Chapter 3

 

Before he got too drunk to drive, Trent stopped sucking down the Cosmos. His friends were animated, laughing and talking about the latest celebrity gossip or television shows that Trent did not watch. He wasn’t a big fan of reality shows.

Growing weary of their superficial chatter, Trent checked his phone and answered a few text messages he had missed because of the noise. Then he opened the app for his social profile. Nothing from the mysterious James Dean.

It was disappointing. Trent opened the photo of James as large as he could on his phone and held it up. “Do you think this guy is cute?”

The men at the table either stretched to look, or reached for it to inspect.

“Fucker’s hot. Who is he?” Vance gave Trent back the phone.

“It says he’s a model.” Trent reread the information about him. He sent him another message. ‘how’s ur day goin’?’

When no reply came back immediately, Trent pocketed his phone and said, “Okay, so the plan is to eat at El Coyote later, right?”

“Eight.” Harvey nodded and they all began tossing cash into the middle of the table.

Trent said, “I got it.” He slid out after Brace moved to let him up and walked over the bartender. “Will this cover it?” He put a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.

“For you?” Bruce laughed at the absurdity.

“No. Everyone.”

“Oh.” Bruce tallied the drinks up and gave Trent change. Trent left a twenty on the counter and waved to his buddies as he exited. The sun was bright after the dark interior, so he put his sunglasses on and was expecting a ticket to be on his car. He had put in two hours worth and knew he had gone over. But the meter read he still had ten minutes.

Confused, but happy he didn’t get a citation, Trent climbed into the sun-heated car, opened the sunroof and turned on both the music and air-conditioner. He merged into the traffic and headed to Bel Air.

It was a good time to nap. That way he’d be awake for the late Saturday night ahead.

His phone hummed but he ignored it as he drove, thinking about meeting new people, or at least finding someone who didn’t talk about who was wearing what on the Red Carpet.

It bored the crap out of him.

~

Parry carried his little leftover food box inside and placed it in the refrigerator.

“Okay, now what?” He toed off his tennis shoes and washed his hands at the kitchen sink. Sighing, looking out of the window, Parry had a long night to kill, so he figured, he may as well work.

He sat at his PC and booted it up. Before he actually dove into the web updates, hosting and designing for his clients, he checked his email box; empty. His social network page. Nothing new, then he went to James Dean’s.

“Holy shit!” Parry was stunned. Over fifty notifications, twenty messages, and three dozen friend requests.

Without hesitation he went right to Trent’s private message. ‘how’s ur day goin?’

It was sent while Trent was still at the club since it was almost the exact time Parry had left. That struck Parry as very odd. The man was drinking with his friends, just got his cock sucked, and he is typing me?

“Trent Hill, you are a slut.” Parry figured he’d play. Sure. Fill the conceited asshole with compliments like his sycophants. He texted him, blocking his cell number.

‘hey, good looking, it’s James. just been to the gym before my next shoot. gotta keep cut & pumped up, ya know? wat r u up to?’

An instant text message returned, ‘y u block me? I won’t stalk ya, LOL’

‘I get a lot of weirdos, ya know.’

‘I know. too many… hey, ya got a minute to text for a bit?’

Parry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wrote, ‘yeah.’

While Parry waited for Trent’s reply, he accepted all the friend requests from gay gorgeous men, and replied, ‘thanks’ to each one that said he was good looking, then he logged off the social network. He took his phone with him and relaxed on his bed, his back propped up by pillows and stared at his phone.

Trent wrote, ‘ya ever get tired of shallow shit?’

‘wat kind of shallow shit?’

‘ya know… peeps talkin bout tv n crap.’

‘ya mean jus becuz ur good lookin they think ur dumb?’ Parry chuckled.

‘I am dum. I spend time with these a-holes. I really feel lonely sometimes. do u?’

Parry choked and reread the message several times. He wrote back, ‘u feel lonely?’

‘yea… all the time. jus hangin with drink buddies, not the same as real love.’

Parry’s jaw hung open. Before he typed back, Trent wrote, ‘Im sure u get it 2… bein so hot. right? just want u for sex.’

Parry was speechless. He wished! He hadn’t even kissed a boy. ‘yeah… suppose. I try to keep busy. but what is luv, ya know?’

