South Africa
Part 14

I next wrote Gary on Tuesday, and spent a lotta time telling him about what happened on Monday night when I delivered the cash to the dealers. But when I reread everything I'd written, I deleted it. It was horrendous stuff from the shadowy and violent world of drugs, and I didn't know how to tell the story without worrying the fuck outa Gary, or disappointing him. What kinda hero was I? Yeah, right.

I managed to summon the courage to write again the next day, but included the fact that I'd deleted everything I'd written on Tuesday.

Tuesday
deleted

Wednesday
Hey Gary. I'm alive. I thought I'd write you and let you know that, at least. I ended up having to take some stuff that I got from a friend cos I was still totally fucked last night, and had school today. Not able to focus thoughts very well, but at least I look kinda straight.

I need to contact Winger cos he walked in on me yesterday in my room, and I was lying on a bed of puke and crap. You know why I can't tell him the whole story about what's going on.

There was a fuckup on Monday night with the money. They want another 500, which they call a "chicken shit" fee. Meantime, a friend of mine, Bruce, said he'd give me the money for nothing to get me outa the crap I'm in.

The dealer guys worked me over pretty good. They're fucking clever, those guys. They left my face alone so that I don't have to answer a lotta questions at home or at school. I'm expecting to come down hard cos my friend says he thinks they've spun me with a dose of H. There's a fresh track on my arm. That would explain the paranoia and the puking and the shitting. I'm scared because I've not taken heroin before. I've seen guys who looked like they were dying before they got better. Apart from this fuckup, I've only ever used acid or coke.

Luckily, I was driven close to the dropoff rendezvous by a friend Bruce, so he knew more or less where I was. Later, he found me trashed at the back of some alley and drove me home, then helped me to my room. I need to ask him how he knew where the fuck I was, and what those guys used [to inject me]. But I think I know the answer to that already cos Bruce knew what was coming down. I guess I should just back away and pay them, then move on - if they'll let me.

I just can't go to Mr T and tell him, Gary [like you suggested]. I didn't have the same vibe with Cody's folks as Mark or Paul or even Wingnut. I've only got myself to blame cos I was high so much of the time, and I get paranoia trips. Wouldn't surprise me if they actually asked Code to stay away from me. Maybe I don't fucking know anymore.

I'm phoning Wingnut later to see if he will meet me at the beach. Fuck knows what he must've thought when he saw me lying in all that puke and shit. When I woke up, I didn't even know I was home, and my bed looked like a fucking shithole. The housekeeper helped me to the shower, and to get clean, then she got someone to clean up the mess.

The stuff my bud gave me has helped me to lie my way through the day. I owe him big time. School was a fucking haze. Oh yeah... about what I deleted on Tuesday. Well, you know me already, and I shouldn't write stuff when I'm fucked. Maybe that's why Paul won't write to me. A couple of times I really lost my rag with him, and actually ended up in a fight when he was down here in Cape Town for Cody's 18th birthday. Stupid shit cos he was calling me a cokehead and whatever, and hahahaha I actually smacked him. Well, no need to tell you the result of that because if you think Mark had a short fuse, Paul's was even shorter, and he fucked me up good and solid. So I deleted what I wrote to you on Tuesday cos I've caused so much fucking pain already without making things worse.

You know when I first met Cody I didn't want to admit that I was into guys. I was fucking scared, and I even blamed Cody for turning me around. Then I ended up crying like a baby in his room one afternoon when I told him I thought I was gay. It was just so fucking stupid. He told me you reckoned that was why I was fucking every bitch under the sun... to prove that I wasn't [gay] hahahaha. I fucking hated you back then, and the influence you had over Cody. But he shared the stuff he learnt from you without telling other people where he'd learnt it from.

I'm going to have to get a move on if I want to get Wingnut before his curfew, if he has one.

Cheers
Your friend and Codys
Steve

Friday

Hi Gary. I think I just need to get through the weekend without taking anything. Just taking it a day at a time. I've had threats from one of my buds at school who's been told to put pressure on me about getting back to selling. I was their best fucking salesman so they're gonna miss me. I could've sold a fortune's worth in the last three days at school and around [the area]. I was pressured today because everyone wants their stuff for the weekend. Anyway, my bud Bruce has taken up the slack by selling both his and my stuff. That's not bad income for a fucking 17 year old.

We've always been good buds up to now, and I hope that's not gonna stop. He's a good fuck, and he's a looker. :) He's also a needed friend at the moment. He's into sex games like bondage, and has taught me quite a bit. We've been selling together for about four years now. The difference with him is that he doesn't use the shit except for smoking weed.

Hey, Gary, I know you're gonna write back and tell me that I shouldn't be hanging with Bruce; that he's a dealer in misery or whatever, and that he's an asshole. You need to understand Bruce's setup. He was 11 when he started selling grass to his friends, then got involved in a sexual relationship with a black guy in his early thirties, who was involved with a syndicate. By 12, Bruce had been and was still being raped by this guy, and he was selling really hard shit even to adults. Can you imagine that? Adults buying their shit from a 12 year old kid who didn't even have pubes yet? He's not openly gay either, so don't think he walks around in a pink dress or anything. If anything he's a tough fucker.

