SLAYER

The disadvantage to the days her paranoia was higher than others, to a point that she almost obsessed over every movement that someone made in her general direction, was feeling like she was being recognized morphed into the assumption that someone knew who the blonde truly was. Where she came from, where she ate her last meal, where she works, what time her next shoot or her next shift starts. Today was one of those days, minding her own business on the subway where she was seated en route to her shoot for the film of the day and busy texting on her phone, and yet all the while she could sense someone’s eyes cutting into her. Whenever people stared for too long, she was reminded of the way he used to be when it got bad, like he could cut through her soul with a simple glance. Nancy was far too strong for that, wielding the power of her own personal army and the resilience of ten thousand foot-soldiers, but it didn’t halt the incoming signal in her head of you’re in trouble! Get off at the next stop! Lifting her gaze from her phone when it was as if it was as if the past could manifest in a physical form despite all her logical reasoning, she narrowed her amber gaze. No, they were listening to music. Taking a breath to steady herself, she looked over when she caught a whiff of food from the person next to her to distract her thoughts. It was growing into a go-to comfort, food. “May I ask what you’re eating? It smells goddamn amazing.”

After a long day of shooting an extreme scene the best way to unwind is by ravaging on a huge sized hoagie and Thomas knows that by heart. It’s not recommended by the crew but he wanted to treat himself tonight since he had worked all week without rest and he no longer wanted to let himself get entertained by the thought of alcohol. Instead he used food so that his mind would not linger. He was looking like an animal right now but he didn’t care. He had starved himself for nearly three hours he deserved this. His chewing must have caught the attention of his coworker. His favorite if he had to say but he was never the type to admit his feelings outloud. Thomas then chuckled while he looked at her. “Triple cheese and bacon. Greasiest shit ever. Want a bite?” He asked as he looked at her. Nancy brought him butterflies still but he’d rather not say it. She seemed a bit too intimidating and he couldn’t reach her level with his bashfulness. 

“A name generator? I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but the name would be more suiting for a solo artist, not one who collaborates.” She said, smiling. She was only killing time before her class later. It didn’t make sense to go home, so she usually stuck around the area. “To be quite honest, I wasn’t aware New York had an industry. But I suppose it could be anywhere. I always viewed it as a Los Angeles business. Does it ruin sex outside of work? I’ve always wanted to ask someone that.”

“That’s correct.” He laughed and continued. “I have been meaning to come up with a new one anyway.” He wasn’t good with names. He found the one he had now out of pure luck and mindless browsing on the internet anything that would make him sound clever. “Of course it does. It’s a small studio. A subsdiary of Lucas Entertainment that functions in Manhattan though it’s no longer exclusive to gay pornography. They’ve been expanding to say at least.” He explained. “It’s different for everyone but it doesn’t bother my sex life in the slighest. I find myself craving less outside of work though.” 

The abrasive attitude she sported was a way to keep herself protected from as much harm as she could, her dour toward life sending people scattering. If she disliked someone, she had no qualms telling it to their face and risking the potential of any kind of backlash. Unlike many of her costars in the area, she had never taken enjoyment out of the industry itself, preferring to be at home in bed if she could. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case most days, and she needed to carry around a water bottle replaced with vodka or gin to carry her through it. You love that name, don’t you? “I actually hate it,” she muttered, “I like the real you better. He’s way more genuine.” A sincere compliment like that rarely fled her lips, except for, perhaps, to her closer friends that she held near and dear to her heart. Lowering her defenses around anyone was considerably difficult, and though Thomas had been nothing but kind, she tried to keep their relationship professional with the occasional side of small talk filtering into it. Like now, when he was chatting her up about some mundane, spirituality mumbo-jumbo about thinking less about others’ behavior. No one would understand her paranoia without revealing secrets she didn’t want compromised. “Hey, you were the one fucking watching it in the park, nobody can blame me for thinking about it now.” Her mouthful of food was spoken around muffledly, taking out the other half of her sandwich and shoving it in his direction almost happily when he asked about it. The less she ate, the better, and thankfully she hadn’t opted to purchase a bag of chips with it. At his next words, the redhead’s eyes morphed into wide saucers, looking at him as if he had grown two heads. “Huh?” she asked when she’d swallowed the bite of her sandwich, thoroughly perplexed, “Why the fuck would you want to take me out to dinner? What’s this all about?”

