Sirens rang out in the distance. I knew I should wake up, but the thought of Kylie’s eyes lingering in a blue lagoon somewhere in the distance held me hostage to the couch I was resting on. Still, the piercing noise grew louder. Kylie’s eyes were fading and I was being dragged back to a memory of what it was like always running from those sounds of police sirens chasing me, hunting me down.
I slowly shook myself awake, forcing my eyes to open. They were heavy, weighed down from the day before. I looked around, expecting to see a room full of the guys I left with half slumped over their chairs. But the room was empty. All that was left in this seedy, rundown apartment was me and a bunch of used needles, tin foil, and empty bottles of hard liquor. No sight of the men. They knew better than to wait around.
I sat up and reach for one of the vodka bottles. My throat was killing me, but there was nothing left but a few stubborn drops to quench my thirst. As I stumbled towards the kitchen, trash crackled under my feet. The place hasn’t been decent in years, I thought. Well, at least not by someone who actually lived in this apartment. Now it was basically a drug den for Hill’s gang and people like me who keep getting sucked back into it.
As I sucked down some water left in a plastic cup, I studied my arm. I saw the old marks, pale and some purple. The veins around them looked tired and bruised. Each scar and little pinprick was associated with a memory that was too hard for me to think of and too distant for me to actually remember if I tried.
Even last night was a blur, but I felt different. In my head, I remembered the guys handing me a needle and some tar, but me refusing. At one point, I worried they’d hold me down, but I convinced Hill to let me stand guard and drive sober. I stuck to the drinks instead as the rest of the men shot up around me. Once we made it to the safe house, I drank my weight in liquor, knowing it was the only way to stop my hands from shaking and giving in to the daemons I ran from.
At one point, I crashed. Too much vodka, whiskey, and beer would do that to you. Only Hill remained awake, chuckling to himself as the visions continued to come in and out, slowing his brain. I remembered my eyelids closing as he approached me, standing over my place on the couch. He had said something to me, but I was too far gone to comprehend or to pay attention. All I wanted was to find myself wrapped in Kylie’s arms, to feel her skin pressed against mine, to feel the weight of her breasts in my hand.
The sirens grew louder, and I became aware of where I was and what was happening. I needed an escape that wasn’t through the front door. I didn’t have time for that one. I ran as fast as my shaking legs could take me to the back of the small apartment. There was a back exit leading to an old metal fire escape. I was only four floors up, but the height got me instantly. I held on to the bar as I shuffled down a flight of stairs. The sounds of boots kicking in the apartment’s front door pounded behind me.
Everything was screams and shouting as I got desperate. As soon as I landed on the third floor, I spun myself over the rail, jumping down off the fire escape to the concrete parking lot. My legs buckled underneath me as the blow of the fall hit hard on my boots. Still, I steadied my balance and took an account of my body. No breaks. No sprains. I could run, as long as my throbbing head didn’t slow me down.
I wove through the parked cars, most clearly abandoned for years, their tires long gone, their windows broken through, some spray-painted over with gang signs. I hid behind an old Jeep as I watched a team of police dressed in head to toe black, their guns pointed in front of them, survey the lot.
I’m not getting caught again. I’m not going back there. I was promising myself that this wasn’t going to be my end. I had to get back to my home. I had to get back to work.
As I waited out the cops, I planned the rest of my escape. The only way out of the locked parking lot was coming from the entrance the police just came through. There would be backup, for sure, nearby. But it was my only option. I scanned the cars for something, anything that could pass. A red, 1990s car caught my eye, no graffiti, two low (but not flat) tires, and the hood was still in place. It was my best bet by far.
I lowered myself towards the ground and scooted towards the car. The cops were still manning the fire escape, waiting for the all clear from above. It gave me just enough time to reach into the hood, pop it, and play with the wiring. The car started up immediately. I ran towards the door, opening it in one swoop. The cops on the escape turned my way, startled from the sound.
“It’s just me, officers.” I waved up my hands towards them, as if I'd been there the whole time. I motioned towards one of the apartments where the lights were on inside. “I need to get to the grocery store for my lady. Can I get out of here, or should I wait?”
One of the men wearing a Kevlar vest on the outside of his uniform said something to his partner before nodding in my direction. I got in the car and pulled out of the space, praying to God that this car would hold up at least a few more blocks. I managed to get it out of the lot and into the alley. Four cop cars lined the gravel street. I waved from them as I slowly passed. I was down the entire length of the street before I saw a cop waving wildly at me, yelling at me to stop.
Shit. Shit! Shit! I pounded my hands against the steering wheel in defeat as I pulled the car over and lifted my arms up above my head. The officer approached the driver’s side, his hand on the gun in its holster. But to my surprise, there were no others following him. He was alone and walking towards the door without hesitation. I rolled down the window as he shouted to me, “Son, that taillight of yours is out. I’m not going to give you a ticket or anything, but go get it fixed when you can. Got it?”
I smiled wide, flashing my teeth at him, “Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me know. I don’t drive this old beater too often.”
“You be safe, got it? That apartment you’re living in isn’t in the best shape. Some seedy characters living around you may make it even more dangerous. Stay out of trouble and move out as soon as you can.” He was sincere. I had met cops like him – decent guys just doing their jobs, but they were certainly few and far between. I reached out my hand to shake his before driving away once more.
This time, I made the turn and headed back in the direction of the Lion’s Head. I ditched the car about three blocks away on a residential street and then walked it back towards the bar. I breathed a huge sigh of relief to see my red Harley still in the same place I left it.
As I saddled up, I spotted Max, just exiting his car. He was dressed in the same flannel shirt, a black apron tied around his wide waist. He shouted at me, his arm raised, “What the hell happened to you, kid? You look like shit!”
