Months had passed, but the weight of failures and disappointments that had happened to Elio hadn't lessened. If there's anything, it has only grown heavier. But at least there were three things he's still thankful for despite all the unfortunate events: a decent apartment to live in, some food to put on his plate, and a job (even if it doesn't pay well.)
That thought reminds him of his piling debts and bills to pay. At least it motivated him to work long shifts at the café, where he worked part-time, to save money and pay for those obligations. He endured the stinging scent of coffee ruining his clothes and the soreness of his hands from scrubbing tables and carrying trays. But no matter how hard he worked, the money was never enough.
That was why he applied for a job at "Velvet's," a not-so-popular nightclub that caters to wealthy gay men. Despite the poor working conditions, the pay was better than others, and the tips were generous, too. Of course, he had some reservations but couldn't afford to be picky. The only problem with the job was the location. The club was too far from where he lived, and transportation was out of the question. Now that he's on his own, every cent matters to him, so he chooses the "free" option: walking.
The shortest route to Velvet's was through Shallowmoore Alley, a narrow, dimly lit street tucked away from the main roads. It was an odd place, actually. The place was quiet despite the city's usual noise and always cold, even in the middle of summer. But it was faster to walk there than to take the main roads, and that was all that mattered.
Yet, something about it unsettled him.
Everyday he passed through that street, his eyes would be drawn to a vacant lot between two towering ash trees. It is weird because it is unusual for an Ash tree to grow in that area and condition. Each time his gaze fell on that spot, he could feel something was there, something was watching...but he couldn't see it.
But again, he brushed off that thought in his mind. It was not his priority to think about trivial things that wouldn't help or solve his problems, especially money.
-----
"Okay, Elio. You can do this..."
Elio adjusted his vest and took a deep breath before stepping into Velvet's. The lights made everything feel dizzy, almost feverish. The air inside was thick with the strong scent of cologne, alcohol, and something heavier—something unspoken.
It was his third week working at Velvet's, but he still wasn't used to the work. The way the men looked at him like he was something to be owned, admired, touched? Those are the things he cannot really stand. But he doesn't have a choice. The café job wasn't enough. Rent was coming up. His options were limited.
"Elio," his manager, a sharp-eyed man named "Briggs" called. "Table seven. Be nice, okay?!"
Be nice. Elio knew what that meant.
Elio picked up the tray of drinks and approached the table as requested. He found three old men in sleek suits and loose ties there. Elio was slightly alarmed, as those men were used to getting what they wanted.
One of them, a gray-haired man with cold blue eyes, smirked lewdly as Elio politely set the drinks down on their tables. "I haven't seen you before here."
"I'm new," Elio's reply was short, keeping his voice even.
Another man tilted his head while gazing at Elio's face as if he were some kind of an object in an auction being appraised. "You have a lovely face."
Elio forced a polite but uncomfortable smile. "Thank you. Is there anything else I can get you?"
The man ignored the question, fingers grazing Elio's wrist. Not enough to be obvious, but enough for these men to get excited.
Elio swallowed hard. His instinct was to pull away his hands, but he knew better. This job wasn't just about serving drinks. It was about entertaining them.
"Why don't you talk?" The man leaned in, his voice low and suggesting. "I don't like it when my toy is quiet and still..."
Elio's stomach twisted in disgust upon hearing the words. He felt trapped in that situation, like a bird in a cage where the bars were invisible, but it was there, and it was unbreakable.
He wanted to leave. But he also wanted to have something in his stomach tomorrow.
So he stayed.
Fortunately enough, he survived the night. His body ached from navigating through crowds, balancing trays, and dodging wandering hands. His pockets were heavier with tips, but it never felt like enough.
After serving several tables, he stepped into the backroom for a break, pressing his palms against his face. He was so tired, almost drained.
"It's okay, newbie...you'll get used to it."
Elio looked up to see who spoke to him. His co-worker, Gabe, another server, lit a cigarette near the back door.
"Do you?" Elio asked, his voice hollow.
Gabe exhaled, smoke curling in the air. "No." He glanced at Elio. "But I learned to stop caring. That way, you can't seem to care anymore about them..."
Elio wasn't sure if that helped him or not.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. He couldn't afford to stop his work, which pays well, just because he was not used to the job.
Not yet.
