Chapter 5 - Snake Charmer.

It was so easy, at first, to fall into Ethan’s world. He was so charming and charismatic. So enthusiastic about life in general. I was immediately captivated. And in the beginning, when everything was going Ethan’s way, it was all good.

I suppose it’s easy to be happy and charming when everything is going your way. He praised me, complimented me, and seemed interested in everything about me. We laughed and joked around all the time. And since I very rarely turned him down back then, for sex or any other request, there was no reason for him to criticize me or show any anger.

In the beginning everything was rainbows, roses, and unicorns. He played his fiddle and I danced along in his wake as if he were the Pied Piper. Maybe I should’ve paid closer attention to that fairytale when I was a child, though, because like that cautionary children’s tale, my own story was doomed to have an unhappy ending. Someone should’ve reminded me that the Primrose Path is always an illusion. You can ignore the realities of life for only so long before they intrude on your fantasy. And then the unpleasantries of the world come knocking insistently on your door.

So, yeah, when things were going well, Ethan was the most charming person you’d ever met. As long as I was giving him what he wanted - admiration, respect, attention - everything was hunky-dory. Roses fairly grew out of his ass. And he rewarded me during those good times by making me feel cherished and valued beyond anything I’ve experienced before.

But the moment things became difficult, whenever I found even the tiniest bit of fault with him, or when circumstances outside his control went south, that charm and wit could disappear in a snap.

That’s when I realized that the Pied Piper was leading me down a path from which I might never return.

After Brian’s little warning stunt I tried to stay away from Ethan. I really did. I know he hadn’t actually SAID anything - it wasn’t like Brian to make demands or impose restrictions on others - but I knew that had been his way of giving me an unspoken ultimatum. He was doing what he always did, communicating through his actions rather than his words. But the message was clear as day; he knew what I was up to and he wasn’t pleased.

After I’d crawled to the shower and washed Ethan’s stink off me, I emerged from the bathroom determined to fix the mess I’d made. I knew I was the one in the wrong. I was the one who’d broken our rules - again - not Brian. Brian hadn’t ever broken a promise he made to me. And if I didn’t want to lose him, I needed to figure out a way to make it up to him.

That proved difficult, however, because Brian wasn’t there when I finished my shower. I assumed he had gone out to blow off some steam. Probably to Babylon. I was actually glad for the respite, to be honest, and thought I could use the time to think through how I was going approach things with Brian when he returned. Unfortunately, I was asleep before Brian came in that night. He also left without waking me for our usual morning shower fuck the next day. And this pattern carried through for the rest of the week. We barely saw each other and, when we did, there was this chilling emotional distance between us that seemed impenetrable. Even worse, he didn’t touch me all week.

It seemed my punishment wasn’t over yet.

Meanwhile, Ethan refused to give up and leave me alone. The man was persistent as fuck. If I’d thought he was borderline stalking me before, there was no longer any doubt. He literally followed my every step from the moment I arrived on campus every day till I got on the bus to head home. Most days he also turned up on Liberty Avenue after school, watching me surreptitiously from across the street while I was working at the Diner or hiding in the shadows at Woody’s or Babylon when I was out with Brian and the gang. One night, while I was standing at the window having a smoke before heading to bed, I even caught a glimpse of Ethan lurking on the street corner across from the loft. Luckily, he wasn’t looking up when I saw him, so I was able to back away and hide behind the blinds before he saw me, otherwise he’d probably have tried to get me to let him in or something.

No matter how many times I told him I was no longer interested, though, he kept imploring me not to shut him out. To give him another chance. To not throw away our love. He even had the audacity to tell me that he thought he’d die without me; claimed he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t even play his violin, since I’d been gone. He was convincing too. He made me feel even worse than I had before, so now I wasn’t only feeling guilty about cheating on Brian, but also for causing Ethan pain. There I was, ruining two good men’s lives, and I still wasn’t satisfied. I had to be the biggest asshole ever born, right?

