Logan, page 15
part #2 of Tough London Series
He doesn’t do anything particularly annoying, to be honest. It’s one of the better visits that he’s made to the shop. But he outstays his welcome. He has a little basket with him and he’s been steadily filling it with a variety of paints and brushes from the shop. I don’t want to rush him, I don’t want to make him leave without buying that stuff.
‘So,’ he says finally, ‘I see that the caveman you had working here the other day still isn’t back. I’m glad to see that. I was afraid I was going to have to take my business elsewhere.’
To be honest I can’t believe that he’s come back to the shop at all after that happened the last time he was in.
‘Well, it looks like he’s not going to be working here any more,’ I say. I can feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. There’s no way I’m going to cry in front of Marco, no way at all.
Come on, Clark, be tough.
‘Well, good riddance to bad rubbish,’ says Marco. ‘Now, shall we say a discount of 30% today, considering I’m buying over £300 worth of items. It would be a nice way to say sorry for the inconvenience I experienced last time I was in here.’
There’s no way I could afford to give even my best friend a 30% discount, and there is no chance I’m going to give Marco that much off. Why should I give him any kind of discount at all?
I wouldn’t even be covering my costs for some of the items in his basket. I’d actually lose money, and for what reason? To keep Marco, my one nightmare customer, happy?
But I think it through. I know how this is going to go. The same way it always does. I’m going to protest a few times, waste precious minutes of my day arguing with this annoying bully, and he’s going to argue back, and I’m going to get annoyed and angry and maybe get so angry that I cry or shout, and then eventually, when I realise that he is never going to back down and as I can just feel the seconds of my life ticking I away I will just agree to it, give him what he wants and then hate myself for the rest of the day.
Maybe the best thing to do is to just give in now. Maybe I should just suck it up and at least save a bit of time. I’m going to end up hating myself, either way.
Then, I think about Logan. I think about the way he doesn’t take any shit from anyone. I think about the way he stuck up for his ex-partner, Josh, even though it had cost him his freedom. I think about the way he stuck up for me, even though it had cost him a black eye.
Clark, I think, time for you to stick up for yourself, no matter the consequences.
‘You know what Marco, I think you should just put the items you’ve picked up back on the shelves. I’m not selling you anything at a discount, and you won’t give up until you get a discount, so why don’t we just cut the crap and leave it.’
He opens his mouth and is about to say something, so I decide to cut him off before he has a chance to.
‘I’m serious,’ I say. ‘Put your items back, and leave. And don’t bother coming back. I agree with Logan. We don’t need your custom.’
‘We?’ he says.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ I say, fighting the instinct to blush.
‘So you want me to just leave?’
‘You’ve got two options,’ I say, ‘pay full price, for everything. Never bring any item back for a refund. Or, leave, right now, and don’t come back. I don’t have enough energy in my life to deal with this kind of nonsense.’
He stands still and holds my gaze for a minute, looking angry and defiant.
‘Hmmph,’ he finally says, looking down at the counter. ‘Very well, full price it is.’
I feel like punching the air or doing a somersault. I’ve won gosh-darn it! I’ve finally plucked up the courage to stand up to Marco. I can hardly contain my smugness. I try to maintain my professional standards, keeping a friendly smile on my face, but inside I’m grinning from ear to ear like a maniac.
As I walk home, I think about how cruel it is to be on my way to be dumped by someone I really like, someone who’s inspired me in all sorts of little ways and some very big ones, too.
My good mood fades, and by the time I turn the corner onto my road, I’m feeling really down. There’s Logan, leaning against the streetlamp outside my place. He looks tired, but gorgeous.
Oh Logan, what can I do to make you give me a chance?
It doesn’t feel right that things are about to end, just as they were about to start.
‘You look well, Clark,’ he says. ‘It feels like ages since I saw you last.’
‘Let’s go inside,’ I say.
‘Wait a second,’ he says. He looks a little uncomfortable, like he’s shifting from one foot to the other, trying to decide what to say to me. I can see the confusion on his face. ‘Before anything else, I just wanted to say sorry for what happened the other day. I didn’t know Dizzy was going to be that bad. I didn’t know he was going to be bad at all, to be honest. They way he spoke to you, it was out of line. He’s not normally like that. He’s getting better, but he needs medical help. So, I wanted to say sorry.’
‘No problemo,’ I say, trying to keep it together.
I don’t know if I can do this.
I push the door open and head inside. When Logan crosses the threshold it feels as though I’m being followed by some kind of bad omen. I feel a sad, hollow emptiness, like someone waiting to be executed.
Then, we talk.
24
LOGAN
* * *
It’s strange being back in his flat again. There’s this smell, like vanilla and spice, that I’ve totally forgotten about. It’s amazing how much you can forget in a week. And even more amazing that you can know stuff without knowing you know it. Like the smell of this place.
I hadn’t even registered it before, but now that I’m back here again, it’s as obvious as gravity.
‘Thanks for letting me in your house,’ I say. ‘And sorry for calling you at work. I know it sounds lame, but I’d been trying to pluck up the courage to call you for a while. I like I should strike while the iron is hot.’
