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And I thought the handshake was surprising. “I appreciate that,” I make myself say. “Thanks.”
“Thank you, my man. Hey, Tye,” he calls out. “Aren’t you gonna show my tenant Zak here your appreciation, too?”
Tye appears confused for a second, unsure where to turn his head. “Thanks, Zak! You, uh … make Dante’s life a lot easier!”
I chuckle dryly. I don’t know much about this Tye guy, but he’s sure put some kind of spell on Dante, because I barely recognize him. The Dante I knew, he used to never let people in his apartment who weren’t clients or close friends.
Now he’s inviting me in. Letting me see his … rather intimate work. He’s answering the door in a thong. Who is this guy …?
When I see myself out, Dante stops me at the door. “You asked me a question once about dating and age,” he reminds me. “Remember that? Up on the roof? Well, I gotta tell you, fuck everything in the world that makes you question any of that. You gotta make you happy.” He pokes me in the chest for emphasis. “Nobody else’s opinions matter but your own. And when you abandon that road of worrying what everyone else thinks, and you chase your heart into a place that’s filled with stuff that makes you happy … well, shit, the only damn thing you’ll find is happiness.” He gives me a light punch in the shoulder. “Knock ‘em dead, Zak.”
Then he closes the door.
And I stare at it, astonished somehow.
My phone buzzes: Larry gave me your shift. I owe you, Zak. Thanks so much!
I smirk, then reply back with a big thumbs-up. Good thing I haven’t left yet.
Also, I’m pretty sure this surprise news is about to make someone else’s night rather pleasant.
I head back upstairs, enter my apartment, drop my keys and bag on the floor, then head on over to my cam room, where a computer with a webcam, wireless keyboard, and wireless mouse awaits me. The room has nothing else in it except a simplistic bed and a small table to set things on. I sit on the end of the bed, log in to the site, then focus the cam on me. I’m already pretty much fixed up for a night of dancing I was expecting to have, so I look damn good when I pop up on the screen.
And that’s when I see that my top customer is online—and already in my chat room, ready for me.
He private-messages me immediately: Zak! Hey!
“Hey there, Captain.” Captain is what he likes to be called. Despite it being prohibited to share personal info on the cam site, we’ve broken rules over the years we’ve known each other and know a few details about each other—like what cities we live in. “Got the night off. Looks like I’m all yours.”
Other people are messaging me as well, mostly the usual beggars trying to get me to do something on cam for free, but with Captain online, I don’t have to sweat a thing; he always takes care of me.
In our private chat window, he types: I wish my cam worked. We could have a better time if you could hear my voice. I look and sound younger than I am, promise!
I unzip my hoodie down halfway, letting my pecs show. “Don’t worry about it, Captain. You know I don’t care how old you are. Hey, how’s the weather down there in Mississippi?”
The chat room floods with messages from my viewers begging me to take the hoodie all the way off. Someone wants me to show them my feet. Another one wants to know how big my dick is—which is a question I get about ninety times a day.
There’s a knock at my door.
And that’s something I get about zero times a day. Who could be knocking? Brett, maybe?
Doesn’t matter. I ignore it as I await Captain’s response, which comes only a minute later: Actually, that’s the thing. I’m not in Mississippi right now.
“Oh yeah?” I smile. Chatting with Captain is like talking to a friend. After so many years, you really get the sense that you know someone, even if it’s just words on a screen with little else of substance other than our conversations. “Where are you? On vacation in the Florida Keys?”
Another knock at the door.
He responds: Actually, I’m in your city tonight.
I read his reply several times.
I’m on cam, so I’m aware that any reaction on my face is something he’ll immediately see. That makes hiding my surprise from him a challenge.
Especially when he adds this: I was hoping maybe we could finally meet. After all this time. Just so I can prove to you I’m harmless.
I stare at the message.
My instinct is to shut him down immediately. Or turn off my computer and fake a power outage or internet failure. Or smile and play it off, like I’m too busy to meet him.
