Fate has given Denis beautiful, androgynous features, but also an unfortunate family situation, marred by the premature death of his parents. Drug use and a love for music are the young man’s only ways to cope with the pain, and he ends up wasting his gift, selling his body to the highest bidder, until a wealthy lover—a classical art enthusiast—seeing in him the embodiment of a beauty ideal, gives him affection and the chance at a comfortable life.
However, when he meets his true love, Andrea, the young leader of a rock band, Denis has to face those new, heartrending feelings, which might drag him back to the abyss from which he struggled to crawl out.
Denis was cold, and he didn’t seem to notice the cars speeding by beside him. He walked slowly, not thinking about anything, just staring into space. A truck narrowly missed him, nearly lifting him off the ground from being windblown. The driver honked, then put the blinkers on and pulled over about thirty yards ahead. He leaned out the window and watched Denis as he trudged on.
“Do you want to get run over? Come on, get in! Hurry!” he shouted, curt and bossy.
Denis hesitated, then shook his head no. He was there to be picked up, but not just by anyone.
“Asshole!” the guy yelled, then he pulled back out. The truck disappeared down the road.
Denis kept walking in the thin, unrelenting rain. He was so tired he felt as if his legs were moving on their own, through sheer momentum. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on that road. He didn’t have a watch, and he wasn’t able to guess how many hours had passed, but his stomach had been painfully cramping for too long. He leaned against the guardrail, hugging himself to try to find some warmth, ignoring the curious or disdainful glances that the passing drivers shot his way. Some drove by at full speed, others noticeably slowed down to take a better look at him. An Alfa Romeo, a Fiat, and a pickup sped by him, then a Porsche slowed down and stopped. Denis leaned down to peek through the window and rested his graceful fingers on the car’s polished door. The gentle expression and the kind blue eyes of the driver were reassuring, so he was glad to get in.
“Are you okay?” the man asked politely, seeing Denis shake and squeeze his livid hands between his legs, as his soaked clothes dripped all over the expensive car interior.
“I’m just cold…could you please turn up the heating? Thank you…that’s very kind of you.”
The man did it, asking, “Walking on the highway on a day like this…it’s dangerous, you know?”
Denis glanced outside the window. He was usually more outgoing with his johns, but in that moment, apart from being exhausted and not feeling much like talking, he felt a little intimidated. The Porsche, the driver’s clothes, and his classy perfume revealed his privileged background. He was clearly a wealthy man, but that wasn’t why Denis felt so awkward. He could perceive the man’s desire, and yet, he was nothing like the usual sleazy fifty-year-olds that pawed at him, drooling. The Porsche’s driver seemed a real gentleman; a kind, even caring man, and Denis was surprised by the fatherly tone of his voice.
