Alone. Like always. No one else in the room. Just the screams and moans of the porn on the television. I have my usual 7-11 cup with half naked Britney. Went to her concert last night… all of us actually. Behaved rather well -- no fighting, no ass-whopping, no raping -- thank God. I guess we were all too busy drooling and gawking to even care. I must say that her make-up artist did a splendid job of covering up the bruises.nextJust came in my cup. Hurt like a bitch too. Seems like for the past three days I’ve been pissing needles. Maybe I should get that looked at.
Disgusting. I feel like Joey. Mr. STD himself. Jesus, it burns.
Trying to rid my mind of the pain, I turn off the porn and flip through the channels to prevent myself from jacking off. Ohh… it’s the soap channel. Wonder what this is.
Watching… watching… getting bored… still watching… oh. It’s Port Charles. Changing channels.
MTV, VH1, BET, ABC, NBC, E!, FOOD, TLC, FOX, TNT, TBS, CBS, CNN, Discovery… Jesus! There’s too many damn channels! I just want only one. Oh… Lifetime. Television for women.
They’re showing a movie that I saw just a few months ago. It’s about these two teenagers fucking around and popping out a kid. The guy ends up scooping ice cream for a living while going to night school while his friends are fucking around in college.
It’s been a long, boring night for me and I can’t sleep. I jacked off four times, watching every channel for five minutes each and I still can’t find something to make me sleep. Time for project “Desperate.”
Crawl out of bed, not caring that the cup of cum has fallen on the carpet. Get dressed, march out and find some fun.
Check watch.
3:19 am.
Head into the lobby. Whoa. Joey and JC are sitting at a small table in the bar and talking softly. They haven’t seen me. I creep closer just enough to hear their voices.
JC starts. “Tomorrow is finally the last day. Then I can go home.”
Joey. “Home. Now there’s a concept.”
“Where’s Chris?”
“Do you care?”
“Never.”
“Ditto.”
“I'm sleepy.”
“Where’s your playmate?”
“Who?”
“Justin.”
JC’s laughs a bit before taking a swig of his beer. “Dreaming of fucking me. Or Britney. Or better yet, you.”
“Sick. So what do you want to do?"
Silence on JC’s part.
“Underwear.”
“What?”
“I need underwear. These are old.”
“That's nice.”
“Brown spots.”
“Joe.”
“Where’s Justin?”
“Behind us listening.” JC stands up and faces me. I just stand there like an idiot wondering what I should say or do. Smart Timberlake.
Joey turned around and stared straight into my eyes. They were bloodshot and large purple bags hung from beneath them. Gulp. He looked over at JC, “Flip a coin?”
“Nah. He’s all yours.”
“Watch my jump for joy.” He stood up from his chair and walked towards me. “Hey Justin. Your room or mine?”
“Fuck you Fatone.” There was no way I would go back with him and let him fuck up my life more than it already was. I smelled smoke. JC was smoking a cigarette. He grinned at me just as a fist came slamming into my jaw. Black.
I woke up lying in the bathtub. Blood surrounded me. I was naked. I attempted to crawl out but I couldn’t move from the waist down. And my asshole hurt! “Joey! JC!” I couldn’t move so what else was a faggot supposed to do?
Joey stood in the doorway for a minute before jumping on the counter and turned on the faucet. He dropped a wash cloth into the sink as it soaked up the water. He then threw the wet cloth at me, “Clean up.”
“I can’t move.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. JC broke your hip. Either get up or I will rip that little peachy asshole of your again.” He jumped off the counter and walked out.
Asshole. Great… this is going to hurt.