It had been a week since Evan had become the proud owner of somebody else’s credit card number and he had put it to good use. His bed was now covered in sheets and a comforter, his closet was full of clothes, and the new easel in the corner of his room was holding a canvas that had vibrant acrylic paint brushed across it. With Luis’s guidance, Evan had purchased items with the intention of reselling them for a cheaper price, thus padding his pockets with cash. He used most of his earnings for drugs, remaining loyal to his brother for weed, but going to a few of the Klown Killerz who were higher up in the hierarchy for his coke. He’d learned the hard way that Kane’s shit was cut with baby laxatives. Now that he was able to spend money that wasn’t his own, he’d decided to spring for the good shit.
During the day he mostly chilled with Luis, Kane, and Jamal, playing video games and getting high, or he hid in his room, lost in the abstract landscapes he created on canvas. Through his art, he constructed a world full of happiness and love, a place so contradictory to what he knew. His paintings allowed him to live unapologetically. To walk down the streets into structures he built, knowing that they’d keep him safe; a dream that had yet to be realized anywhere but in his imagination. He wondered if years of not having a home had inspired him to develop sanctuaries that could hold him, even if only through the paintbrush in his hand.
Evenings were spent targeting women who were desperate or stupid enough to do things for the set. He’d been able to lock down two girls who, according to the information that was passed down to him from the O-Gs, had already proved to be invaluable. He’d been sent out to tag turf only once, and wielding that can of spray paint had felt like a homecoming.
With everything else there had been a learning curve, but cloaking himself in the darkness of night and spraying graffiti came easy to him. He was as precise as he was fast, both qualities needed to get the message across without ending up in prison. When he was younger, he’d made the mistake of becoming too wrapped up in the work and not cognizant enough of the ticking clock that began counting down as soon as the paint hit concrete. He’d gotten himself thrown in juvie quite a few times as a kid, but only ended up in jail twice as an adult, which he figured was growth, all things considered.
Every night after his KKz responsibilities, he made his way to Humboldt Park with several gold foil condoms in his wallet. He sat on the same bench, looking at the same rock, hoping that the same man with the pale blue eyes would show up. He didn’t. Evan regretted not working out a date for their next rendezvous or at least getting the guy’s phone number.
Evan had never asked a guy for his digits before. Even the concept of doing it seemed incredibly weird and unnatural. The men he’d been with in the past had all chased him. He wasn’t used to having to put in work, and yet he found the anticipation and nervous energy to be quite the aphrodisiac.
Assuming that he actually saw Blue Eyes again, Evan knew that the sex was going to be amazing, not just because the man was hot as fuck, but because Evan had been thinking about how goddamn sexy he was for the past week. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Evan to be horny as fuck, day in and day out. After all, he was a twenty-one-year-old guy. Wanting to bang all the time was pretty much par for the course. But at thought of plowing Hot Shit’s ass, Evan had found he was even more worked up than usual. It felt like he had a perpetual case of blue balls from constantly wondering what could have been if he hadn’t been such an idiot and brought some fucking condoms.
He was about to jack off for the second time that day, his inspiration seemingly never-ending thanks to the mystery man, when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.
“Come in,” he called, zipping his fly and quickly scooting into a sitting position on his bed.
“Ready to roll?” Kane asked, coming into the room and looking around. “You have like three more paintings than you had this morning,” he mused, surveying the pieces that were leaning against the wall.
“I keep starting things and deciding that I need to move onto something else,” Evan stated with a shrug. “I think it’s the excitement of finally painting again. Too much shit in my head that’s trying to get out. It’s hard to focus, I guess.”
“Well, lucky for you all you got to focus on now is getting a shirt on and coming to Cedric’s. The new member parties are always lit as fuck. I think I’m still drunk from mine.”
“That was two years ago.” Evan shook his head with a laugh as he pulled on his cobalt blue t-shirt. It was strange to have a wardrobe that only consisted of maroon, blue, and white, but he was getting used to it.
“I know,” he replied with a smirk. “Can that shirt get any tighter, man?” he questioned as Evan leaned over to tie his shoes. He took a break from tying his laces long enough to give Kane the finger. “It almost looks like you’re getting some of your muscles back.”
“Never lost them.” He macked before following Kane out of the room.
“You were looking pretty skinny, man,” his brother informed him, “leaner than I’ve ever seen you.”
