Page 29 of Bottoms Up
I closed my eyes and let the sound of leather on skin echo through me. My body ached for it. My mindcravedthe surrender. But I’d chosen this, and I’d wear this role like armor and fucking deal with it.
I could survive nine months with Julian, seeing him every day, spending time with him, a hell of a lot easier than I’d survive him being sent somewhere else, where I wouldn’t know what was being done to him, and likely wouldn’t be allowed any contact at all.
But the bottom line was that Marco worried someone else might break him rather than shape him, and no way in Hell could I risk that.
As promised, Ghost opened the curtains and blinds on the two biggest windows when the rain came down in earnest, and I looked out on the mountains, the ocean, and the city — all in one view.Magnificent.
That night, we rode through Rio in the back of a limo, the windows down, city lights flickering off wet pavement. The rain had stopped hours earlier, leaving the air clean and sharp, a half-moon hanging low in the sky.
We were taken to the festival grounds, close enough to see the main stage, and we moved from the limo onto golf carts waiting to take us the rest of the way.
The moment we stepped out, I felt it — that buzz of barely contained chaos, the electricity of eight hundred thousand bodies primed for a show that would rattle their bones and light up their memories. Magic only live music can create. The crowd was already wild, and we hadn’t even made it to the stage.
I was flying high on the thrill of it when we ended our set with a crowd favorite, and Will clearly felt the same, center stage with his feet at the very edge of the front, sweat soaked, belting out the final chorus like his life depended on it. When Mikey stood and stepped around his kit, Hailey handed her guitar to him and catapulted herself to the front of the stage with a roundoff-back-handspring into an aerial flip, and the crowd’s roar shook the metal scaffolding holding the stage.
My smile spread from ear to ear, and I basked in the energy of the night, the crowd, the heat, the fucking magic of a perfect night, a fantabulous set with people I’m meant to make music with. This —this— is what it means to be alive.
Ghost was waiting at the edge of the stage for Hailey, and Davy and Micca were waiting for Will when we climbed down.
Did I want Julian waiting for me? I did, but it was okay that he wasn’t. He used to be a performer, and I worried that giving him constant reminders of what he’d lost might hurt him. It would bother me, I think, to no longer be able to perform. It’s such a big part of my life, and I love it. I want to still be performing at eighty, and there are plenty of aging rock bands who still go on tour, so it was absolutely a possibility.
Though, it might not be if I was turned into a vampire. I mean, I’d likely be able to keep it up until I turned fifty or so, maybe later if the creams and surgeries got even better than they are now. Seventy would probably be a stretch, though.
But the payoff — to live forever, or at least until someone kills me — would be worth it. Right?
I spent a good part of the flight home reworking the contract I wanted Julian to sign. It was only the umpteenth time I’d gone through it and made changes, but I wanted it to be perfect.
Marco had texted me daily updates, and he’d told me on the second day he felt certain Julian was going to agree to it. He’d also let me know the gist of Julian’s sessions with Dr. Woods.
Basically, Julian had thought he’d forgiven his parents for selling him to the opera, but he hadn’t, and Dr. Woods had helped him see he’s still pissed at his parents, at fate, at the people who ran the opera.
Especially the doctor who’d been responsible for the vocalists. The one who’d raped Julian’s formerly-virgin ass about ten minutes after he’d rolled his testicles flat that first time. Later, he’d raped him beforeandafter. Every time. Every third day. Forweeks.
And once that first rape happened, he was open season, so any of the adults over him could bend him over and take him whenever they wanted.
I could understand the sick, twisted purpose — once he was on stage in a leading role, the opera company whored him out after shows to whoever offered the highest price, so teaching him he didn’t own his body at an early age made his sexual training easier when he was older and had to learn how to please men and women in every way imaginable. Easier on him, them, everyone. The whole thing was fucked up, and I wished I didn’t understand it as much as I did…
No, that wasn’t accurate. I was an adult the first time someone broke me to be the kind of slave they wanted, but still, understanding as someone who’s been trained to that extent was going to help me be the kind of Top Julian would need.
And it seems Dr. Woods knew his shit, because there’d been a breakthrough on their second session. Small when compared to everything he still needed to deal with, but still substantial.
Julian realized, after Dr. Woods asked him questions until it clicked — that if his parents hadn’t sold him, if the opera had never happened, if all the terrible shit that followed had never come to pass, if he’d lived a normal life in his little village, he’d be dead. Long gone. He’d no longer exist.
Instead, he was alive and on the verge of gaining his freedom. Maybe with a thousand, two thousand, even five thousand more years ahead of him.
He wasn’t quite ready to thank his parents, the opera managers, or the doctor who’d destroyed him, but he could see a time when he might get there.
Once he was free, once he could build a name of his own, he planned to perform again. Every few hundred years, he’d find his way back to the stage.
And if I could live that long life with him? Could we maybe, someday, figure out how to get onto a stage together?
Marco wanted me to talk to Dr. Woods about my plans for the scene to destroy Julian’s balls all over again, and I had an appointment with him the morning after the plane landed.
Also, a small piece of good news, Julian had passed whatever test he’d had to take with flying colors, so he could go out without a vampire escort now. He’d still have security, but it was good he’d far exceeded the base requirements. Based on what I’d seen in our meeting, it felt like the boost to his self-confidence could only help.
Meanwhile, I was focused on the contract, and I put a few things in specifically so I could agree to scratch them off the list when he argued against them.
But there were a lot of things I wasn’t prepared to negotiate away. The list of things Marco wanted had to stay, of course, but Julian already knew about those items.
