00.20. Jamie, that white dude with dreadlocks I met on NYE at Arq with Shane, might take my room here. He’s coming over tomorrow to see it.
8.05 am. Woke up, my head filled with dreams about people wanting to kill me or ripping me off.
11.39 am. On cam4. Naked but not showing the goods. Jay’s cell is switched off, starting to think it was a burner. Fuck me.
12.39 pm. I’ve called the house and left a voicemail on Manager David’s phone. I want to go back, only if things change.
1.20 pm. Boy, I’m going to the house, more capable than ever. Belle may have won the first round but she’s in for a treat. I won’t have her sacked, I know that, and it’s fine, but if she ever crosses me again, I’ll have her killed or I’ll hire guys to book her to mess her around a bit. I will make things change over there. Mark my word. They don’t know what I can do. My nickname is Al Quaeda for a reason. I told Dave last time I saw him there that I won’t discuss my private life anymore. I’m not here to make friends. I should talk to Marley. And most importantly, I don’t need a sugar daddy. I came here on my own, wih my own money, I have no intention to alter that. David was a good boyfriend, but I don’t need one. I solemnly promise myself that I’m going to make it here. I can’t go to Melbourne just now, it would be premature and sex work is heavily regulated there. I’m going to work double shifts from now on and I’ll fight the boredom with writing. I’m destined to the Olympus, I won’t settle for less. I’m on the train from Lewisham. Brace yourselves, bitches, I’m back. I’ve been doing quite a lot of thinking and I know I can’t take things as idle and chill as people would like them to me. It matters to me. Kissing means the world to me. Keeping one’s options open, polyamourous, open relationships, that doesn’t apply to me. That’s fear. I’m not afraid. I think I still have some unresolved issues with my brother and my dad, people who loved me but died, my dad even chosing death over me, so on some level being dumped ignites thoses sparks all over again, the neverending pain, and I don’t know what I should do to change that, but I don’t even know if I want to change, it made me who I am, it explains how intense and worked up and intransigeant I get. Is it a bad thing?
2 pm. I’m at the house. The girl at the management is one of the wisest, most experience trans workers. I told her what happened and now I’m in the big room with the Asian girls and Amita is here. I’m in a good place.
3.30 pm. So I had a client for an hour, 57 year-old Neil, married, a Scott Bakula lookalike, huge fantasy for me as kid when he was on Quantum Leap and now that I’ve seen him in Behind the Candelabra and Looking, boy, I want him. Neil has a 9 inches. It was great, I let him come in my mouth. Also, Alan assaulted me when I got the job. He told me before not to come near the intro room and right after I did and got booked, when I was fetching Neil a glass of water, threatened he would get immigration on my ass, which I found hilarious so I laughed and then he kicked me and made me fall on the water cooler. Such a low move for a low life. He got kicked out for the day but will be back tonight. Belle will be here too. Bring it on. Jonathan, at the management, told me I could press charges and involve the cops and warned both Alan and Belle that they would get sacked if drama was to happen again. I feel shaky, scared, but I know I have the management behind me. And Marley’s here. She’s not doing so good, coming down drugs and she had a panic attack this morning so we’re going to hang out at hers after work. It fucked her up to see violence. It’s her birthday in a week. I’ll be okay, and now I can pay rent. And I have power. Alan and Belle not so much anymore. This is not their house. It’s everyone’s, it’s a haven. This place is the fucking Truman Show and guess what, they’ve been playing French music all day.
8.22 pm. Just left a two-hour outcall, my first, in a hotel on Anzac Avenue in Kensington with 30 year-old first timer Harry who’s Middle Eastern. He was quite big but had a pretty face and wanted me to fuck him bareback which I didn’t manage at all. We did coke twice, which didn’t help. I couldn’t get hard. And now the police is here apparently. Marley just told me. I wonder if it’s because of what happened earlier. Would Alan do that? Turn against the hand that feeds him? He already fucked any chance he could have had to become a manager. When it was clear that I couldn’t get hard at all, I told Harry we could watch gay porn but that turned him off completely and he told me he was done so I took a taxi back to the house.