‘dunno… guess just connection on a deeper level. not shit talkn about celebs crap. I never meet smart people. surrounded by cocksuckers who want to suck me. u too?’

Parry slouched in his bed, stunned. Trent Hill was lonely? Trent Hill wanted a real lover? Are you kidding me? Well, James Dean was not Trent’s dream man. He suddenly wished Trent had connected to Parry Brampton, the geek. ‘sometimes… I mean, after shoots, always some dude wants it.’ Parry shrugged. He hoped he sounded real.

‘Dude, wanna vid chat. get on a site.’

‘wud luv to but a fucker broke my phone. camera thing is shot, gotta get another one. on the list.’

‘I hear ya. always droppin mine in the pool. sucks.’

Parry again had no idea what to say. So he opened the app to see Trent’s profile photo while he texted him.

“Trent Hill… you are so fucking hot.”

‘I feel like a dork tellin’ ya shit. sorry.’

Parry immediately typed, ‘don’t. it’s nice talkin to someone about somethin besides looks, ya know?’

‘I do. cant believe ur so nice. usually hot guys are douches, ya know the type, right?’

‘u got a boyfriend?’

‘naaa… haven’t met someone I connect with, tight. I need the mental. not just a bj or hookup… bet u do. right? some hot fuck.’

‘no. I don’t. nope. single. its mostly a time thing, I’m always away for shoots.’

‘peeps tell me to model. naa. granddad left me cash- I shud do somethin’- feel like a lazy shit livin off nothin. I keep thinkin I shud volunteer… dunno.’

Ohhh, Parry realized Trent was not a ‘kept’ boy. He inherited cash. Must be nice. ‘do wat ya wanna do. its ur life, man.’

‘hey, how old r u? ok to ask?’

‘28… u?’

‘32… soooo old. hated hittin 3-Oh’

‘that aint old… shuddup.’

‘I tell everyone im 25. ha…’

Parry laughed and clicked the app back on his phone to see Trent. So cute. Damn. I would love my first kiss to be you.

‘am I keepn ya? if im bein a pain, tell me.’

Parry blinked in surprise at Trent’s comment. It had insecurity written all over it. But of course, Trent thought he was speaking to a hot model. ‘no. I like ya, man. ur for real. most pretty men are shits.’

‘I know, right? I feel like a shallow ass. I go for the hot ones… lol, like u. but u seem diff. how come ur not an ass? ;)’

Parry wanted to say, “Because I’m an ugly geek, ya douche!”

‘I spose ya gotta look past the outside, see the dude inside. I mean, I see a lot of goodlookin guys in my biz, and wuldnt touch any of them. such conceited assheads.’

‘yea… zactly… shit. I really wanna meet. ya got plans 2nite?’

‘think so… my agent wants to get new shots… fuckin agent is always on my ass. not in a good way.’

‘damn – now I wanna jerk off to ur pic. Ha.’

Parry wanted to tell Trent he had already done that to his, but played it cool. Mr Aloof. ‘well, dude, gotta go. cool talkin’.’

‘naw, really? I dont wan u 2 go.’

Parry began to feel depressed. If he was hot, he’d arrange to meet Trent. Heck, they could even just talk. Not touch. Get to know each other. But Parry knew that was never going to happen. If Trent saw him? He’d be so turned off he’d never look his way.

‘we cud talk later… when ya free?’ Parry asked.

‘supposed to be at el coyote at 8 for dinner with buddies. dont really wanna go. wud rather talk to u.’

Parry choked and coughed on his own spit as he tried to swallow. That comment did more than shock him, it completely overwhelmed him.

‘dude,’ Parry wrote, ‘jus text me when ya get home.’

‘wil do. promise ya wont find someone and forget about me? haha.’

“Never,” Parry said to himself, then he sighed loudly. ‘na, iz cool. I shud be done not 2 late. hav fun with ur dudes.’

‘bye… <3’

“A heart? Did you just send me a heart?” Parry put down the phone and sat at his computer again and re-logged onto the made-up page. He could not believe the sexual comments aimed at him on his fake profile.

“Now… if I could just look like that guy… I would get laid.” Parry leaned on his palm as he read the invitations and typed with one hand, only interested in one guy. A slut.