“Really?” That was quite new to him. Most people preferred his alter ego. The one who had everything wrapped around his finger and could beckon anyone to do his bidding with a promise of wonderful sex in return. The next James Deen as many of his coworkers had spoken and called him. Not like his real self was terrible in any way. Only a lot more normal. He was just a recovering alcoholic who liked to stay around in his apartment block and study over his work. He guessed he was genuine and humble just like he said but of course everybody would rather see the thrilling side of him. “Real me is a bit boring though. Just your everyday guy.” He thought he was fine with that. It all balanced out at the end. He couldn’t keep using the personality that did not match his at all. That’s where people would have identity crisis and Thomas would rather avoid that as much as it was possible. “I guess that’s true. Still we shouldn’t magnify others perceptions of us too much.” He said shrugging his shoulders hoping he could help her take her mind off of it or whatever fear that she might have had. The reply to his offer made him blush. Shit he should’ve done that better. “Nothing. I just thought it would be nice. I have been wanting to do that in awhile. I really enjoy your company.” He said. “I hope it doesn’t so weird.” He added quickly. 

“Master Bates, clever.” Nita smiled. Looking at him, hearing and seeing what he did, it made her feel broken. She was on so many high dosage drugs now, things to keep her calm and her serotonin intact, but her libido had diminished almost entirely. He was perfectly handsome, and she felt nothing. “Hardcore, how so?”

“Got it from Buzz Feeds porn name generator.” He said laughing softly. Thomas wasn’t as creative or cocky as his alter ego most of his charm only came from his on screen persona. Though he had definitely taken roles where he could be more like himself. Around attractive people he was more shy and humble. Like now. “I haven’t done anything vanilla in years.” He said with another laugh. “Threesomes. Bondages. Foursomes. It’s actually tiring. Fun but tiring. I don’t think I remember what mundane sex is like anymore.” He admitted.

Matt was used to weird because he was weird, his relationship was weird, his accent was weird, and so was the rest of his personality. So, when he came across a man seemingly watching porn while sitting on a park bench, he thought it was weird, but paid it no mind. That man had his dick in his pants and didn’t seem to be doing any harm. You could only see the video if you were looking, and Matt was, but with the added headphones you couldn’t tell what was going on. Considering it was straight porn, Matt had very little interest, but the man was hot and he couldn’t stop watching. “Oh!” Matt squeaked, looking away with cheeks flushed bright red. “It is weird, but I think it is ok…if that is you, you do it nice. I think. I don’t know.”

The squeak startled Thomas but the blush only his face earned a smile. He didn’t seem to think of him as a pervert or anything which was quite relieving considering that Thomas was anything but that. He was just dumb probably. He looked over to the other man and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He was adorable. “Thanks for the flattery at least. I really appreciate it. Really not in the mood to be shouted at for a misunderstanding.” He said with a smile. He couldn’t help thinking he might have seen him before. Perhaps en route to this bench or maybe he had noticed this person sitting next to him before he got caught. He wondered if he had been watching this entire time. “I was just trying to look for mistakes. I’m kind of a perfectionist.” Then teasingly he added. “Would you ike to watch to rest of it?” 

Thomas was one of the very few people that knew Kiera’s actual name. Even those she worked with in the adult film industry, directors or actors alike, firmly knew her only by Lucille or Lucy, and she preferred to keep it that way, fearful word would come back around to the man in Las Vegas who had almost stripped her of her life. Too paranoid she would be  tossed back into the sex trafficking side of the industry, shackled up or abused. On the other hand, she was as frigid with him as the next person outside of filming together; work was work and when it was over, that was it, nor was the sex really all that enjoyable for her. But it was all she knew now, therefore the redhead stuck with it. Nevertheless, Thomas had always been kind to her and over time, it built some semblance of trust. “Oh, fuck off, everyone has off days. You did fine, Master Bates,” she said, tone softening to something a bit more teasing at the very end, though it made her grimace when he wasn’t looking. Gross. “You always want that. You know what I want? To eat my chicken sandwich without worrying other people are jerking off to me in the park.” Taking a bite from said sandwich, the redhead wasn’t actually sure how much she would eat. If she ate it all, she would probably convince herself to throw it up later, but for now she needed the strength. Shaking her head when he questioned her, she didn’t bother lifting her hand while talking with her mouth full, not giving a damn about her manners, “No, I’m not filming. I’m working at the club tonight and I have a photoshoot tomorrow morning.” Or rather, she’d been told she was working at the club tonight, and she couldn’t turn that down, which meant she made room in her schedule.

