Listen, Obey

1. First Lesson

My fingers tapped a strange rhythm against my leg while my eyes flitted around and across the room. It was something very unsettling about its atmosphere, but also exhilarating. I knew why I was here—waiting—and I would have to calm down before I entered though the dark red door a few meters away.

This was worse than a job interview. Way worse.

I thought about Lisa, sitting in a café across the street. She didn’t want to come in here with me, and I had to respect that decision even if I would have wanted her to join me. Calm me down. She was an angel, even if I had hated her at times during my treatment.

I studied a set of photographs on the far wall, chewing my bottom lip as I followed the shapes and forms of men and women in various positions and attire. I couldn’t see their faces, but that didn’t matter. The photos were still vibrant, addictive even.

I wanted that. I wanted to be one of them.

It wasn’t about the pain: it was about control, discipline, structure. It was about my survival. I knew I couldn’t do this on my own anymore. I needed someone to keep me in check.

My fingers traveled up my arm, studying the old markings and caressed them before pulling down my sleeves so that the man on the other side of that door wouldn’t see them.

By reflex, I pushed a hand through my hair to check how greasy it was, before recalling that I took a shower before coming here. I was clean; in more ways than one.

Footsteps sounded on the other side, and my heart started to beat like a hammer, thrumming relentlessly inside my chest. This was it. Once the man on the other side turned the handle, the ball would start rolling.

With a click, the door opened and revealed a guy—probably in his mid-thirties—wearing a suit that looked completely out of character to this place, but that seemed to fit him like a glove. My eyes traveled to his, but I couldn’t hold the connection. His steel blue eyes burned with such intensity that I had to look away.

“You’re on time, good.” His voice reminded me of black velvet: dark and almost too smooth. Before I had time to answer, he turned on his heels and went into his office; leaving the door open as an invitation.

I pushed myself up from the leather sofa and made my way to the door, dragging my feet behind me. I wanted this, but things weren’t always that simple.

Lingering by the door was obviously a bad idea, because the man waved me in with an impatient gesture. Great, he’s already pissed.

“Ethan, was it?” He opened a file, skimming through the pages with a speed that made me question if he read anything at all.

He cleared his throat and looked up. Oh, crap.

“Yeah, I’m Ethan.”

“Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. It fitted the rest of the interior, sleek and black.

“Thanks.” I knew I had to be polite, and I’d practiced this with Lisa more than enough times for me to know that ‘thanks’ was the safest word to say out of all possible words I could pick from. Or perhaps it was ‘thank you’.

“Why are you here?” Straight to the point. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else. It still managed to throw me off. He didn’t even introduce himself.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Don’t be snarky.” I winced at his reply. We were definitely off to a bad start. I didn’t do good starts, but this had to take the price.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re a brat.”

That’s when I did my worst mistake. I sent him a glare.

“I don’t think this is for you, Ethan,” he said, closing the folder and dismissed me with a lazy wave towards the door.

I clutched the armrests, trying to stop the shakes that traveled through my body. I couldn’t leave yet. I couldn’t give up. Not like this.

“Please, sir. I need this.” The pleading tone tasted tangy on my tongue. I didn’t like it.

I heard him release an exasperated sigh. Cringing in the chair, I silently begged for him to reconsider. This seemed to be my last resort. The other clubs had taken one look at my medical records and sent me on my way. At least here, they agreed to meet with me.

Sure, perhaps I had removed one or two papers from there…but I was desperate.

“Your papers don’t add up.”

I grew cold. How could he tell?

“And I’m excellent at picking up lies.” I didn’t dare meet his eyes, even if I knew I should have. “You’re lying through your teeth. Why should I let you join?”

“Because I need this! More than anything-” I blurted out. He wouldn’t understand how much that meant or what weight those words carried. No one knew, except those who were like me.

“Sit still.”

My body stopped. I didn’t even breathe.

“Look at me.”

Inch by inch, I moved my eyes from the papers on the desk, past his folded hands, his chest and neck, not stopping until I met his intensive stare.

“This isn’t a game.”

I nodded.

“This isn’t the place for you.”

Yes it is, I wanted to scream it out, but I didn’t dare. I had to be smarter.

“But I’m going to give you a chance.”

It was as if my body collapsed in the seat. My shoulders sagged and I dropped my head, relieved that I didn’t have to look into his eyes any longer. This had to work. Otherwise I knew I didn't have a chance. I wasn't strong enough to make it through on my own. 

I could hear him tap his fingers together and it made me look up. A soft shiver sprang up my spine. There was something about this man that was highly unnerving, but it wasn't so strange. He owned this club, and it wasn't just any club. 

His lips formed a small, almost imperceptible grin, and I could only stare. 

“First lesson," he paused, making sure he had my attention. He had it. Undivided.

"Listen and obey.”