(In)Decent Proposal.

By Eridan Vlasnof

Eric Trachtenberg is a broke (straight) college guy with a mountain of debt, a low-income job and a three-month late rent - and, worse, no idea how he's gonna fix all that. When all hope seems lost, an old figure from his past comes back in town, with a rather... indecent proposal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: F. Oliveira
• Release date: Aug 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9780463152324

Book preview

indecent proposal

BY ERIDAN VLASNOF.

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

INDEX

01. Strawberry-Blonde Is The Warmest Color.

02. Mr. Stark Will See You Now.

03. Test-Drive.

04. Is That An Eggplant In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

05. Cowboys And Bandits, Sans The Bandits.

06. The Cake Is A Lie.

07. Don’t Do It Like They Do It In The First Lyrics Of OHSHC.

08. Secrets And Whites, Handcuffs And Alibis.

09. Sunday Morning Blues.

10. Toy-ing The Lines.

11. Feeling The Buzz.

12. He’s So Lucky, He’s A Star…

13. Happens To The Best Of Us.

14. How Did It End Up Like This? It Was Only A Kiss, It Was Only A Kiss.

15. The Green-Eyed Monster Which Doth Mock.

16. It’s Not Gay If It’s In A Threeway.

17. Breakfast At Tiffany’s, Kind Of.

18. Look At This Photograph, Every Time I do It Makes Me Laugh.

19. Nintendo Isn’t The Only One That Switches.

20. The Lo(v/n)eliest Time Of The Year.

21. Timing Is Everything.

22. Two Truths And One Lie.

23. It’s Called Bella Swan-ing, Look It Up.

24. Moving Onwards.

25. Two Steps Back, One Leap Of Faith Forward.

26. Epilogue.

chapter one.

STRAWBERRY-BLONDE IS THE WARMEST COLOR.

His fist slammed against the door three times. Behind the couch, the muffled noises told me Eddie was fighting a fit of giggles.

Come on, you guys, I know you are in there, Mr. Hayward shouted, knocking on the door three more times. His hand was so heavy it almost broke the thing off its hinges – which wouldn’t have been that good for us, particularly. I saw you running upstairs twenty seconds ago!

I wouldn’t call it twenty seconds – we did spring four flights of stairs the moment we spotted his bald head coming out of the storage closet, but it took almost an entire minute to get from the entrance hall to our apartment.

Not that it was relevant to the conversation, anyway.

You know I’ll just keep coming back, right? he said, slightly calmer but still terrifyingly loud. It’s been three months. You two can’t avoid me forever.

We can try, I heard Eddie whisper. Me, crunched behind the armchair? I just tried to remain as quiet as I could, hoping that Mr. Hayward wouldn’t remember he had a master-key that could unlock that door in no time.

You are probably wondering what exactly is going on here, why we were hiding behind the furniture despite our door being securely locked, and all that, right? Worry not, I’ll make everything clear.

First things first, I’m the realest. Well, technically, I’m Eric Trachtenberg; but I’m also the realest – nice to meet you anyway. Currently, I’m a college student at Greenwood Valley University, which is as good college as any, if you feel like wasting four-to-six years of your life in another classroom. I haven’t decided what my major will be just yet, but given my general apathy towards the human condition, laziness and disinterest, it will probably be something to do with humanities, like human resources or teaching.

Particularly, I only came to college because my parents insisted. They wanted me to have a ‘formal education’, so I could be ‘someone in life’, or something in the lines of that. The more I look back, the more I wish I hadn’t followed their advice; not only is college not what you seen in those teen movies, but also, the only thing I got so far was a pile of debt and fees that was slowly crushing me to death.

One that I had absolutely no idea how I was going to pay.

