Lost and Found

The doctor nodded. "It's not the weight that's the issue here John. We can put you on a diet plan that'll have you right where you need to be in just a few months. We don't believe in gorging so it'll take time, but it's nothing we can't handle." The doctor scribbled some more things down on his clip board. "You have a very high metabolism. So even if you eat a lot you'll quickly burn it off--must be an athlete of some sort."

The doctor set his clipboard down turning to face John with a sigh. "You're fine. Tested you for everything from aids to chlamydia and cancer. You have nothing...except for a small case of strep throat and the flu. I'm guessing you're not eating right when you eat at all which increases your chances of getting sick. Your body can't fight off these viruses if you don't help it. The strep throat, well, maybe that couldn't be helped."

He handed John a slip of paper. "That's your prescription. We put down the generic brands of the drugs you'll need. They'll work just as well. A week at least of bed rest and you should be well enough to enter the working world. Questions, just call my office."

John nodded, thanking th Doctor before walking out and meeting Layfield in the waiting room. He was relieved that he was clean. That's what he had been most worried about. And now he had a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. The Doctor had been right though when he said he had was-well had been- an athlete. He was a gymnast... but obviously he'd given that up.

But he felt a new weight press on his shoulders. A week of bed rest. That meant no working or working, especially on the streets. Plus the fact that his apartment was less than suitable to rest in. No heat, and his hot water almost gone. He might as well sleep aside. He sighed, glancing over at John. "He said I have strep and the flu. And I'll be out of work for a week." He said quietly.

He could not afford a day off of work, let alone a week. But he knew he'd make himself sicker by working.. But he'd also get sicker by staying in his apartment. Either way, he was screwed. Whatever, John thought. He'd figure it out. He always did.

John winced. Strep and the flu? It was worse than he thought, but at least they caught it before it turned to something more serious. He nodded, standing to his feet. "We need to go by the pharmacy and pick up your meds. I was thinking of booking you a room for the week. That complex you're staying in is bloody awful. I don't see how anyone could stand to live in it. I know I smoke cigars and smoking is bad enough, but I'm convinced the mold in that building would kill you quicker than any of the cigars I smoke from time to time. Come on. Let's get out of here."

John simply nodded and followed the older man. "Thank you." He murmured quietly. He wasn't used to this... being helped out. He didn't like asking for anything, as he rather earn it or find a way to get by himself. But while he may not ask for help, he was not stubborn enough to deny help. Because he knew he needed it. And he knew staying in his apartment would probably kill him eventually. He had to admit, it would be nice to stay in a place where there was just heat alone.

John had his driver run inside the pharmacy to pick up Johnny's meds. They came complete with a bottle of liquid antibiotics, some pills, and an inhaler he was to use twice a day for the strep throat. John handed him his meds then had them dropped off at the place he was staying in. It was called the Mahaj, a branch of the Hilton only fancier. John led Johnny through the double doors and straight to the front desk. The lady wasted no time getting Johnny's room, especially since John apparently was a regular who tipped big. She handed John the keys with John tossing one at Johnny.

"Room's on the 18th floor. Enjoy your stay at the Mahaj good sir!" she said smiling politely.

John nodded. "Well son. Let's get you to your room. We're on the same floor."

John nodded, following Layfield, feeling like a lost puppy. The place was fancy... the guests looking like they were made of money, which they probably were. A few guests looked at John like he was the scum of the earth, and that's how John felt in places like this. He'd been to these hotels, when he had been rented out to a billionaires who wanted to cheat on their wives while they were in time. The staff and guests looked at him like he was a disease ridden slut when he went to his rent-outs. But he dealt with it. He had to.

John nodded politely to the staff as they walked along. He wasn't aware of the looks they were giving Johnny but if he knew, he certainly would have called quite a few of the staff out for being hypocrites. John couldn't name on two hands the number of senators who brought in sluts off the street to screw while their wives were away at charity dinners and whatnot so none of them exactly had room to talk or made foul looks their way.

The elevator dinged signaling that it was their stop. John's room was about three doors down from Johnny's--room 424 while Johnny was in room 418. "Well this is where I'll leave you for now. You should get inside and maybe order some room service. It'll be charged to your bill but since I'm paying, I don't think that'll be a problem. Get some rest son. I'll probably check on you before I leave for a few business meetings." He patted his shoulder then walked off leaving Johnny to enjoy the benefits of the rich life.

