Grind'r Stranger : The origins of Evil !

Chapter 1

Summer 2012 - 26 YEARS.

Of the mythical LGBT places I could visit, be they saunas, bars, cafes, or porn cinemas, it was the New Cancan nightclub (not so new anymore) that I preferred.

Since I was sixteen, these places outside the heterosexual norm were my refuge, my family. When I rented my first apartment, the most important criterion was its proximity to my headquarters. There, every weekend, I allowed myself to not exist as the simulacrum of myself that I tried to play every day. I could dance to the rhythm of glasses of orange vodka until I lost my mind. It's easy to say that you don't remember anything the next day, because first of all, you tend to make mistakes, and secondly, this way you can avoid the subject, which is still fresher in your memory than you'd like.

Then I graduated. I don't need to tell you where I celebrated the event. Michel (the boss) really wanted to celebrate my success in style, and there was no need for a guest list; the regulars would be there. Besides, that night, while kissing Damien, I felt the cliché of the stupid bodybuilder, a hesitant hand tapping me on the shoulder. I couldn't get mad about something like that. As if in slow motion, I craned my neck to plunge my murderous gaze into his. Following his social survival instinct, the pest backed away three steps.

I don't know how to explain it, but the desperation that showed on his worry-lined face sobered me instantly. Given the price of his watch, he was worth taking an interest in. So I ordered Mister Fitness not to move and invited the gentleman to follow me. There was no need to make a pass, for the tide of nocturnal creatures parted, as if propelled by my charisma, like the Red Sea for Moses. The respect, terror and desire I inspired were still incomprehensible to me, but I loved the feeling of power.

The only place quiet enough to talk was in the basement, right next to the toilets. With my eyes, I looked for Pascal, the staff member from AIDES, who was soliciting volunteers for a quick HIV test. After the usual pleasantries, I borrowed the keys to the cafeteria that was at his disposal. At last my curiosity was to be satisfied. This promiscuity crushed me, but well... Already in the one minute we were installed, the man didn't say a word. His interest in my person made me lose a precious time of pleasure. Tired of waiting, I took matters into my own hands:

- What can I do for you?

After taking a deep breath, the man said.

- I'm an employee in an illegal brothel and I haven't been paid for three months.
At that moment, like everyone else, I looked at his physique and thought that he couldn't possibly be charging much for his services. My interrogation must've been painted on my face, because he added:

- I'm the leader's right-hand man.

- What do you expect from me? I'm not sure if the labor courts can award you compensation.

- The prosecutor contacted me to testify against Mr. X in exchange for a minimal penalty. I'd like to tell the boss without risking my life.

- I've only been a lawyer for three hours, I don't even have the necessary licenses yet.

- A friend, whose name I can't reveal, has assured me that you're the right man for the job.

- You must understand that if I begin my career by associating myself with banditry, it'll only bring me disadvantages. Only a comfortable fee could solve the problem.

- What's your fee?

Pragmatic by nature, I took the time to think, because during our conversation I'd studied the character at length: his timidity and lack of self-confidence were only feigned. Beneath the fold of his jacket was a gun drawn with too much precision for it not to be voluntary. Hoping he'd refuse to hire me, I announced a huge sum.

- Two million euros would easily make up for the inconvenience.

I thought I'd make his eyes pop out of their sockets, but his satisfied smile stunned me. Without saying a word, he pulled out his cell phone; three seconds later, mine vibrated: a notification from Société Générale. The guy had just made an instant transfer for the amount he wanted. I didn't think anything of it because I was overwhelmed by the message. Now that the transaction was complete, the man seemed more confident, even charming. He handed me his business card.

- I'll call him tomorrow to get more details.

He walked out the door without giving me any further explanation. I walked back up the stairs, worried about what was going to happen, looking forward to the future morning phone call from my banker nagging me about my late student loan payments. With one foot on a cloud and the other in the flames of hell, I forgot about the party.

"How did he get my IBR?" was the only question running through my mind.

When I left the Cancan, I walked down the Cannebiere to the Old Port. With my butt on the cold stone and my shoes hovering over the Mediterranean mud, I lost myself in the firmament, watching for the sunrise.