The Royal Blue Network

The New York City pavement was hot enough to melt steel, but thankfully, the fire hydrants were blasting cool refreshing water, giving the neighborhood children a method of cooling down. 

In the distance, an ice cream truck could be heard, prompting the children to shout with excitement. The fire hydrant was quickly forgotten as parents dug out their wallets and pocket change; but before any of them could dish out a single cent, The Milk Boi’s were making their way into the neighborhood. 

“Denis!” Shouted a girl with pigtails, causing the parents and other children to look up. 

The Milk Boi’s were six trans mascs who rode around the city on Super 73’s. Having grown up in Queens, the six men where a tight knit bunch who all shared a love for bikes, storytelling, art, comic books, and serving their community. Whether it was checking up on the elderly folks, walking the local children to and from the bus stop, or providing free baby-sitting services to single parents, the Milk Boi’s were a staple within their community.  

“Alright everyone, single file line! We gotta be quick, hurry, hurry!” Denis shouted. 

Travis, Denis’s boyfriend and best friend since grade school, pulled out his wallet. 

“When are you all going to let us pay you!” Mr. Jones, one of the parents, shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

The Milk Boi’s were always buying treats for the kids in the neighborhood. If they were at the corner store, they would load their backpacks with sugary snacks, and dish them out as they rode through the neighborhood. If they were at the supermarket, they brought fruit and other healthy snacks, and stopped by to drop them off. 

The parents and other adults in the neighborhood saw The Milk Boi’s as saints, but the truth was, they simply had plenty to spare. Tony, Travis’s father, did well for himself. Tony, and his best friend, Roy, were in the business of building and selling businesses. The men did well for themselves, and Tony was never shy about sharing his wealth. But before Tony began showering Travis, and his older brother, Tyler, with gifts, he made sure they knew the importance of hard work. Travis and Tyler were privileged, and Tony and Sandra, Tyler and Travis’s mom, made sure that their boys knew that. 

In high school, Sandra and Tony required that the boys get jobs; while Tony and Sandra loved to spoil their boys, they needed them to understand how privileged they were.  

Sandra and Tony always told Tyler and Travis that they weren’t rich, they were, but Tony and Sandra were never stingy with their money. Tony and Sandra taught their sons that providing value was how they got money, so instead of ‘can I have some money?’ the boys learned to ask, ‘how can we make money?’ Friends and family thought this was cruel of Tony and Sandra, but that simple change in words completely changed the way Tyler and Travis thought about money. In their minds, the brothers were surrounded by money; they just needed to figure out how to convince people to give it to them.  

But being surrounded by money was a privilege, and the brothers were very much aware of that; so much so, that after meeting Denis, Kenny, Rex, and Josh, and coming out to one another, the six men put their heads together to figure out how to make enough money to pay for their top surgeries.  

With the help of Tony, The Milk Boi's started a publishing house, and began writing comic book series. After high school, Rex and Josh got into video editing, and the pair came up with the idea to make animations of the comics that they wrote. Kenny and Dennis, being the sketch artists of the bunch, took some animation classes alongside Josh and Rex.  

All the Milk Boi’s were involved in coming up with the story ideas, but it was Tyler and Travis who wrote the stories; while Kenny and Dennis drew and edited the stories, while Josh and Rex turned the comic books into animated shorts films and shows.  

The Milk Boi’s did well for themselves. Between comic book sales, YouTube ad revenue, and the money they got from their Buy Me A Coffee page, The Milk Boi’s made plenty of money. Of course, much of what they made was reinvested into the company, and after two years, with the help of Tony, Roy, and Josh’s parents, The Milk Boi’s were able to get a house, not too far from Tony and Sandra’s. After they brought a home, the Milk Boi’s went into overdrive and the boys began making more money than ever.  

As the money rolled in, the guys began thinking about their community; without their neighbors, random people at the corner stores, and the kids that hung out at the library, The Milk Boi’s would’ve never gotten as big as they did, as fast as they did. And so, to show their appreciation, The Milk Boi’s began serving their community; helping in any way that they could think of. 

“Ahh, don’t worry about it Mr. Jones! We get all that we need from the satisfaction of being of service.” Kenny said, waving a dismissive hand. 

After making sure that everyone had their ice cream, The Milk Boi’s sat with the children, talking and eating their ice cream. 

The truth was The Milk Boi’s got a lot of inspiration from hanging out with the kids. Their imaginations were massive, and they had a lot of good ideas; sure, they weren’t fully fleshed out, but among the six of them, The Milk Boi’s could turn anything into a comic book series. 

So as the day began to fade into the evening, parents began rounding up their children to take them inside. But before they left, each child just had to get a hug from each of the Milk Boi’s. After the final little girl ran off, the boys hopped onto their bikes and began making their way home. 

