First class pain in the ass

[Rey Nino]

"I'd prefer it," he said instantly. No way did he want to stay with some mystery person named Angel. Any friend of Jaime's--well. He couldn't in good conscience talk shit about Jaime's friends because his own boyfriend was his friend... somehow. If he had more money and more say, he would say he'd make arrangements for a hotel right now but he knew he was at their mercy, which only made the whole situation worse.

At least he had Jen. Although she could be overbearing sometimes, she was a damn sight more comfortable to be around than Jaime. And she actually liked him. Maybe too much, he didn't know. Once there'd been an... ahem... moment between them that he'd had to kindly reject, seeing as he wasn't sexually attracted to women. If he was, though... He didn't know. Jen had a boyfriend and Rey was prone to jealousy. He didn't think he and Jen ever would have made a good match, even if he was bisexual or straight.

[Jennifer Garcia]

"Maybe I'll book a room just in case," Jen muttered to herself as the seatbelt sign came on. She pulled it across her lap and reclined to flip through the list of hotels in Portland, frowning at the ones she didn't like. That occupied her for about an hour, and then she tossed the phone aside and settled down to sleep. Nothing really to do while they were up in the skies and she, for one, didn't want to keep talking about her boyfriend running away from home like a stupid adolescent kid.

Jaime seemed preoccupied with his party scheme too but Jen already knew he would try something like that. New places, new faces, plenty of parties to keep him entertained. Boring—didn't he get tired of all that nonsense? He couldn't sustain that kind of lifestyle forever! But he also wouldn't listen to reason and usually it was easier to let him be than to argue with him and have to put up with him being flippant about everything.

She slept for most of the trip, waking up only to stretch her legs, glare at her brother's comments about her bedhead and scroll through social media. By the time they landed Jen was on the verge of murder—long flights didn't do her temper any good. A car was already waiting outside the airport and the driver had a cute American accent. He tried to speak some Spanish, but he sounded vaguely... Mexican. Not pure Spanish. Jen smiled at him as she passed by, sliding into the back seat.

"I need a shower so badly," she confided to Rey as she made eyes at the driver.

[Julio de la Rosa]

Nothing felt right anymore.

Julio didn't understand it.

Didn't they trust one another? Julio kept lifting his phone up, waiting for some kind of text or explanation from Angel. But there was nothing. And he wanted to reach out, to ask what was going on but he was half afraid of the answer. It... it would be better in person, he decided. But then, if he knew what was happening, would he better prepared?

Gathering the usual items for a private show, his heart was heavy as he got into the car with the others. Logan and Sean were horsing around as usual. No surprise there. After their texts, though, Julio thought Sean looked at him as if he had questions. As if he knew everything wasn't okay with him. Logan was completely oblivious. He seemed to be in a great mood but he had always loved his job with unbridled enthusiasm.

Again, Julio looked at his phone, at the half of a message he had started to type but had never sent to Angel. He was nervous. Honestly, he was afraid. But he didn't really know quite how to deal with his feelings on the matter right now. He... trusted Angel, did he not? And so he tried--his hardest--to reserve his worries and concerns for when they met again. Maybe... maybe it wasn't Angel. Maybe it was his family. Although that didn't seem likely...?

[Angel Miguel Albares]

Somehow, the past always had a way of catching up to him. Angel didn't know what to do when Jaime messaged him out of the blue to tell him that he, his sister and 'some poor person' were all staying with him. He thought it was a joke and didn't even respond. Why would he? Jaime did nothing but torture him when they went to school together. Why should he acquiesce to the demands of a bully?

But then that familiar face showed up at his door and Jaime waltzed right in and took over--like he always did. Any time Jaime went somewhere, he seemed to act like he owned the place and people like Angel let him. Because they were weak. Because turning them out didn't seem right but letting them stay also didn't feel good.

Yet here they were. Jaime threw a party the next night--at his place. Angel didn't say much. He felt himself sliding back into his old ways, silently letting Jaime walk and talk all over him. Part of him wanted to talk to Julio, to ask his advice, but he knew that Julio wouldn't want to be involved with this bunch. The 'poor person' called Rey didn't seem bad. A little intimidating, but not bad. Jen was just as overbearing as her brother and together the two of them took over.