It was not that I didn’t have a job or anything, but working on a fast-food joint doesn’t really give out a lot of money (or any money, for that matter). With the economy the way it is, it was pretty impossible to get a better job anywhere else (thanks, baby boomers). It would be nice to have an internship or something, but those are for people with high GPAs, and I was not one of them. Even if I was, most interns get paid in ‘good recommendations’ or ‘references for your résumé’, and while both sound nice, they didn’t put food on the table… and food was kind of what we needed at the moment.

To make things worse (and that was actually something you could achieve), there was Mr. Hayward. Our landlord. He was usually a really nice guy, except when he started hammering down your door, reminding you that you own him three months of rent.

I kept telling him that we were going to pay him soon enough – I just had no idea how or when. Robbing a bank was taken out of question almost immediately; I considered Gone Girl’ing myself, but that would be messy and I didn’t have anyone to blame for my possible murder; and getting another job wouldn’t work, either.

Honestly, part of me kept expecting someone to drop a bag full of money on our doorstep. Either that, or…

You could talk to your dad, I suggested to Eddie, once we were sure the footsteps had gone away. He jumped back into the couch, spreading himself around like a starfish.

Why would I do that?

‘Cause your family is loaded and we could really use a fat check right about now?

Listen, my family ain’t loaded – my dad is. And my dad is also a douchebag. We don’t ask him for anything, Eddie said, putting his hands behind his head.

I kinda knew that already. I’ve known Edoardo Martinez since we were kids and we both got shoved off the playground by the bigger kids. We’ve been together through elementary school and high school and now in college. I never asked him for anything – especially not money – because I knew his family life was troubled, but we were kinda in a pickle here. Last thing I wanted was to end up on the street.

Or worse.

Going back to the dorms.

Can’t you just…think of something? he asked.

"Why can’t you think of something?"

"‘Cos you’re the Smart One, I’m just the Pretty One."

Hah, hilarious. You should be the Funny One.

I’m that, also.

You can’t be two at the same time!

"Course I can. I’m the Funny One and the Pretty One. You’re the Smart One and the Mysterious One", he joked, making jazz hands at me.

"You can’t be two. It’s either one or the other."

But then we’d need two more people.

If we had two more people, maybe we could pay the damn rent!

I tried to hit him with a pillow, but Eddie caught it mid-air, spun it on his finger and smacked me in the face with it. I wish I was the Rich One right about now.

Don’t we all, bud. Don’t we all, he groaned. Speaking of things we never thought could happen in a million years–

Hey!

– you’ll never guess who’s in town.

Who? I asked, already regretting it.

Hayley!

Hayley…Mortimer?

Of course Hayley Mortimer, how many other Hayleys do you know?

Well, there is Hayley from the bookstore, and Hailey with an ‘i’ from my linguistics class…

Yes it was Hayley Mortimer, you dickdweeb!

He threw another pillow in my face, but I managed to catch it before it hit the designed target – my nose, that is. I thought she had moved to LA to work with the celebrities.

More like serve coffee to them, yeah, Eddie scoffed. She told me she’s back in town for a coupla months. One of the actor guys she’s working for is shooting a movie downtown. You should go talk to her, see if she can get you to be an extra or some shit.

"Why don’t you go? I asked, leaning back on the armchair. Aren’t you supposed to be the Pretty One?"

Yeah, but I’m also the one with stage fright, so… how awfully convenient. "But, ya know, even if you don’t get a job, you two could always, uh, catch up."

Eddie stuck his tongue between two fingers, in the least subtle way possible. For the sake of our friendship, I chose to overlook that. I was actually more worried about being pissed at Hayley.

I mean, how could she have talked to Eddie before talking to me? As far as I could remember, we had departed in good terms. Or at least, as good terms as you could get. As her ex-boyfriend, shouldn’t I be the first one she would call?

Okay, probably not the first person, but like… eventually, right?

Hayley, FYI, was part of the old gang back in high school. Granted, we didn’t actually have a gang, it was mostly me and Eddie, and Hayley definitely didn’t hang out with us, given she was several years older, but you get my point. Last time I had seen her, we were in the airport, and she was getting ready to leave us all behind for a glorious life in California.