John blinked, watching him leave before going into his room. He slipped in the key card and entered. The hotel room was extravagant, a little much to what John was used to. Giant, tinted windows with a view of the New York skyline as well as the river. He walked around. The bedroom was huge, king size bed with satin and fur blankets on it. The masterbathroom equipped with a jucuzzi tub and a rain forest shower head. It was definitely much, and a little overwhelming.

John chewed his lip and decided to take a shower. He hadn't taken one in a while. He stripped and stepped under the soothing warm spray, enjoying the feel before he started giving himself a good cleaning. He cleaned off all the fluids and hand prints from all the men he's been with, being careful with the bruises on his thighs. He washed his hair, and now that the dirt was gone you could see how silky and feel how soft it really was, as well as the velvet feel of his soft skin.

When he finished, he stepped out and dried off. He slipped into a soft robe before going on the bed and ordering food. The prices were high, very high. But nonetheless, he ordered himself a steak. He hadn't had a full stomach in years, and he was looking forward to it. This might not be forever, but John would enjoy the life of luxury while it lasted.

John spent the rest of the day relaxing in his room. Well, his idea of relaxing was with his feet propped up, his laptop within reach and lots of paperwork while he yelled at people over the phone. He break around 5 or so for a quick dinner which consisted of bacon and french toast with a regular old coke to drink. Every now and then he enjoyed simple rather than fancy. It was the true southern Texan in him.

He hadn't heard from the kid all day. He knew his room number and probably knew to ring him up if he needed anything, but John pretty much made sure he had absolutely everything needed so as to not be bothered. He didn't like getting attached to people and that kid was starting to be a thorn in his side in the worst way. He was well aware that he didn't necessarily have to help him, but in his good conscience he couldn't just leave him either when he was well suited to help him.

He decided to look at this as some kind of charity case. He couldn't think of anything else to call it. He did not like the kid or rather, he didn't spend enough time with him to really know if he felt one way or the other and had no plans to either. Help the needy John...

He glanced over at his clock. It was nearing 10 pm. He decided to go knock on his door at least to say he checked on him at least once. He slipped on his slippers then left the room knocking softly at Johnny's door.

John had been in the bathroom, and despite his meds he threw up. It wasn't too bad, but still, John hated vomiting. When he returned to normal, he thought back to Layfield. John did not like being thought of as a charity case. If he wanted that, he would have been on his knees begging in the Upper East Side a long time ago. No, John would like to think this as someone helping someone else. Because they wanted to. Not because they felt they had to or because they were afraid of a little bitch called karma.

He had to admit, he felt a little attraction towards older man. John always went for older men. And despite being an asshole at times, John would go for him. But he knew Layfield wouldn't. He shook his head and wiped his mouth and walked toward the door when he heard it knock. He was surprised to see Layfield. "Ph, um.. hello." He said quietly, his voice a scratchy-soundingfrom his coughing and whatnot. He hated being sick.

John was concerned about the way Johnny sounded but he was sick so he knew he wasn't going to sound his best. "Hey Johnny. Just was coming by to make sure everything's alright. These folks who run this establishment usually do a damn good job with everything but ya never know. Everyone has an off day from time to time so I was checking to make sure you didn't have any complaints."

John studied the kid for a moment. He still looked pale, but he guessed he would look that way for the next day or two. "Well kid I would stick around but ah don't need to get sick. Just keep trying to hold food down. I'd start with soups and warm buttered bread. They got every kind of bread imaginable."

John chuckled quietly. "I'll have to try it. ANd I have no complaints. This... a thousand times better, and more, than my own place. I'm not used to this uh... kind of luxury. Haven't been in a hotel since I was a child." He chuckled softly, coughing slightly.

He sniffed and shook hi head. "I uh... I wish there was some way I can repay you. But the only thing I'm good at is sex and I don't think you want that from me, especially being as sick as I am." He chuckled, playing with a strand of his hair.

John nodded. "Good because the minute a hotel half asses their work, that means we get to stay here for the remainder of our time for free and they don't want that. At almost three grand a night, that would be a huge loss."