So there he was at the party, hiding out in a corner while strangers danced and drank and snorted lines on his coffee table. The doorbell rang again; somebody went to get it and the volume in the place ramped up once a bunch of men entered, dressed as firemen. Angel was about to flee to the balcony when he saw Julio...

He swore the world bottomed out from under him. Julio? And--Logan. Other dancers. Here for a private show. But Julio didn't do private shows anymore... Or so he claimed...

[Julio de la Rosa]

He was miserable.

He was unhappy.

And he wasn't doing a killer job of pretending otherwise. Of course he was silent the entire way there; he was always silent. But he was withdrawn in a way that he hadn't been in a while, with these guys, these people who were his friends. Yet he hadn't told them anything about why he stopped with the private shows or his fears and anxiety. Only Angel knew.

So why would he...

Julio didn't understand. Desperately, he tried to. He tried to make some sense of it as they entered the all too familiar penthouse. And he looked. He looked for him. For Angel. With half hope and half fear clutching at his heart. While the others were all loudly chattering and grinning and happily readying for work, Julio was looking for Angel.

Was... he even here? What happened? Did he suddenly move? But no. No... there he was, somehow. In a corner. By himself. Julio felt so many things when he saw him. Angel didn't look at all happy to be here, either. What happened? He kept thinking it, over and over again. Julio tried to make his way over to Angel but Logan slipped his head in a headlock and there was laughter and joking.

While the others readied themselves for the show, this time Julio pulled out his phone and deleted what he had written and instead sent, Angel? What is happening?

[Angel Miguel Albares]

It was Julio...

There was Logan creeping up on him but Angel didn't even see him--funny because the only person he used to go to that club to see was Logan. But someone else had taken his place now, someone else had outshone him and all without saying a single word.

Angel felt... confused. Odd. He didn't know what he should think about Julio being here, if he should be angry or suspicious or more trusting. Did Julio have an explanation for this? Jaime didn't mention he hired strippers but this seemed up his alley somehow. Strippers. Hookers. Blow. He had the trifecta.

They made eye contact and Angel's stomach flipped unpleasantly. His heart lurched. He wanted to give Julio the benefit of the doubt, definitely, so he was trying not to jump to any conclusions. Before he could go over to ask Julio what he was doing here--his phone, he realized, wasn't on him and it looked like Julio was texting someone--somebody hooked an arm around him. Angel looked up, startled.

Some random guy with a beer in one hand was grinning at him. "Hola," he said pleasantly. "I've been watching you. You look uncomfortable. Want to go outside?" The music came on and Angel looked up at Julio with panic in his eyes, to see one of the other strippers pulling him away. The show was starting, apparently.

[Rey Nino]

Great. For some damn reason, Jaime decided to call in strippers. Strippers. Rey wanted out. Now. He tried to find Jen to talk to her about that hotel thing but she seemed too absorbed in whatever was happening, in the drinks and the party atmosphere.

Music started playing and the strippers started doing their thing. Rey frowned mightily and turned away, about to leave the party and find something to occupy himself with when he saw one of Jaime's pervy friends making moves on an obviously uncomfortable Angel.

Rey noticed when they barged in that Angel seemed less than thrilled with Jaime crashing his place. Another reason to leave; they weren't wanted here. But now he was glad he hadn't left because Angel looked like he was ready to be accosted. Rey moved in between the pervert and Angel.

"Is this guy bothering you, Angel?"

[Angel Miguel Albares]

"No I'm fine... no I don't want..."

The guy was trying very hard to lead him outside where there were fewer people clustered together. Some were enjoying the pool but most were here, watching the show. Apparently everyone knew about the strippers except the person who owned the suite.

Angel kept an eye on Julio--or tried to--while resisting the overly friendly guy. He smelled like liquor and the way he smiled made Angel's skin crawl. The look in his eyes was too familiar. The way he rubbed Angel's arm was very much unwelcomed.

"Rey..." He turned again to see where Julio was and caught a movement. Costumes were coming off now, flesh was exposed. Something heavy landed in his chest and he quickly looked away, back to Rey. He was the only nice one of the group, really. Angel nodded slightly and hugged himself. "I want to... to leave," he said quietly.

"Hey what the fuck! Who the fuck are you?!" The drunk guy shoved at Rey aggressively.

