The dream came to me vague yet at the same time lucid— a confused array of images whose meaning was nevertheless curiously clear. I woke up bathed in cold sweat, revulsion coiling my stomach.

I thought I had forgotten.

I was wrong.

*****

We met two years ago at a gathering, one of those endless black-tie affairs. I was sitting on a sofa in a far corner of the room, nursing a glass of champagne, temporarily forgotten. I was of little use there, the event being more of a business rather than the usual social gathering. In fact, there were only a handful of us "boys" present, all looking lost and out-of-place. Brad was nowhere in sight. I sat in my corner brooding and for the hundredth time wishing he hadn’t taken me along. He had already told me that night that I was to stay home but at the last minute changed his mind. It was strange seeing him like that, all troubled and undecided.

In the twilight circle, he was known as G--. Of course, that wasn’t his real name. Behind the closed doors of VIP rooms and swank private bars, no one would dare address each other by their real names. Before that night, I knew him only by reputation. He could get things done— for the right price.

He had caught my attention the moment he arrived. From my isolated corner of the room I saw him step through the door, an unattractive specimen of a man, tall although a little on the heavy side. He had a slightly disproportioned skull, his jutting forehead emphasized by a prematurely receding hairline. There was nothing elegant about him, no look of distinction which for the most part can be found in most of the men in the room. But the way he moved, the way his eyes would roam around--exacting, all-encompassing--told me he was not one to be underestimated.

I watched him from where I sat, watched him swagger around with that phony smile pasted on his greasy, pock-marked face. He saw me, caught me watching him, as his eyes scanned the room a second time. Our gazes locked and I noted distastefully how his eyes raked over me, stroking me with its invisible touch.

*****

The night air blew in from the open window cooling the sweat on my skin. I was shivering, but not from the cold. I glanced at the clock. It was 1:45 am.

I reached over, picked up the phone, and dialed his number.

One ring.

Two rings.

"Hello?"

His voice came through the line, strong and clear. I felt the tension in my stomach ease.

"It’s me," I said softly.

A brief silence and then, "Nagi."

"I…I was just…did I wake you?"

A sigh. "No. I wasn’t asleep. Why? What’s wrong?"

I fiddled with the cord, twining it around my fingers, suddenly unsure. He had told me once before, though not directly, that I wasn’t to call him in his house— their house. He mentioned it once but never made it clear. There was no reason to. He knows I wouldn’t put him through the risk. But now this. Why did I call? No reason. I just wanted to hear his voice. It was a stupid move.

I heard a sound in the background. A female voice. She was still up.

"Uh, nothing. It’s nothing. I’m sorry."

Click.

I hung up on him.

I drew the sheets up around me and hugged my knees to my chest, afraid to fall asleep, afraid of the dreams.

****

The door opened slowly and I heard someone step into the room. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. There was a clicking sound as the door slid shut. Locked.

"So, I finally got you all to myself."

"You know who I am?" I asked from my place by the window where I stood with my back turned.

A chuckle. "Yes. I know who you are."

I turned to face him. "Then you know what this is about."

"Of course," he said, already beginning to undo his tie as he walked towards me. "How many votes do you need?"

I was silent for a moment. The truth was, Brad never said anything bout him, never mentioned him to me. In fact, this little rendezvous was not necessary at all. But I knew he needed four votes. That four votes would make all the difference for him.

I felt my skin crawl with disgust as G-- began take off his clothes. His paunch bulged grotesquely, hanging over his blue cotton briefs. I felt bile rise up my throat. Suddenly, I wanted out.

"Five," I said, looking him straight in the eye. Three was a high enough number. Even with his influence, I doubt he could give me five.

He straightened up slowly, eyes meeting my challenging gaze.

"Ah, five…"

He swaggered across the room, half-naked, to the room’s mini-bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. He watched me warily as he drank and I turned away, hating the look in those predatory eyes.

"You drive a hard bargain, Nagi Naoe."

My eyes flicked back towards him sharply. He caught the surprised expression in my face before I was able to mask it. I saw his lips curve up slightly.

There in the twilight circle, where men hide themselves behind closed doors and phony identities, the "boys" were just "boys." We had no names.

"Does he make you do it?"

My expression hardened. "No. He doesn’t make me do anything. I’m here because I want to be here."

"Ah, I see." He put down his glass, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Then he’s one lucky bastard."

He walked up to me. "Five?" He tipped my chin up with a pudgy finger, studying my face. "I guess it’s worth it. I hear you’re the best. You’ll give me what I want, won’t you angel? I’ve never had anyone as pretty as you." His hand slid down my ass, giving it a cruel squeeze.

He chuckled as he felt me tense up. "Ah, yes angel…I’ll teach you a thing or two tonight. It’ll be something you won’t forget."