Freak Show | Multiship [C]

Chapter 29 | Numb to the Bone

After the end of another show, Devin sat in her dressing room stripping off her stage clothes. Chris walked in and watched her intently as she got dressed in a more casual skirt and blouse to head home.

"Who was that guy talking to you after the show?" He asked her, attempting to not sound as harsh about it as it came off.

"I wish I could say it was nobody, but he wasn't." Devin replied, "He was interested in hiring me for a job... Different from singing. Well, I'd still be using my throat." She joked.

"What? Did he proposition you?" Chris already was thinking about how he was going to skin this guy.

She sighed, "Yes and no. He hosts parties in which they tend to have... very pornographic entertainment. He offered me real good money just to masturbate in front of twenty people."

"You know the answer is no. Flat out." He spoke as if he was baffled she was even considering it.

"Chris," Devin set her hands on his chest, looking up at him, "You told me back when we first were together that your only rule is I'm not aloud to fuck anyone else. Otherwise, I could do whatever makes me happy. Well, technically, I wouldn't be fucking anyone else. And babe, money does make me happy."

"How much?"

"Six hundred a night." She pulled down on his suit jacket, "Chris, six hundred a fucking night. Do you know what we could do with that kind of money?"

He snickered briefly, "Afford a real house and get out of the trailer park."

"Yeah," Devin smiled as if it was too good to be true, "A real house. Please, Chris, put aside your pride and possession this one time. We aren't going to get a chance like this again."

He sighed and nodded, "Fine."

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The smell of smoke and sound of chips filled the air. Mob looking men lined gambling tables. Bright colors and festive music filled the casino. There was no mistaking this place; Vegas. And on a very obscure tip, it's where Ashley, Nikki, and Ryan had ended up. A waitress, looking much like a flamingo in her costume, offered them up some drinks.

"Care for a cocktail?" She asked bubbly.

"No thanks." Ryan replied, "But maybe you can help us. We're looking for a man named Michael Kuza. We've heard he's a black jack dealer here."

"Oh, yes. He is. He should either be at table six, or he'll be in his room or at the bar."

"Thank you." He muttered and began to move past her.

After searching for the table numbers, they finally found the one marked with a six on the side. Go figure, six. Beyond seats of gamblers, laid a Cheshire smile too iconic to miss. Kuza smiled like the Devil as he collected the players cards again. He told them to buzz off to a different table because he wanted to turn in for the night.

As the people cleared, he caught eye of unnaturally red hair. His mind raced to thoughts of Ashley before he even realized it was her. Then he continued to look down the line of faces, growing genuinely happy to see people he actually cared about.

"Holy fuck." He said as rushed around the table. Kuza instantly hugged Ashley tightly, "What are you guys doing here?"

"Getting the band back together." Nikki flashed a smile.

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"But-"

"Sweetie, I wish there was something I could do." Manson interrupted him. "I know you and Angelo were close and he meant a lot to you, but he's not the same person anymore."

"Yes he is." He muttered, "Without the drugs."

He sighed as he rested his head on top of Twiggy's, "Even without the drugs, he's just a shell of a man. You and him dealt with the kidnapping differently. You became even more sensitive and reserved, and he just became numb. You can't fix numbness."

"I wish you could." He whispered as he snuggled closer against Manson's chest.

"You're cold?" He asked.

Twiggy made of a mix of an "mhm" and a squeak in return. Manson held him tighter and pulled a blanket over them. Like a lot of the freaks, they still lived in their trailer from the days of the show. It was getting old, with a generator that didn't work well. This life was getting to be too much for even them.

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"Oh, fuck." Angelo uttered from under a burly man.  

He was mostly too drugged out to even enjoy most of the fucking, but every once and awhile his numb body would feel something. His body was thrown over the counter of some dealer's apartment. With barely any money to pay his rent for his slot at the trailer park, this was his only way to pay for his addiction.

The obviously gang affiliated man grabbed him by the back of his hair. That was new... at least from this man, but it was familiar to Angelo. Through his haze, he pictured Chris for the first time in a long while. He'd tried so hard to block Chris out of his mind. It was just more heartache. He thought about the way Chris would use him, abuse him. The way his cock felt inside of him. It was better than any of these drugs.

"Ahh," His voice cracked as he actually expierenced an orgasm for the first time with this partner.

Or, many partners. Sex was a vice just as much as the lust, but he spent most his time pleasing others. The drugs killed his performance abilities and he usually couldn't cum. But the thought of Chris... It could make him weak at the knees, even if he didn't want to admit it.