Neon

Chapter One: Reticular Formation

Chapter One - Reticular Formation


The neurons of the reticular formation all play a crucial role in maintaining behavioural arousal and consciousness

 

Part I – Danger

Contamination - making or being made impure by polluting or poisoning

 

The neon light glowed in the darkness, reflecting electric colours that reverberated off the sidewalk. The tall glass buildings he hugged gave no protection from the incessant rain that streaked in cords from an unseen sky. “Join us for a new dawn...” the smiling face, ten times larger than reality, announced from the red and blue electric billboard, so far up towards the invisible sky that it towered over the street.

“Watch It!” The loud voice jarred him back to earth. He bumped into the figure of a man dressed in a grey hat and overcoat, the collar turned up, his face obscured. The man walked quickly on, ignoring him, mumbling something that was lost in the noise.

He stopped, looked down from the giant billboard which was now saying, “life has never been this good...” and turned, watching the figure disappear. He was soaked through to the skin, the clothes he had on offered no protection from the torrential downpour.

The loud screaming hum of an electric vehicle zoomed past, a mist of water swirling and scattering behind it. His attention was drawn to watching the rear lights recede down the street. He jumped, startled at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. Turning rapidly to look behind him, he was staring directly into the face of a boy. Another dark figure, cloaked in a hoody, about his own height.

“You can’t be on the street during curfew.” The boy offered a half smile, as if he wasn’t sure what the reaction would be.

“Curfew?”

A quizzical expression crossed the stranger’s face, but was gone almost in the same instant. Perhaps he had decided something? His hand gripped Joel’s upper arm.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He pulled him back along the sidewalk, back in the direction he had started from.
Any resistance was momentary. Joel followed the boy.

Walking side by side they turned into a small alley between tall buildings. Suddenly Joel stopped. The boy turned, looking at him. They faced each other silently. The rain was dripping from his hair and from the hood covering the boy in front of him. Joel watched, distracted by a glistening rain drop on the tip of the other boy’s nose.

“I can’t stay here,” the boy broke the silence.

The whirring of another car passing along the main street added a sort of highlight to that assertion. Joel was torn, undecided, was it safe?

“Come on! “ There was an urgency in the boy’s voice, but Joel didn’t move.

The rain bounced off the buildings and pooled in a dark puddle around their feet. The darkness was deeper in the ally, only a faint red glow shed any light, and that was at the far end, almost obscured by the gloom.

“Where are we going?,” Joel had found his voice.

And now the boy pulled his arm, urging him forward along the alley. Once again he didn’t  resist, although his question just hung in the night, unanswered.

They stopped below the red glow of an electric sign hanging above the door at the far end of the alley. The dim light it provided washed out by the rain. It flickered, grew momentarily bright, then faded and came back alight. The neon inside buzzed and crackled in rhythm with the flickering glow, but looking up it was still clear enough to read the name – ‘BB Club.’’ The boy tapped a code, pushed the door open, and virtually shoved Joel inside. He closed the door behind them.

Joel perceived the closing door like another statement in a long series of events. The images crossed his mind one after the other of closing doors, their apartment, the car, the train, the centre.

The boy’s hand moved down Joel’s arm and found his hand. The warmth of the touch was as if a switch had been flicked – this was the first human contact since the door closed at the centre.

He led the way down a dimly lit corridor, only tiny LEDs at floor level marked the passage. They moved right, descending some stairs which turned, twice, ninety degrees. Now it seemed they were in some kind of basement below ground.

Across the far side of this underground space, the boy opened a door and they went inside.
As the door clicked shut behind them the neon tube came alive, buzzed that insane electric hum, like it was gasping for breath. Blinked one final time, as if saying with some satisfaction – I’m alive again – the white light shattered the darkness.

Joel looked around. There was no furniture apart from a large bed and a dark brown leather armchair, cracked and broken, the stuffing trying to escape in several places.

The boy stood in the middle of the room and started to undress. Joel stared, he didn’t know what to do. What was happening?

“Take your clothes off,” the boy looked up as he removed his jeans.