~

Trent tried again and again to find James Dean on the internet. He had no idea how many people had that name. It was impossible. And why did the guy have to block his number? Now Trent couldn’t do much to find him, or even see an area code.

The guy could be anywhere.

Trent put his phone down on the nightstand and tried to nap, but all he could think of was James.

~

Parry worked on websites and updated them for his clients. It kept his mind occupied and he even spent a few hours gaming with his online friends. He glanced at the clock; it was after seven p.m. How it had gotten that late he had no idea, but he had successfully killed off a Saturday. He logged back onto the social network.

“Seriously?” His own site had not one comment, not one friend request. He looked over the people that had friended him, and other than Marty, whose profile was only of his wife and kids having fun, and Antonio trying to pick up women, nothing was directed at him. Oh, other than game apps. He had enough online games. Too many.

Parry logged onto James Dean’s site. “Holy fuck! Come on.” Another fifty friend requests, invitations to private groups where men showed their cocks and hooked up, and question after question as to what his phone number was, where he lived, and could they jerk off over live video.

Parry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes in agony. “Life is so unfair.”

Before he pretended, once again, to be a gorgeous model online, Parry walked to the bathroom, set his glasses down, and stared at his face.

Was he ugly?

He picked up his brush and instead of parting his hair on the side, he brushed it straight back. “Yeck.” He tried to brush it over his forehead, but that didn’t work either. Maybe he needed a new haircut. One from a salon, not a barbershop.

He took off his shirt and stared at his hairless chest and slender form. He flexed but only a small muscle appeared on his biceps. He did not work out, got to a gym or lift weights. Nothing. Maybe he should. The vanity, the competition for a nice gay guy was killing him.

And worst of all? He was in the closet.

His two best friends didn’t know, and he sure as hell would never tell his religious, right-wing family.

When his cell phone rang it scared him to death. He put his glasses on and ran to where he had left it, by his computer. It was Antonio.

“Oh. Hey.” Parry sat down at his desk and began accepting friends on the fake profile, ‘click’, ‘click’, ‘click’…every handsome guy in the world wanted to be his ‘friend’. How nice. Perry frowned in anger.

“Hey, Parr- I need a wing-man. Christ, my mojo is all screwed up. I need to get laid!”

“Sure. I have nothing better to do than to stand there and see you cruise women at bars with cheesy pickup lines.”

“Hey, at least I’m out there. When was the last date you had?”

“I didn’t even go to the high-school prom. I’m turning into a priest.”

“Don’t do that. The little boys in your apartment building would be scared to death.” He laughed.

Parry got the humor but wasn’t amused. While on the phone, he answered a few messages on the social page with, ‘hey.’ ‘Hi’. ‘You too.’

“So? Where and when?” Parry asked with half a heart, not wanting to go anywhere.

“Don’t know. I’m all out of ideas. I swear, maybe you can help me write up one of those online dating profiles. Am I gross, Parry? I know it sounds gay to ask.”

“You’re not gross. You’re just obnoxious. I think you put girls off.”

“Well, you do nothing, and that doesn’t work either.”

“I can help you write something up. Just tell me when you want me to stop by.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“So, about tonight. I’d call Marty but he never comes alone and can’t ever find a babysitter.”

“Ummm.” Parry stared at Trent’s profile, looking over his photos and drooling. “You ever been to a place called El Coyote?”

“No, but I’m willing to try anything. Is it a bar?”

“I think it’s a restaurant. We can hit it first, then find a bar.”

“Sure. You want to go together?”

“No. If you meet someone, I’ll have to take a cab.”

“True.” Antonio laughed. “What time?”

“Eight?”

“See ya there.”

“Cool.” Parry hung up, looked up the restaurant online and checked out the menu. “Well, Trent Hill the slut, your stalker is back.”

Parry returned to the bathroom to pick up his shirt and looked at his hair again. It got him angry. He tossed the shirt down, took off his pants and started the shower.

As it heated up, he looked at the selection of hair gel he owned. He set one on the counter and stared into his brown eyes, then the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t shave this morning. He left it.

