only in the past year did Jensen give much thought to how hard Jack and his Mother had given for him, sacrificing so much time and energy to keep from him jumping into the fire. Glancing over at Jack, who's eyes were closed, she wondered what he was dreaming about

Jack wasn't fully asleep but dozing, disconnected from the reality that had seen him raising his brother when he himself was still a child. The drive had been long and tedious, with Jensen trying to tell Mom he'd be fine and she could stop crying, really, please it was making him want to join in as well. Once Mom had pulled herself together, Jack began his part, reminding Jensen how important it was to show up to class on time.

"I'm not going to be there. You need to wake up on time, get to class and finish your homework." Jack had said and Jensen replied in a serious, even tone that had be coming from him more and more.

"I know. It's on me to get this done." Jensen cracked his knuckles and smiled at the open road surrounded by morning sunshine and open fields. "I'm looking forward to it." Jack had just nodded, finding that his little shit of a brother might have matured somewhere along the line. Talk continued until they reached campus, papers got signed and then clothing got moved into the tiny dorm, Jensen assuring him he was looking forward to exploring a new city and having to actually try in class.

Then a final hug and Jack was back on the road with his quietly weeping Mom who struck up a conversation about what they were going to do now and he had no answer. In many ways Jensen had been the entirety of his life's work, Jack's ultimate goal to make sure Dad's little boy got what he deserved from life and now it was out of his hands.

So Jack dozed in the second hand office chair while Tiff typed, glancing over at him while putting together the next line in her head. She had read plenty of novels growing up and wasn't quite sure if she loved Jack in the same manner talked about in the spicier books. He was good looking, at least her eyes, being slim and on the shorter side. But it was the quiet resolve that made her both fascinated and slightly worried. He saw things through, not caring if it was raising his brother or simply finishing a season of some show she had started.

It was that grim march forward which Tiff could see becoming a problem in the future. At times Jack seemed to not care if he enjoyed something but just made sure it was done to say that it was finished. But those few times he was distracted enough to stop worrying, cracking dark jokes and let those surprisingly sensual lips grin while he tilted his head to the side, that's when Tiff wanted to promise herself to him. Or at least rip her clothes off and jump his bones right there.

And, and, and... Tiff looked at him and wondered why she thought this, having no one else to really talk about this certain topic with. At times, she wondered if Jack was pretty. Usually when he took a shower just before bed or was sleeping, like he was doing now, Tiff couldn't keep her eyes off of him. She knew Jack didn't care much about how he looked, he said as much multiple times over the years, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he would clean up good in a completely different way than just a shower would provide.

Watching him sleep, she felt more strongly about Jack not being outright handsome as Jensen was but leaning a different way. Yet the softness Tiff saw now was almost always trampled with concern that usually made his expression tighter, more stoic and hard in a way that detracted from his appearance. Jack took more after his Mother in looks and demeanor, the both of them natural worriers. And there was something else they shared, a little thing that had probably helped Jack's Mom land the good looking guy Tiff had only seen in pictures: A beauty mark under those plush lips that were often flattened out due to stress. It was under the right corner of his mouth and she'd never brought it up despite staring at it during times like this.

Finally, when Jack stirred, Tiff went back to typing about how the city had a lack of public transportation for the college newspaper. And she was back to a world of numbers that didn't add up and indifference from those on high about anyone who wasn't them. So Tiff wrote and was taken by the task, searching about for a solid, damning closing statement to drive her point home.

Jack opened his eyes, saw Tiff doing her thing, thought about saying something but instead rose quietly. He was still tired but napping would cause sleep to elude him later. Instead he went and prepared to shower, wanting that above all else right then.

Once under the hot water, Jack allowed himself to linger there, not feeling the usual itch to hurry, to save hot water for whoever else was waiting. Instead he tried to relax, to tell himself that Jensen was finally seeing the big picture and had a future that wasn't just partying ahead of him. Only issue being, now Jack had a future as well and it was empty aside from Tiff. They worked well together, stayed out of each others way and had sex when the mood took them but Jack wasn't sure what she saw in him. Far as he knew, most people didn't find getting a job done sexy and that's all he was good at.