Things finally came to a head the morning the shipment of Rage comic books was delivered. Michael and I had been working on this project for months, and I’d really been looking forward to seeing the comic in print, but that accomplishment seemed hollow by the time it arrived. We were at his shop that morning, and we opened the first carton together, marveling at the sight of our creation come to life, so to speak. But, just when we were starting to talk over the possibilities this might lead to, Brian came through the door and brought with him that same air of distant chilliness I’d been suffering under all week. Suddenly, all the fun of seeing my comic in print evaporated and I once again felt uncomfortable and depressed.

Even Brian’s announcement about the marketing extravaganza he’d arranged to help launch the comic seemed to fall flat. Yeah, the party at Babylon he’d planned sounded great, and the advertising was spot on, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was all an extravagant bandaid slapped on top of our ailing relationship at the last minute. I was probably reading too much into it, I know. Brian had undoubtedly been planning this for weeks. In my mind, though, it felt like he was trying to buy my appeasement since he couldn’t show me love in any other way.

So I thanked Brian politely, promised I’d see him later that night, said goodbye to Michael, and then quickly made my exit with the excuse that I needed to get to class. Of course Ethan was there within moments after I stepped off the bus at PIFA and, without really even thinking about it, I gave into him that time. I let him lead me away to his  apartment. We skipped all our classes, spending the whole day in his bed, making love over and over.

Yes, I know it was stupid. Yes, I realize it was a huge mistake. I don’t have any excuse other than that I was weak and lazy. It seemed like the easiest course of action to give in to Ethan just then. I thought he was offering me what I needed. And I was still so hurt by Brian’s cold-shouldered, blatantly transactional, approach to our relationship, that I was a total pushover for Ethan’s more overt sentimentalism. So sue me; I was young and confused and way too easy to manipulate. But even I didn’t realize the full consequences of my actions back then.

That afternoon still stands out in my memory as an almost perfectly idyllic moment. With the golden spring sunlight streaming in through the windows and gilding the room, it almost seemed like a fairytale scene. Ethan was SO attentive. He pulled out all the stops to make it seem like I was the center of his universe. He worshipped my body. He offered me compliments and caresses and made me feel like a pampered princess. Did I mention how charming Ethan is when he wants to be? That afternoon his charm meter was turned up to ten. And I ate it all up, reveling in my moment in the sun.

It wasn’t until later in the day, lying there watching the dust motes drifting in and out of the rays still peeking through the windows, that the fantasy started to crumble. Ethan had cracked open a bottle of cheap white wine which he’d mixed with cranberry juice so as to make it drinkable, and we were sprawled atop the cum-stained bed covers as we sipped. His one hand was lazily playing in my pubes, creating spiral towers by twirling the curly hairs together in random patterns. I was too fucked out by that point to respond beyond the occasional approving purr. Which is when Ethan started pressing me for more.

“So, tell me . . . does your boyfriend make love to you like that?” he asked in a lazy, gloating drawl.

I had no interest whatsoever in answering that particular question. That was a completely unfair comparison to make. Brian was more than nine inches fully hard and his dick had a nice heft to it as well. He also knew exactly what to do with those nine inches. Ethan, on the other hand, was . . . adequate. He had a respectable seven inches or so, but his dick was slender and didn’t do much to fill me up. Even when he was concentrating solely on me, like he had been that afternoon, his sexual skills didn’t really stand up to Brian’s. But, then again, that’s not what I wanted from Ethan. If all I had wanted was a nice thick dick up my ass, I would never have left Brian’s bed. What I thought I wanted at the time was something much more esoteric. I wanted LOVE, or at least the outward trappings of love.

Of course, I wan’t about to insult Ethan by trying to explain that to him, so I simply shrugged and chuckled noncommittally. Blinded by his ego, like always, Ethan chose to accept my non-answer as assent. Of course I agreed that he was the best lover ever, why wouldn’t I? In Ethan’s mind, his opinion was always correct and he only heard people who agreed with him, all others were ignored.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Baby,” he quietly rejoiced and then toasted himself before drinking down the last of his glass of wine. “So tell me about him. What’s he like? Tell me all the ways I’m better than him.”