“I need a fucking makeover. I am sick of being an ugly nerd.” Parry touched his shoulders and wished he were big and buff. “And a gym membership…” He frowned and stepped into the shower to freshen up. “And a new personality…”

~

Trent parked near the restaurant, but had to walk a few blocks since the sign near the valet said ‘full’. In his tight black jeans, a black sleeveless T-shirt, sunglasses, and his best Manolo Blahnik shoes, he read his text messages as he walked, and felt, even at eight, the sun was still warm but a slight breeze was kicking in. He checked to see if James had updated his profile page, and could see the number of his hot male friends growing. Well, the guy was amazing.

He stopped on his way and texted him. ‘after dinner… can I call you? or am I bein a PITA?’

‘ha… sure. later.’

The fact he got a text right back made Trent smiled in excitement. He put his phone in his pocket, making his way to the packed restaurant. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but the food was decent. He stepped inside the door, and was hit with the bad acoustics. A small line had formed by the hostess’ desk. His name was called out. His buddies were there, at a large booth, and flagging him down.

Trent bypassed the waiting crowd and walked down an aisle between booths. The walls were painted with silly murals and lights were strung on the ceiling as if it were Christmas.

Brace stood and gestured for Trent to sit between him and Harvey. Trent nudged Brace and said, “I’ll take the end.”

“Then we can’t share you,” Harvey said with a sexy smile.

Vance asked, “You guys did a three-way?”

“Years ago.” Trent sat down across from Vance, Charlie, and Kiernan.

It was a large booth but six was pushing it. “This is the only table you could get?” Trent looked at it and could see the men had already been served ice water and alcoholic beverages.

“We were lucky to get this. Look at the line.” Brace gestured to the door.

Trent glanced up at the crowd. He thought he recognized one guy. A guy with dark-framed glasses, but his hair was different. He picked up his menu and read over the food selections. “I take it you all decided.”

“Yup.”

Trent glanced at Brace who was caressing his leg sensually.

A rushed waitress in a red flaring skirt came over and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

“Our buddy needs booze.” Vance pointed at Trent.

“It’s okay, I can get it with my food. Don’t chase her away, we may never get her back.”

The men around him began ordering. Trent looked up and noticed that guy with the glasses may have been staring his way, but quickly looked aside. Trent told the waitress, “A margarita and the tostado salad.” He handed the woman his menu.

The waitress tucked the menus under her arm and told Trent, “I will be right back with your drink.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Trent tried to stretch his legs but bumped into Vance under the table with his knees.

“Hello.” Vance grinned.

“Do not crawl under the table in here. There are kids everywhere.” Trent wagged his finger at him.

“Aw.” Vance pouted and then asked, “When will you actually date someone, Trent?”

“Never. Change the topic.”

Harvey said, “He doesn’t have to date. He gets laid and his cock sucked constantly.”

“Lucky fuck.” Charlie sipped his drink.

Trent didn’t answer, but checked his phone again.

“Expecting someone?” Brace leaned on his shoulder, as if trying to read the phone.

“Meeting someone on Grindr?”

“He doesn’t need a hookup,” Kiernan said, “He’s got five guys right here who’ll suck or fuck him.”

Trent pocketed the phone, not answering or commenting.

“We need to get high. Anyone want to do some coke in the men’s room?” Charlie asked.

“Rather do X.” Trent sat back when his cocktail was set down as well as ice water with a straw. A new basket of tortilla chips and salsa was placed down and the empty ones taken. “The food will be out shortly.”

“Take your time,” Vance said.

Brace nudged Trent. “X? Really?”

“You ever have sex on X?” Trent asked him.

“No.”

Trent just smirked. He looked at his phone again.

“Damn!” Brace said, “What the fuck, Trent? Who is he?”

All five men stopped short while eating chips and sipping drinks to lean over to Trent. “You have a new man?” Vance asked.

Trent put the phone back into his pocket. “Let me wash my hands.”

“You sure you don’t want coke?” Charlie tilted his head.

“Maybe later. Save it for the club.” Trent stood from the booth and walked to the men’s room. He removed his phone as he went and once inside the restroom, texted James, ‘y cant I stop thinkin about u?’

‘same here.’

‘where are u? I need u.’

‘busy. later?’

“Christ.” Trent moved out of the way for a man who entered the men’s room. They caught eyes for a moment and then the man stood at the urinal.

Trent put his phone into his pocket, washed his hands and checked his reflection in the mirror. He put his sunglasses on the top of his head, and had actually forgotten he was wearing them the whole time he was sitting with his friends.