Joel didn’t react immediately, he looked at the boy, now almost completely naked, standing with hands on hips in his underpants. The boy waited.

“Like what you see?” The boy smirked, turned, opened a cupboard and then removed a towel.

Joel made no reply, just watched the boy.

He threw the towel, which hit him and dropped to the floor.

“For God’s sake, get out of your clothes and get dry!” The boy turned back to the cupboard, pulled out another towel and began drying himself.

Joel started to remove his clothes. He wasn't shy, or concerned, the boy was nice, but his head was fuzzy. It was hard to get coherent thoughts together. Joel was not sure if he had suffered something, maybe he’d been contaminated?

He did as told, removed all his soaking wet clothes, bent down and picked up the towel to dry himself. He looked at the boy standing there, picking clean clothes from the cupboard.

Something stirred inside him. His eyes rested glued to the figure in front of him and in particular to the fine rounded cheeks of the boy’s arse.

The boy knew that Joel was looking at him, he could sense the gaze of Joel’s eyes staring into him. He didn’t have to look, he felt it. He pulled on some clothes. He thought to himself – ‘this could work out.’

Once dressed in shorts and t-shirt, he turned around. Joel was standing naked next to a pile of wet clothes, holding the towel in front of him.

“We’re about the same size, come here and pick something.”

Joel walked over, standing closer, still clutching the towel. The boy turned and they accidently brushed shoulders. He smiled at Joel. It was definitely a smile, not a smirk, a genuine smile. Joel reached out to take a t-shirt from the cupboard, his towel dropped a little.

The boy moved away to sit on the bed, still watching Joel. Joel pulled the t-shirt on letting the towel fall to the floor.  It was his turn to feel that sensation of someone’s eyes staring.

Once the t-shirt was on he picked out some underpants and turned back towards the boy on the bed. “Can I take these?” He held them up.

“Yeah, everything’s clean.”

For some weird reason Joel was getting hard. He had no idea why. Joel could look at a person and admire beauty, and this boy was a fine example, but he had never been predisposed to any sort of attraction towards another boy. This was a first!

Joel realised that his head was clearing.  He got dressed, choosing a pair of jeans, then closing the cupboard and taking a seat in the armchair, which clanged metallically as he lowered himself into it.

“It’s a worn out bit of shit,” the boy told him.

Joel smiled back.

 

Part II – Trust Me, Love Me, Fuck Me

Once there were open fields and countryside.

 

It never really gets light, time passes in darkness, beneath shades of grey. And it is always wet, constantly raining. Joel knew it hadn’t always been like this. No, actually, he didn’t remember anything different, but then he didn’t remember anything.

He had this image of Charlie, but he was not sure who Charlie was. The picture in his head was of a young boy watching pod casts. Only it wasn’t exactly a picture. More like knowing it was a young boy there, looking at the screen. The name Charlie, he associated that name with the boy – he had no idea why?

The videos showed animals roaming across vast open countryside. All that was just plain weird, like reading about evolution and dinosaurs. You supposed it all existed millions of years ago. That’s what they told you. Really who cares? Where’s the connection with Now?
Joel kind of liked the rain, that is, if he was inside – not getting wet. Just looking at it was relaxing, comforting.

Charlie. Who the hell was Charlie? He couldn’t get the name out of his head. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!

“It’s all fake news, everything,” Grif told him, and he sort of believed what Grif said.

“Doesn’t matter, my memory doesn’t work back past yesterday.”

“Yeah, it does. It’s just kinda lost a bit.”

“Grif!”

“Yeah, What?”

“You’ve got a fucking answer for everything.”

“Guess!” Grif fell silent.

The heating didn’t work in here. Mostly that wasn’t any sort of problem, except now Joel felt cold. He was actually shivering.

Griffin could feel Joel trembling. He pulled the thick blanket up the bed and snuggled in close, trying to share his own body warmth.

“I would never have imagined this,” Joel broke the silence, turning his head to regard Grif, a faint smile on his face.

“I love when you smile.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get you warm,” Grif returned the smile.

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s this then?” Joel’s hand had come to rest on Grif’s cock.

There was no reply, silence. Only the buzzing of the neon tube insinuated itself into the calm.