‘That’s very brave of you,’ he replies, sarcasm dripping off his every word.
‘Well,’ I say, ‘I guess there’s some stuff that I’m brave about,and some that I’m not.’
That’s the fucking understatement of the century.
Why am I here? Why am I doing this? I want him so badly. I can feel it, my lust for him. And he wants me! It’s obvious.
Why deny yourself, Logan? Why not just give in.
No. That’s what the old me would do. The irresponsible me. The dangerous me.
I have to do what’s best for me, and what’s best for him. I have to be honest.
‘Look, Clark,’ I say, after a deep, loud sigh. ‘We can’t be together. It’s not right. We’re from different worlds, and I know that sooner or later either I’m gonna hurt you, or you’re gonna hurt me.’
‘That’s bullshit,’ he says, with anger in his eyes. It’s a surprise to hear him swear. A thrill. ‘We’re from the same world. So what if I’m an art teacher and you’re an ex-prisoner? We still breathe the same air. We feel the same sun on our skin. We speak the same language.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘But that’s not what I mean. You know, you told me that you need to be with someone sensible, someone responsible, someone who’s not like you’re old ex. I’m not that person. I like danger, I like living life on the edge.’
He’s trying to look angry, but I can see the sadness in his eyes. I wonder whether he can see the sadness in mine.
‘I know that I’m bad for you,’ I continue. ‘And I know that since I came into your life, I’ve caused you nothing but trouble and drama. I argued with that customer in your shop. Your best customer. I scared you in the dark. I beat up your ex-boyfriend. I got you attacked by my best friend. I mean Christ, I’ve been nothing but bad news for you since you met me. And don’t forget that years ago I started a fucking prison riot in one of your art classes. I don’t want to inflict this crazy life on you.’
‘Don’t you get it Logan?’ he asks. ‘Don’t you get that I don’t care about all that stuff? It doesn’t matter to me. My life has been boring for years. Meeting you got my pulse racing again. You reminded me that I was alive.’
‘No Clark,’ I say. ‘It’s you that doesn’t get it. You might not mind right now, but in time, you will. It’ll grind you down. And things are gonna get more crazy for me. Even more dangerous. It’s just not right for you.’
‘What do you mean things are going to get even more crazy?’ he says, a note of genuine concern in his voice. ‘Why are things going to get more crazy?’
‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. You don’t need to worry about me.’
‘Logan,’ he says. ‘If you’re really dumping me right now, then there’s no harm in telling me what the problem is. We can still be friends, right? Friends tell each other things.’
I guess there isn’t any harm in telling him. In fact, it might just scare him off enough that he’ll leave me alone.
‘OK, well, if you want to get to know me, I guess I should tell you this kind of stuff.’
He nods.
‘I need money. I need it fast. I can’t get a job. My benefits are worth almost nothing. So, I’m gonna get involved with a gang. I’m calling my old friend, Byron. I’m going to sell drugs. I’m going to be a bodyguard. I’m going to do whatever I need to for the money I have to earn. It’s that simple really.’
He looks shocked.
‘Logan,’ he says, ‘that’s not like you. What do you need money for? Why can’t you get a job?’
I can’t help but laugh. Why can’t I get a job? That is the fucking question.
‘Not everyone’s like you, Clark,’ I say. ‘Not everyone is willing to give an ex-prisoner a chance at employment. Do you know how long I was waiting for that work experience? Too long.’
‘OK, well, I don’t know, why don’t you come back to the shop? I still want to help you out - you’re a good guy. You don’t need to break the law.’
‘Look Clark, as nice of an offer as that is, it just won’t work for me. I need money. It’s not just that I can’t get work. It’s that I need fucking money. I don’t want to be an intern.’
‘Well maybe I could give you a job? Things have been going a little better at work recently…’
‘Clark, I need to help Dizzy get a deposit for a place. Plus I need to pay for my living situation. There’s no way that a job at Kahlo’s Crafts is going to cover that kind of money.’
I hadn’t planned on telling him why I’m looking for money so quickly, but it just slipped out. The frustration of the situation is really getting to me.
‘Oh Logan,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say, but he must be able to tell from my voice that it isn’t.
‘I just want you to know something before you leave.’
‘What is it,’ I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets for God-knows what reason.
‘I want you to know that I don’t think you’re bad for me at all. I think the opposite. I think that you could be the best thing that ever happened to me.’
I can’t help it. I let out a little grunt of disbelief.
‘I know,’ he says. ‘But hear me out. You gave me a little list of all the ways you think you’ve added to the drama of my life. All the little ways you’ve caused me craziness, right?’
‘Sure.’
‘Well here’s a list of the positive things that you’ve brought to my life,’ he says.
The way he looks right now, with those wide, beautiful eyes and those soft, vulnerable lips, I want nothing more than to scoop him up and kiss him deep, to let him know that I want to be with him too. This is the most self-control I’ve ever displayed.
‘Ever since the accident,’ he says, his voice trembling. ‘I’ve had no confidence at all. I’ve let people walk over me like I’m a doormat. You saw it with Marco. He had total power over me. It made me feel like I was worthless, like I deserved to be treated badly.’