The man slowly turned to face Trent, holding his cock, as if offering. Trent gave the man a closer inspection. He was good looking. Built.

Trent stepped closer. “I get sucked and do the fucking.”

“Either one. I’m good.”

Trent grabbed the guy’s arm and brought him into a stall. He nudged the guy to face the toilet and pulled the man’s pants down to his knees.

The man huffed for breath and placed both hands over the toilet against the far wall. Trent removed a condom and tiny package of lube from his pocket. He jerked himself hard, rolled on the condom, then oiled up his cock. He grabbed the man’s waist, and pushed in, hard.

The man arched his back and made a hissing noise that sounded like pain. Trent fucked him. Hard and fast. He closed his eyes and thought of fucking James. Oh, he would. He fucking would get that hot fucker.

Trent came and pushed deeper into the man, then he pulled out. Using toilet paper, he removed the condom and tossed it into the toilet. Then he wiped up the lube residue and opened the stall to leave.

“Wait. What about me?” the guy asked.

“I need to repeat myself?” Trent washed his hands at the sink and before he left he heard the guy mutter, “Conceited ass.”

Trent ignored it. He didn’t tell the guy he’d get him off. He didn’t ask the guy for sex. Why, when the men made all the offers and moves to hookup, did they get so defensive when he didn’t reciprocate? If he wanted to suck the guy’s cock or give him a hand job, he would have offered.

Trent did not offer.

He returned to the table to see the food being served.

After he sat down, the man he had just fucked walked by his table, giving Trent a look that could kill.

Harvey and Brace noticed it, since they were on the same side of the table as Trent. “What was that about?” Brace asked.

“He wanted me to fuck him. So? I did.” Trent put his napkin on his lap.

Vance choked. “You just fucked that stud?”

“Yeah.” Trent tasted the food, then sipped his drink.

“Trent Hill, you are unbelievable.” Kiernan shook his head.

Vance replied, “Trent Hill… you are a slut.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t care. He just ate his food. Trent figured if a man came on like that, in a public place, in a bathroom, without even knowing his name and offered sex? Screw him. He got what he deserved.

Trent felt Brace’s gaze on his profile. He looked at Brace curiously.

“I will never understand you, Trent.”

“Who’s asking you to?” Trent drank his ice water.

As the jealous-ruffled feathers of his friends subsided, they began once again to discuss fashion, the celebrity gossip of the week, and all the garbage that bored Trent senseless. Trent stared at his food as he ate, not interacting, feeling like an empty shell.

And to top it off? James Dean was probably with some amazing guy… a smart guy. One that had traveled the world. Models. Actors. Trent tried not to sink mentally, but it wasn’t easy.

~

“Man, his place is too crowded.” Antonio folded his arms over his chest as they waited by the door.

“Smells good. I bet the food is good.”

“What did you do to your hair?”

Parry turned to look at Antonio. “Does it look terrible?”

“You styled it or something. You always part it on the side.”

“Answer me.”

“I don’t know. Ask a chick! I can’t tell you if it looks terrible. I’m not gay, dude.”

Parry rolled his eyes and finally spotted Trent seated at a large booth with his friends. He was texting.

Parry’s phone hummed. He took it out. Trent had sent, ‘where are u? can I call u?’

‘busy. sorry.’

Antonio asked, “Is that Marty?”

“No. One of my gaming friends.” Parry looked at Trent’s expression. He seemed disappointed.

They finally got a table near the restroom. Parry sat down across from Antonio and picked up the menu as chips, salsa, and hot sauce dip were set before them.

“Anything to drink?”

Parry said, “Just water.”

“I’ll take a beer,” Antonio said, and the waiter left.

Antonio looked over the menu. “Ya can’t pick up women here. Look. It’s mostly families and couples. You have to help me with an online thing.”

“I said I will.” Parry looked up to see Trent coming his way. He hid behind the menu until Trent walked by, and quickly glanced at his ass and legs in the tight jeans.

Antonio was oblivious.

A minute later, a handsome man also walked by their booth to the restroom. Parry thought… nah, no way. Not here in a family place.

Ten minutes later, Trent returned to his booth and the man, almost at his tail, gave the table Trent sat at a nasty glare; aimed at Trent Hill.