That demand caused me to snort, but I managed to hide my reaction in my glass of wine. The word ‘hubris’ came to mind. You definitely couldn’t fault Ethan for a lack of self-regard. But I wasn’t going to talk about Brian with my ‘piece on the side’, no matter how angry I was at him. Ethan might enjoy the challenge of trying to steal me away from Brian, but I certainly wasn’t going to indulge him by offering tips on how better to accomplish his goals.

Ethan took my wine glass away and set it on the floor next to the bed, then rearranged himself so he was lying with his head on my abdomen. He pulled my arm around so it was lying atop his chest and laced our fingers together. I could almost see the wheels in his head churning as he thought through the next step in his plan of seduction before he finally spoke.

“So, this Friday, instead of going club-hopping with your boyfriend, why don’t you drive to the country with me?” he suggested. “We’ll park under the stars and we’ll watch the meteor shower.” He lifted our conjoined hands above his head and wiggled our fingers together to demonstrate the falling stars he was promising me.

Put on the spot like that, I was finally forced to give him an actual answer. “I can’t. He’s giving me a party.”

“Don’t tell me he finally decided he believes in birthdays.” Ethan laughed at his own joke and I playfully slapped him in the head to get him to stop.

“No. It’s for the comic book,” I explained.

That got Ethan’s attention. He hadn’t really shown much interest in my comic book earlier - probably because it had nothing to do with him - except to comment on how proud he was of me for putting my talent to work like that. Now that he heard Brian was involved with the comic, though, Ethan was suddenly intrigued. I suppose he must have thought that if Brian was interested in the comic, he should be too, at least enough to counter his rival’s attentions.

Ethan twisted around so that he was propped up on one elbow, peering down at me from above, and pried deeper into the matter. “He must love you a lot.”

What was I supposed to say to that? It was such a random thing to say. It felt like he was again trying to get me to compare his love to that which Brian showed me. It made me very uncomfortable.

“In his way,” I responded vaguely.

“But not in yours,” Ethan added, turning the sentence into a statement of fact rather than a question and, at the same time, reaching over to caress my face in a possessive manner, as if to assert that only HE knew how to love me in the right fashion.

When I didn’t reply one way or the other, Ethan leaned in and kissed me to cover up the moment of silence. I must not have returned the gesture enthusiastically enough, though, because Ethan sighed and rolled back until he was lying flat again. I used the break to extricate myself, rolling out of bed as I announced, “I have to go.”

Even without looking at Ethan I could tell he was annoyed that I was again leaving him to return to Brian. Who could blame him, right? Although, it’s not like I had ever promised him anything or even suggested that I would leave Brian. But he kept pressing, nonetheless.

I was only half dressed when he crawled out of bed, walked over to his computer and then turned towards me with yet another gift in hand. “My latest CD. You’re the first person to have it,” he offered, handing me the CD in its casing.

I immediately noticed the cover art. “You used my drawing!”

He gave me a smug smile with a little shrug and directed me to, “check out the back.”

I flipped the case over. There was the usual list of the songs included on the CD along with all the typical disclaimers and legal notices. What immediately stood out, however, was the title at the top. It said only, ‘For Justin’.

“For Justin?” I read it again, this time aloud, blushing at the silly compliment.

Ethan stood there, so proud of himself, waiting for me to offer up the gratitude he knew this gesture merited. What could I do? I WAS flattered. So I kissed him . . . And ended up staying another hour before I finally took my leave.

The next few days were busy. I had a million and one things to do to get ready for the Rage launch party, not to mention a ton of homework and assignments to catch up on after my day of playing hooky with Ethan. This meant I only got to say a brief ‘hello’ to my musician before running off each day on my various errands. He was still following me around though, and I’d often find him playing on various street corners at random times, pretty much any time I wasn’t in class or studying.

On Thursday afternoon I was late to work because I’d had to wait around for a professor who’d asked me to come by his office to give him a status update on my term project. I half expected Ethan to still be waiting for me outside the Fine Arts building when I left. When I didn’t see him, I figured it was because the weather had turned colder that day, with a late spring snowstorm blowing through, and he’d probably given up waiting. So I hurried off down the street, catching the next bus downtown, and arriving at the Diner only about fifteen minutes past the time my shift had been scheduled to start.