At Kieras teasing Thomas couldn’t help chuckling under his breath. Kiera was very abrasive but that’s just another thing he liked about her. She didn’t take shit from anyone unlike some of his other female costars who just seemed to enjoy throwing themselves around and then calling it empowerment or whatever. He liked how professional Kiera was and how she was comfortable enough to tell him her real name. If anything it made him feel special. “You love that name don’t you? You know I actually got that from Buzz Feed. I was in a desperate need for a unique one. I didn’t want it to sound too serious.” Although he was serious in every other departent. He smiled when she continued on talking. “Life is easier when you think less of what other people do. I was like that too before but it’s a price to pay for the job that we take.” He was sure all of his dignity had been scraped away a long time ago when he signed up for all of this. It made him a bit sad sometimes but he grew a thick skin and tried not to let it bother him. “Is that sandwich good?” He hadn’t eaten much. He had his diet meal in the morning but he was sure all of that had been burned off when he had to do his daily morning jog earlier. Nodding his head he paused. There was a light blush on his face for what he was about to say next. “Are you free after?” He asked. “I was thinking maybe I could take you out to dinner or something. I’ve cleared up all of my shoots for the day so I have nothing else to do for tonight.” He said almost shyly. “What do you say?”

Glancing at the man when he stood up, reflexes kicking in, the artist recoiled and flinched with the sudden movement, jaded gaze round with surprise. Relief flooded his system to realize he’d merely been considering helping him, although Orion steadfastly clung to his independence as he collected his belongings and placed them beside him, diligent but disorganized. His confidence had been building lately, yet he still had his moments, and he was certain that sudden movements would always startle him into a panic, afraid he needed to roll himself into a tight ball and hide himself away. The stranger clearly respected privacy, at least, for he backed off and allowed him the space to finish gathering what had tumbled from his bag. A few crumpled papers at the bottom, none of them important anymore, were stuffed into the trashcan beside the bench, reading the flavor on the lollipop and decidedly slipping it into the pocket of his jeans, figuring his wife might want it. Plucking a few pencils that had fallen into the bag, likely due to his carelessness when he was struggling internally with the nagging in his head, he set them on top of the sketchbooks, puffing out his cheeks and turning the bag upside down to shake out while the man spoke. “Art is… art, regardless of whether your audience gets off to it, it is not my place to judge what you do for a living,” Orion replied thoughtfully, glancing at him, “Everything has the less glamorous sides, oui?” Collecting the freed objects, he decided most of it was able to be tossed, focusing on the older male when he handed the bag to him. After a moment, he looked down at it, biting his lip, drifting his thumb over the scar below his lower lip, hidden by the patch of facial hair. He’d slowly been easing out of his habit of covering his scar with the goatee covering the worst of it. “Um… Do I– What do I owe you? For borrowing it?” he asked then, brow furrowing, assuming that would be the case. Better to know now than find out about it later, he thought, a spark of paranoia jolting through him. Unzipping the pocket of his own bag, he produced a business card for the tattoo shop, holding it out to him, saying softly, “You can pick it up in the afternoon tomorrow, I go in around eleven. The doors may not be open yet, but you can knock.” Clearing his throat to adjust his volume, Orion glanced at the bag again before starting to pack it with his art books and craft supplies. “Orion. Lovely to meet you, Thomas,” he said, enunciating his words through his French accent, pushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear and gesturing toward himself as he spoke his name.

Thomas could tell by the way this young man spoke that he was an artist of his own. While Thomas considered what he did art he never pegged himself as an actual artist for some reason. It could have been due to the general population thinking he was just some dirty horny thing they could just jerk off to or he just thought of himself as someone who was involved in the game but not exactly anyone who could make a significant difference to it. Being a director was one of his biggest aspirations but he had been stuck where he was for too long he didn’t think he could ever climb up any farther in his career. His colleagues did mention he shouldn’t branch out his expertise and stay with them instead. Porn directors or directors in general was not a favorable path and if he wanted to succeed he would have to get down and do some dirty work that could bring down his competitions. After elbowing his old competitors in porn himself he thought doing it all over again would take up too much effort. He was content with where he was or so he tried to tell himself just that. “That’s true. Though honestly the glamorous sides of the porn industry are almost nonexistent.” He said with a laugh that didn’t have any humor in it. “You get to meet a lot of interesting people who honestly don’t give two shits about what you look like underneath your fancy clothes so long as you have all the assets and you get to laugh about the things you’ve done together. The income pays the bills. You get invited to nice after parties sometimes but that’s honestly just about it.” He said with a lift of his shouders as he just stared ahead this time letting his thoughts wander like a wave. When he asked if he owed him anything Thomas just shook his head. He was known to be humble and never expected anything in return. A bit gullible perhaps but he would rather stay that way. “Nothing. You don’t owe me anything. Just glad I could help. Maybe check out a few of my videos if you’re into porn?” He added though he was only joking at the last part. “Alright. That should be fine with me. Just don’t take off and not look back with it.” He chuckled. “Nice to meet you Orion. Are you not from around here?” He asked. “Your accent.” 