When the water lost it's biting heat, Jack turned it off and stepped out, drying himself off. Stepping into the bedroom with the towel about his waist and dirty clothes in his hands, he dumped the pockets on the bed. When he had done this same action with Jensen's pants, there was no telling what might come out. A few times it had been joints, once a tiny baggy of some white powder Jensen refused to explain and, perhaps most confusingly, an ancient 2 dollar bill he insisted was found in a gutter.

There was no such mystery here, Jack wasn't a fan of unanswered questions and preferred his life squared away, a term he picked up from a guy at work and used ever since. But here was an outlier that had spilled forth from his pockets, stirring up a memory from that morning. He had gotten up early, knowing moving Jensen was going to be an ordeal and found this tucked under his windshield wiper, so it went into his pocket and was forgotten. Until now.

Picking up what looked like a business card, it had the same feel as well, Jack's face took on a more familiar, strained expression that was all most people saw from him. The card was bent nearly in half but not battered, impressive after spending hours in his pocket. It was a plain textured white with black font that spelled out 'The Palace of -" And the last word was gibberish, the sort that people used for creepy stories on the internet, with the font breaking usual margins and being unreadable. There was an address under the useless name, telling Jack it was in the older part of town where most buildings were aged brick and also that it was close to the restaurant where he worked. Tucking the card in his wallet, if only to get it out of his sight, Jack tossed the clothes in the hamper, changed into his usual sleeping attire and hung his towel back up. Then he cooked a simple supper of chicken and potatoes, Tiff coming out to talk while he did so.

Only then, with the day's work done, did he sit with her on the couch and relax. They ate while watching a movie and Jack dozed off soon after, his head leaning on Tiff's shoulder. She split her time between the movie and him, lightly touching the beauty mark and turning red after, her pleased smile going unseen.

After the movie, she roused Jack and they retired to bed. But once there Jack found he couldn't sleep and only when he was sure Tiff was out did he rise and grab his shoes, wallet, phone and keys. Quietly he walked out into the night, to the car that was older than he was but fully paid off and owned by him and Tiff. In the cooler air of the night, summer's finality, Jack felt too aware and awake.

Unlocking the car, he got in and tucked his wallet in the center console while turning the keys in the ignition. Flicking the headlights on, he started driving, having no goal in mind but doing it just for something to do. The overriding thought that he kept coming back to was 'What now?' Jensen was off on his own, finally learning how to be an adult. Where did that leave him? Jack worked full time at a restaurant, hustling in the kitchen and picking up extra hours when they were available. He'd gotten the job to help his Mom with bills years ago and it had carried him into splitting rent with Tiff at their current place. And now, only now, did he wonder if that was his future.

Pulling into a bank parking lot, Jack reached for his wallet and pulled out the business card with it's baffling name. Looking at the address, he found it was minutes away. Had he driven close on purpose or just going to work out of habit?

Holding the bent card in between his fingers, Jack got his car moving, eyes checking the street signs more than he had in years. It was two roads away from his usual turn, the street corner taken up by a large pawn shop and the surrounding buildings were more busted than usual. Still, he drove down the dark street, the businesses dead and unassuming at this hour. Parking, the only time he didn't need to worry about finding a spot was 2 AM, of course, he got out and locked the door behind him. In only a T shirt and loose shorts, Jack looked out of place walking down the street, especially with his hard, vaguely dazed expression.

"What now?" He muttered, not aware he said it. Checking the card under a flickering streetlight, he kept walking down the abandoned street, the dregs of summer making it comfortable instead of the cold that would sweep in any night now. Finally, after a block of searching, he found a door with only the address, faded to nigh readability, above it and a tiny window that when he peered in showed a staircase leading upward. No other hints as to what this door opened to.

Checking the card again, Jack found the address matched even if he had to use his phone's flashlight and squint to make out the barely there numbers. Looking through the window, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and that only increased the 'What now?' feeling all the more. Jack had no use for how he looked aside if he was at a job interview or going to work. He just needed to make sure Jensen was taken care of along with helping his Mom. But those tasks were done. Now he had to get on with the business of living for himself and for once Jack had no idea how to do that.

Jensen had asked what he was going to do now after the task of moving was done and Jack had shrugged. That had been the most honest answer he could give as he truly had no idea then and still had no clue now, standing in front of an unmarked door with a business card. If a cop drove by he'd probably get thrown in the slammer for being creepy in public.

