Chapter 13.3
Cam girl bravado was replaced with something new and uncertain, I’d crossed an irreversible line and as he leant down to kiss me, my mind reeled. Part of me melted into it, feeling his warm embrace, his strong arms around me, a bit of my brain hummed, but there was another noise in the background, and it wasn’t the birds and squirrels.
We parted and his watch beeped. He glanced at it and then laughed “apparently that was quite the cardio work out” I laughed half-heartedly, it was a decent joke, but my mind was struggling to process everything, I still had a sense of him being inside me, that void no longer being filled. But also that rising nervousness or something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
He motioned for us to leave, mentioning he would have to get back to the gym later, I held his hand as he led the way through the undergrowth. My mind now coming down from the unparalleled high, the normal world coming back into focus. We chatted but the conversation seemed difficult, I just felt myself not being quite connected. I was still joking and teasing him, but it felt somehow remote.
Arriving at the entrance gate where we met, he turned and hugged me. It felt nice to be in his arms, safe, cared for and as he gently kissed me on the lips my brain fluttered again and a swell of pride washed over. The kiss ended all too soon, and as he stepped away, our hands eventually parting I couldn’t move.
Watching as he walked through the gate and in the opposite direction to the one I needed to go I felt weirdly numb, like I wasn’t connected to me anymore. I took a few steps to a nearby bench and sat down, wincing at the sudden discomfort of my now thoroughly pounded and tender backside.
I stared into the middle distance, I should be happy, I thought. Ellie would be. I should message her, she’ll want to know all the details. But as I stared at the phone, I couldn’t find the words. I looked at my manicured and painted nails. My hairless and smooth legs. The phone screen switched off, and my reflection beamed back at me in the dark glass.
The reflection wasn’t that clear, but that girl, her hair, the earrings, the finely arched brows and delicate flick of eyeliner… What had I done? Was this even me anymore? I felt sick, my stomach turning a rising sense of dread. What if all of this was a big mistake?
Just then a family entered the park, husband and wife, two young kids and a dog. I stared at them, that was a future I once thought of. Meeting a girl, getting married, a house, kids and a dog. And looked back at my painted nails, that wasn’t my future any more, what did my future even look like?
The sickness rose again, my stomach turning with even more intent, I needed to get home, I needed to get clean.
My legs might have still been shaky, but I quickly found my stride, out the gate and down the road. I had no recollection of the trip back other than it seemed much quicker than the bus. Arriving at my front door, I fumbled the keys, my stomach turning stronger. Inside the main door and down the corridor to my flat.
Bursting in, I slammed the door behind me and dashed into the bathroom, lifting the lid on the toilet just in time for me to vomit, coughing and spluttering. I knelt as my stomach continued to wretch, I didn’t have much in my belly and after a few dry heaves I managed to regain control and calm my breathing.
I was strangely grateful that my hair was tied up, but the thought alone caused me to wretch again.
“FUCK!” I exclaimed to no-one, flushing the toilet and standing at the sink, I splashed my face with water. Staring at my reflection, makeup smeared, pale, clammy skin. I looked terrible and barely recognised myself. Who had I become? What was I even doing?
I put the shower on hot, peeled off my clothes and threw them in the corner, stepping in, the scolding water spraying against my sensitive skin. I desperately tried to clean myself, scrubbing with soap, holding my head under the stream trying to clear my mind to think. Trying to make sense of the flash of images going through my head. The camming, Ellie, Marc.
I felt myself twinge again, “FUCK!” I shouted again, pounding the shower wall, my voice had cracked, a perfect metaphone of what I felt, split between two places. What the fuck had I done to myself? This had gone too far.
But an immediate flashback to the park earlier came to mind, that moment of pure, pleasure, the feeling of floating, of infinite euphoria. My body flushed with goosebumps despite the hot water, I shuddered as I felt my cock twitch. “This isn’t good” I said to myself, “what am I meant to do now?” asking an empty room.
Stepping from the shower, the mirrors obscured by thick steam, I dried myself, grateful for not being able to see my reflection. Back in my room I saw all the bags by the door, I pulled out some items and threw them on.
The coarse fabric felt uncomfortable on my skin, they hung awkwardly from my frame but I deserved discomfort, I’d got carried away, I needed to reset. I looked at my phone on the bed, the notification light already flashing, no doubt a message from Marc. I thought back to the email I’d sent to work, I’d passed up that amazing opportunity. But it was already too late, they said it would all be finalised before the end of the week.
I turned my phone off and threw it across the room, I just need to be alone with my thoughts, I just needed to think, to get some perspective. I just needed a drink, or maybe several.
I pulled an old jacked from a bag of clothes, a baseball cap and a pair of worn out trainers and head outside. As I trudged down the street to the local pub, I felt numb. My mind was trying to reconcile what I’d been doing for these last few months. It kind of made sense, it kind of seemed like a logical thing to do. But at the same time completely ridiculous.
Entering the pub I walked straight up to the bar, ordered a double whisky and a pint. My stomach probably wouldn’t be grateful for this, but I didn’t care. being sick was the least of my worries, if anything it would serve me right for getting myself into this mess.
I slammed the shot back at the bar and I found a quiet table in the corner. Between gulps of my pint, I took stock of my options. The worst thing was I didn’t really have anyone I could talk to. My family were out of the question, and although they were pretty liberal, I don’t even know how I could start a conversation explaining that I dressed as a girl on a webcam and turned it into a job, and then let a guy fuck me in the park.