The cloudless sky was a blue blanket with millions of tiny holes. The wind was a soft caress, ruffling the leaves on the ground.  

Lying on a blanket, amongst the leaves, Micheal Jones looked up at the sky, attempting to count each and every twinkling speck.  

On his chest, Micheal’s husband, Darius twisted the buttons of Micheal’s shirt. With his ear pressed to Micheal’s chest, the sound of Micheal’s heart thumping in his chest was like a sweet lullaby. Micheal was alive, it was a war to get to this point, but they did it; Darius helped his husband slay the dragon that was his depression. Of course, the dragon wasn’t actually dead, just dormant, sleeping, waiting for its next opportunity to strike; But for now, the husbands were soaking up every second of peace the dragon’s temporary death provided. 

“I love you.” Darius said suddenly. 

His voice was raw and horse from all the yelling they’d done that day. 

“I love you too. I wish I loved you enough to set you free though.” Micheal said. 

“Stop it. I’m not a prisoner.” Darius said. 

Micheal always said he wasn’t worthy of being loved by anyone but Darius knew that that was just the depression talking.  

On his darkest days, Micheal would scream and throw things, telling Darius to leave, pack up the car, and drive off.  

Darius knew that it wasn’t his husband talking on those days. It killed him to see Micheal battle the darkest parts of himself all alone.  

They’d tried therapy, meds, and a whole host of hippy-dippy treatments, and it worked; until it didn’t. For a couple of months, Micheal was alive and on fire. To-do lists were getting checked off, sex was being had, and Darius felt like he’d gotten his husband back.  

Then, a switch would flip and suddenly they were crashing, free falling from the sky. But Darius was always there. Whether they were flying high or nose-diving, Darius was right there, sticking to the words he said to Micheal when they stood in that dirty little chapel in Salt Lake City and exchanged vows and rings.      

“Til death do us part, remember?” Darius said, turning his head to look at his husband.  

Micheal’s chest bounced as he let out a laugh. 

 “Geez babe, I didn’t know you actually meant it.” Micheal said. 

Darius shook his head before shifting himself higher on his husband’s chest. 

“Of course I did.” He whispered, kissing Micheal’s lips. 

And he did. Even when Micheal lost his head and didn’t know how he’d ever make it to tomorrow, Darius loved him and would do all that he could to support his man. 

Jaxson Rivers adjusted the camera, tilting it this way and that way until he and his two other co-host, Micheal and Taylor, where perfectly in frame. After hitting the red record button, a soft beep sounded as Jaxson took a seat between his best friends. Then, picking up his mic, he took a deep breath and looked straight into the camera.  

“Well hello anarchist! I’m one of your handsome hosts, Jaxson Rivers.” Said Jaxson as he gripped his mic with both hands. 

“And I’m your even better-looking host, Taylor Hunt, this handsome Hunk’s husband.” Taylor said, as he elbowed Micheal.   

“And I am Micheal Hunt, arguably the best-looking host on this show. And you’re listening to, Bunkers and Bongs, your favorite informative, yet bat shit crazy news podcast. Apple Jax, how’s the war?” Micheal said, turning to his co-host. 

Jaxson opened his mouth to respond when a loud bang went off, causing their drinking glasses, and the plywood serving as their table, to rattle. 

“Well, it’s still going on, that’s for sure.” Jaxson said, looking directly into the camera. 

Hosting a podcast in the middle of a war zone was indeed as bat shit crazy as it sounded. But Bunkers and Bongs hadn't always been so hectic. There was a time when Bunkers and Bongs was known as ‘The Insomniac Podcast’. Back then, Jaxson, Micheal, and Taylor’s lives were quite normal. Before the war, Jaxson, Micheal, and Taylor recorded their podcast in a proper studio; they had employees and they made money through brand deals, merch sales, and donations from their listeners.  

Back then, before the civil war began, The Insomniacs, as they called themselves, had Roth IRAs and other investments, they had partners and an office which they ran their operations out of, and they had their whole lives mapped out. 

But then the war started and much like the small town they lived in, all The Bunker Boys’s lives went up in flames.  

.... 

Before the war, The Bunker Boys were known as The Tree Boys, and their podcast, Bongs N Things, was all about THC, CBD, and LGBT news. 

But now, that was no longer the case, six and a half years ago, The Bunker Boys, and everyone around them, chose to write off all those who tried to warn them. 

