Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 10
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023
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Chapter 10--Tom's Awakening
Juan was moaning pathetically at breakfast at the deli. Since he was in no condition to find his house, Chris dumped Juan, mumbling about Zack, on the sofa at Chris's place. "Here, drink this," Stella placed a tall glass with a green viscous liquid trying to crawl up the sides of the glass. "This is my sure cure for a hangover." She smiled at Juan, enjoying his discomfort.
"I'd rather have the hangover than drink this swamp muck," Juan groaned turning slightly green.
"Your choice, honey. Suffer for hours or drink this and be better within in one." She slid the glass closer to Juan and then left covering a small chuckle.
"You try it Chris," Juan pushed the glass to Chris, "If it doesn't kill you, I'll try it."
"Thanks, some friend you are." Chris laughed and shoved the glass back to Juan. "You played last night. You downed four ball busters and some leftover champagne. Time to pay the piper." Chris could barely contain his merriment. "The longer you stare are it, the more likely it will start replicating."
Juan held his nose and took a sip through the straw. He shivered from head to waste, then smiled. "After the first shock, it's not bad." He quickly downed the rest.
Stella shoved food in front of Chris and Juan, which Juan enthusiastically dug into. "Told you it would help," Stella gloated. Juan nodded with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth. Chris, lost control and started laughing viciously. "Got special stuff for smart-asses who can't sympathize with a friend." Stella growled at Chris and left.
Juan shoved the remainder of the toast into his mouth, grinning sheepishly. "I've told some friends about this place. They tried to find info about it on the web, but no luck. What is the website for this place?" Brightness was returning to Juan's eyes.
"Don't think they have one?" Chris confided to Juan.
"What, no website. This is the twenty-first century. God are they that old fashion?"
"No, likely never occurred to them."
"Be back in a bit." Juan slid out of his seat and headed toward Stan, who was talking to Benjie. "Do you like ballet?" Chris asked as Juan was starting to stand.
"No, but guess I should learn." Juan's smile broadened to Verrazano Bridge length.
"I have season tickets for two to the New York City Ballet. Want to be my date?"
"Hell yeah, strap me on your back and call me Hortensia, yeah." Juan was bouncing on his feet. "What I owe you?"
"Nothing, they were a gift from the manager of Silent Models. She heard Zack, that's where I met Zack, and me talking about ballet and how I love ballet, so she gave me season tickets. There're good seats."
"Will I need tux?"
"No, nice suit, does not need to be conservative. But a tux is great too. Depends upon how you want to impress. I know a place that might get you a good deal."
"Got one from my sister's wedding." As Juan reached the door, he blew Chris a kiss.
Chris's phone buzzed. It was a message from Chet. Chris's first thought was to delete the bastard, then a second thought, to text a scathing reply.
Chet: I was a total and complete ass the other night and want to apologize. I told you I was always a gentleman on my first date. I was a total abject cowardly heel. If you delete this message and never speak to me again, I understand. But as a token of my sincere desire to renew our friendship, I have two tickets to the Met, Wednesday, if you would be my date?
"When you told me you were in transition, I got the sudden image of me looking up after kissing those marvelous lips and seeing your junk on the nightstand. I freaked. I have a friend who is male to female, and she is an amazing person. The courage it takes to make a drastic change to be honest with yourself is inspirational to me to be who I am. Unfortunately, that night I failed to be what I am. I'm a jerk and don't deserve your friendship. But I want you to forgive and give me a chance (sad dog giphy).
Chris: You are a complete an unmitigated ass. A wise friend advised me to give you a second chance because I did sort of spring it on you. By the way, I do not leave my junk on the nightstand. It hangs in the bathroom next to my jock strap. (happy dog giphy).
Chet: I'd like 2b your friend. Wednesday 6:00 PM pick u up for dinner out. U are one amazing man, Chris, with or without attachments. (dog dancing giphy).
Chris: Date (two dogs smelling butts giphy). Chris sat back with a satisfied smile.
"I wish I had my way with women the way you do with men." Chris looked up to see Benjie sitting across from him.
"Then you would live a cursed life," Chris smiled welcome to Benjie.
"A curse I would welcome if the results ended in sex."
"Sex is not everything." Benjie frowned in disbelief. "Personality, kindness, and humor are more important. Fantastic sex with someone who is cold and cruel is not me."
"Did you ever hear from the jerk who ran out on you?"
"Date Wednesday for the Met."
"He apologized?"
"Debased and flogged himself."
"You believe it?"
"Yeah, guess so."
"Too trusting?" Benjie face turned serious. "I'd volunteer to go, just to be sure he didn't do anything crappy, but I hate opera."
