Episode 37 - The Story

Trigger/Content Warning: child abuse, assault, implied sexual abuse/assault

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Amari squeezed Yangyang's arm reassuringly and continued his story.

"The beatings weren't usually too bad. Scars, but nothing broken. And I wasn't the most well-adjusted kid. People joke that I'm a punk, but I really was back then. I only hung out with older kids or adults, and I stole, bullied, fought... I didn't give a shit about anything. When I said I had a reputation, I wasn't kidding. That's why coming out at school didn't make much difference."

He paused, thinking again of how his grandmother found out, and felt the tiniest twinge of guilt.

"It wasn't the same at home. The school called my grandmother to tell her, and I didn't deny it. I'm from a small town, so everyone knew by the end of the week. She blamed my dad for it, like it was somehow his fault his kid was gay, and that put him over the edge. The beatings got worse, and she stopped trying to protect me."

He reached around to part the hair on the back of his head, hanging it low so Yangyang could see the large scar.

"When I started the ninth grade, my dad came home one night completely wasted, and after a good beating, he threw me across the room. I hit the edge of the kitchen counter, blacked out, and woke up in the hospital to blinding light. Everything else healed, and the light went away, but it damaged my optic nerves. That can't ever be fixed."

Lifting his head, Yangyang pulled him closer, chin resting on his shoulder. The breathing in his ear was a little heavier, but the man still didn't say anything.

"Once they saw the other scars, my dad went to jail for child abuse and assault, and they gave my grandmother custody. It didn't matter at that point... Our relationship was too broken. My friends weren't really friends, and no one was interested in taking care of a blind kid. Which was fine, since I wasn't interested in being cared for. Fuck them. When I turned sixteen, I dropped out, stole some money, and left."

Amari took a breath and paused, rubbing Yangyang's back to comfort him. "Are you okay?" he asked, more worried about frightening the man than reliving bad memories. Yangyang just grunted and held him tight, so he kept going.

"I knew some people, older kids I'd hung around, and crashed with them a while. It was a shitty apartment in a shitty area, filled with addicts, people who sold their bodies for money, people who sold other people's bodies for money... Or worse. It didn't really matter to me, I didn't have anywhere else to go, but a sixteen-year-old blind kid with a small body and a pretty face..."

With a shudder, he trailed off, not able to tell Yangyang what had happened in that studio apartment. It had taken him years to sufficiently suppress that past, and they were still things he could never say to anyone.

"Anyway, there was a lot of interest in me. And the people I stayed with took advantage of it, so after a few months of that, I left."

He swallowed hard to keep the memories of the worst months of his life from flooding back, but he desperately wanted to at least tell someone this much - to finally release the things he had trapped inside and move on. Yangyang's breathing had become harsher and he had winced at "interest," but he still didn't move or make a sound. Amari knew he should stop, that he was selfishly using the man to make himself feel better, but the words were rushing out on their own now.

"Uh, so, I slept on the street, or in shelters, and I managed to get my old Gibson fixed and start busking. People were happy giving money to a pretty boy with a decent voice. It wasn't awful, but I was still just wandering around."

At this point, his voice was a little lighter, as if it was easier to breathe, the weight lifted from his chest. He had never told anyone about his life, but saying it out loud made him think that maybe these experiences didn't need to control him anymore. They were gone, but he was still here.

"That's when I met Seungwoo. He fed me and let me live with him, and I worked for him. He managed a lot of things, but I mainly had two jobs. Sometimes I worked as a messenger, since I couldn't see the obviously illegal stuff I was delivering.

"I made the most money as an escort, though. Seungwoo would bring international businessmen or other well-paying customers here, to the karaoke, and I'd accompany them in whatever way they wanted."

"Stop," Yangyang cut in, speaking for the first time. His voice was deeper than Amari had ever heard before and he shook with rage. "Hyung knew about this? I'll fucking kill him."

Before the man could stand, Amari squeezed his arm, fingers desperately digging into the muscle, and his legs wrapped tight around his waist. "It wasn't his fault. Seungwoo controlled everything. Besides, no one forced me. It was a job. And I agreed to it. You can't blame anyone for it except me, okay?" The words came out fast, anxious, not wanting to pull anyone else into this.

