“Ryan’s the same as me because he’s HIV positive. I’m HIV positive.”
All traces of moisture evaporated from my mouth, my tongue so suddenly dry I felt like I was about to choke on it. Either from the previous anger, or the fact I felt like I’d just been sucker-punched in the chest, that hovering tear rolled down my cheek.
“HIV,” I repeated, the word feeling bitter on my tongue. “For how long?”
“I was diagnosed six years ago.” His words winded me and I tugged on my shirt in an attempt to ease the imaginary sensation that my throat was closing up.
“I…I…” I didn’t actually have a clue what I wanted to say. “I need to leave.”
“Matt wait,” Alex pleaded, blocking the door with his arm as I approached it.
“I share everything with you!” I cried. “All this time…” I trailed off, my heart pounding so violently it took my breath, and my words, away. Shoving his arm to the side, I opened the door and ran.
As I jogged to my car my emotions battled with one another inside my head. Betrayal, hurt, anger and devastation all fighting for the top spot. I slid into my car, grateful for the tinted windows when my head fell forward onto the wheel and I cried like an eight year old girl.
Another thing I liked to do when I was upset, apart from being a dick, was to consume alcohol until I could barely remember my own name. I may’ve owned a club with my own endless supply of vodka, but I knew I would be found too easily there. So I headed home to shower and change before ringing one of my old hangouts, a VIP lounge at one of LA’s most exclusive clubs, to let them know I’d be arriving tonight. The dress code excluded the VIP lounge, as it should for the five-thousand-dollar entrance fee, so I slipped into my favorite pair of ripped jeans and paired it with a white button-down shirt and black waistcoat.
Arriving at the club was like stepping back in time, back to a point where life was fun and uncomplicated. I had a driver pick me up and when I stepped out of the car into a sea of flashing lights coming from the photographers that were permanently camped outside, I almost forgot how angry I was with Alex. Why hadn’t he trusted me enough to tell me about such an integral part of himself? Granted, it was a purposeful omission rather than a direct lie, but I suddenly felt like I didn’t know my best friend at all.
And fuck, that hurt.
His revelation also made me realize how little I actually knew about HIV. It’s one of those things you hear about but don’t pay any particular attention to. My knowledge covered the fact you can’t transmit it through touch or saliva and that it was one of the reasons suiting up the big guy was so important. I never felt like I needed to learn any more than that.
I needed alcohol and I needed it fast, so I didn’t entertain the paparazzi or the screaming chicks outside. I strode straight past them alongside one of the club’s security guards who escorted me to the upstairs lounge. The best thing about places like this? I didn’t need to put in an ounce of effort to get where I needed to be; the land of obliteration.
I sank into one of the white leather couches nestled in the corner of the dimly lit room, allowing the waiters to service my every need. Relishing the burn of the whiskey chaser as it slithered down my throat, I felt every one of my problems drift away with each sip. Feeling a flush creep around my neck after the fourth, maybe fifth, drink, I popped the top two buttons on my shirt, undoing a third when I saw a brunette with legs that went all the way up to the fucking clouds approach me. This lounge was strictly VIP only, but everyone knew they ‘accidentally’ let a few chicks slip through the net, providing they were hotter than the coals of hell.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked as she settled down beside me, flashing her a wink that I knew would dissolve her panties. It was about time I moved on from my ridiculous fascination with Alex. So far, all it’d caused was a fuck ton of confusion, anger, and the loss of a friendship. I needed to get back to my old self. And what better way than sticking my dick between this girl’s ginormous tits?
“I’ll take a rum and Diet Coke, please,” she answered with a saccharine voice, tilting her head and looking up at me like a lost puppy. I clicked my fingers in the air, relaying her order to the waiter who was by my side in an instant. “I’m Precious,” she introduced herself.