[Julio de la Rosa]

Julio fought against the hand on his arm, dragging him over to the others. He hadn't come here for this. He never wanted to do this again. Just being here made his head swim and his throat close up with anxiety and visions of aggressive partiers with their hands where he didn't want them. Drugs. Helpless to do anything. His heart beat frantically.

And not just for himself.

Somebody was bothering Angel and Julio didn't even have a voice to shout, to be heard. His phone had been useless. And now Angel was looking at him with eyes that could have broken a stone cold heart. It shattered Julio's.

Luckily, somebody stepped in, somebody closer, somebody able to use his voice. But that didn't stop Julio from moving away from the others and pushing his way through people trying to touch him, to pull his clothes off. He wasn't a person when he came to these things, he was nothing but entertainment, theirs to do with as they pleased. The richer the client, the worse the behavior.

Julio saw the creep push the person who stepped in on Angel's behalf and he was almost there when the guy unexpectedly hauled back and punched the drunk man with a hard right hook that sent the guy reeling backward and over a table nearby.

"Are you okay?" the other guy asked Angel. Julio hovered close by, eyes only on Angel. The other guy didn't even seem aware of his presence.

[Angel Miguel Albares]

The punch startled them both—Angel and the guy trying to hit on him. While the drunk guy fell over backwards with a loud shout and a string of curses, Angel hugged himself tighter and tighter and tighter, feeling that horrible iron band crushing around his chest. He started to shake; the breaths came in small but violent bursts as air ran out in his lungs.

All around him was the noise and the music and voices, laughter and shouting, a wall of stimulus. It was too much. It was all too much for him, when he had been living in silence for so long all on his own. Even when the guy fell over, nobody noticed. They were all drunk or high; the ones around them seemed to find it funny, even, pointing and laughing like hyenas.

But Angel didn't think it was funny. A loud ringing started up in his ears again and his vision tunnelled into the past, to another party just like this one, also hosted by Jaime. But back then he had been fifteen, young and impressionable and eager to fit in. He went to the party alone where another older guy tried to be friendly and he bought it. They went upstairs; Angel didn't know what that really meant at the time. He thought... they would talk. Someone older paying him attention was flattering.

"I can't..." He looked up at Rey finally with desperate eyes. "Please get—get me out... I have to get out..." And then his gaze started to dart around, looking for a way out. Looking for an exit. The door was blocked; there were too many people thronging around the strippers. Angel's eyes skimmed over Julio but he didn't even see him. He didn't see anything except his desire to get away from the noise and the laughter and the music—and the ringing in his ears.

Then suddenly, Angel ran. He bolted for the open door to the balcony, clipping people as he passed them by. He ran... he ran to the edge of the balcony, right to the ledge and he stood there teetering over the brink, looking down at the expanse of open air and freedom. The wind buffeted his hair as he leaned forward, steeling himself for the jump.

He had to get out.

[Julio de la Rosa]

"Yeah, okay, I'll--" The guy called Rey reached out as if to take Angel's hand or arm but Angel panicked. Something inside him seemed to go off, at all the people, at the music, the laughter, the shouting. Julio understood. He understood. But when Angel looked right through him, his heart dropped. And then it beat impossibly fast when Angel took off like a skittish animal.

"Hey--!" Rey said, looking like he was going to give chase but Julio put his hand on his chest to stop him, then ran after Angel himself. It wasn't easy. Angel ran like he didn't see anything in front of him and Julio was trying to run around people, keeping his eyes on Angel as he did.

All he could see was Angel.

And then they were out, out on the balcony. Up, up, up. Too high. So high. And Angel looked like he was going to do it; he was going to jump. Julio, frightened that he was going to send Angel over the edge, slowed and moved around Angel. As much as he wanted to grab him and pull him in close, and away, he was so so scared that if he did... if he did... Angel might just do it. Jump.

So he put out his hand slowly before Angel, so that he could see it, in front of him, where he could hopefully see it and not through it. Slowly, he touched his face, as he had done many times before. Gently, gingerly, carefully.

[Angel Miguel Albares]

One step forward, two steps back. That was how it always went. He took one step towards the ledge and then two back, never quite making that final plunge. Tonight, everything around him drove him to the brink. Two steps forward, zero steps back.

