I frequent The Cat’s Meow at least four nights a week. I know it sounds like a campy place, but it’s actually pretty cool inside. The place has got an Egyptian theme to it, statues of sphinxes all over the place.

Anyway, every time I go to the club I see him, this young boy, sitting across the street. He can’t be older than seventeen. I watch as he sits on the top step of a condemned building. It used to be a really expensive hotel back in the sixties, but now it’s just a crumbling mess. Half the windows are broken, the other half is boarded up and the steps are cracking. And yet, that’s where he always is, huddled in the corner, his arms wrapped around his legs. His head rests against his knees and his chin length black and blue hair falls across his eyes.

He wears the same clothes all the time. I’ve never seen him change. It’s always black jeans ripped at the knees, a black Cure t-shirt, and black converse sneakers.

Some nights he sits there for hours. Other times he’s gone within minutes. Either way he always returns. Waiting for his next john.

I’ve been watching him ever since he appeared three and a half months ago. Not like a stalker, mind you, just someone concerned. I don’t like the thought of such a young boy being a trick. There are a lot of freaks out there just looking to get a hold of such a cute thing like him.

Then one night it finally happened. I was walking out of the Cat’s Meow when I heard a slightly smoke roughened voice yell, “Let me go! I said I’m not going with you!”

I looked up to see the boy and a middle aged man across the street. The guy was obviously drunk. He was staggering even as he tried to exert his strength over the boy. The man gripped the boys’ arm with one hand and back handed him in the face twice with his other.

“Shut your mouth, slut.” The man slurred, starting to drag the boy down the street. The teen must have given up, for he started stumbling along quietly.

I didn’t think, I just reacted. I quickly pulled out the pocket knife I always carried and charged at the prick. I ran into him dead on, throwing his body into the concrete wall behind him and put my blade against his Adams apple.

“He’s not going with you, so just fuck off.” I growled between clenched teeth.

I must have really taken him by surprise because he complied without saying a word and instantly ran off.

I turned to see the kid staring at me with eyes as big as saucers.

“You alright?” I asked.

“I’m fine! I had the situation under control.” He snapped, suddenly looking pissed.

“Oh yeah and I’m so sure the bloody lip and soon to be black eye were just for special effects.” I retorted.

“Just leave me the fuck alone.” He mumbled, walking away.

I sighed and followed after him. “Wait! I was just trying to help. Look, do you want to go somewhere and get a bite to eat? When’s the last time you had any food?”

“None of your fucking business! I don’t need your help and I sure as hell don’t need your charity!” He snapped.

“It’s not charity, it’s… It’s two friends going to dinner! I get the check this time, you get it next time.” I spoke hastily.

The teen stopped and looked at me skeptically, then asked, “What if we don’t ever see each other again?”

“Then I guess you’ll never be able to pick up the check.” I answered.

He stared at me for a minute before looking down at the ground. “So where are we going?”

I smiled, “How about Rita’s Diner?”

“Whatever.” He spoke, walking in the direction of the restaurant.