‘I know that feeling.’
‘Well since you came into my life, I’ve been getting better. Today, I stood up to Marco.’
I feel a pang of anger. ‘That piece of slime came back into the shop?’
‘He did, and I good thing too, because he spent over £300 on supplies. And he bought them at retail price. And there’s no way that he’s getting any kind of refund, ever again.
That’s impressive. I feel happy for him.
‘That’s great,’ I say, begrudgingly. ‘But you didn’t do that because of me.’
‘No,’ he says. ‘If you hadn’t shown me that I’m worth standing up for, I might never have made that move. Who knows how bad it would have got.’
‘Well I’m pleased for you.’
‘You made me feel attractive again,’ he says. ‘You made me forget my scars. You made me forget I was ever anything other than a sexual being. And it wasn’t just the sex. This is embarrassing Logan but, soon after I met you, I…’ he stammers a second, ‘I touched myself. For the first time in years. I as though I loved my body, as though something awakened in me.’
I’m stunned. He hasn’t jerked off in years? I guess the depression was worse than I thought. And now he’s finally better? And it’s because of me? I made him feel better? When I wasn’t even around? There was something beautiful about it. I thought about him, alone, gripping his cock, thinking of me, but loving himself. I feel a strange surge of pride.
‘That’s wonderful,’ I say, quietly.
‘And it’s not the end,’ he says. ‘Just wait here a second.’
He stands up and walks out of the kitchen into the rest of the house. I wait for him, trying to work out what he might be doing. I feel a growing admiration in my chest. If only I could think of some other way to solve my problem. Maybe there is some way to make this work. Maybe we could be together.
No Logan, stay strong. This is best for both of you. It’s the only way to help Dizzy, and you can’t bring Clark into that shitty, dangerous world.
He comes back into the kitchen, holding a canvas. He holds it up to me, and removes a sheet he’s been keeping over it.
My eyes widen.
The painting on the canvas is amazing.
The figure in the centre of the space is turned away from the painter. He’s naked, and painted with vigour and strength, but there is something vulnerable and feminine about the figure, too. It’s hard to explain, but the way he’s painted the skin, with this bright, soft luminescence, is just fucking gorgeous.
It’s the best painting of his that I’ve seen.
And it’s a painting of me.
It feels as though I’m looking at myself for the first time. Is this really how he sees me?
‘You’re beautiful, Logan.’ His voice is breathy but powerful. ‘You’re strong and you’re dangerous, but you’ve got a tender, vulnerable, fair heart. And that’s why I, that’s why I feel the way about you that I do.’
‘That’s how you see me?’ I say, my own voice cracking.
He nods.
‘You know, Logan,’ he says. ‘I want to know how you see me, too. I still owe you payment for your modelling. He puts the canvas down beside him. He reaches down to his waist and begins to unbutton his jeans. I know I should stop him, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want to throw caution to the wind. I want to ride this dangerous ride all the way to the end. As he slips out of his trousers and takes his top off, all I can think is that it feels right to be with him, and that he looks more stunning than ever.
‘Aren’t you going to get something to draw me with?’ he says, a playful look on his beautiful face.
Well, he’s definitely more confident than when I first met him.
‘I suppose I better had,’ I say.
‘Everything you need is in the lounge,’ he says. ‘It’s basically been my temporary studio since I got my mojo back.’
‘OK,’ I say.
‘Why don’t you get set up in there and I’ll be through in a minute?’
I walk out of the kitchen, my brain on fire with excitement. I really did come here with the intention of breaking things off with Clark, but there was no way that’s happening now. I gather some charcoal, a couple of pencils and a thick board of sketching paper, then set myself up on the easel. I’m facing toward the couch.
Maybe I could do a classic reclining nude. I’m thinking about the right way to position him when the door swings open.
He has a scrap of fabric, a dressing gown maybe, and he throws it down onto a chair nearby. Then he stops still and I look at him.
He stands there, framed in the light from the kitchen, a beautiful silhouette. I can see the outline of his body, that body I’m only just getting to know.
It’s the most ridiculous stroke of luck, the most perfect composition. But I won’t have long, the light is changing with every second that I waste.
‘Where do you want me?’ he asks.
‘You know what?’ I say. ‘I think I want you right there.’
25
CLARK
* * *
At first, I feel vulnerable. I’m fully naked, in front of a man who had been trying to break up with me.
His eyes travel up and down my body, his pencil making scratchy marks on the paper he has on the easel.
I still don’t quite know where I stand with Logan. Is he just gonna turn round in a second and say he’s leaving? That he doesn’t want to ever see me again? That he’s running off to become a crime lord somewhere?
It’s awful, but I love the roller-coaster of it all. It’s like an addiction, but for once, this particular habit doesn’t feel as though it’s going to spiral out of control. It feels good.
I know that maybe it sounds naive or just plain dumb, but I’m not worried about Logan’s so called dangerous side. I just don’t see it in him. I can’t believe that he would actually start dealing drugs.