"Thanks for the bail out on protecting me. Opera is not that bad: sex, infidelity, murder, insanity, sex, dragons, and ghosts. Just with music."
"It's the music, particularly the singing. Could make a dog howl. And not English"
"Maybe I will force you to listen to Tales of Hoffman. A man cursed to love women and loose them. Falls for a robot."
"Cursed...robot."
"Yup, and for a prostitute and his true love dies in his arms."
"There's singing?"
"Duh, opera...yes."
"English?"
"No French."
"I'm taking French this year. Have a paper on French culture due in three weeks. Maybe?"
"You won't be sorry."
"That's what my mother says when she wants me to drive her shopping." Benjie grinned. "I am always sorry afterwards."
Chris laughed, "If you don't like it, I will go somewhere you like."
"Deal." Benjie high-fived Chris.
"Doing anything this afternoon?"
"Not much. Need to work on my American history project due tomorrow. No clue what."
"I might be able to help. Want to accompany me to a luncheon."
"How might that help?"
"At an old house surrounded by modern. How America has changed."
"Who's bash is it?"
"Zoe and Slim Clinton."
Benjie rubbed the side of his face in thought or maybe a toothache. "Jerimiah Clinton?"
"Could be, only heard him called Slim."
"You could fall out of a tree in the middle of pig pen and land on George Clooney. You have the strangest luck to meet people who are very important and not even know it. Hell yes, I'll go."
"You're not very important, and I'm sitting with you and not George Clooney."
"Thanks for the confidence boost." Benjie mockingly shrunk into his seat.
Chris laughed, "but you are important to me." Benjie sat up straighter and beamed. "Going?"
"Yea, will be fun. I like doing things with you."
"The invite is for 1:30, so need to leave soon." Benjie said he need to clear it with Stan and left Chris alone.
Chris decided to check messages.
Sister: "still on for end of May and excited. Folks grump, which was normal. Mom sends her love." Chris sent same back
Ariel: "Saw some of the performance at Jazzabel's. Impressed." Chris leaned back and exhaled at how she was following him.
Chris: "stalking me (smile with tongue out emoji)".
Ariel: "LOL. Having a difficult time finding a caterer who would be edgy because the show's edgy. Trying to find one or two more artists because one was hedging about the show.
Chris: "might have some ideas."
Ariel: "Thought you might, knowing you. Keep me informed. Later, My supper date is here--Cedrick LOL."
Helga: "Stu's proud of you boy. Making a name for yourself already. Silent Models is very happy. Keep it that way. WTF with Tom. Toby?"
Tom appeared and slid into the both next to Chris. Chris quickly finished the text to Helga: "Tom just joined will update."
"Just finishing checking mail," Chris casually said as turned the phone screen down on the table. Chris looked at Tom with surprise and then concern. Tom's hair was uncombed and unwashed, his clothes looked like they had not been changed since he saw Tom the previous night. But it was his face that shook Chris--drawn, slack, and dark circled eyes. "You okay?"
"Don't know," Tom gave Chris a thin smile that said dragged through a knothole. "Rough night with little sleep."
"Toby getting too wild for you? Moving from twins to triples?" Chris, while concerned, was not open to sympathy.
"Yeah, way beyond triples. Into armies now, whole fucking brigades waving stout dicks at full mast." Tom was bitter and hurting. "So how is your fucking charmed life Chris. You bedazzled everyone at Jazzabel's last night. Have a four-way last night?"
"First, Tom, what I do is none of your fucking business," Chris said curtly. "I don't want to know what you and Toby do." Chris gently touched Tom's hand.
"Sorry Chris, that was uncalled for." Tom's voice cracked. Emotion swirled liked rabid dogs. "I just kicked Toby out." Chris wanted to say about time; he was a douche using you, but Chris just continued rubbing Tom's hand. "It was not pretty. We had a screaming bout at the curb as I threw stuff into a taxi." Chris remembered one of the patrons coming in and mentioning some bitch fight down the street.
"I'm sorry Tom." Chris waited for Tom to say more, if he wanted to.
"I didn't mind him sleeping with other guys. Never felt invested in a relationship with him." Tom gave a tight smile. "Must admit that the sex was usually great and varied. But..." Stella deposited coffee in front of Tom and gave Chris a concerned look. Tom nodded thanks. "But, the drugs, the cocaine, and the stealing." Tom shook his head in disbelief at Toby's actions. "But the worst was he was pimping me." Chris filched back is surprise disgust. "Yea," Tom looked steady at Chris. "Guys would pay Toby several hundred to bang me. I'm not a whore. I may be a slut, but not a whore."