Hitting her up wouldn’t be so bad, I guess. Even if she didn’t get me a job, we could still catch up – in a physical sense, even. Either way, I thought, what is the worst that could happen?

Boy, I had no idea.

* * * * *

Hayley was really surprised when I called her.

In part because nobody was supposed to have her number (the fact that I called her mother and begged for it notwithstanding), in part because she genuinely did not expect to see me again any time soon. She told me – in her usual, very bothered tone – that when she ran into Eddie on her way out of that bagel shop, she made him promise not to tell anyone he’d seen her.

Pfft, please. Have you met Eddie? The guy can’t keep a secret for more than twenty minutes without turning purple.

It’s not so much that I don’t want to see you, she said, while simultaneously shouting something at someone in the other side of the line. It’s just – I’m kinda soaked in stuff right now.

Nah, dude, I get it. I just thought it would be nice to see each other again, I said, trying not to sound too disappointed about it. Hayley was genuinely one of my favorite people in the world – and I’m not just saying that because she was one of the few girls that didn’t laugh when they saw me naked. She was just really cool, y’know?

No, Eric, I mean I’m literally soaked. I’m on the set, someone – someone shot me with a hose. Don’t laugh or I’ll shove my foot up your a– she stopped, mid-sentence, and I could tell she’d just had an epiphany. You still looking for a job, right?  Eddie said you were looking for a side-thing.

Yeah, sure! You have something for me?

 …Maybe. Where you gonna be this afternoon?

On Brett’s Burger, on the corner of Dooley and Main.

I’m gonna meet you there.

Are you gonna tell me–

But by then she had hung up, gone to do her own thing. She was always like that, I guess, that Hayley; her motto in life was that the world didn’t stop for nobody, and she wasn’t gonna stand still and let it leave her behind.

Probably why she was off working in movie sets and getting sprayed with hoses while I was stuck in an apartment that hasn’t seen a broom in three weeks, my best-friend sleeping on the couch with a two-day old slice of pizza hanging from his hand.

The universe works in mysterious ways, I guess.

The promise of something better in the future gave me enough motivation to go to work that afternoon – and trust me, you needed a whole lot of motivation to put on a yellow-and-purple stripped uniform, stand behind a counter and take shit from people for twelve hours straight (minus coffee breaks).

I wish I had the job Eddie had. He worked with puppies and kittens and wild raccoons on Doc C’s animal clinic. Puppies were much better clients than humans; I’m sure no puppy would barge in during rush hour demanding to speak with the manager because she is pretty sure the double-cheeseburger she bought here two weeks ago gave her diarrhea now.

Although my guess is that he also heard a lot about poop.

Working was stressful but not working was even more stressful, because when you weren’t working, you had no money to do anything. Without money, you couldn’t go out, you couldn’t have a girlfriend (maintaining a social life was expensive!), and worse, you couldn’t do anything at home, because money paid for internet and Netflix, and while you could do without the latter – and just download torrents like a normal poor person – without the former things got a bit tricky. You didn’t even get to watch porn without internet.

God, being a responsible adult was the worst mistake I’ve ever made and I would not recommend it to anyone.

When the doors of the burger joint opened and Hayley strutted in, owning the place like her usual self, it felt like the Pearly Gates had been unlocked to welcome me in.

Her cool girl pose only lasted until she saw me. Then she burst out laughing like a normal person.

You look… ridiculous. Honestly. Just… ridiculous, she said, looking me up and down.

Because of the outfit, right?

…yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Obviously.

What a terrible liar.

Hey, Dutch, can you cover for me? I asked, throwing the keys to the register over to the other clerk.

Jimmy shot me another are you fucking shitting me, Trachtenberg? look from behind his thick-framed glasses, but obliged anyway. That is what good friends are for.

(Actually, I would have to pay him up later, but whatever.)

