Jackson F**ked Your Boyfriend

Hi, my name is Jackson.

SLUTTY GAY #1: Do you think the CBQ's are going to show up tonight?
SLUTTY GAY #2: Not if they know what's good for them.

I'm incognito.

Prisms was having their annual May Flowers party, and all of Providence was in attendance--minus my brother and his band of merry men.

I was dressed in a pulled down cap and sunglasses to avoid being noticed. I should have avoided the night altogether, but after spending so much time hidden away in a cheap motel in Warwick, I needed a night on the town.

The gays had gone crazy since Jeremy and Davis opened up the floodgates on the Wilde Blog. People were posting incriminating photos left and right, and most of the time the site crashed due to so many people logging onto it.

Needless to say, the Slutty Gays were not happy with the CBQ's for helping to air all their dirty laundry.

SLUTTY GAY #3: Like I should be embarrassed that I made out with that guy from Sesame Street Live?
SLUTTY GAY #4: Yeah, but he was still wearing the Elmo costume.
SLUTTY GAY #3: I know! Tell me that's not hot!
SLUTTY GAY #5: Hey guys, look who decided to show up.

I looked over at the door, and in they walked--Jeremy, Davis, Ritchie, Hank, Billy, and Carter.

To be honest, I missed them. Having a posse is fun.

The Slutty Gays wasted no time.

SLUTTY GAY #1: Look what the catty dragged in.
RITCHIE: Look who can make a pun. What's next? Similes? Onomatopoeia?
SLUTTY GAY #1: Eww! I'm not into that.

Slutty Gay #2 approached my brother. I felt my hair bristle--or what I would imagine bristling feels like.

SLUTTY GAY #2: You think you're clever, don't you?
JEREMY: I think I'm whimsical. I don't know about clever.
SLUTTY GAY #2: But see, your little plan didn't work, because people still think the same thing about you that they thought before.
JEREMY: Which is what?
SLUTTY GAY #2: That you're a snobby little fuck who can't get laid.

I made a fist, but stayed where I was. Davis was with Jeremy, and usually he could handle this sort of thing pretty well.

DAVIS: Why don't you say that again?
SLUTTY GAY #2: I said--

But before he could get the words out, Davis socked him in the jaw. Before the guy could get up, Davis was on top of him. Slutty Gay #3 tried pulling him off, but Ritchie kicked him the stomach. One of the other gays picked up a bottle and went to hit Davis over the head, but Hank picked him up by the back of his shirt and flung him across the bar. Jeremy was shouting at Davis to stop, but the rest of the bar was egging him on.

Finally, two of the bartenders broke it up and got Davis and most of the other guys out of the bar.

SLUTTY GAY #5: Great. Now they're banned. Maybe we can get some attractive people in here now.
JEREMY: You piece of--
BILLY: Jeremy, let's just go.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Yeah, run and hide.
JEREMY: At least we have somewhere else we can go. We don't have to hang out at bars every night of the week.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Yeah? Well...at least I have a boyfriend.

That's what did it. Not because I was pissed, but because the opportunity was just too good to pass up.

ME: Excuse me?

I took off my hat and my sunglasses. My hair may have been tussled, but that probably made me look even hotter.

Jeremy and Billy looked like they were going to fall on the floor when they saw me, but I didn't give them a chance to say anything.

ME: Your boyfriend?
SLUTTY GAY #5: Oh look, Tamera decided to show up.
ME: Did you say something about your boyfriend?
SLUTTY GAY #5: Yeah, maybe you know him. Nieno, hottest bartender in the city--
ME: Oh, I know him.

I looked around to make sure everyone was listening, and sure enough--

SLUTTY GAY #5: I'll tell him you said hi.
ME: Better yet. I'll ask him. The next time I fuck him.

Gasps all around.

SLUTTY GAY #5: What did you say?
ME: I fucked your boyfriend. Did you know that? Were you aware?
SLUTTY GAY #5: Shut up. Nobody's--
ME: I fucked him immediately upon arriving into town, but we've been meeting up ever since. So I hope you haven't been dating that long.
SLUTTY GAY #5: You're lying.
ME: He has a picture of Channing Tatum hung up over his bed. He has t-shirts flung all over his very nice oak dresser. And he has a hell of a squeaky mattress.

I heard a few people laugh. The Slutty Gays remaining looked too scared to jump in. This is what living in a gossip regime does; it makes people fear standing up for even their best friends. Luckily, I do just fine in regimes. Hell, I was raised in one.

ME: I fucked him just last week as a matter of fact.
SLUTTY GAY #5: He--
ME: Worked all week? Yeah, no. And the week before.
SLUTTY GAY #5: He was--
ME: House-sitting for you? I'm aware. Your bed doesn't squeak nearly as much as his.

The Slutty Gay looked like he was going to cry. That's my favorite part of any fight.

ME: God, he's good. Hard.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Shut up.
ME: Long.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Shut up.
ME: Sweaty.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Shut up.
ME: Dirty. Nasty. Vocal. And it falls slightly to the right...doesn't it?

Now there was applause. Jeremy even laughed a little.

ME: Your boyfriend let me do things to him you're never going to do.
SLUTTY GAY #5: We're moving in together.
ME: NEVER.
SLUTTY GAY #5: He makes me soup when I'm sick!
ME: Well, then give the victory to you. You win. You have him in a relationship. Kudos. I mea, I wouldn't date him. Would any of you?

They all yelled 'No,' but they all would. Right now, they just wanted a show.

ME: I wouldn't date him because I'm not some dumb little twink he can play mind games with and win, but that's just me.
SLUTTY GAY #5: Please stop.

I felt Billy put a hand on my shoulder.

BILLY: Jackson, that's enough.

But I wasn't done.

ME: Does he make you feel special? Does he stroke your cheek and call you beautiful? Does he validate you? Does he satisfy your Daddy issues, your gold-digging nature, and your rapidly deteriorating mental capacity? Or does he just supply the meth?
BILLY: Okay--
ME: Does he make you feel like less of a gumball whore? Twist and pull, and candy pops out? Because he won't date just anyone, right? He's picky. He doesn't just care about having a consistent sex toy when the other booty calls don't text back.
SLUTTY GAY #5: We...talk.
ME: Oh, I'm sure you two have TONS of, like, wicked good conversation.

Now for the knife.

ME: Hey! I still have his number. Maybe I should text him and see how long before he's at my door waiting to be let in.

Carter came rushing in.

CARTER: Guys, let's go. Someone called the police.

Slutty Gay #5 had tears streaming down his face. I just smiled.

ME: The next time you want to say something to my brother, you try saying it to me instead. It should be easy. We look enough alike. Before you do, though, remember this. I fucked your boyfriend. I fucked him for hours, days, whole weekends, eons--and he still sends me cute little texts asking for more.

I turned around and addressed the rest of the club. The ones who turned on the Jeremy and everyone else as soon as the going got rough.

ME: Oh, and I fucked you. And you, too. And your best friend. You, over there, I fucked your ex-boyfriend. And the guy next to you? I fucked him and all of his ex-boyfriends. They said he all sucked in bed. I fucked the guys who won't return your phone calls. I fucked your fantasies. Your wildest dreams. But remember something, I am your nightmare. Because once I've fucked you, that's it. You can say whatever you want about me, but once I've fucked you, really, what does it matter what you say? I've already won. Post that on your little blogs, assholes.

I grabbed Jeremy's arm and headed for the door with Carter and Billy right behind us. It was hard to look at my brother, so instead I just asked--

ME: Anything you want to say?

Silence.

JEREMY: What took you so long?

I'm baaaack.