"I know that," Chris carefully replied, "You are a victim." Chris was not sure that this was true, but Tom needed reassurance.
"Guys would pay Toby and then he would bring them home. Once he had them in bed, he would ask me to join. We three or four would play for a while and Toby would disappear." Tom looked at Chris for sympathy, but it was not found. "I mean I did enjoy myself and them. I can't say I didn't have fun. But damn it, Toby was making money off my ass."
"Did he offer to share the profits?" Chris asked hoping for levity.
Tom scowled, glaring at Chris ready to rip him a new orifice. The Tom's face fell so flat and worried. "I have descended so low in your opinion that you think I am capable of such."
"Why do you worry now about my opinion? Does it matter?"
"It does, very much."
"And what of your opinion of yourself?"
Tom gave a bitter laugh, "Lower than yours." Tom stared into his coffee watching the clouds of cream whirlpool around the rim of the cup. "I miss you terribly Chris, since you moved out." Chris gave Tom a warry look. "Yeah, I know--independence." Tom gave Chris an angled look. "You escaped Toby. You knew he was an ass. Why didn't you say something, warned me?"
"Would you have listened? Besides you have known Toby far longer than I."
"No. I liked him, trusted him." Tom stirred his coffee trying to create a tornado.
"How did you find out about Toby's side business?"
"You mean how he was peddling my ass?" Chris did not reply. "I heard the trick, that is what he was, just a trick, give Toby an extra hundred because he got to fuck me."
"Fucking you should be worth at least an extra two hundred."
That comment earned a growl, but Tom relaxed and laughed soft and sardonic, "I always thought it was worth a cool grand myself. My ass is mighty talented."
"If you liked it maybe I should pimp for you. I'd at least do fifty/fifty."
Tom started laughing at the edge of hysterical. "Damn no sixty/forty since it is my ass on the bed." Tom's laugh became lighter.
"Who said it would all be on a bed. Back of cars, vans, pick-up trucks. Endless possibilities so why limit location."
"We could get a van, like mobile dog grooms. Tom's Ass Service: Where only the elite park their wieners." That had both Chris and Tom laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" Juan asked as he slid in the opposite side of the booth.
"We are laughing about how fucked up life can be." Chris commented while wiping his eyes.
"Excellent reason to laugh," Juan said with a bit of a contagious laugh. ""My granny always said that the worse life gets the louder you should laugh, just to let the bastards know they are not winning."
"Smart granny." Tom nodded to Juan. "Sound like something Helga would say." Chris nodded agreement.
"This a Toby thing?" Juan gestured at Tom.
"Yeah, fucking asshole." Tom agreed.
"No argument from me." Juan shoved his cup over so Benjie could fill it. "Always thought you and Chris were a better pair. But who am I to say."
"Maybe we are, but I thought you and Chris were an item." Tom looked at Juan confused by the conversation.
Both Chris and Juan laughed and replied almost simultaneously "No," and "Hell, no"
"We tried it once and decided we were better friends than lovers." Chris explained.
"I mean, I'm a computer geek and he's an international model." Juan mugged.
"He found himself a hottie." Chris gave Juan a ratting-on-you grin. Juan blushed. "Ballet dance with the New York Ballet Company. Zack. Sweet, gorgeous, and very flexible." Juan blushed more. Chris checked his phone for time. "Sorry but I'm invited to Zoe and Slim's for lunch today. Want to come Juan?"
"Sorry, man, but need to go home and gloat." Juan turned to Tom. "My brother, who's gay, thinks I'm a prude and need to lighten up. Last Sunday the pics with Chris and Andy started him doubting his assessment. After last night at Jazzabel's Place, I'm sure Chris saw some of my brother's friends there with cameras, and now hot Zack, who is picking me up for a date Thursday. I will be golden."
"Platinum, dear boy, platinum. You want to come Tom?" Chris gave a shove to Tom to move.
"No, I need to tidy my place up. Evicting vermin is destructive." Tom slid out with a small laugh. "I, I know that you are at Silent Models tomorrow. Can I see you tomorrow night. Take you to supper. Need to discuss stuff Stu wants." Chris raised his eyebrow. "And I want to make up for being such an ass since we got to New York."
"Sure, I would enjoy that, very much." Chris gave Tom a quick kiss on the cheek.
Once Tom was out the door, Juan leaned toward Chris and whispered, "Toby?"
"Yeah, kicked his sorry ass out to the street with the rest of the garbage." Chris loudly laughed
"Hope dogs pissed on him while he sat there. No wait, don't want to dignify dog piss on him." Juan laughed back. "Really need to run man, sorry I'm bailing."
