Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“My mom got sick. My dad left a few months later so that meant I had to stay home and care for her.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She had ALS. She passed away two years ago.”
“Jeez. I’m sorry.”
“The end was kind of a relief. It was real hard watching her suffer. In the weeks before she died she couldn’t move at all. She couldn’t swallow, she could barely breathe… she couldn’t even talk to me anymore. But I’d do it all over again because she was my mom and I adored her.”
“So that’s why you needed quick money? That’s what got you into this business?”
“Yeah. I’ve been paying off medical bills ever since she passed, and the dancing just wasn’t enough. I couldn’t afford to eat let alone rent somewhere to live. I knew a few guys who were in the porn industry and it seemed like a natural progression from what I was doing.”
“What the fuck was your dad playing at?” I blurted, unable to hold in my anger. “Leaving a kid to deal with that shit on his own?”
“I can’t answer that.” He shrugged. “Guess he couldn’t cope.”
“I’m sorry, Mase, but that makes me so fucking angry.”
“Don’t let it. I don’t. He’s not worth the energy it takes for you to stay mad.”
“But because of him you’re doing something you don’t want to.”
“You keep saying that to me,” he replied, pursing his eyebrows in confusion. “But I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I’m a grown man, Ry. I can make my own decisions. If this is because I told you I’ve never bottomed then you’re reading too much into it. I’ve had sex. I love sex. The guys I’ve met so far in this industry are some of the best I’ve ever known. They’re genuine. Real. That’s all there is to it. Sure, I’m not planning on doing this longer than I need to, but that’s not because I think it’s wrong or seedy, it’s because I’ve got dreams, you know?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Of course I have. Doesn’t everybody?”
“I don’t,” I said, feeling quite pathetic.
“You must have some. What did you wanna be when you were a kid? No ten year old dreams of becoming a porn star.”
“When I was ten I wanted to be a chef.” I shook my head and laughed at the ridiculous memory.
“Yet now you live off pizza?”
“I was ten! Ten year olds are stupid.”
“Given the fact I wanted to be a mechanic when I was ten I guess I have to agree.”
“What’s wrong with being a mechanic?” I asked, confused.
“Nothin’, if you’re not gayer than Christmas on acid,” he joked. “My dad was a car fanatic and I just wanted to be like him, I suppose. I remember the first time he took me into his garage to show me around an engine and the tiniest drop of oil spilled onto my new, white sneakers. I cried for hours. Like you literally can’t imagine the drama I kicked up about it.”
I smiled, imagining a young, perfectly styled Mason, flipping out over his shoes. He definitely wasn’t like that now. I’d seen camper wrestlers than Mason.
“I was a very theatrical ten year old.”
“So what’s your dream now?” I asked curiously, shifting on my side to face him, propping myself up on my elbow. Mason was still sitting up straight with his back against the headboard and the Xbox controller still on his lap.
“Photography - being able to capture a whole story with just one photo. It captivates me. Life and people captivate me. To be able to take something, or someone, and create an image, a piece of art that will last forever…” he trailed off, his cheeks pinking just slightly as if he was embarrassed. But he had never looked so damn beautiful as the passion he held in his words made his blue eyes glisten with pride. “So tell me,” he continued, changing the subject. “How’d you get into this business? Sounds like you were going places working for Elle, what made you give that up?”
“I like hairdressing, but I don’t feel that passion for it like you do with photography. I left school with no qualifications, it was only a matter of time before my parents kicked me out and I needed a job. I applied for anything and everything – all kinds of different apprenticeships, something that could actually take me somewhere one day. Elle was the first one to reply and the second we met we just hit it off. She said I was cocky and mischievous and that her clients would love that. She’s been like a mum to me ever since. But don’t ever tell her I said that. She’s getting a bit tetchy about her age now she’s nearing the big three-oh. Honestly, you’d think she was hitting sixty not thirty.”