TAJ
I sat in pitch-black dark over the news of Deandre’s death. I couldn’t shake the scene out of my head of seeing him lying there in a pool of his own blood. I mean, who would kill him and leave him lying there like that? Damn, his head was barely attached, some real, brutal, fucked-up shit. When I flipped on the TV to see if there was anything on the news about Deandre, my phone rang. It was Jimi. He was the last man I wanted to talk to, but if I didn’t answer, he would only blow up my phone fifty-eleven times until I picked up. “What’s up, Jimi?” I asked.
“Taj, hey, what’s up?”
Other than finding my friend dead on the floor at his crib, I’m good was what I wanted to say, but didn’t. “Sitting here watching the news, man, what do you want?”
“I wanted to know if you got a chance to look at the script I gave you.”
“Yeah, I read it and made some notes.”
“Great. When you come in, we can talk about your ideas.”
“Well, the thing is, I seemed to have misplaced the script with my notes on it, and can’t find it anywhere.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have plenty of copies here at my office. I also have Vance and the new guy, Montez coming in later. I was hoping the four of us could get together and run lines for the new film.” The way I was feeling, I could give two shits about dick and ass, number one, and number two, people who buy these DVDs, don’t care about dialogue. They put their shit on mute half the time and beat off to the fuck and suck scenes, but money was money, and now that I had lost not only my best friend, but my lady too, so I didn’t give a fuck. I needed something to take my mind off Leandra and Deandre. “T, did you hear what I said?”
“What? Yeah. Let me take a shower and I can be there in ten minutes.”
“True. I’ll see you in ten.”
All I did was stand under the hot water, caught in a daze of the events that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. When I got to Jimi’s, there were three cars parked in the driveway. Jimi’s Beamer, Vance’s Spyder, and a 1996 Camry that had to belong to the new swinging dick Jimi had hired. When I walked up to the door, I rang the bell. “Come on in, T.” It was Jimi’s voice. The second I turned the gold-plated knob, I heard a series of moans reverberating from the living room. When I walked inside, there was Vance on all fours sucking Jimi’s little-ass dick and taking it up the ass by the new kid. There they were in the center of the living room that reeked of poppers and ass, going at it like a bunch of wild zoo animals, Vance licking across the shaft of Jimi’s dick as if it were dipped in chocolate while Montez was pounding Vance’s ass hard and rough. Of course he was taking it like the porn pro he is. “Hey, you made it,” Jimi said.
“Jimi, I thought we were going to talk about the notes I made on the script.”
“We are. This is only a rehearsal. This is the new guy Montez I was telling you about the other day.”
“What’s up,” the new guy said, as he cut me a sinister glare before he turned his attention back to deep-dicking Vance who was too busy sucking Jimi’s circus peanut of a dick to say anything. Jimi was armed with a handy-cam filming the nasty scene. “Why don’t you strip and join us? Montez here is versatile and says he’s a huge fan of yours and would love to get fucked by the famous Dillon Durke.”
I looked at the three of them going at it and realized that I didn’t want to do this shit anymore, that even though I was making bank, some things are not worth selling your soul for. I didn’t want to be in my thirties and forties and still fucking for money. I knew that if I stuck around, I wouldn’t last and would end up being some messed-up, coked-out drug addict like Vance, and from the looks of Montez who looked all of eighteen, Jimi would use him up until he was no good to him anymore. “I’m out of here, man; I gotta go.” I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Where are you going?” Jimi asked. I didn’t answer, but kept on walking. “Taj, where the fuck are you going? Get back here.”
“I quit, Jimi.”
“What the fuck do you mean, you quit. You’re locked in a contract. I still own your pretty ass for two more films.”
“So sue me. I really don’t give a fuck. I’m done with this shit.”
Jimi stood ass-naked in the door all red-chested with Vance’s spit dripping from the head of that circus peanut he called a dick, not caring who saw him. Neighbors, kids, dog catcher, the damn ice cream man, nobody.
“Come on, man. We were just having a little fun. Come back inside; let’s talk about your future.”
“I’m done, Jimi. How many times do I need to say that shit? I’m done; I’m out of the porn business.”
“So you’re going to turn your back on all that good money just like that? Taj, you’re my top-selling star. I have big plans for you, baby: convention appearances, red carpet events. Did I tell you that I’ve been approached about you doing a sex toy line? I’m talking dildos, vibrators, you name it. Come back inside. We’ll talk about it over drinks.”
I got in my car and cranked it up until it roared to life. “Good luck with everything, Jimi.”
“You think it’s that easy? I own your ass, Taj, you hear me? I own you, you black son of a bitch!”
I hauled ass, burning traction knowing I would never have to lay these pretty brown eyes on Jimi’s sleazy ass again. I was smiling ear to ear without a pinch of regret.
“I’m coming for you, Leandra.”