Tom stared at his ravished apartment. Lamps lay sideways like drunks on Sunday morning. The leather sofa that took four men to move lay upended against the dining room table that looked like a bug dead on its back. The kitchen would require extreme caution as a hazard area because of all the fragments of glass and shards of pottery. But this was nothing compared to the bedroom. Clothes, bedding, towels, lamps, and furniture cavorted in a wild tarantella. Tom leaned against the king-size mattress leaning cavalierly against the closet door, which had flung itself in a fit of passion against the amour. He slid to the floor, looking in disbelief, and laughed.
Tom `s simple request to vacate the premise immediately had caused superstorm Toby. Tom rationally explained the issues of Toby bringing strange men to the apartment when Tom was not there. He coolly pointed out that he, Tom, paid the rent and all the bills, Tom calmly elucidated Toby's drug problem. He reminded Toby that he stole money, jewelry, electronics and anything with value. And finally, cold as an IRS agent stated that Toby was pimping him.
Toby was nonplussed, proclaiming his love for Tom, that everything was Tom's fault, that Tom was a slut and perv. That Chris had corrupted Tom. With each declaration items flew, but a few small valuables slipped into the bag as Toby packed. Neighbors had called the police when the eviction grow loud and fractious. The police met Toby outside Tom's door; it was the two officers that took Tom's statement.
"Good morning gentlemen," Officer O'Neil courteously said. "Your neighbors complained about the noise of your altercation."
Toby immediately spoke, "This asshole is trying to kick me out of my apartment,"
Donaldson stepped forward, and pointed at Tom. "Come with me for a statement."
O'Neil pointed at Toby, "You stay with me and tell me what is going on."
After thirty minutes Donaldson returned with Tom as O'Neil was finishing a statement from Toby. O'Neil made Toby and Tom stand on opposite sides of the living room. Toby glared at Tom, fury and rage barely contained while the officers stepped into the hall to confer. When they returned, Officer O'Neil looked at Toby. "It seems that you need to leave this premise immediately since you are not a tenant here."
"That is bull crap," Toby crossed his arms and stared down O'Neil. "I have as much right here as he does." Toby flung a hand toward Tom.
"I am sorry, sir," Donaldson said with less than sincere politeness, "You are not on the lease as a tenant."
"I pay half the rent and expenses." Toby bullied.
"May I see evidence of payments?"
"I paid cash. That's what he wanted, hide income from Uncle Sam."
"I take it that you are stupid," O'Neil flatly said.
"Smarter than you," Toby shot back. "he deals cocaine." Toby smuggly smiled at Tom. Tom almost charged across the room to pummel Toby, but Donaldson gave a stern look at Tom, which held a hint of a smile.
"Mr. Greenwood claims that you have some of his property on you that you are trying to take."
"I don't take nothing that ain't mine." Both anger and fear played across his face.
"We have a description of these items with evidence of ownership." O'Neil was tired of Toby's bluster. "We have evidence of a crime and can legally search you for stolen property." He smiled a particularly dare me smile, "If we were to find other interesting things on you, you will be charges."
Toby's face fell in panic, "Fuck you," He reached into his bag and threw some jewelry at Tom. A ring hit Tom in the chest.
Officer Donaldson, picked up the items and laid them on the dining room table. "Is this everything?" he asked Tom.
Tom looked over the pile. "No, Officer, There are two gold chains that were in my possession as of last night when I put them in the jewelry box. One is a herringbone and the other is a rope with diamond pendant: blue, yellow and pink around a white center diamond. You saw the pictures and appraisals." Tom smiled sweetly at Toby; the smile said don't fuck with me. "I am missing other items, which I will include in my statement. Perhaps some pawn broker will have them."
"Possible, but not likely." O'Neil said with a shrug. "I would contact your insurance company. The police report will be available in two days." O'Neil turned to Toby, who was at the entrance to the apartment. Donaldson had moved outside the door into the hallway. "Do you have the said items in your possession." It was not a question or a statement. It was return them now.
Toby just lifted his shoulders in a who knows. He smirked at O'Neill, "you to touch me and I'll claim police brutality." Toby arrogantly crossed into the hall and saw Donaldson blocking further exit.
Donaldson gave a got-you-sucker smile and pointed to the camera on his shoulder. "If you would put your hands on the wall and spread your legs, I need to search you for probable cause of carrying illegal drugs." Toby reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and flung the two necklaces into the apartment. Donaldson still did not allow Toby to leave.