When he was 14, he went on a rush with a group of black guys, and they ended up in an orgy with a lot of S&M. Bruce got badly damaged. They were totally into fucking over this white lightie with his tight white ass, and they hurt him bad. Then he decided he couldn't sell the shit if that's what it did to people.

He was stabbed three times one night after making his decision to quit selling. But he survived. I don't think he was supposed to make it through the stabbing, but he was still determined to stop selling.

Then a friend of his was beaten up so badly that he ended up in hospital. Now Bruce is terrified to stop selling because his friends and family are in danger. He's obviously stopped seeing those guys [who raped him], and now just sells the shit and keeps a low profile. Now you know why he doesn't use the stuff either. He says that even though it was a fuckup, he got into S&M and enjoys it.

And me? I got hooked by experimenting with drugs and enjoying the trip... so much so, I ignored the downers. The big sales are mainly for E but crack is right up there as well. It's mainly only the lighties who buy weed.

Things could be going a fucking lot better. I phoned Wingnut on Wednesday evening, and thank fuck he was the one who answered the phone. I told him I wanted to see him, and he gave me some uphill about being a fucked up acid head, so I told him if he didn't get down to the beach, I was going to arrange to have his cock and balls cut off and bronzed hahahahah.

"That's only cos you're jealous."

He's almost right. I smile now when I read the chapters of him and Cody comparing sizes because Wingnut has got a slack 5 and a hard 7. I reckon he's going to get bigger though, because his hands are already bigger than mine, and so are his feet. He's about as tall as Cody was, and my fuck he's good looking now. He had to have his hair cut for school because he just let it grow during the holidays, and it had like a Tom Cruise wild style. I've decided to cut my hair as well. I figure a change of image might do me some good.

Wingnut was cocky when he arrived at the beach. "Yeah, so?" was his opening line.

"So I hear you walked in on me when I was a bit fucked."

"A bit? You looked like someone who'd fucking died, and rotted lying there in your own fucking mess. I'm not sure I wanna hang with you anway. I'm battling to stop [using drugs], and it won't help to be with you. I think Cody would probably suss it that way, too."

"Fuck Cody! You're not giving me a chance to explain anything!"

"Hey, you don't need to explain to me cos I'm just a little lightie anyway. So why all the hassle to speak to me? And go fuck yourself... leave Cody out of this."

"I didn't mean it like that, Wingnut. And I don't think of you as a lightie anyway. You know that. You look like 16 and I can talk to you like a friend. At least, I used to be able to. I'm also trying to stop using. You don't understand what's going on with me right now."

"Hahahahaha! Yeah, fucking right! Everytime I see you, Steve, you're fucked. Even the night I came around to your place and slept over, you had the fucking shakes. And look at you now! It's like you're fucking diseased, man."

"You've been there, so I guess you know everything, huh?"

I didn't wanna make him totally mad at me because even just standing there with his thick fleecy top and jeans, he looked fantastic. I couldn't help noticing the way his chest filled his top, then dropped away to a flat stomach... and the way his tool pushed a neat bulge in his jeans. To top it all off, he was drop-dead good looking as well. I know that may sound crazy, Gary, but I wanted to sleep with him, and I don't think it's just for the sex, although that's what I wanted. I'd like us to be best friends. The only problem I've got with Winger is that he's a helluva lot like Mark with his temper. I think this really started after Cody died. He just doesn't give a fuck whether he has friends or not, and people can take him or leave him. And I know you think it's cool, Gary, but I think Wingnut spends way too much fucking time in Cody's room alone. Anyway, back to the convo between Wingnut and me.

"I've been nowhere compared to you," he snapped. "So I know shit. So why did you wanna see me? Want to ogle me, then go and jack off tonight thinking about us fucking each other or something? I know what you want cos you made it fucking plain." Then Wingnut lifted his top to show me his tanned sixpack and chest. "Here, check this out, and then go fuck yourself. There! Wanna run your hands over that, huh? Want to touch me all over?"

"Are you fucking crazy? There are people staring at us!"

"Then they can go jack as well," he bluffed before pulling his top down. In his rage, he hadn't noticed the people observing us, and he began to turn crimson with embarrassment.

"Stop being a fucking prick, Wingnut. I want you to be my friend."

"You want me to be your fuck. So go ahead and say it!"

"You make it sound fucking crude."

"You're a fucking joke, Steve, so why did you call me down here?"

"Why did you bother to come?"

His eyes began to sparkle as they welled with tears. "Because I can't believe that someone who used to be Cody's and my friend, and so cool and good looking, now looks like a bergie." [A bergie is a homeless person, normally drunk, who begs around for food, and usually looks dirty as hell].

Damn, that hurt like a knife in the gut. "Do I look that bad?"

