Kissing Constellations

Chapter 02- He's a Hooker

Kissing Constellations

🌃 Chapter Two 🌃

He's a Hooker

Everyday after that, Greg sat out on the back step, watching, waiting, hoping that the freckled child would visit him again. But days passed, and then, weeks, and the boy never came. So Greg stopped trying. Instead, he'd work extra hours, different shifts, refusing to go out the dreaded back door. He tried his hardest not to think about the boy. About how said child may be outside right now, freezing in the dark. Or maybe he's been hurt badly and no one knows. Or- Greg shook his head. I have to get over this kid. He's a stranger; a bum. Who cares... Not me, that's for sure.

But then, late one night, a series of metallic thuds echoed from outside. Greg rushed out into the alleyway, assuming that some local thugs were out there, spraying graffiti of poorly drawn penises on the building again. Instead, his eyes caught sight of the dumpster's lid slamming shut.

"You..."

A small boy was digging through the trash, his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his thin shirt. The boy looked up at the sound of Greg's voice, taking a timid step back.

"I... I thought you were gone already."

Greg scratched his neck nervously, unsure of what to say, "What were you doing?"

The boy shuffled, "Nothing." His hands were covered in grime, and as he shifted something clinked within his pant's pockets: loose change. At this point, Greg had noticed the child was wearing a pair of gray sneakers. This was unlike their last visit, when the strange boy was barefooted.

"Where did you get those?"

The boy looked down, "These shoes?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Uh..."

Greg sighed, plopping himself onto the backdoor's step and patting the spot next to him. The freckled child froze for a moment, looking around himself cautiously, worried that someone was watching them. Then, once sure they were alone, he stepped forward, joining the man on the concrete step. They sat together, shoulder to shoulder, in a comfortable silence.

"Well?" Greg wondered after a moment.

"One of my givers gave them to me."

"Giver?" Greg chuckled at the strange word, "What's that?"

The boy shrugged shyly, "That's what Kiro calls the people who visit me. They're kinda like... um. Well, I don't really know. It's weird."

"Kiro?"

"Yeah, he takes care of me."

Greg readjusted his placement on the step awkwardly, "Oh, why do they visit you?"

"Hm." The teen looked away, "Nothing, never mind."

Greg decided not to question the other male any longer. He already knew what was going on, it was obvious. This boy was being used by strangers to fulfill their own pleasure. And in return... they'd buy things for the child. Like a prostitute.

"How old are you anyway?"

The boy picked at the tips of his shoes, "nineteen."

Shit. Greg thought. What this kid is doing is definitely illegal. But... I wonder if he even realizes that what he's doing is wrong? And who's this Kiro guy anyway? He seems to be doing a pretty shitty job of raising him.

"What's your name then?" Greg asked.

"Toby. Yours?"

"Greg."