"Mr. Greenwood," O'Neil gave a satisfied smile at Toby, "since the said missing property was removed from your dwelling without your permission, would you like to file charges of grand theft?" O'Neil still looking at Toby. "If you had returned them while inside the apartment, it would not have been theft."
"No Officer, I do not wish to press charges." Tom looked at Toby, hurt and betrayed. Toby stood tall and cocky, "Can I change my mind after I have done a full inventory?"
"Yes," O'Neil replied, "but it is best now when we have the evidence, but it is your decision."
"Not at this time."
"I am not done with you Tommy. You will fucking regret this." Toby's cursing could be heard down the hall and then outside on the street.
Officer Donaldson put a hand on Tom's shoulder, "How'd you ever get involved with that asshole?"
"Work together, He's funny, charming, and..." Tom could not think of a third reason.
"Great fuck?" O'Neil added.
"Yeah that." Tom up ended a kitchen chair and sat. He started to shake as everything sank in.
"Why don't you get out for a little." O'Neil said, "get some distance and then clean the mess."
"Yeah, Chris may still be at Stella's Deli. I'll have some breakfast with him." Tom smiled at the thought.
"Reminds me," Donaldson said. "I need to text a friend and apologize.".
That was Tom's fucking morning. Tom continued to laugh. Might as well start at the door and move forward. The furniture, except for a few scratch and dents was still solid. The same could not be said for the lamps, the place would be dark tonight. The large mirror over the sofa did not break but it cracked like day old makeup. He was glad he had a Macy's discount.
In the kitchen only two wine glasses survived. Silverware was shoved in the garbage disposal. Frying pans peeked out of the microwave like frightened children. Tom would need a new set of plates. Fortunately, Toby did not find Tom's grandmother's china. Its destruction would have been a heavy loss, not only because it was a Regency set for 20 but also because he loved his grandmother, who, before she died, specifically gave it to Tom as a future wedding gift, even though she knew he was gay. She was a romantic.
The bedroom was more refolding and returning to linen shelves. The bathroom mirror had "Fuck U" written in soap. Hair and grooming products dripped from walls and ceiling like last week's crepe paper birthday. The last task was the jewelry box in the safe, which Tom never locked, but now would. Missing was his great-great grandfather's garnet ring. Tom never wore it because the stone was massive and the setting heavy gold. Also missing was a diamond broach given to his great-grandmother by Princess Alexandra of Denmark. Tom never understood the relationship of his great grandmother to the royal house. The green diamond ring given to him by his great aunt was also missing as were two other rings. Still in the box was the ring that Chris gave him. He took it out and looked closely at the workmanship and the feel of the ring. It was an exquisite but simple ring, which is likely why it was still in the box. He did not remember why he removed the ring, probably at the request of Toby. He slipped the ring on the ring finger of his right hand. A slow smile spread across his face as he heard the rustle of leaves in wind and the distant song of birds. Rain and earth and sun settled into his mind. Chris had given him his childhood in Greenwood Forest; Chris had given him back innocence. Tom sat on the bed, still disarrayed, and cried. He had let Chris down; he had forced Chris out of his life. Why? In Chicago, things were right between them. Things were comfortable, companionable, and clear. How did all that change once he returned to New York. Tom gasp as he realized that he abandoned Chris at the door to go fuck Toby. Chris should hate him. Tom's dick led regardless of whom it might hurt. No wonder Chris moved out and has remained distant. Tom felt overwhelmed as he realized he created that distance. Why did Chris even speak to him? He was a crap person. Helga told him Toby was crap and so did Ariel; why didn't he listen?
Tom rolled the ring around his finger determined to win at least Chris's friendship back. But first he had to be worthy of looking himself in the face and liking what he sees. At Slim and Zoe's Easter gathering, Tom had worn the shirt with a naked Chris specifically to embarrass Chris because Chris left him. Tom understood that it was his ego that was bruised and so he wanted to hurt Chris. But Chris was not hurt; he turned the jest back to Tom. But Chris was hurt. Tom shivered with remorse. Tom saw it in Chris's eyes, the slight stiffening of the back. The lips tight from the betrayal. A glint from a random reflect light had Tom digging to the back of the safe to find his great-grandmother's broach; Toby had not taken this.
Tom studied the design of intertwining gold braids around a large center diamond. As Tom examined the back, he saw in very small script "O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." Tom closed his hand around the broach and promised to repair the damage between Chris and him. Tom realized that he had lost what had started in Chicago. That could never come back, but friendship was what he could hope for now. He could start now. Tom retrieved his phone from under the debris of sheets and pillows and called--one dozen yellow roses for Chris Wentworth.