Reaching for the handle, Jack was surprised when the door opened and even more so at the lack of an alarm going off. Slipping inside, he smelled a faint whiff of perfume and looked at the stairs, not liking how old and steep they were. And yet he climbed them, the vaguest business card he'd even seen still in his hand. As Tiff was sleeping at their place, he climbed to the top of the stairs and found a puzzling sight.

There was what might have been a teller booth but the window was tinted and Jack couldn't make out if anyone was back there. A door was to the right of the booth, looking more like something out of a horror movie, including the fact it was lacking a handle. Stepping up to the booth, Jack stooped to look through the opening and jumped when a hand slid forth. At least it was a normal, human hand but that was a fleeting comfort.

"Ticket?" A female voice inquired, not threatening at all but the hairs on the back of Jack's neck still stood up. Something was wrong here, wrong in a way he'd tried to keep Jensen away from and now here he was, having found it in the middle of the night.

"All I have is this." He said, placing the card on the counter, within reach of the hand but not so close it could grab him. Whoever was back there was looking at him, not surprising since Jack was the only person here but it was making him uncomfortable.

"Yep, that's a ticket!" The faceless, formless woman grabbed the card and pulled it in the booth, leaving Jack standing there, only a single lamp sticking out of a wall allowing him to see. At this point he expected some slasher to emerge from the door, the mood was right for it. Instead the hand slid the card out, Jack noticing the nails were painted a deep red. Jack slowly picked the card up, noticing that whoever was in there had stamped something on the back with pink ink, the words stating 'Admit 1 to The Palace.' Some numbers were lined up along the side of the text, small and nearly impossible to read in the low light.

"Welcome! Just follow the directions and enjoy The Palace." She said as Jack looked up from the card, then to the door as it gave a muffled click before swinging open slightly. He blinked, unsure about any of this, most of all that door. This whole thing was a mystery and while he didn't like such things, Tiff did, her curiosity leading towards a career in investigative journalism. And maybe some of her interests were rubbing off on Jack. Or maybe it was the gnawing 'What now?' that was still echoing in his head.

Whatever it might have been, Jack took the step towards the door and grabbed the edge, there being no handle so he had to settle for that. Pulling it open he walked into a tiny room, not stopping the door as it closed behind him. Another teller window flanked another door with no knob, apparently the norm here. Instantly, he didn't like it in here. This place was too small, too dark, too... Strange. It felt wrong, Jack glancing up, making out a dim ceiling mostly hidden away by shadows and that made him all the more uneasy. This room felt unfinished and made Jack feel... Itchy? Raw? Not well and he didn't care for it.

"Welcome! Please put your ticket into the machine there." Another female voice said from behind a darkened barrier and Jack approached a chrome panel inset by the door, a slot for the ticket and then a small bowl near the bottom. He frowned at noticing the wall around this machine was padded and touching it revealed it was leather, further disquieting Jack.

Still, he slipped the ticket into the slot and a thrum began, deep and piercing. It sounded like when their fridge was dying years ago, the sound one of agony. Covering his ears, Jack wanted to call all of this off but just as suddenly that mechanical hum cut off. Lowering his hands, Jack glanced at the teller window, aware that he was being watched and he hated that. It wasn't his place to be treated like that, the Jensen's of the world desired such and should soak in this scrutiny then praise.

"Sorry about that! Be sure to grab your things and please enjoy your time at The Palace." The ticket emerged from the chrome with a click and there was a rattle of metal, coins rolling down into that shiny change bowl. Jack reached for them, feeling a childish glee for doing so, having not used much psychical money since starting to work and there was still a delight in having a handful of change, even if this haul had some serious heft to it.

Opening his fingers, Jack brought the palm full of currency closer to his face as that simple happiness faded. All the coins appeared to be half dollars that had been worked over with a hammer and then skimmed over a lake of acid. The text was all blurred and the faces no longer proud but vague, defying identification. There was a glint of gold and he dug out a barely golden dollar that was pitted and half covered with what might have been cement. It was a struggle to make out it was indeed a dollar coin and Jack doubted it had any worth given how much was obscured with gunk he couldn't pry off.