Hayley led me to the back of the room, where there were as little people as possible. It was early evening and most people were still in classes, so the place was half-empty, but she was being paranoid and I thought it was best not to go against that.

She had changed a whole lot, I had to admit. The strawberry-blonde hair that used to dance around her waist had been cut into an Audrey Hepburn-esque style, and it framed her heart-shaped face really well. The light make-up had served to bring out her hazelnut-brown eyes, matched nicely with the color of her suit. A true businesswoman.

You, on the other hand, haven’t changed a whole lot, she said, as if reading my thoughts. Outgrew the buzz-cut, though, so that’s a start.

I moved away before she tried to ruffle my hair. What was it, fourth grade? But you, now – working with the stars, eh?

"More like for them, she sighed. Which is kind of why I’m here, actually."

Riiight, you have a proposition for me. What is it? You want me to star in your next blockbuster? I made her my best power-ranger fighting instance, but it didn’t get me more than half a chuckle.

It’s, uh, a bit more complicated than that, she said, biting down her lower lip.

What is it, then?

She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, as if she were about to tell the president of the United States that Russia sunk San Francisco or something. What could possibly be this worrisome?

It’s kind of… delicate.

Is it illegal?

I don’t…think so? Maybe? I think depends on the state?

That doesn’t help me at all, Hay. Is it something bad?

No. Not really. Could it even be fun, in a way, I guess.

Alright, alright. I straightened up. So… kind of illegal, but fun. I can think of several options. Does it involve drugs? Selling organs, or fluids?

No, and… how would that be fun?

I don’t know. For a moment I thought you would want me to be your sperm donor.

I think she took it as a joke, because Hayley broke out laughing. Like, full-body, head against the table, screaming laughing. People were staring. Jesus. God. No. I’d rather shoot myself in the face than have a kid, Eric. Much less with you. No offense.

Ok, wow. How the fuck is that not offensive?!

Baby, if I was going to get knocked up, it would be by someone who has at least three mansions. Or, worse case scenario, someone from One Direction. Not someone that can’t even pay me to go to Planned Parenthood.

I have a car, I could drive you there.

Missing the point here, Eric. By a long shot.

Okay, so what is it, then? Don’t beat around the bush too much.

She took a deep breath, centering herself. I… I want you to have sex with my boss.

It took me a couple of seconds to fully process the information.

I’m sorry, what?

I want you to have sex with my boss, she repeated, with a grimace.

Are you joking right now?

Obviously not.

You cannot be serious.

I very much am.

"So you mean, like – what? Like a prostitute?"

Well, I’d say it’s more of an escort thing, but–

I’d still be a hooker!

Keep your voice down, Eric! Jeesh!

She covered my mouth with her hand and smiled politely at the couple in the other side of the room, who had looked at us as if we had just escaped the zoo.

Are you out of your mind? Did you smoke something before coming here? I asked, in a rushed voice.

No to the first question, yes to the second one, but that is beside the point. It’s a good gig.

Why – how – why would you possibly think I would be up for it?

Because you need money? And I need someone I can trust? Also, you’re in town. There are not a lot of options.

Thanks for that.

I hid my face in my hands. That was insane – that was insane, right? How did she – why would she just… ask me something like that? Was she, what, pimping me out? What kind of person did she think I was?

Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sex worker, obviously. That’s a career as much as any other. A lot of people make money off of it – there’s OnlyFans now and stuff. There’s no shame in that.

Right. There’s no shame in that. Why was I against it, then?

Hmm. Maybe I could just hear her out.

Okay, alright. This boss of yours – who is she? Is she hot? Or is it like, an older woman situation?

It’s… uh, she rolled her lips back. Oh-oh. "It’s a he, actually. But yeah, he’s pretty hot."

Oh boy. This just kept getting better and better.

Are you kidding me? Now I know you’re kidding me. Is this your idea of a prank? ‘Cause it’s not funny. I gotta get back to work.

