Page 4 of Body and Soul

I shut off the tap and looked at my reflection one more time. Maybe Cherry was right. Maybe I did need another hit just to get me through the rest of the night. Instead, I unwrapped another candy and plopped it on my tongue, letting the artificial colors seep into my blood.

I left the bathroom and walked through the throngs of people waiting in the crowded hallway as if they were decorations and not people. Maybe some were; maybe none of this was real, andI was still in that hot box, waiting to trade my soul for a single ice cube.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be here. My hand went to my head as if I could massage the lingering ache behind my eyes away, but I couldn’t. The only thing that ever made the throbbing static stop, even for a little while, was letting someone use me, use my body. Letting someone hurt me.

I paused on the edge of the main floor and glanced over at the table where I’d left Cherry and Ketchup. They were all tangled up in each other, tongues down each other’s throats. I didn’t want to go back to that, and I didn’t want to go out and dance. I didn’t want to drink or talk or anything. Instead, I had the strangest urge to scratch off all my unmarked skin and bleed.

I needed air.

I retraced my steps down the short hallway, pushing through the double doors beneath the glowing red exit sign into the alley. It was mid-July, still mild for summer in Ohio. Once the sun went down, it was still chilly enough in the shadows that I wished I’d brought a jacket. More than that, I wished I’d taken up a vice like smoking instead of tattoos and the occasional drug or two when I left the cult. At least if I smoked, I’d have an excuse to be out there once someone came looking for me.

Ifanyone came looking for me.

Once Cherry and Ketchup got caught up in each other, the outside world ceased to exist. Those two could suck face for hours and somehow never get bored with it. I didn’t get it, but maybe that was because I wasn’t into romantic shit like making out, movie dates, and whatever normal people did as a prelude to fucking. I didn’t need all that. Relationships were too complicated, too demanding. I didn’t want to have to explain myself and my trauma to someone, only to have them decide we weren’t going to work out for some stupid reason.Simple hookups didn’t come with all those expectations, so I got everything I wanted from an app.

Tonight, I wasn’t sure it’d be enough, but I pulled out my phone and scrolled through profiles, leaning against the club's cool brick façade.

Bottom. Pass.

Looking for friends with benefits. Pass.

Meet at my place? No thanks. I didn’t even have a place technically. At least, not one I didn’t have to share with a roommate.

Fuck, I was literally two feet outside one of the busiest clubs in Columbus. You’d think it would be easy to find someone halfway decent to suck off, but even that was fucking impossible.

A sudden loud bang made my head jerk up as Ketchup stumbled out with Cherry close behind.

“There you are,” Ketchup said, and I rolled my eyes as he wrapped an arm around my neck, grinning wildly. “Thought you might’ve fallen in.”

“If only,” I muttered.

My phone chirped with a notification from Grindr and I froze. Fucking hell, I’d left the volume all the way up.

Ketchup perked and snatched my phone right out of my hand. “Dude, is that Grindr? Are you serious?”

“Give it back.” I tried to grab the phone back, but he turned his back to me.

“Be nice, Gregory,” Cherry said, scolding him using his real name.

“If you wanted to get laid, you could’ve said so instead of coming out here to skulk in the alleyway.”

“I wasn’t skulking!” I tried to grab his arm to get my phone back, but he lifted it above his head and out of my reach. “Come on,Gregory. Give it back! It’s none of your business!”

Cherry plucked the phone out of Ketchup’s grasp, shooting him a look that said he’d be getting punished for that later before holding it out to me. “He’s worried about you, Eli. That’s no way to meet people.”

“Yeah, that app is full of creeps and serial killers.” Ketchup shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know what? We should take him down to Rudy’s. That gay bar on Fifth and High?”

“The country western place?” Cherry faked a gag. “Does he look like he’s into urban cowboys, Ketchup? You’re not, are you?” The last question was directed at me.

I sighed and shoved my phone in my pocket. “Maybe we should go home.”

“Hell no, bro,” said Ketchup, throwing an arm around me again. “I can’t leave my girl’s best bud high and dry on his twenty-third birthday.”

“Twenty fourth.” I pulled away when he started to lead me back toward the club. “And I don’t want to go back in there.”

Cherry put her hand on Ketchup’s shoulder, her eyes gleaming. “You guys, I’ve got an idea.” She leaned in to whisper her idea to her boyfriend.

Ketchup’s face split into a big, white grin. “Oh, I like it, you dirty little girl.”

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