He studied Johnny who still looked pretty malnourished. Sure he looked good and had impeccable abs, but he was still too unhealthy for his liking not to mention John wasn't big on paying for sex or using sex for pay. Those days were long gone. He shook his head. "Johnny, I know there are a lotta rich creeps in the world but I ain't one of them--at least not no more. Sure I could take you up on the offer, but I won't. I just can't bring myself to let someone use sex as payment. It's disgusting and beneath both you and me. Don't worry about it. Just get better."

John looked up at him. "Wow... um, thank you. Again. You uh, have no idea how much this means to me. And... I know it's disgusting. And if I had money to go back to school or something I would. I really would. Sex for money... it was a last resort." He sighed.

He had been an elite gymnast before all of this. But one 'accident' ruined his life and so he had to to do the only other thing he knew how to do. Sex. It got him cash, but ruined his life. John kicked himself everyday he struggle to get food and make rent. But here he was the now. This man seemed to actually care,a nd that was something that didn't happen often to people like John. "Well, I guess I'll go rest. Thanks for checking up on me. You should get back, I don't wanna get you sick either." He chuckled slightly.

John held up his hand. "No need to explain. Did you know some of my closest friends were once doing things like that to make a living. I wonder if you know a pretty lady by the name of Karen Angle? Well, Karen, but I'm not sure what she's going by these days. Anyway, beautiful woman who used to take off her clothes for a living. She's a very classy lady but she had to do what it took to survive once. But you'd never know it unless you asked her about it. And then there's Mickie James who used to be an adult film star. Well, she's bat shit crazy these days, but she managed to break into the wrestling business. People say stripping and making porn's disgusting, but it's still an honest living. It may not be the most glamorous of jobs but yer not stealing."

He patted John's arms. Go get some rest kid. You probably won't see me at all tomorrow. I got some stuff to take care of tomorrow. Got a meeting with a building inspector. See ya kid..I mean Johnny. Sleep good."

John nodded. "Alright. I'll probably sleep most of the day tomorrow anyway. Well uh, night." He said, smiling softly. He watched Layfield walk off before went over to his bed, laying down. John had done pretty much a little bit of everything. Stripping, prostitution, pornography... he been there and done that. ANd he felt dirty for it. But maybe Layfield was right. Just because John did what he did for a living didn't mean he was a horrible or disgusting person.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. John felt horrible. Hopefully a good nights sleep in a clean room with heat would help him get better. He sighed, closing his eyes and falling into a fitful sleep.

John got up early the next morning because he had plans. A building inspector was going to check out that old apartment complex Johnny was staying in as a favor and then was gonna get back to him and his lawyers. Normally he would have let such a thing go. New York was full of old molded buildings especially on Mahattan Island. In the poorer, more underdeveloped areas, one would see many old buildings, but John had issues with this building. Not only did it reek of mold when you entered it, but people were actually living in it--old and young--both of which had no fucking business breathing in that stuff. Black mold, to put it plainly, could kill someone especially infants or people with asthma.

Meanwhile, as John sat around waiting for a call from the inspector, John decided to do a little snooping around. He decided to do a little background check on Johnny's employers Dave. He had a sneaky feeling Dave had no room to bully anyone and he was going to spend all damn day if it took it, to dig up little dirt on him. He was hoping Dave had some kind of long lost child or something. Those always made for big bargaining chips.

John slept in the next morning. Something he never got to do, considering he worked 24/7... literally. he had pretty much gave up his life for his job to earn money. Money used to never be a problem for him. He missed his gymnastics career. And if he could back to it, he would. But it was too late. He lost everything, was kicked out of his home. He'd been doing this for too long. So to have a break from the shady, seedy ring or prostitution and stripping was a relief to John. He was still stunned for all this man had done for him. John wouldn't get over it. But he knew not to question good fortune, and snuggled into the covers, staying fast asleep.

John knew many dark secrets of his boss. Like how he owned a whole ring of drugs and prostitutes. But Dave being the man he was, scared John into keep his mouth shut. "Shut up and take off your cloths. It's all you good at anyway." Dave would always say. John knew he needed to stand up for himself and get out of there... but it just wasn't that easy. Dave would look for John, even if that was a bad idea, especially since Layfield pretty much took Johnny into his care. John simply flinched in his sleep at the thought of Dave, but continued his peaceful slumber.