I was ready to stand up and leave, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back, giving me the best puppy-dog eyes I had seen in a while.

I always hated when she did that, because it always worked.

Defeated, I sat down again. If Eddie put you up to this, I swear on my dad’s grave, I’ll–

Your father is not dead, Eric.

Yeah, but he is a construction worker – we have to keep those things ready.

She sighed, throwing her head back. Jesus. I forgot how much of a ray of sunshine you are.

Thank you.

"Not a compliment. Listen, can I just explain to you the situation, before you decide whether or not you wanna bail?"

There was no way on this Earth I’d go gay-for-pay, but Hayley looked dead-serious, and you know when Hayley looks dead-serious, she means business. Fine, go on.

Okay. What I’m going to tell you is a secret. An actual, real secret. Only, like, five people know about this. I’m only telling you because I trust you and because I know that if you open that big pink mouth of yours, you know I’ll be coming down on your ass with the mighty of every god on this planet.

You wouldn’t think it sounds threatening coming from the mouth of someone no taller than 5’4, but it did. Trust me. Who’s this guy, anyway?

"Can’t tell you that. Not right now. What you need to know is that he is really famous. Like, he is everywhere. Think male Jennifer Lawrence after the Hunger Games, or merchandising for Frozen. He has three movies coming out next year, and his last one is on the run for an Academy Award."

Well, darn. The guy sounded important. Why a dude like him would be looking for a fuck in a shithole like Greenwood Valley is beyond me. Especially with another man.

Who knows, maybe he had a kink.

 He’s in the closet, actually, she explained. But he has no intention of coming out any time soon.

Why not? It’s okay to be gay nowadays, isn’t it? There are laws and stuff.

That doesn’t work in Hollywood, baby. Trust me, my guy wouldn’t have gotten to where he is now if he was out. I mean, can you name ten out stars that headed blockbusters in the last ten or so years? Or even five?

I tried to, but my mind came up blank.

Exactly what I thought, she leaned back on the seat, arms folded tightly. Even the ones that are famous, like Neil Patrick Harris and Matt Bomer and Ellen Page – they only came out after their career was well-settled.  Otherwise… just look at Zachary Quinto’s career, dead on its tracks.

I thought it was because he was a sucky actor.

That, too, but there are dozens of sucky actors everywhere. And sucky directors. And sucky writers. Adam Sandler and Bryan Singer are there, and they put out a movie every year or so, don’t they? If you have connections, it doesn’t matter whether or not you suck. All they care about is who you’re sucking – and whether or not you’re doing it out of public eye.

A good point, even if a really sad one. Maybe there was some kind of politics behind this whole thing, but I wasn’t entirely sure if I was interested in knowing any of it. As my mother often said, ignorance is bliss.

So is that why your client wants to hire a prostitute? ‘Cause he can’t get laid with other celebs? I asked, leaning over against the table.

"More or less. This guy… he hasn’t had sex in a while – and by that I mean, over a year. It makes him super cranky and annoying sometimes, so I thought… I thought, if I could find someone for him, just to keep him entertained–"

"So you cocooned this whole plan?"

She scoffed. What else did you expect?

Not you pimping me out, that was for damn sure.

How would this thing even work out, then? I asked, more out of curiosity than anything. The job requirements, I mean.

You would work for about a month, or the time the movie stays in town. You’d come when he called, but probably every other night, she explained. Payment is on a weekly basis, but you can get bonuses if things work out well. You’d have to sign a non-disclosure agreement, making sure you would keep your mouth shut about whatever happened between the two of you.

"How very Fifty Shades of Grey of him."

Funny thing, he was actually in the short list for Christian Grey, she noted. But then he got a call from someone and dropped out, no explanation. Same thing happened to Charlie Hunnam.

Really? Who was it?

He didn’t tell me, but… I think it may have been Robert Pattinson.

