(33) Courtenay S. Gray: Exits and Entrails
When Mark told me that he was sick, I couldn’t tell up from down. The room kept spinning and spinning until I had no idea who I was. He sprung it on me during a three-course meal at a posh restaurant. This was so I wouldn’t be able to cry and make him start welling up. We would be the weird couple sobbing into their Duck a l'Orange. Imagine if a waiter came to refill our glasses, and we were just hanging on to each other, snot dripping into the beef conserve.
We discussed Mark’s impending death over steak and eggs one morning when a piece about Switzerland came on the radio. That’s when we both knew.
“I want to go. You understand, don’t you?”
I didn’t want him to go so soon, but how could I have argued?
“I do.”
***
We jumped the gun a bit on Switzerland. Even if we put both of our finances together, we wouldn’t have enough to fly out. Asking for outside help was out of the question, so I did a bit of brainstorming. Running out of ideas, I did some research on modern-day sex work. It seemed the easiest option for fast money that wouldn’t be all that diminished by taxes.
Focusing on that, I sat Mark down and told him about my plan. I thought he might be angry, but he didn’t mind. He encouraged it.
“You might meet someone new, and then he can give you the world…”
He started crying again.
“Because I can’t.”
***
I dipped my toe in the water at first, stripping off on camera. Donations came flying in, and I had £700 within three hours. It quickly progressed to more explicit content, such as filming myself performing acts that viewers had requested. I invested in two phones to keep that life and my real life separate, but just the sheer notion of having two phones felt like getting high. Anyone would get addicted to being paid for your beauty/body. Who doesn’t want to feel good about themselves?
One evening, I met up with a guy, but I felt awful afterward as Mark had to be taken to hospital. He tried to call me, but I was too busy ripping a stranger’s clothes off for money. Even though I was doing it for him, it didn’t make those moments less painful. I think it started to affect Mark, but he couldn’t say anything because it would stop his suffering. What’s worse is that I began to neglect him. The kick I got out of doing sex work took over our lives. He started drinking to cope with it all. I hated him when he was drunk. It made him aggressive and violent. That was not the Mark I knew.
***
We had a major physical fight a week before we were due to fly out to Switzerland. I shoved him into a chair, and he slapped me across the face. We ended up on the floor with him holding me down and me kicking him in the stomach. I said many things I didn’t mean, and so did he. My wrists were bruised for days, and he had to pack on my foundation to cover his bruises.
I didn’t stay after that. An old friend let me stay with him for a while, and we ended up sleeping together. I switched my phones off too, so I didn’t find out that Mark changed his flight to earlier in the week. Karlson told me he wanted to leave me a note, but he didn’t think I could take my eyes off other men long enough to read it. He wasn’t wrong, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.
***
“I may not have been by his side when he left this world, but I earned that fucking money. And, I will not apologise for it. Yes, I was selfish, pig-headed, but I didn’t let him suffer any longer than he had to. You may disagree with how I earned said money, but that’s tough shit,” I cried.
“You’re a degenerate slut, and I’ll fucking hate you for as long as I live. You were the worst thing that ever happened to him,” Karlson screamed.
Karlson had been Mark’s closest friend. He hated me from the moment we met, but I always figured it was because he hated women. I didn’t realise just how strong a bond they shared. Perhaps I just didn’t care. He didn’t hate women at all, he was afraid that I would take Mark away from him, and I did.
Courtenay S. Gray is a writer from the North of England. You'll find her work in an array of journals such as A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Misery Tourism, Expat Press, Red Fez, and many more. She will often post on her blog: www.courtenayscorner.com and on Instagram and Twitter.