I was in such a hurry when I came through the door, I almost didn’t notice Brian sitting at one of the booths till I was almost on top of him. It was still only late afternoon, so I really hadn’t expected to see him. He was, of course, dressed in his Armani best, looking every bit like the successful businessman he was. For a moment I was deceived by his unexpected appearance and happy that he’d seemingly made a special trip to see me. A flash of hope that maybe we’d make up speared through my heart.

That only lasted the few seconds it took me to approach the booth.

“Brian!” I greeted him heartily. “Brian, I thought you’d be at work still . . .”

Then I noticed the person sitting across from him and my stomach did an uncomfortable flip flop that left me slightly nauseous.

“We’re just having a business meeting,” Brian declared gesturing towards his guest . . . a shell-shocked looking Ethan. “Justin, this is Ethan. Ethan, Justin,” he introduced us.

I almost dropped the jacket I’d just taken off when I’d come in from outside. Ethan’s expression had morphed from shock to anger as he looked from me to Brian and back. I could tell he suspected I’d somehow set him up, although how that was possible when I’d had no idea he’d dare to follow me all the way to my work this time, I didn’t know.

Brian, meanwhile, sported a perfectly neutral expression, like he had no clue what he’d just done. I didn’t buy it for a minute. Brian was too cool a customer for that. I knew he knew about Ethan, I just hadn’t known how much he knew. Although, when I thought about it, I remembered that the new CD Ethan had given me only days before - the one with my artwork on the cover which was titled ‘For Justin’ - had mysteriously gone missing that morning. One guess how that had happened. Yeah, this chance meeting had all the earmarks of yet another ‘lesson’ arranged for me by my controlling non-boyfriend.

It worked, too. I felt like a rabbit caught between two birds of prey; I wasn’t sure which one would devour me first, but I knew I was toast either way. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, looking back and forth between the two men who I was currently sleeping with, while my mind remained perfectly blank. Ethan looked confused, like he wasn’t accustomed to being played with. Brian smiled at us both with that fake innocent smile he always used on his clients or his horrible mother. And we might have all gone on like that forever, an awkward triangle of guilt, if Ethan hadn’t finally picked up his violin case and started to slide out of the booth.

“I gotta get to class,” Ethan stated, directing a momentary flash of anger my way as he got to his feet.

I might have said something then - apologizing or pleading for mercy, I don’t know which - if Brian hadn’t interrupted again. “By the way, if you’re interested, the job’s yours.”

Ethan stopped in his tracks, looked back over his shoulder at Brian as if trying to figure him out, then frowned disdainfully before he silently turned and left. I could tell by the set of his shoulders Ethan was pissed as hell - at me or at Brian, I couldn’t yet tell. When I turned back to Brian, I could see his mask of indifference had finally fallen away, leaving me a glimpse of the pain and regret he was hiding inside. But it was a defiant regret, one he would never offer repentance for. And, in the end, he looked away without saying another word to me.

He was waiting for me at the loft when I finished my shift at the Diner. I’d spent the entire four hours I was working thinking of how I was going to approach him. At first I was going to go with accusations and anger, but that mood quickly dissipated. I knew that crying and throwing myself on his mercy would be useless - Brian had nothing but contempt for those who didn’t stand up for themselves. But what did that leave me? In the end, I decided to go with a plea for forgiveness and hope for the best.

“Brian, I’m sorry,” were the first words out of my mouth. “I didn’t mean for it to happen . . .”

And Brian, of course, proceeded to mock my apology. All the rest of my carefully prepared speech was immediately forgotten. He never could be serious about emotional shit. So, instead of actually talking about what had happened, and maybe even working out some of our problems, Brian proceeded to turn it all into a joke.

“So, how big is his dick?”

“That has nothing to do with it,” I spat.