Yeesh.

I know, right? her nose twitched. But what do you think? Want the job?

It was my turn to grimace. Man…Hay, I’d love to help you out, but – I’m not gay. Guys are just not the thing for me. I just can’t see myself rolling naked in bed with another dude.

You’re focusing too much on the gay sex and too little on the opportunity, Eric.

What’s that supposed to–

She interrupted me by putting her bag over the table. Shuffling around it, Hayley fished out her reddest lipstick, grabbed a napkin and scrubbed a couple of numbers on it. Too short to be a phone number, I figured.

When she handed it over to me, I just stared at it for a moment, blankly. Is this a code? Am I supposed to know what it means?

It’s your salary. Or would be, if you took the job.

Holy fucking shitballs. There are five figures in here, Hayley.

I know.

I couldn’t make this much in a year on that place. This guy is gonna pay me this much to get fucked in the ass for a month?

Don’t be silly, Eric. This is your weekly payment.

I can tell you, I got really close of having an actual heart attack. "Jesus, how much do you make on this job?"

Hayley didn’t answer, but her coy smile kinda told me why she was the one wearing Prada while I had a uniform with ketchup stains.

Just think it over, will ya? You don’t need to answer me right now, she said, pinching me in the cheek. I mean, what would you have to lose?

My dignity, for starters!

Eric, please. You’re the guy who climbed on a table in the middle of the cafeteria with a ukulele and made me a serenate. You don’t have any dignity.

Hey – that was romantic!

"You were thirteen and I was in high school."

My point stands.

She got up, ready to leave, but not before pushing the napkin a little bit closer to me. Just… think about it, then give me a call. It’s not an opportunity that comes around every other day.

Yeah, it certainly fucking didn’t. At least not for me. Closest thing I’d have to someone dropping that proverbial bag of money outside my door – but at what cost?

It wasn’t just posting bulge pictures on the internet, or jerking off in front of a webcam. There would be another guy involved; a guy who’d expect me to… do things. Things I wasn’t sure I could do. Things I had not done to myself (because I was never flexible enough) or with women (because… they were just not into it). Was I really willing… consider this? Even for a second?

I mean. It was… God. It was a lot of money. Maybe too much money? This much money just to, what, sleep with some guy? Even if he was a famous guy. It seemed excessive. There had to be a catch somewhere.

Before you go… I called out, grinding my teeth. Just tell me, is he into weird stuff like spanking, or – or –

I dunno. Never had sex with him, she said, sharply. "If you were to accept the job, I would set up a meeting between the two of you so you could discuss terms and things you are – or aren’t – comfortable with. Don’t worry, though, he’s an awesome guy, and as far as I know, he definitely doesn’t have a red room of pain, so you can chill."

And on that note, she left, like she didn’t just drop a bomb atop of me. I stayed behind with nothing but a napkin, a proposition and a boss that was staring at me from behind the counter, with the kind of look on his eyes that told me he wasn’t against the idea of eating my liver for dinner.

chapter two.

MR. STARK WILL SEE YOU NOW.

I didn’t call Hayley again. Not later that day, and not for the two days to follow.

Before you ask – no, it wasn’t because my cellphone ran out of minutes (although that…also happened). I didn’t call her because even the mere thought of dialing up her number sent my stomach into knots. Not the good, butterfly-y knots, the terrible ones.

I just felt it was…I don’t know. A big step, maybe? More like a leap, I’d say. The idea of becoming a rent-boy – a hustler! What would my parents think about it? Eddie? And what could it possibly mean for my future? I don’t think that’s just something you put past you once it’s done, now, is it?

I mean, it was a job. A hell of a job! And definitely more than a minimum-wage worker. And… and it wasn’t like I was gonna be on the corners waiting for guys to pick me up, right? It would be different.

Still, man. Really, really weird. Especially for a guy. It was usually the ladies who venture into this kind of line of business, wasn’t it?