Yangyang stayed seated, but his body was still hot and tense.

"I didn't wanna tell you," he said, swallowing his fears, "because it isn't something I'm proud of. It's disgusting. I was disgusting, and I didn't want you to see me differently. Or, maybe change your mind..." He swallowed again at the thought. "But, you'd find out eventually, and for better or worse, it made me who I am."

The man took in a long breath, and the tension loosened as he exhaled. "Your past would never change the way I feel about you. I like the person you are now, so how could that change anything?"

The tone in Yangyang's voice was a strange mix of fury and sorrow, and Amari took his face in his hands, kissing him softly. He had never been more grateful to have this man in his life, but had also never been so filled with guilt, forcing all of his pain onto him like this. It tore at him and as good as he felt, part of him wished he could take the burden back.

Returning his kiss, Yangyang wrapped large fingers around his small wrists. "You don't have to say any more."

"But, Yang ge. Everything else is good." He flashed him a reassuring smile. "There's still trauma, but living and working here was a turning point in my life. Do you only wanna hear the bad things?"

"Of course not."

Yangyang pulled Amari back into his arms and he could feel the man's breathing even out. He pressed himself against the warm, broad chest, still smiling and feeling lighter than ever.

"Minwoo really was a good friend," he continued after a moment. "He helped me learn to use the accessibility features on my phone, so I wouldn't need help from strangers. He traveled around with me, and helped me memorize station layouts and bus schedules. He's always cheerful and optimistic, and he's the reason I moved into a shelter. He's also the reason I escaped from his brother with a large amount of cash."

He let out a quiet laugh. The theft had been Minwoo's idea to begin with, but he could never tell anyone that.

"Anyway, I had money and freedom, and a good understanding of the city thanks to him." He lifted the man's head and frowned. "So, you should be nice to him, okay? Not so pushy and jealous."

He felt Yangyang nod and returned to smiling.

"After that, I ended up wandering around Chinatown, and āyí saw me and invited me in for a meal. She was crazy to do that. I was a seventeen-year-old homeless kid she knew nothing about. She could've been killed."

Amari scratched his head, remembering their first encounter. He had never entered someone's home like that before, but had told himself he would just take advantage of this old woman for some food and go.

"I left right after. It took her a couple months to convince me to stay, and I was cold to them for a long time. I insisted on working, but was terrible. I broke so many things and scared customers away, but they didn't care. Ziggy actually found me before the Zhangs, so I might've ended up where I am anyway, but staying with them really helped me feel like a person again."

Yangyang gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and his smile brightened. Looking back, he realized how much of his current life he had taken for granted.

"Ziggy nagged me for over a year to live with him. He saw me playing in the subway and just kept coming back. It was so fucking annoying. I lived with the Zhangs instead, but I was just a burden on them, so I eventually gave in. He's crazy, but he's the closest thing to family I've got. I love shūshu and āyí, but they took me in because I needed help. However you look at it, it was charity."

He felt bad, boiling down their kindness like that, but ultimately, that's what it was. And charity can only go so far.

"Zig... I think he's just lonely. Or whatever's beyond lonely. He doesn't judge, he doesn't treat me differently, and he's never tried to help me with anything. Cate too. I think they're so used to being outsiders, they don't know what normal is."

Taking Yangyang's face in his hands again, he gave him a long kiss. "And then I met you. See? Only good things left."

Yangyang pulled him into a tight embrace until he was sure he would be crushed.

"Sorry," he choked out, the man not relaxing his hold. "I know that was too much, but the words just kept coming out... I couldn't stop."

"I'm glad you told me." His grip loosened so he could shift to look at his face. "Do you feel better? You don't regret telling me?"

"I don't regret anything. I'm genuinely happy right now." Amari smiled wide, but then his happiness faded and he moved his fingers through Yangyang's hair. "This trauma... It's not gonna just disappear. Hopefully you can be patient with me."

Strong arms hugged him again. "Of course."

"Okay, you're gonna squeeze the life outta me." He pat the man on the shoulder, gesturing for him to let go, and when he did, Amari stood and stretched. He was sure he had never said so much at one time, and exhaustion was beginning to hit. "I'm tired. Let's go home."

Holding out a hand to help Yangyang up, he said, "Wanna come with me?"