Lips bowed in a bittersweet smile, recalling parties where he’d gotten extra drunk a couple years ago. Perhaps he would have been encouraged less if people hadn’t kept saying that– you’re a riot when you’re drunk. Then again, he was already high a majority of the time, stupid choices lead to stupider decisions to stack on top. Except for the beginning– the tumultuous beginning, before the drugs with only the drinking to keep him afloat, above the surface of the spitting news your sister’s dead, your sister’s dead, stumbling around bright lights and parties, the pounding bassline of the music thumping the floor. Until it got to be too much, and bad things happened, and then more bad happened, combined altogether and he broke in two, requiring an extra cushion to blur the lines of malicious intent underlying the backgrounds of the parties. It wasn’t actually that bad, that was what he always said to himself, including when he sat beside Heather at the festival, it’s not as bad as what happened to Orion. “I know, don’t fuckin’ patronize me,” Cyrek said quickly, a slight of bite in his tone, “I’m not… into it ‘cause I had a bad experience. Like I said, it’s… not what you think. It’s not… somethin’ I take enjoyment out of.” He always skirted around saying it outright, ducking around it, like it would erase it from his existence. Granted, Cyrek had never been one for his entire life; if he’d ever desired to experiment or fulfill primal need, it wasn’t hard for him to find somebody able and willing to turn a few tricks or teach him some. Perhaps, on an unconscious level, he had strayed away from it for other reasons, too. Rubbing the back of his neck, he inhaled deeply, taking his cigarette from his mouth and twirling it between his fingers to occupy his mind. “But… no, I have nothin’ to complain about. My wife is wonderful, I couldn’t be luckier. Why get married if all you do is fuckin’ complain about them?” Bringing the cigarette to his lips to take another drag, smoke exhaling from his nose, glancing at him and shrugging himself. He’d heard of stories of people in the music business enduring plenty of nonconsensual ‘favors’. Thankfully, he was signed onto a small record label that mainly took on metal bands as the little punk rock band that made it, and although management gave him Hell sometimes and tried to control him, Cyrek was good friends with his boss. “I dunno, I guess it’s how you look at it. The people that think of it as taboo probably would, but everythin’ is kind of a fuckin’ craft when you think about it. There’s a level of creativity in most jobs. Y’know? Engineers build cool shit, for example. Look, plenty of my work got fuckin’ spit on when I got into my career, don’t listen to them. Fuck those guys.” Slowing when he spotted the sign to a cafe, he gestured a hand toward it, asking, “Is that it?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow as Cyrek told him not to patronize him. What’s with the sudden sudden snap. He didn’t think he was being patronizing at all though he did think the response was a bit childish as they were having a civil conversation and Thomas never had any issue with the tone when talking with the rest of his coworkers who some of them were likely older than this punk. Still not a fan of conflict he just shrugged and looked away. He wasn’t sure if his respect for this person would stay unaffected now alas he really needed to get out of there and spend some a good amount of time before he was called again for his next shoot. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” He knew several people who had had a bad experience yet but had to work for the industry still to keep their bills checked out. He had gone through the same hardship at the beginning of his career. He had to live with his uncle for a couple of years and safe to say he hadn’t been the best adult to help him grow as a person. On the contrary he had only gave him traumatic experiences but Thomas never wanted to talk about it or hint it to anyone else especially unsolicited therefor he just shrugged it off and changed the topic. He didn’t think of all the nights he had to spend hiding under his bed so his uncle wouldn’t find him but now he went naked and displayed his junk out for a living. He was filthy just like what his uncle would call him. Thinking about it made his throat itch and suddenly there was a need for a bottle of gin. They always helped me forsake those bad memories but sobriety is also important now and he can’t waste it all away. “That is correct.” Thomas replied. He never thought of marriage a lot. He didn’t think he would ever be interested in having one. The concept was just restraining to him. “Most of my viewers are people who are unhappy with their marriage unfortunately. I kid you not I met a man who came up to me and said a couple of my videos helped him fucking release cus his wife couldn’t do that shit anymore. Kind of sad to hear actually.” He said with a weary chuckle. “I wish people would see things the way you do. Unfortunately the average consensus thinks otherwise. You stoop so low and do porn you’re nothing but a bag of flith.” He said matter of factly. He looked at the cafe smiling and nodding. “Yeah. Go ahead.”