Ellie was probably the most likely option, but she’d made it perfectly clear that she wanted me to be the cam girl. She wanted a partner in business, but very probably nothing more than that, it was her fault I’d ended up doing what I’d done today anyway. If I did talk to her I’d probably end up blaming her anyway, and I didn’t want to do that either.
Marc? I felt my stomach turn. Marc couldn’t help me at all, he was oblivious to all this, and letting him know he’d just fucked a guy probably wouldn’t get a reaction that would be in any way helpful.
I picked up my drink and suddenly realised my nails were still painted, still shaped and styled. The juxtaposition of my drab t-shirt and jeans and my hairless arms and manicured hands was preposterous. “What the fuck even am I?” I asked internally. I felt my eyes well up, I sank back into the booth and took a big swig of my drink. It didn’t stop the tears but it gave my mind something to do.
In any normal circumstance, a guy crying over a pint would have earnt the ear of a friendly barman, but with covid everyone was more closed, I manged to stem the flow long enough to order another shot and a pint, and while I could see their eyes willing me to say something, I didn’t think I could stomach their pity anyway. So many people had gone through awful things this year. Seeing loved ones get taken away in ambulances and not returning, my issue seemed trivial.
The second pint went down quicker, but my eyes remained just as wet. I must have looked like a mess, but I didn’t care. several drinks later as last orders rang I staggered my way home. The bright lights of Kentish Delight drawing me in, a British institution following drowning your sorrows was to get some questionable meat shaved from a block of perpetually rotating grease.
You always know better, but you do it anyway. A beep of my card and a hot meaty meal in my hand. there had been a raised eyebrow as I reached over the counter for my wrap, no doubt looking at my fingernails and my eyebrows and long hair spilling from under my cap. There are a few good things about London, and in that moment knowing I was probably one of the most normal looking people to come in that night was one of them.
Stumbling up the road I smiled at the thought. I had to be grateful that I lived here, you really could be whatever you wanted in a place like London, and most people just didn’t care. I’d spent many nights in Camden to know that a little nail polish was nothing. But still when I got home, that would have to come off.
I dropped my keys trying to find the lock, cursing the door for moving, my vision blurry. Several attempts later and I bundled inside and made another attempt at my flats door. Staggering in barely able to stay on my feet.
I collapsed on the bed my head hitting my phone that I’d thrown earlier. Drunk me was able to switch it on as I took another bite of my grease soaked kebab. It was disgustingly delicious, I knew I would regret it in the morning. But fuck the morning, fuck tomorrow, fuck all of it.
The screen illuminated, loading and my notifications pinged up, there were many. Emails from HR at work, I frowned, not wanting to acknowledge that cluster fuck of wrong choices. messages from Ellie asking how it went, asking how I was, wondering why I hadn’t replied, if I was ok and then a few messaged from Marc. My stomach dropped again and not just because of the rotisserie pot luck I’d been shovelling in my face.
Marcs messaged read about how much he’d enjoyed our ‘run’, I laughed and then burst into tears. He asked if we could meet up properly, for a date and a rising sense of panic spread over me. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t be that person, I don’t know how I’d even managed for this long, it just wasn’t me.
I once again noticed my nails and desperately wanted to get them off, I had to erase her. I clamoured into the bathroom, nail polish remover would do it. splashing it on and drunkenly using a towel to scrub it off, but all that happened was some of the colour spread, and it was then that I remembered they had used gel.
“FUCK” I swore aloud, I couldn’t keep them, I had to get them off, maybe I could pick them off, chip off with a screwdriver, anything really. In the kitchen I found a knife, it wasn’t particularly sharp, but it’d do.
Starting at the bed of the nail I dug in, trying to find an edge, a few bits splintered off, this was going to work. I tried again, a bit more came off despite slipping a few times and jabbing into my hand a bit. Growing increasingly frustrated I pushed harder. “god fucking damnit” I cried, I couldn’t even do this. Jabbing extra hard, the knife slipped and stuck right into the base of my thumb.
I might have been very drunk, but a sudden and excruciating pain does wonders for sobering you up. I’d done a first aid course at work and knew to leave the knife in, it actually wasn’t in very much, maybe I could just take it out. Which was obviously a mistake as a gush of blood followed, I pressed my fingers against it “FUCK” I exclaimed again.
I sat there on my bed, the bleed was under control so long as I didn’t move my finger from the cut, it was now throbbing and I knew I should probably get to A&E, but I could barely walk. A minicab wouldn’t come and pick me up, and ambulance wouldn’t arrive for hours if at all. I didn’t even want to go to A&E what with Covid cases still about they were rammed and I’d be sat in a waiting room for hours and hours.
My phone chimed with a notification and I went over to it, using an available finger to unlock it, I could see another message from Ellie, sounding quite worried asking if I was ok and if I could reply. Struggling to navigate with my bloodied hands I managed to call via whatsapp.
“Ellie!, ive fuckeddup, itsall a mess” I slurred, not even waiting for a reply “ivve ffucking ssstabbed myself, im fffucking stuuupid, wadamIdoing? There’s blood , bud its ohkayy, probabllly need hospidal” she was talking but I couldn’t really hear, she was so quiet and far away, and then I realised it wasn’t on speakerphone.
I tried mashing the screen but couldn’t get the button, hanging up the phone by mistake. I collapsed forward, the drink getting the better of me. “shitting fucksake” I spat, its no fucking good, I deserved this, I deserved to bleed out on the bed for all the stupid decisions I’d made, I couldn’t move, time passed and the room was spinning more, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, drifting in and out, I could hear noises, muffled shouts from the hallway, my name maybe? but the spinning got worse and my vision closed into darkness.