Angel couldn't breathe. The night air sliced through his lungs like a knife, cutting him deep, cutting him down to the core. He wanted so badly to jump. Somebody screamed behind him and he heard a commotion, as if people were finally noticing him dancing at the ledge, prepared to end it all. And he was. If Julio wasn't who he thought he was—if he maybe lied, if he was only here because Angel was stupid enough to think that he could draw Julio's attention—then there wasn't much to hang around for. As sad as that was. There wasn't much to live for.

Someone came up beside him and he skittered away, startled and defensive and frightened. Another creep? At first he still didn't see Julio. Just another person, another reason to jump. Angel even started to put his foot out, looking right through Julio, but then... Then the hand touched his face. He knew that touch.

"Julio?" He asked in a scared whisper, finally looking at him instead of past him. Was that him? In that silly outfit? Julio looked scared too; it was in his eyes, the way he looked at Angel. Was Julio scared of him? Angel reached up to touch his hand, still breathing erratically. "Julio... I have to-to get—to go." His eyes flicked away again, to the vast space off the side of the balcony. "I have to..."

[Julio de la Rosa]

Julio shook his head. No. No. He didn't have to go. He didn't have to jump. Gently, he turned Angel's face toward him, in a bid to keep his gaze from going back to that vast nothingness beyond the balcony. If Angel jumped... if he jumped... Julio couldn't. He couldn't let him. He couldn't watch him kill himself.

"Please," he signed. "Don't. Don't jump."

Slowly, he took a single step closer to Angel, half afraid that if he got too close he would send him flying off that balcony but half afraid that if he didn't get close enough, he was going to lose him anyway.

Gently, he caressed Angel's face with his fingertips. His other hand rose to the other side of his face. How he wished he could speak with his mouth, with his actual words, with a voice. It had never been more frustrating than in this moment, when he couldn't say anything, to be heard over the cacophony of the rowdy party-goers and music.

[Angel Miguel Albares]

No? Don't jump? But... But he was finally here. He was finally at the edge, ready and willing to take the plunge down into darkness. He could close his eyes and fly and all of his troubles would be gone, right? No more nightmares, no more looking into the mirror to see his own darkness staring back at him, no more cold nights and frigid hearts. No more... nothingness...

Julio's hands though, they were warm, both of them. Angel kept getting distracted by different things. The noises around them one second, the whistle of the wind past his ears, Julio's hands, the ledge. "Julio..." Julio couldn't speak but at that moment Angel didn't need more noise adding confusion to his brain. And Julio never needed to talk to be expressive. His eyes, his expression, the tension in his body and his hands, those all spoke on his behalf.

Angel took an unsteady step closer to him, drawn in by his touch and his eyes. The sadness in them, he knew it. It was his own sadness. He... had been prepared to share his story with Julio before all of this happened. He thought Julio wouldn't judge him; Julio had been through the same thing. Then his plans were derailed and...

All of a sudden the world came crashing down over his ears. The noises increased tenfold, driving him to the brink of madness. He threw himself into Julio's arms and clung to him tight and buried his face against Julio's chest to try and block out the sounds around him. Then suddenly somebody yanked hard on him—and on Julio—to pull them back down onto the balcony, off the ledge. Angel fell awkwardly, banging his elbow. The pain brought him back to the present, where a furious-looking Jaime was standing over them and yelling at them for being stupid assholes and almost falling over the edge...

For some reason, Angel laughed.

[Julio de la Rosa]

Ah. Julio's arms immediately wrapped safely around Angel, thankful for how tightly Angel clung to him. He turned his head into him, breathing him in, lips gently brushing his temple, the tip of his ear. He wished again he could speak but nothing could slip past his lips. All he could do was hold him close and keep him there. Relief had just washed over him when fear jolted unpleasantly through him as they were both jerked away from the ledge.

His heart thudded so hard that he felt its pounding in his ears. Stubbornly, he held onto Angel, half afraid he was going to be shaken from his grasp and fall back and down, down, down... Inside, he shivered. His heart shivered at the idea.

Even as they were on the ground together, his heart still beat hard, his arms still held Angel. Slowly, he looked up at one of the party guys and his eyes narrowed. But Angel laughed. Startled, Julio looked over at him. Why was he laughing?