“Since when?” he queried, jumping up to stop me when I started to walk away. “You love cock.” He gave me a little peck on my cheek. “You love it down your throat.” He shoved his hand down the front of my jeans and began to fondle me. “You love it up your ass. You love riding it.” He was slowly stroking me and I was already getting aroused despite my simmering anger. “And after you come, you love to fall asleep with it still inside you.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he purred the final words.

However, I wasn’t amused or in the mood to play games. “Cut it out,” I demanded, pulling his hand out of my pants. “Cut it out!”

“You’re hard.”

“So?”

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

I pushed him away. Brian let me. He turned and walked into the kitchen, pretending to look for something in the fridge.

“There ARE other things,” I insisted.

“Flowers? Picnics?” he asked. Then his eyes darted to the kitchen counter where the missing CD was now waiting in full view. “Violin music?” he sneered.

He was taunting me and, all of a sudden, I’d just had enough. “He LOVES me,” I insisted, finally voicing the thing that had been bottled up in my throat so long it was a wonder I hadn’t strangled on it already.

Brian closed the fridge door and then paused a moment before facing me again. “Your dreamy-eyed schoolboy?”

“In ways that you can’t.”

“In ways that I won’t,” Brian corrected, now looking at me with a resigned sadness that sucked the anger right out of me.

“He told me that I’m all he wants,” I tried again, foolishly hoping that I might provoke some spark of reactionary emotion.

But Brian never was one to play games by anyone else’s rules. “They’re still using that one?” he teased dismissively.

I was choking back tears by that point, all but assured that I wasn’t going to get the ending I wanted, yet still not ready to give up. “It’s more than you’ve ever said,” I pressed.

Brian moved close enough to reach for me, taking my face in his big strong hands. The hands that had always, before, made me feel so secure. And then he broke me.

“And it’s more than I ever will.” Brian leaned even closer, his forehead touching my temple and his words dropping to a husky baritone whisper. “So . . . Uh . . . What the fuck are you still doing here?”

I gasped, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I refused to let him see me cry, though. I wasn’t going to let him see the full depth of the pain he’d caused me. And if he wanted me gone, he was going to have to have the balls to say it.

“Would you care if I wasn’t?” My voice cracked as I asked the question but at least I got it out.

He straightened up and looked me in the eye, his calmness making me even more frantic because I could tell I’d already lost him. “It’s your call where you want to be,” he declared, abdicating all responsibility for whatever was happening to us. “You decide.”

And then he just turned his back and walked away.

So, Brian, in his infinite wisdom, gave me the right to decide my own fate and left me with no choice. I mean, how could I stay with him after that? He as much as told me that he would never love me. He would never give me what it was I needed. Or at least what I thought I needed at the time. He refused to even say he’d miss me if I were gone.

When I walked out the door without saying another word, Brian didn’t even look up from his computer.

I raced across town as fast as the the public transportation system would take me, ending up at Ethan‘s door and still not having any clue what I was going to say. Luckily, I was still managing to hold back my tears, hanging onto the tendrils of my anger in an effort to stave off my spiraling emotions. And I was even more glad of that fact when Ethan finally opened the door, clearly in the middle of a towering rage.

“Your boyfriend is an asshole!” he screamed at me the minute I was inside and the door closed behind us.

“He’s not an asshole,” I immediately rushed to defend him, not even sure in my own mind why. “He’s honest . . . If . . . if anyone’s an asshole, I am, for lying.”

Unable to counter that assertion of fact, Ethan immediately switched tacks. “How did he find out?” As if that really mattered when we were both clearly guilty and had already been caught red-handed.

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask him?”

“He’d never tell me.”

This seemed to incense Ethan even more for some inexplicable reason. “Well you can tell him, from me, that he can keep his fucking donation to the arts,” he insisted, and tossed the $100 tip Brian had given him at my feet.

“Wait. He can afford to give it away. You can’t.” I held the bill out towards Ethan as he paced past me, swigging wine directly from a dusty bottle.

Ethan huffed a derisive scoff and sneered down at me. “At least now I know why you’re with him. Fuck, he’s beautiful!” he declared, the words coming out in an almost hungry growl. “He must be great in bed.”