John fiddled around on various sites checking for Dave's profile. Dave...he could hardly find a last name let alone any information on him. He finally called up a friend who was an expert at such things and a former cop. He had acess to some of everything including personal records. It didn't take him nearly as long to dig up something on Dave. Dave Batista was suspected of smuggling drugs into the states and selling them. He was also arrested a few times for domestic violence. His rap sheet was pretty short because apparently they couldn't pin any of this stuff on him. Every undercover cop ended up dead or paid off.

John shook his head. This Dave guy was a bad seed and a guy that was only adding to the many things wrong with America. He wanted to do a little more digging but there was no time. His phone lit up and it was the inspector calling him back. As he figured, that building was in need of a big sign that read "Condemned" but that Johnny kid lived there. If they had that building torn down, he wouldn't have anywhere else to stay and neither would the others. John sighed. Always something to complicate simple matters. But hell, living on the street was probably safer than inhaling all of that mold but just to be sure, he decided he needed to bother Johnny once more.

He grabbed the phone and dialed up Johnny's room number hoping the kid would pick up. He hated to bother him but it was necessary.

John sniffled slightly as he was awaked by the rining of the phoen in his room. He sighed. He hated being sick. He couldn't afford it. But hell, it was bound to happen with the place he lived in. John considered just living on the streets or in a home. But shelters didn't take in prostitutes. No matter how bad or said John's story was, they wouldn't take them in. They only helped the ones with kids or the ones who couldn't find jobs. Apparently, working as a hooker and getting beat every night was a real job. And that John choose this life. But he didn't. And he didn't think of it as a real job. He had just considered it a way to survive.

He groaned slightly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he picked up the phone. "Hello?" He croaked out.

"Hey Johnny. Sorry to wake you but I need a little information about the people living in that apartment complex. I was wondering if you could give me a rough estimate of women and children living there. Also, do you have any family in the area? Reason I ask is because a building inspector dropped by that place today Johnny and well, it's only a matter of time before they condemn it. I'm sorry son."

John blinked, still trying to wake himself up. "Oh, um..." He started groggily, one hand rubbing his eyes. "The place isn't very big. There's about... 6 women with children. On the whole place, I'd say maybe 15 children. I know there's a few people with HIV living there. A couple junkies. I'm the only prostitute though. There's 6 families though." He said, sniffling slightly. "And no, I have no family in the area. I doubt my family really cares where I am and what I'm doing." He sighed tiredly.

John frowned on the other end. Prostitute? The kid's a prostitute? He couldn't help but frown about this but then, it wasn't exactly his business so he wasn't gonna press the issue. Instead, he focused on the fact that there were women with children living in that building and he wondered if it would just be better to move all the clean people out. Thing is that would take forever to do and was probably discrimination so he had to scratch that idea.

John sighed. This was beginning to be more trouble than it was worth. "Alright. Well the building's coming down within the next couple of days. We'll go get your things at the end of the week. Meanwhile I'll make a few calls to some shelters or something. Can't have those kids on the streets. Thanks Johnny. Sorry for waking you."

John nodded. "No problem. And I'm the one who should be thanking you." He said, running a hand through his hair. "And where exactly am I supposed to stay if the building is torn down? Shelters don't take people like me. They treat strippers like shit anyway..." he said lowly.


He hated shelters. They treated him like scum there, and the workers had violated him. He was used to it, but he just... didn't want to go back. He felt guilty that Layfield was taking all this on, but John wouldn't question it. If Layfield hadn't done this for him, John would have been dead on the streets by now.

John sighed. "Ah haven't worked all of that out yet Johnny but just rest and get better. I wouldn't leave you or anyone else on the street. It's not my style. Besides, wherever you stay will be a temporary fix. They're gonna reconstruct the building right away after they've cleaned that lot and the estimate is about a month. We'll get it worked out."

John's brain was going a mile a minute. So much needed to be done that there was no way he'd get back home anytime soon. "Just rest. I won't bother you no more today."