“Wouldn’t randomly bulk up in a week,” Evan tsked. “Doesn’t make any sense.”
“Whatever. Can’t you take a fucking compliment? You’re looking good, a’ight? Healthy even.”
“Shit, I wouldn’t go that far.” Evan laughed. They stood on the porch and smoked as they waited for Jamal and Luis to come down and join them.
Cedric’s house was a few blocks away, but Evan could hear the bass from the music coming from Ced’s place. It became more intense the closer they got to the party and as soon as they entered, the beat pounded through him, prompting his heart to thump at its rhythm. Evan wasn’t sure if he would’ve had the same visceral reaction if he hadn’t been high, but with cocaine navigating his system, the whole scene felt intense and he wasn’t sure if it was in a good way. He knew that he didn’t have much choice but to stay for at least a short period of time to show that he was thankful to be a part of the KKz.
After doing a few shots with some of the boys, he found himself sitting on a sofa in between two other guys who he guessed were new like him. He thought he was hallucinating when he saw three topless women, who looked to be the South Side’s version of Vivid porn stars, enter the room, big fake tits bouncing with every step. He glanced at Kane to gauge his reaction and determine if he knew that this was going to happen, and from the goofy grin Kane gave back, it seemed he did. Evan could feel people watching him as one of the girls climbed onto his lap.
“I got lucky,” she cooed in his ear, her wavy blonde hair cascading onto his cheek. “You’re the hottest guy here.”
He nodded, unsure of what to say in response. She proceeded to give him a filthy lap dance, shoving body parts that he wanted nothing to do with in his face and grinding her big ass against the crotch of his jeans, trying to bring some life to his flaccid cock. “Not going to work,” he stated as she dropped her hand below his waistband and wrapped it around his dick. “I’m high as fuck.”
She gave him an exaggerated pout. “Wanted to ride you. Feel really big.”
“Guess you didn’t really get lucky then.” He pursed his lips as he glanced at the guy to the right of him getting his dick sucked and then to his left where one of the strippers was bouncing on the dude’s bare cock. Panic began to press against chest as he surveyed the room and saw eyes looking curiously at him, wondering why he wasn’t fucking the hot piece of ass on top of him.
Attempting to think on his feet, he did the only thing he could think of that would possibly allow him to save face. He told the blonde to lie face down on the dingy carpet. He proceeded to pour a long line of cocaine from the base of her neck through the crack of her ass and down her leg. He wanted to cry when he saw all the white powder leaving his possession, but he knew it was his only way out. “So many Klown Killerz have done more for me in this short period of time than I could ever fucking do in return,” he began, “so this is a start.”
Much to his relief, a bunch of the guys approached, shaking his hand before leaning over and bumping a portion of the line. The crowding around the girl enabled him to duck out and make his way through the packed house to the front porch where he sat on a rickety rocking chair and lit up a cigarette.
“What the fuck was that?” Kane questioned, squatting down next to Evan and looking at him skeptically.
“What was what?” Evan asked innocently.
“Not like you to give up that much of your shit. Especially not the good stuff,” his brother stated, shaking his head.
“Like I said, everyone’s done a lot for me.” He shrugged and blew a plume of smoke into the humid air.
“Mmmhmm.”
“What?”
Kane’s eyes were heavy with concern. “The thing about being in a gang is that everyone’s the same. We all do the same things, want the same things, and function in the same way. A fucking unit,” he began. “It’s not a good thing to be different. Being different gets you killed. We don’t do different.”
“Not sure what you’re getting at,” Evan evaded, feeling his defenses wrap around him like a shield.
“You know what I’m getting at,” Kane replied, biting his lower lip. “I don’t give a shit. Always suspected it. But those guys in there,” he paused and shook his head, “they give a shit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Evan repeated stubbornly, refusing to look down at his brother for fear that his face would admit he did.
“Whatever, Evan. Deny it to me, deny it to yourself, I don’t care.” Kane sighed as if he didn’t want to say the next statement that was going to come out of his mouth. “But you got to learn how to fuck women.” With that Kane stood up and left his brother dumbstruck in his wake.
The realization that somebody in his life suspected his deepest secret had him reeling. With all his coke gone, he needed to find something to abate his stress and there was no better way than fucking.
He prayed Hot Shit would be there to take the pounding.