Outside, the music pulsed, men laughed, and the night stretched on.
Tomorrow, he will do it all again.
----
Fortunately, Elio quickly adapted to the "unspoken rules" at Velvet's: smile, amuse the patrons, and refrain from retaliating. However, there are moments when he finds it impossible to tolerate the looks, the unwanted touches, and the men's ulterior intentions, which were evident from the beginning.
"Elio, Table eleven." Manager Brigg's voice was firm, but something else there made Elio's stomach tighten. A warning.
Elio knew it would be a tough night when Gabe, his co-worker, pulled him aside before his shift.
Elio glanced across the dimly lit nightclub, spotting table eleven in the VIP section. A man sat alone, swirling a glass of whiskey. He looked different from the usual patrons. He is younger and handsome, with sharp features and an unreadable expression. He looked expensive, but eerie vibes circled around him, something cold...something dangerous.
"Elio." Manager Brigg's voice snapped him back. "Do what you're told. Understood?"
Elio nodded stiffly and made his way over.
The man looked up as Elio approached. His eyes were filled with menace, piercing, as if they could see through him.
"So, you're the new one." His voice was smooth and amused. "Sit."
Elio hesitated. Servers weren't supposed to sit with customers. But as his manager said, do what you are told.
Slowly, he lowered himself onto the seat across from the man.
"What's your name?" the man asked, though Elio suspected he already knew his name.
"Elio," he answered.
The man smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink. "It means the "sun." Nice name for someone like you..."
What does he mean by that? Elio thought to himself as if this guy was belittling him. He forced himself to stay still, trying not to react. The man brushed his fingers over Elio's wrist as if he were testing him, and he was interested to see how Elio would respond.
And then—
The man's grip tightened enough for the young man to be startled with fear.
"Do you really think you can run away from your debts from me, Elio?" His voice was low, almost too soft beneath the background music, but enough to send chills through anyone's spine. Elio was stunned at that moment, trying to collate the memories he had with this guy in the past. It turns out this man owned one of the companies he went to for a scammed loan. He's now here for him, to get a payback.
Elio's pulse quickened. "I..." He cannot find the right words to say. "...I'm not running; I work here to pay you..."
The man hummed, his thumb stroking over Elio's skin. "Is that so? Do you think what you earn here is enough to pay me?"
Elio didn't answer. He couldn't. That's one reality he cannot deny.
Then the man's grip tightened even more, enough to leave some mark on Elio's wrist, but enough to make Elio realize one thing—he's done. This man will never let him go without anything in return to pay his debt.
"So, what will you do to pay me, huh?" the man asked, smirking.
Elio shook his head. The tension and fear splashed at him like waves in the ocean. But he can't fight back, especially when he is being watched by the manager from a distance to see if he's doing his job well.
The man grinned more broadly. From Elio's thigh to his crotch, he rubs his fingers through it. The man said, leaning close to Elio, "How about this? If you want, we can make some special arrangements, enough to pay your debts."
Elio tried to pull away, but the stranger continued, his lips brushing his ear. Elio's stomach churned as if he may puke up at any second. "Play along," he muttered, "...or this night will be worse for you."
Are people like this? They are the ones who treat people like commodities and think that anything, including people, can be bought with money.
Anyhow, he didn't have a choice.
For the rest of the night, he sat there, barely moving, barely breathing, shaking, as the man toyed him with indecent touches—tracing his fingers along to his chest and in between his legs, whispering obscene things beyond imagination, too low for others to hear, controlling his every movement.
Elio attempted to gulp down the lump of contempt and embarrassment in his throat. He nearly cried out for assistance but restrained himself because he knew that if he fought back, there would be no turning back. He realized disobeying was the worst thing you could do at The Velvet's.
Elio's shift ended not as smoothly or peacefully as he wanted. Still, at least he survived without much damage to his dignity. The customer was satisfied. But after what happened to him all night, he doesn't have the energy to think about what might happen to him the next time that man visits the club. He left his locker without delay, packed his things, and walked home.
As usual, he passed through that particular hollow spot at Shallowmoore. His eyes were drawn again to that vacant lot between two towering ash trees. He stopped for a moment and stared at it. Something was mesmerizing about that vacant lot. He can sense peace, which he has been trying to have for the past few months.
But somehow, that peace was so hard to reach...peace he could hardly have.