It was 2024 when it all began, anti-LGBTQ legislation was being written and in acted like movies hitting the box office. Every week there was a new law being enacted, and The Hall Monitors, a group of older gay men who had a love of law, started a blog, detailing all that was happening in every state. The Hall Monitors had friends in high places who would inform them of what was happening on the federal level, and The Hall Monitors tried to spread the news; but with very little knowledge about how to work their devices, and even less about how social media worked, The Hall Monitors' message failed to reached a wide enough audience. The Monitors tried to use the popular publications to get the news in the paper, but no one was really reading the paper anymore, at least not the local ones that The Monitors had access to. 

Eventually, when people finally did realize what was going on, their neighborhoods where already filled with men dressed in cameo uniforms, and the entire country was now under total government control.  

For some, the uniformed men weren’t a problem; that is until they widened their scope of targets, going from targeting just LGBT folks, to then targeting people with disabilities, people who held jobs that the government deemed as ‘unimportant’, or just anyone the government saw as a threat. And of course, all the ‘die hard citizens’, the bigots, and all those who opposed any and everyone who decided to go against the grain, they joined the government, and soon, the entire country was divided into two halves, and all hell broke loose. 

But a civil war? The country of Deston, where The Insomniacs used to live, could handle a simple civil war; hell, their country started with a civil war! But this war was far greater than any civil war the world had ever seen before. Both halves of this war didn’t just have bombs, guns, and tanks, they also had concoctions that could raise the dead and powders that if inhaled, would allow the makers of that powder to fully control whoever had ingested it. 

All the while, while the citizens of Deston were busy killing one another, The Insomniacs were simply trying to get as far away from the chaos as possible. But when the lock down came, Jaxson, Micheal, and Taylor got trapped in Deston, and they figured they were going to die there. So, the trio found a bunker, and they hid out. For days, they just sat in the bunker and did their best not to get involved in the fight. 

Friends of the boys, who had been forced into the fight, would come by the bunker to check on the trio; they brought snacks and updates about what was happening, and luckily for the boys, prior to starting the podcast, Taylor and Micheal worked as nurses, so they were able to patch up the soldiers in exchange for protection. 

Eventually, Micheal somehow managed to find their old studio amongst the rubble, and through a sheer act of God, all their recording equipment was able to be salvaged, and after convincing the general, of the small army they’d been staying with, to allow them to use the army’s internet, The Insomniac Boys where back online, this time as Bongs and Bunkers. 

“Boy, I really wish we would have paid a little more attention to the sales of military grade weapons to your average, everyday citizen.” Taylor said as he stared directly into the camera. 

Micheal shook his head. 

“Hindsight is 20/20 my guy. Wishing to change the past isn’t gonna do shit for us now.” Micheal said.  

Jaxson chuckled, now it was his turn to shake his head. 

“Ahh, ever the Optimus, I’ve always loved that about ya kid.” Jaxson said as he slapped a hand on Micheal’s leg. 

Between the three of them, the men where a tornado of fear, hopelessness, and a delusional level of optimism. The Bunker Boys where like a perfect scale, each man talking turns embodying the only three emotions they had; fear, numbness, and a delusional level of optimism. The men never had a conversation about which of them would embody which emotion; they just naturally gravitated towards one of the three every day. Call it fate, God, or something else, but no two men ever gravitated towards the same state of being, so they always remained in perfect harmony. They would simply wake up, assume their roles, and go about their day. 

“Do you think this war will....” Jaxson’s statement was cut short by a loud thud against the bunker door. 

“Sidney?” The men all said in unison as they looked at one another. 

Sidney was the trio's self-assigned assistant. Since the Bunker Boys where the only ones with internet access, they recorded the podcast on tapes, and Sidney would deliver the tapes to the folks on the front line. At first, the boys tried to discourage Sydney from doing such a dangerous job, but when she explained that this podcast was all that the soldiers had to look forward to, The Bunker Boys realized they couldn’t say no. Of course, Sydney wasn’t out there all alone, she was armed, and traveled with the soldiers, but that didn’t stop the boys didn’t worrying about her.  

“Sorry I’m late, we got roped into a fucking prayer circle, and we all know how long those things can last.” She said with a huff. 

Plopping down onto one of the buckets the guys used for chairs, Sydney huffed as she leaned against Jaxson. 

“People are really digging the pod by the way. This civil war has got everyone fiending for these tapes.” She said, holding up her sac full of food.  

The guys weren’t too thrilled about Sydney crossing a literal war zone, just to give out copies of their podcast tapes, but she loved the thrill. But more than just for the thrill, Sydney truly believed that The Insomniac Podcast was more than just ‘a silly little podcast.’ The Insomniac Podcast was so many people’s sunshine in the middle of a fucking storm, and though they couldn’t stop the war, they were keeping the people informed and entertained. And for Sydney, that was worth risking her life.  

And so, opening up the sac, she cracked open a soda someone had traded, slipped another tape into the recorder, and sat back and watched as her friends did their thing.