"I used to think you were like my surf hero, and would sometimes even jack off with you in my head. Now I think you're fucking gross."

"Do you have to be so fucking honest?"

"If you can't handle it, then too bad."

"Reckon we might be friends?"

"I'll tell you what. I'll come over and sleep with you on Friday night, and you can give me a blowjob cos I haven't had one in months. And then I'll think about being friends. Don't expect me to blow you, though, cos you're fucking dirty."

"I'm gonna give you a fucking clout across the ear if you don't calm down."

"Hey, I'm calm. It's you who's stressing."

Fucking hell, Gary, I was shaking, and was ready to smack his head right off his fucking shoulders. I felt him slipping away from me, and I was desperate. Anyway, he wasn't that fucking calm because he was like bouncing up and down on his toes, and moving his arms the whole time like he was impatient to get away from me.

"What about all the cool stuff you said the other night?" I continued. "About being worried about me and needing me?"

"I needed to talk to someone."

"I'm chuffed that you chose me."

"I was desperate."

"You hugged me in bed."

"I've gotta get home. Told my mom I wouldn't be long."

"So what now, Wingnut? Is that supposed to be like it's over between us? I don't think I'm going to handle that. I love you too much, bro."

The grommet's eyes were still bright with tears, and I was hoping that he'd soften his attitude. But no. "Just now you said 'fuck Cody'. What do you reckon he'd say about you right now, huh? And that night you touched me all over when I was spaced and I couldn't do anything. I'm not even sure what you did to me then, and you'll never tell me. You're like a fucking molester and an acid head. I'm not sure why I came here. I thought maybe it would be OK, but you're here all drugged up. Anyway, I've gotta go. See ya."

He split, and ran out of there before I could say anything more. I wanted to shout that I wasn't fucking drugged up. I should have known better than to meet him while I was still having withdrawals. No, I wasn't drugged up when I met him if that's maybe what you're thinking, Gary. I haven't taken anything voluntarily for fucking weeks now.

When I look in the mirror, my eyes are fucking staring a million miles away. My gut has gone soft as well. Still got my sixpack, but it's not hard like it used to be. I don't blame Wingnut for thinking what he did. My skin is pale and my eyes look like they're buried deep down in the sockets. I feel fucking down because I want Wingnut so fucking badly, and the thought that he might go and hang with his friends rather than me tears me to fucking pieces.

Do you have any fucking idea how hard this is? I've been getting the most fucking incredible stomach cramps, and I can't sleep at all. Yeah, so I got myself into all this shit, but why does it have to be so fucking incredibly hard?

When Wingnut was speaking to me, I could almost hear you agreeing with him. The only thing that stopped me from beating the shit out of him was that I want him to be my bud, and hopefully my lover. I'm not totally fucking useless cos I was working on some of Cody's pages during the night. Might as well keep busy cos I can't sleep. Did a cool graphic. Well, two different ones of the same thing. One for you, and one for Cody's site. You'll see why when I send them to you.

Wingnut can see that I've had fuck all sleep for fuck sake. How am I supposed to look? The little fucker also knows exactly what I'm after, so he fucks my brain over, and tries to tease the shit out of me. Hey, Bruce will be my lover tomorrow if I let him. He's so fucking in love with me anyway, and I could do fucking worse. He loves me even if I'm fucked, Gary. Even if I'm fucked. Could you love me when I'm like this?

But I want Wingnut. I've also done like you said, and tried. I've gotta get through this fucking weekend, so I might take Bruce up on his offer to spend the weekend with him to try and stay fucking clean. At least I'll keep myself busy. I'm shitting myself if I have to lay my hands on any of that shit right now. I'm just gonna rave off to you by writing this email until I get myself sorted out. What the fuck even if you don't read this? It's good just to write it down. And it keeps me busy during the sleepless nights.

Yesterday afternoon, I took a walk to the beach and Wingnut was there with a few of his buddies. I waved at them, but he just ignored me. Then, last night, I got this call from some fucking lightie or another. When I answered the phone, he just screamed ACID HEAD so fucking loud. I could hear a few of them laughing in the background. I was sure it was Wingnut's doing, and that he's now planning to make my life fucking miserable, and play games.

It's cool if he wants to ignore me, Gary. But if he starts to play games with me, I'll beat his fucking head in. He's forgotten how Cody helped him when he was so fucked. Cody thought he was gonna die.

One of Wingnut's friends, Sean, also phoned me to buy some stuff, so maybe Wingnut isn't as clean as he wants me to fucking believe. Although it could have been a ploy to see if I was still selling.

School is a nightmare so far cos I can't fucking concentrate on anything at the moment. I know if Cody was alive, he would have at least stood by my right now... although he never saw me as fucked as I've been these last couple of weeks. BUT THAT'S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT! Right now I need to sleep, then try to make a plan for maybe going somewhere tonight.

Cheers
Your friend and Cody's
Steve

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 Steve Part 15