Grif rolled over on top of Joel, who wrapped his arms around his back – they kissed. Grif’s hard cock was pressing into his belly.

“Charlie.”

“What? Who’s Charlie?”

Joel didn’t reply straightaway. Instead he reached down with both hands and gripped Grif’s buttocks. He loved the way they felt – he gave a little squeeze. Grif moved his hips – pushed his cock into Joel’s belly.

“I don’t know. I’ve got that name going round and round in my head. And pictures.”

“Pictures?” Grif was curious. “What pictures?”

Joel could feel the sticky pre-cum oozing from Grif’s cock. “Yeah pictures. Images.”

“I know what pictures are you idiot.” Grif’s lips found Joel’s, for the moment silencing any reply. He lifted his hips and pushed back down, sliding his wet cock against Joel’s now moist skin.

“I could fuck you,” Grif told him as he released his lips.

Joel smiled.

□□□□□

 

Joel wondered exactly what Grif was doing on the street after curfew? He never explained. Maybe he had forgotten to ask? Shit his head was still all mixed up and the drugs didn’t help. You had to wonder if it wasn’t some kind of plan. Keep the kids vague, keep them soft, and all sexed up!

Of course he knew straightaway what the club was. He had no idea how it worked, but it didn’t take long to find out.

He asked Grif “Why BB Club?” But the answer he got was enigmatic. “BB,” Grif told him, “stands for whatever you want. Bare Boys, Boy’s Boys, Banging Boys, Beautiful Boys.” He’d smiled sort of sarcastically when he’d said that last one. “I prefer Beautiful Boys.” Grif told him.

One of those statements you could take two ways. He either liked to think of himself as beautiful or he just liked beautiful boys. It was probably both? Griffin was good looking, cute, sexy, all those things.

Joel was not attracted to other boys, not sexually – at least he couldn’t remember being. Maybe he had? Whatever, here he was, in bed with Grif. And, he’d just let him fuck him. And... Yeah, hell, he’d enjoyed it!

He paid his way, but he didn’t enjoy it so much, performing for the customers. They were the elite, the well off. They were the ones in control.

The drugs were good. God they really were good. But they played with his head, so the fog never lifted. Like the darkness and the rain outside, Joel felt like he was seeing everything through a mist. The sex was real enough though. Mega real!

“You were quite a find,” Grif was laying on his back in bed staring at the ceiling.

“No kidding! I bet you could hardly wait?” Joel propped himself up on one elbow, looking across at Grif.

Hard, that’s the key word. Everything is fucking hard.” Grif folded his arms behind his head.

“I never asked you, did I?” Joel starred at him.

“Asked me what? If I... love you?”

“If?” Joel lapsed into vagueness. His eyes followed Grif’s to look up at the ceiling.

The neon light flickered, buzzed, faded and got bright again.

“No, I never asked you why you was out on the street after curfew. What the fuck you were doing when we met.”

“No you never asked.”

“Well?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You heard. Nothing! I needed some air.”

“It was pissing down. I was fucking soaked to the skin. And you needed air.”

“Listen. And lay off the swearing. We’re living in a basement with no windows, right?” Joel raised his eyebrows as if in some sort of acknowledgement to that statement of the obvious.

“Well,” Griffin ignored his reaction. “I just needed some fucking air!”

“Whose swearing now?” Joel lay back down.

He knew he wasn’t going to get the truth. That’s how Grif was. Nice guy, but avoided the truth. He was exactly like that when Joel first got here. He was like that when telling him about the clients, what he needed to do, what they liked.

Grif crawled back on top of him. Wiped Joel’s hair out of his eyes. He looked into those eyes. The fucking neon light buzzed again and hummed. Grif kissed him.

 

Part III – You Are Exactly Where You Need To Be

Sex is a drug.

 

It was always the same; he couldn't understand the rush to get here. Whenever you got an appointment somewhere official, you waited. You waited months to get a date in the first place; then you waited when you arrived on the actual day.

This was, he supposed, a little different. This time they had been called, at short notice. His mom was panicking. "Get your brother, get your brother!" She was almost shouting, and repeating everything twice.