“You know exactly what happened, Max. Hill got to me.” I fidgeted with my helmet, trying not to look up to him. Max had known me a long time, long enough to know my story better than most. The way he looked at me with disappointment in his eyes pretty much said it all.
“Please tell me you didn’t.” His arms were raised up in complete disbelief and disappointment. He was the one who got me sober last year. He forced me to come to terms with what I was doing to myself and the lives I was destroying. I still remembered the first time he pulled me into the office, screaming and hollering at me about needing to make a change. He threw me an apron and told me to work it off. I spent the rest of the night alternating between the bathroom, the bar, and the office as I fought the withdrawal. I did that routine for almost two months before I was ready to go back to porn.
“I didn’t shoot up, if that’s what you mean. I managed to get out of that.” I placed the helmet on my lap as I turned back towards him, “I’m not going down that path anymore, Max. I’ve got bigger fish to fry, worse things to focus on.”
He looked up towards the bar and then back again in my direction, “You know where to find me if you run into that shit again. I ain’t afraid of Hill or the dealers.”
“You should be. I heard them yesterday talking about dealing heroin.” I listened to him as he scoffed and kicked a rock out of his direction. “Hopefully they don’t come around your bar too much after that.”
Max walked away without another word. He was the kind of man who knew when enough had been said and kept it at that. I appreciated that type of person. Working in porn, you rarely meet someone truly introverted. Kylie was my first. She kept her head down; she was exactly what she presented herself to be. The cover matched the story – at least I hoped it did.
I revved up the bike and pulled myself to the turn. I could turn right and go home and sleep it off. I could slip back into the dream where Kylie stared at me from a distance, all knowing, all wanting. Or I could turn left and do something about it. I could see her in person, experience her again for myself.
I chose left, towards Daniel’s studio. Bright Bodies Studio was located in a sterile office building, twenty stories off the ground. I had been there once before, the day I signed my contract with him for forty films. But I still remembered the process, the parking lot, the receptionist with the bright red lips and the too short skirt.
When she asked me if I had an appointment, I lied and told her yes. She stood up, tugging at her pencil skirt from behind. I stole a few glances as the fabric continued to ride up her leg. Daniel certainly had a type. Busty, tan, and out of place looking. I could instantly see why he hired the girls he did.
I listened to the girl as she announced my name. Daniel resisted, both going back and forth on what to do with me. I was unexpected. It wasn’t on his calendar. I'd gotten her in trouble. Still, he walked out of the office, his hands on his hip as he approached me. “What are you doing here, Wilder? I’ve got no time before I need to get to the club.”
“I need to talk to you. It can’t wait.” I was insistent. I needed to know more about Kylie, and I wasn’t going to leave until he gave me what I wanted.
He turned silently, back into his office. I followed at his heels, shutting the door quickly behind him. I took a look at the office. It was modern, sterile, cold. It was nothing what I expected. It was full of white furniture, white desks, silver and chrome accents. Some books on filmmaking sat on a twisting bookcase. And the window was covered with a white velvet shade.
He sat in a silver and black lounge chair, leaning back as he asked, “So what do I owe this pleasure, Wilder?”
“I want to work with Kylie again.” I just spat it out. I knew what I wanted and that was more time with her.
“That’s not going to be possible.” Daniel was rummaging through some papers sitting in a black folder. He pulled one out and studied it before adding, “She’s only booked for eight films, and I’ve already planned out the stories and booked the guys. Too bad we can’t have her on permanently. She obviously has some chemistry with you…and those tits. Man. Perfection. You don’t get that natural look with these other girls.”
“When were you in the business of doing such short contracts? I know Julie still owes you at least twenty more films before she’s out of your pocket.” My first forty was small, a short deal as he called it at the time. It was enough to pay down my debts to dealers and make a small living. Once my first forty were complete, I was hooked for another two hundred.
“What can I say? I had mercy on her. She needed some quick cash and had the look I wanted for a few films, so she’s only signed for the rest of the month.” He put his hands to his mouth, studying me. I wouldn’t blame him. I never showed interest in an actress or the business before. And me showing up at this location was suspicious.
I offered a solution, “Then trade me out with one of the guys. I’ll take the lower pay. Whatever. Just get it done.”
He continued to just stare at me, watching me for some hidden sign. He wrote a note with a black marker, crossing a line through a name on a sheet. “I’ll make that deal with you, Wilder. But only because I was just reviewing the raw film from the shoot yesterday. I’m not going to deny that you two are going to make me rich. This porn is going to go viral. Even the two minute preview we put on the site has already 500,000 views. And the advance buys are through the roof. If you can make that happen again, then it’ll be worth canceling on a guy’s contract.”
“You’ve got the footage already?” I hesitated before asking, “Can I watch it?”
He turned his screen in my direction and walked towards the door. “Suit yourself, man.” He walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving me with the blank screen. I reached over the desk and used the mouse to click the play button and then sat back to watch.
I listened to her voice as she recited the lines right on cue, her eyes narrowed in at the right moments, her hands robotic but still looking natural. She wasn’t comfortable with the acting and the idea that she should be the seductress, you could tell. Luckily for her, no one ever watches these things for the acting.
Then came the kiss. It was out of nowhere, the camera shook as they responded to me throwing her up against the wall. Our hands groped and felt at one another. By the time we started the 69, I found myself more turned on than before. It was bringing me back to those moments when our bodies had connected. I watched her face as she orgasmed with fascination. She wasn’t like anything I'd ever had. And I doubt I’d find her again.
I had one shot with her. One film to get to the bottom of her, to figure out who she was, and why I couldn’t get those hazel eyes out of my mind.