Sorry about last chapter, it was unedited and also I didn't do a title, I just wanted to get something out there, y'know? Also no title for this either because I can't think of one and also Les Mis reference yeet~~

(TW: Prostitution, Homophobia)

(Jeremy's POV)

I can't believe I let Jake drag me here. I'm panicking a little bit, because I know that prostitution barely counts as consent. But here I am, walking down an alleyway with Jake Dillinger and Rich Goranski. (Honestly, those two should just fuck each other)

Every man who leans on the walls around me looks like he's dead inside- or maybe like he'd rather be dead. Rich must notice my tension, because he leans over to me and whispers so Jake won't hear-

"You don't actually have to, y'know. Just grab someone, bring 'em in a room, and just talk. That's what I do, and I think it's actually good for them. I've talked to a few who've had pretty fucked-up lives." He gives me a look, like he's daring me to judge him. I'm not. I know he's only here because of Jake.

"Alright, guys." - Speaking of Jake - "Take your pick."

Ugh. How dehumanising. I look around at the people standing by doors, sitting by walls, laying on the ground.

My eyes eventually land on a boy who sits against a wall, curled up, crying. Or at least shaking - I can't see his face.

I feel my body moving through the air... I see my Converse walking over there...

The boy- man? Must hear me coming, because he completely stops moving when I'm a few steps from him.

I squat down to his level, and speak to him softly.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I hear him sigh; then he lifts his head to look at me. I see dark brown eyes and hair, beautifully placed on tan skin. The problem is, his eyes are puffy and bloodshot, and tear tracks stain lines down his cheeks.

"Okay, stupid question." Why would he be okay, Jeremy?! Idiot. What do I do now?!? Uh-

Rich's words ring in my head.

"Just grab someone, bring 'em in a room, and just talk. I think it's actually good for them."

"Do you, uh-" how to say this... "do you want to- uh- do you have a- a room? We could go to?"

He sighs and stands up. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me off down the alleyway until we get to a door in the wall a ways down.

Upon entering the small room, I am met with a ratty mattress on the floor, and a lamp next to it, giving off a yellowish light. The boy sits on the bed- if you can even call it that- and pats the spot next to him.

After I sit, I look at him, trying to read his face. He looks like he's battling something. He probably is.

"What do you want?" His broken voice is gone as soon as it came.

"W-What? What do you m-"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me. You know damn well what I-" he pulls in a sharp breath, then pulls his arms over his face and head. "Please don't hit me."

"Why- why would I hit you? I just want to talk..."

"Sure you do. And hunters just like to look at the animals."

I was taken aback at his statement. But how do I convince him I won't take advantage of him, when that's all anyone has ever done?

"Why are you here? Like- I mean- how did you-" ugh. "What happened that you ended up in this... place?"

A sigh. "You really wanna know?"

"Yeah... I th- yes. Yes I do."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"You sure?"

"Yes! Now just... tell me? Please?"

"Fine. But you're gonna regret it."

"No I won't. I promise."

He stares into my eyes like he hasn't ever seen a human being before in his life. Then he starts-

"Okay... so. Uh. Where do I start. Okay, so, I'm gay, right, but my parents were... they weren't... they didn't like the gays. They don't - I'm sure they're still kickin' somewhere. So, I finally decided to stop with all the self-hate they caused me, like maybe if I come out they'll clean up their act or something? I don't know.

"So one day I came out and... well, first I came out to my mom, and she shrieked. It was like, she was so horrified that her baby was a queer, that she couldn't even hold it all in. Well, she told me to never tell dad, and that I'm the meantime we'd get me some 'help' for my 'condition.' So she started looking for therapy, right? And one day she finally found a place... which I wasn't happy about, obviously. But dad was much less happy. Apparently mom didn't think about the fact he could see the bills for things she paid for, or whatever. So one day, I get home from school, I open the door, and there's my... m- my... sorry..."

I realise he is crying. Maybe I should like, hug him or something? But I don't wanna just touch him without asking- he gets enough of that already, even if I'd only hold him, so I just don't.

"And there was... your dad? At the doorway?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going. Rich was right, this kid has a lot on his mind.

"Yeah... and he looked so mad and I was so confused... like, why does my dad look like I just burned down the White House, ya know?" He laughs a bit, but it sounds shallow and insincere. Scared. "And then he grabbed me by the collar and he- he-"

"You don't have to say it," I tell him.

He nods.

"Do you need a holding or something? I can put my arm-" I gesture a side hug- "if you want?"

He laughs.

"What?!"

"Nothing, just... a holding? I like it. Also... sure. Yes." A sob comes out of his mouth. "Please?"

I gently, slowly put my arm over his shoulders, and pull him in to my side. As soon as Michael is in contact with me, he lets go of any walls he still had up. He buries his face in my shoulder, grabs at my shirt, and cries.

I leave that place about ten minutes later (Jake had finished, and he was our ride) with a prostitute's phone number in my pocket, and a drastically altered worldview. I promised Michael I'd come back someday soon, and I planned to keep that promise. I just hoped I could help him. He needed it - and he deserved it.

All those men do.

—

Yeah okay sorry guys, that's like really shitty but I've been working on it forever (like since August) and I really wanted to finally publish it. So... yeah.

I kinda want to make a part 2. What do you guys think?

Okay, well, bye guys! Until next time!

~MM