The Master // Jake Kiszka

The Master

It is said that each of us live three separate lives simultaneously. The first is our public life which we live out in the open. In our politeness when we greet new people. In how we conduct ourselves at formal, and informal, events. Beneath that is our private life. Shared with only those closest to us. Where we can reveal a little more of ourselves to those trusted few.

And then there is our secret life. In which we show ourselves to no one. Where our darkest desires co-exist alongside our fears and insecurities. Our secret lives are the thoughts that plague us, convinced we are the only ones to have considered such depravity. Telling ourselves that we are wicked.

You were languishing in those wicked thoughts as you sat in your car. With the A/C cranked up and the windows closed.

Recently unburdoned of your previous relationship. Feeling like you'd hit the pause button on life and everything was moving exceptionally fast to catch up. He'd never made you cum, anyway. Your tears were wasted on a man who spent an inordinate amount of time swirling his thumbs around a playstation controller in lieu of your desperate cunt.

You pulled the key out of the ignition. Wiping your cheeks with a napkin from the burger place you'd passed earlier. Trying to reconcile your shy, passive demeanour with the needs which had never been met. Putting on your public face, ready to smile when all you wanted to do was stare into the void.

It would be when you had nothing left to give that he would walk into your life. With a smile that invited you to fall in love with him upon sight. With a sweetness rarely found in a person who merely intended to pass you by. He was charming before he even opened his mouth to speak.

A pair of shades slid down his nose as he lowered his head to appraise you. Immediately sending the danger receptors in your body into overdrive, your pupils visibly dilating. But there was nothing nefarious about his voice. You were bitterly confused.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He said, smooth and calm as if he had never been nervous in his entire life.

You took hold of the hand he extended forth. Terrified that he would be disgusted by your clammy skin. Instead, he held your hand within his a little longer than was necessary. Leaving you wondering if he had meant to, or if it had simply been an accidental touch.

"Lovely to meet you too." You replied softly, feeling the curve of your mouth tremble under his scrutiny.

Because he was scrutinising you. You could feel his eyes from behind those shades taking mental pictures of the way your skin had that glow of summer heat. Perspiring just a little at the cleavage.

The way he spoke was in direct conflict to the intimidation you felt being watched by him. His warm greeting was assuring, making you feel dizzy as you stood under florescent lights.

"What part of Nash did you come from today?" He asked politely, dulcet tones distracting you from the way he kept his hands in his pockets after shaking yours.

"Uh....Germantown." You offered, peering around the room at all the framed discs and memorabilia on the walls.

"Nice." He said, nodding. "A beautiful part of town."

You were inclined to agree. To continue in this strange dance of outward propriety. Until you felt the door behind you open, a rush of warm air hit the back of your legs and you were propelled into another polite exchange.

A stressed and breathless woman dressed head to toe in black scurried into the building. Carrying a totebag filled with paperwork and a starbucks. A set of keys dangling off a lanyard at her neck.

"Oh, you're early." She announced, pleasantly surprised as she dumped her bag on the back of the yellow couch that sat directly in the centre of the room. "Excellent. I'll grab your forms and you can get right to it. I see you already met Jake, our lead guitarist."