“Oh, my God.”

“What?” Antonio looked up from his menu.

Parry could not believe it, but oh, yes, Trent Hill had done something with that man in the men’s room. “Unbelievable.”

“What!” Antonio grew frustrated.

The waiter set a glass of beer in front of Antonio and water near Perry. “Are you ready to order?”

Both men told the waiter their choices. He nodded and left.

Antonio scanned the crowd. “Jesus, Parry. Why here?”

“I told you. We can eat dinner and then you can cruise for women. Okay? Jesus, Antonio. Jerk off to porn.”

“I do. I’m sick of it.”

“Maybe your expectations are too high. I mean…” Parry noticed two average looking women eating dinner together. “What about them? They look sweet.”

Antonio turned to look. “I don’t want sweet. I want to get laid.”

“You see?” Parry took insult. “Average people, people who are not models or gorgeous, get ignored! I hate it.”

“Dude. Chill.”

Parry stewed. “It’s all about looks, body… fuck that.”

“You’re in LA. Go to the Midwest.” Antonio laughed.

“But…” Parry tilted his head to the women. “I’ll bet they’re really smart. Great to hang out with.”

“I’m not stopping you. Buy them a drink. Are they wearing rings?”

“I can’t tell.”

“Parry, if you like those women, then go for it. They aren’t my taste, but I’ll play your wingman for once.”

“I can’t. I’m not like you.” He ate a tortilla chip.

“Like me how?”

“I’m shy. I can’t just walk up to someone and try a pickup line.”

“Well, believe me, my pickup lines need some updating.” Antonio turned to look at the women again. “That one on the right isn’t bad.”

“Then buy her a drink.”

“Will you hang with the ugly one if I do?”

“Ugly? She’s not ugly! How can you say that? Do you think you’re handsome? Huh? You shallow asshole.”

“Whoa, dude!” Antonio held up his hand. “Chill. You are tightly wound.”

“I’m sick of this! Sick of everyone being so stuck on looks. On what someone’s fucking outer shell looks like. Damn it. There are a lot of nice people out here! Ya know?”

Antonio sipped his beer and kept quiet.

Parry’s phone hummed. He never received anything but game requests, and usually turned off his phone when he was out with friends, but not since James Dean was invented.

Trent texted him, ‘where r u? r u in CA?’

Antonio signaled to the waiter. Parry didn’t text back, holding the phone and looking at Trent as he held his phone low and text on it at the table.

“Hey, could you buy those two women a round of whatever they’re having and say it’s from us?” Antonio pointed to the two ladies.

The waiter smiled and Parry shook his head adamantly. “Oh no. No way. I’m going to leave if you do that. I said, you buy it for your pick up. Don’t get me involved.”

“But you just said you’d go with the… other one.”

“You can buy them drinks. I’m not hungry anyway.” Parry looked at the waiter. “Can you bring me my dinner in a box and the check?”

“Certainly.”

Once he left, Antonio gave Parry a look of exasperation. “Dude. You just said you’d go with that chick.”

“No. I did not. You said I would.”

“I can’t hit on her alone.”

“Why not? Sure you can. Go sit with them. I’d bet they’d love it.” Parry didn’t care. He needed to go. Now. He was about to explode.

“Come with me! That’s what wingmen do!”

The waiter brought a box of food for Parry and the check. Then he gave Antonio his meal on a platter.

“Here.” Parry paid it, and said, “Keep the change.”

“Thank you. A check for you too, sir?” the waiter asked Antonio.

“No. Buy those girls a drink from me.” He scowled at Parry.

“See ya.” Parry took his box and walked down the aisle between booths. First, he inspected the two women. They seemed very sweet and smiled kindly at him. He smiled back.

Then he drew near Trent’s table. As he did he slowed down deliberately.

Trent had his attention on his phone, staring at it on his lap. His friends were talking about some meaningless celebrity wedding and another ridiculous internet video of more insidious stars fighting on camera.

Trent seemed like an outsider. His food uneaten, his drink sucked to the bottom. Not one of the men at Trent’s table even bothered to look at Parry, like he was invisible.

Parry left the restaurant. The minute he was in his car, he put the food on the floor of the passenger’s seat and called Trent. His heart was in his throat and he was panic-stricken.