I walked into Steve’s house just as he was about to light up. No knocking. He looked up, match halfway to the cigarette between his lips. His chair ...as positioned by the door. Odd place for a seat, but it was his favourite. I guess so the smoke smell wasn’t in the house too much. “What the fuck do you want, kid?!” he said, barely looking up. That was always the way he addressed me. Almost like I was bothering him, but nevertheless welcome like family. I closed the half a metre of distance. .. since that day, John stopped coming to me... he was almost never home... always busy doing something else... he didn't even talk to me. I tried to, but he didn't answer more than yes or no, sometimes just a grunt... Tim, well he was the new boss in the house. He did everything to help me out in the kitchen, even cleaning the house... just to get one thing... my body.Even though it felt like he was more or less using me for pleasure, I knew that he loved me enormously... and I knew that what. More

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