"I heard you the first time."

His mother was desperately searching for something, some data key she needed.

A load of stress over nothing, Joel thought. Here he was, sitting next to Charlie, waiting.

Charlie was swinging his legs back and forth under the chair. His little brother could not sit still. 'Must take after mom,' he thought to himself – 'hyper.'

The woman opposite, dressed all in black, with black hair tied in a bun. She paid them no attention. Who knows how long she had been here. Waiting.

What was it all about? His mind drifted aimlessly from thought to thought. When he paused his thinking for a moment, he could hear the rain. A constant background sound that you would normally not notice. But when you're bored, you notice, and you get annoyed by things.

He moved his hand to rest on Charlie's thigh. "Stop it," he hissed at his brother. At the same time, he squeezed hard on his leg.

"Ow!" Charlie howled and glared at him. He stopped swinging his legs.

Before anything else could happen, his mother came into the room accompanied by a guy in a white coat. Looked like a doctor, but this wasn't a hospital.

They followed the doctor along corridors, upstairs, and finally into a small office.

Then there was more waiting. Until Charlie left with his mom and he was told to follow another guy in a white coat.

Tests, they said. We need to do some tests. Just relax. Next was a needle in the arm.

Everything went blank. Joel didn't know what happened after that. He had no memory. How the hell did he find himself back outside, alone?

Maybe for the first time ever he was panicking. He started walking, but didn't know where he was going. He was getting soaked; he wore only light clothes.

The darkness was like an intense fog. It wasn't just the blackness of the night. It was invading his head.

He knew he was walking.

It was raining. The sound of the rain seemed to compel his entire consciousness to focus on it. It was abnormally loud. Intense. Can the sound of rain be intense? His attention was distracted by the bright red and blue billboard.

He looked up. The rain fell invisibly from the blackness above. It streaked through the light of the sign and hit him in the face. He had to blink to see. Wipe his face. This was not normal. Why? Why did he have that thought?

His attention was gripped by the brilliant colours, glowing in the blackness. It read... "Join us for a new dawn... life has never been this good..."

"Watch It!" The loud voice jarred him back to earth.

The screaming hum of an electric vehicle zoomed past, a mist of water swirling and scattering behind it. He watched the rear lights recede down the street, then jumped, startled at the touch of a hand on his shoulder.

□□□□□

 

"You feel better now?" the boy asked him.

Joel nodded. "What's your name?"

"Griffin, or Grif if you like."

"Griffin, where are we?"

"This is my room in the club."

"The club? What club."

"The BB Club. You saw the sign."

"What is the BB Club?"

"We'll talk about it later. Let's eat first."

□□□□□

 

His arms were stretched out straight in front of him. He was leaning forward; his palms pressed flat against the glass. He stood with his legs slightly apart.

Naked, he could feel his skin tingling.

They'd giving him something.

He'd taken something.

He'd given them something.

They'd taken something.

He could feel the cool air around him, but he wasn't cold.

He was hot – excited – charged.

It had taken effect!

He knew someone was standing there, behind him, but he could not move. He was fixed in place, the feelings racing through his body. Spreading through his legs, along his arms.

The warm water jetted up the inside of his legs, underneath him.

Was it Kado? Was Kado the person there with him?

A mist quickly formed on the glass; frothy water droplets glided downwards in weaving lines that intersected and disappeared.

The water jet was playing on his balls – exquisite.

The sensation was intense – hyper real.

His cock was erect, pointing straight at the glass in front of him.

His balls swayed with the pulsating water.

Electric.

He moved his arms slightly, sliding his palms down the wet glass. His face was almost touching it.

He moved his legs a little further apart.

The jet moved upwards.

The spray of warm water played on his arsehole. He spread his legs, pushed his arse out.

His face pressed into the glass – contorted.

His forearms rested against the panel.

The person aiming the jet was playing with him.

Intense, the feelings were intense.

He wanted IT.

He needed IT.

He could never have imagined this – never!

"Where am I?" He wasn't certain if he actually spoke the words.

"You are exactly where you need to be!" It was Kado; he recognised the voice.