His gas was running low. Goldstone was still a couple of hours away when he stopped in the middle of nowhere to fill up his tank. He'd been driving through dirt road for an hour, the same route he'd always taken whenever he had deliveries to Goldstone. He looked at his watch, it was a quarter after twelve noon, he was going to be early.
All he could think of was how sweet she smelled that morning, her sweat on his skin as they pressed against each other, her soft lips touching his, the taste of her tongue. He was going out of his mind having to leave her for two months. He felt a bit at peace knowing she was going to be busy with school, an image he can live with while he's away. Having so many things going on in his head, he was oblivious when a piece of paper fell out of his pocket. He left the gas station not knowing that one small piece of paper held the fate of his relationship with Charlie for the next few months.
When he arrived at Goldstone, he dropped his stuff at Jeremy's. He reached into his pocket, his face turned white when he couldn't find it. "Shit!" he looked under the car seat, in the legs compartment, by the door, the dashboard, he checked his pocket again, it was gone. "Fuck!" he tried to think.
"What's the matter, man?" Jeremy asked.
"Fuck! I lost my girlfriend's number!" he was in a state of panic.
"What? You don't remember her number?" it was an odd thing for city people not to remember their loved ones phone number, because everyone had a few sets of numbers embedded in their memories.
"We don't use the phone very much in Bluebridge, it's a really small town, man," he was still turning his truck upside down.
"Just call your friends, then," it was the city people's solution. Tom glanced at him, not repeating his previous answer. "Damn, you're fucked, Tom," Jeremy commented as if to confirm what he already knew.
He wanted to believe that it must've fallen out of his pocket inside the truck, but after a whole hour of searching, he knew it had fallen out when he was paying for gas. He hated himself for losing that piece of paper, he couldn't think straight for the rest of the day, thinking what Charlie must've gone through not receiving his call that day ... nor would she ever receive it for the next two months.
**********
He had to take off his shirt with a few other guys in the middle of the dance floor at The Silver Tongue. They stood side by side in a row, the five chosen best amongst hundreds of men who wanted the same job. Bradley Thorne hand picked him to be prime candidate, thanks to the two week internship as a bouncer he did in early summer.
A senior performer was assessing them, touching their chests and stomachs, turning their faces left and right, looking at their postures. The room was dark with only a few little yellow lights over their heads. The club wasn't going to be opened in a few more hours. Simon Daniels looked like he was in his late 30's, early 40's at the most, he took off his shirt and his bare chest looked more firm than most 20 year olds he knew.
His skin was tanned, veins were bulging out along his forearms, his muscle tones ... perfect, six pack deep and carved on his stomach. When he flexed his muscles, a few other muscles formed around his arms and back. Even though he was retired for over 10 years, he still got the body envied by younger men that were aspired to be like him. As it turned out, Simon Daniels was 55 years old.
"You'll be spending the next month at the gym, you need to get those muscles out, add more weight ... you won't get a lot in a month, but it's a start," he started the briefing. "And then you'll spend the next month learning choreography with my colleagues here at The Silver Tongue ... we try to give the best performance every single time, so the preparation is also nothing less than your best, you have to give it all you've got to stay here," he continued.
Tommy was a little puzzled by his surroundings, Bradley had signed him up for a job at The Silver Tongue, he thought it was an extension of what he did previously. The word 'performing' made him nervous. He kept his mouth shut, not wanting the other guys to find out he was there without knowing what the job was.
"If you get it right the first month, you'll advance to the second ... if you get it right on the first performance, you'll have the chance for the second ... and so on, there's always someone that's willing to replace you if you're not up for the job, it's gonna be grueling, challenging, degrading at times ... for some of you, it might be pleasurable and exciting ... but it makes good money and you have a chance of getting EXPOSED to the most notable people in Goldstone," the other four candidates laughed.
"Some people see this profession as man-whoring ... well, for starters like yourselves, in many cases, it may come to that ... but here in Silver Tongue, you have a better chance not to dive in to that hole, my advise is ... don't get sucked into temptations of making more money then what you'll earn without private jobs on the side, and don't be tempted by the glitz and glamour of the high bidders lifestyle, ... and stay away from drugs."
He started to get a picture of what it was all about, after all he had seen the performances when he was there in early summer. Three nights in a row every weekend, two shows a night, six shows every week. He was about to enter a world that's beyond his imaginations, he wasn't sure that it was something he wanted to do to start his life in Goldstone, but the money was better than any job he had ever done.
"How old are you?" Simon asked him.
"Twenty."
Simon tapped his cheek with the palm of his hand, "Twenty one is the minimum legal age in this city, your answer was suppose to be 'twenty one'" he suggested. "You need to get a fake ID for the time being ... go out to the back office, someone will take care of you there," he added. Tommy nodded.
"You'll start training tomorrow, if you need to ask me anything, feel free to do so anytime, I'll be your coach through the first month ... and with that said, your summer is officially over gentlemen, welcome to The Silver Tongue Chippendale Club."