Again with trying to compare himself to Brian? What did he expect me to say? I was tired from all the day’s shit and I wasn’t going to lie just to stroke Ethan’s ego.

“Yeah, he is.”

Not unexpectedly, my response didn’t go over so well. Ethan’s face contorted with anger and he reached out to snatch back the money I was still holding in my hand. I should’ve just got up and left then but, me and my big heart, I felt like I had to at least try and make things right. I’d already left one man angry at me that night; I didn’t need to alienate Ethan is well.

“It’s when we’re NOT in bed that’s the problem,” I tried to explain.

But apparently that wasn’t the correct answer because Ethan turned on me, set his wine bottle down on the milk crate that substituted for an end table, and snarled at me with such venom I almost didn’t recognize him.

“Well guess what? I’m not the answer. I have myself to think about.” He spun around and started shuffling through his sheet music as he continued to speak with his back to me. “The Heifitz competition is coming up. There’s a $25,000 first prize, touring dates, even a possible recording contract. I can’t be wasting my time thinking about YOU. Wishing that you were here. Hoping that tonight is going to be the night that you finally stay.”

“I want to stay,” I asserted, knowing that this time it was the truth.

“Well you can’t.” He shot me down so fast it left my head spinning. “You can’t! So just go back to your boyfriend!” I’d never seen Ethan so savage before and it actually scared me. “And I’ll go back to my violin.”

He picked up his instrument, tucked it under his chin, and proceeded to scrape the bow across the strings with such viciousness that the noise would’ve drowned out any protest I might’ve thought to make.

“Ethan. Ethan!” I tried to yell over the music, to no avail.

He had his back turned towards me and ignored my very presence. It was clear I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him like that. And once again, I was left to make a decision without having any real choice in the matter. So much for my failed attempt at romance, huh?

I turned around, tail between my legs, left behind my irate lover, and made my way back to the loft where I hoped I would still find a place to sleep for the night, if not true acceptance or love.

At least Brian hadn’t already changed the locks on the door. I slid the giant metal panel door open as quietly as I could and slipped inside. The only lights on in the loft were the security lights by the door and the small light over the kitchen sink - a sign Brian must’ve at least hoped I’d be coming back, because those were the lights we usually left on when one of us returned earlier than the other. Peering through the gloom of the darkened room, I could see Brian outlined by a moon beam illuminating his side of the bed. He was awake and there didn’t appear to be any other bodies in the bed with him. I supposed that was a good sign, for whatever it was worth.

Brian didn’t get up or say a word as I slowly padded across the floor and up the steps into the bedroom. He just looked at me. I didn’t see any expectation or judgment in his eyes, they just looked blank. Which, in a way, was good, because I’d already had enough humiliation for one night. And, since I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I took a deep breath, tried to bolster whatever fortitude I had left, and started to undress.

Brian remained silent the whole time, but when I had stripped down to only my briefs, I hesitated. Was I really going to do this? Did I have no shame at all? Was I seriously going to crawl after a man who had virtually dismissed me just a few hours before?

I almost changed my mind, but half a second before I was about to turn around and give up for good, Brian actually made a small gesture of reconciliation. Silently, without his expression changing a wit, he reached across and lifted the covers up on my side of the bed. The invitation was clear. So I swallowed my pride and crawled into bed next to him. Once I’d lain down, facing away from Brian with my head on the pillow, he resolutely pulled the covers up over me. Then he scooted close enough to spoon me, draping his arm across my body and resting his hand against the bare skin of my forearm so his fingers could tickle along the sensitive skin there.

It was a familiar stance - we’d slept that way a hundred times before - but this time it felt so alien to me that my skin was crawling. I knew I didn’t belong there any more. The problem was I didn’t belong anywhere. No one wanted me. My parents hadn't wanted me. Brian hadn’t really wanted me either; he only took me in after the bashing because my mother asked him to. Now Ethan didn’t want me either. I had nowhere to go and no one to go to. And at that low moment in my life, I thought I’d reached rock bottom.

So I laid there the rest of the night, unable to sleep, silent tears drenching my pillow, wondering how I’d managed to screw my life up so badly and where I would go come morning.