Chapter 4

My father walked over to Marcel and I. His face circled around me for a second almost as though I didn't matter but landed directly on Marcel. He smiles at Marcel completely ignoring me. There is someone on my father's arm. Another man that is so young and handsome that I'm sure he must have been designed in a lab somewhere.

“Marcel Anthony,” my father said, “Pleasure to see you again. I heard your announcement from the room.”

“Nazarius Marxis VI, it's an honor as always,” Marcel replied.

Nazarius? Since when was my father's name Nazarius?

The two shook hands. You wouldn't have thought Marcel was just talking so much crap about my father a few minutes ago. My father was ignoring me. He was acting as though he didn't see me. He was acting as though I didn't fucking exist.

I could feel my body shake at that moment. The boy on my father's arm was the one looking at me though. He was a mixed race, but much darker than Marcel and I. His skin had to be a yellowish tan. He was more pretty than handsome. His eyes were this uncommon shade of green and when he looked at me the lights reflected them making his eyes look like emerald rocks.

“You know my husband,” my father stated pulling the boy up as though he was some sort of trophy, “Florian...”

“I know Florian. Very well,” Marcel stated.

The look in Marcel's eyes bothered me w hen he looked at Florian. I wondered if I was imagining it. I wondered if I was imagining the way that Marcel was staring at this beautiful “husband” of my father. The boy's face flushed with red.

“Old friends,” Florian stated.

His name matched his look. His name reminded me of some exotic flower and he looked like one. I remembered reading in my history books about someone that looked like him.

“Florian is a 5. He was able to measure way before puberty at the age of 4. Unprecedented really,” my father stated bragging.

“Absolutely,” Marcel replied with a boastful attitude, “Florian and I go...way back. I know and out.”

Marcel smiled and my father smiled back at him. The way they were talking was almost like they were throwing daggers at one another but never taking a direct hit. Marcel might as well said that he fucked Florian in every hole that Florian had. His suggestive manner was definitely clear. The Florian character blushed as though not expecting this strange turn of events.

My father wasn't backing down either from this exchange of shade with Marcel, “Well now you know him as my husband.”

He pulled Florian close almost like he was securing this trophy of his right in front of Marcel. The way they were cutting each other I could have sworn they were about to come to blows over this boy but instead their smiles just got wider and wider. I guess this was how politicians in New Jerusalem dealt with one another.

“That's lovely for you. I'd like to introduce you personally to my husband though. Marx VII. He's a six on the Kingsley scale you know.”

My father's eyebrow raised, “A six? Those are quite...rare. I thought only I and a few others were a 6's. Now how did you of all people stumble on a 6, Marcel?”

All eyes turned to me.

My father was finally staring at me.

“Don't you recognize me anymore?” I asked him.

My father stared at me. His eyes didn't even more. I had dreams about what it would be like to see my father again. I had dreams of what it would be like to see the man who abandoned me when my mother died. He measured himself of the scale and abandoned me to come to New Jersualem. I was starving that night. If it weren't for Silk and Roman finding me in a gutters of the Breeding Grounds I would have starved to death. I weighed 70 pounds when Silk lifted me up. I remembered that night. I was light as a feather. I could hardly even talk to him. All I kept doing was calling out for my father. The father that never even came.

My father's eyes cut over at me a little bit at that moment, “Should I?”

I was breathing harder and harder. I noticed Marcel grabbing onto my hand but I couldn't take it anymore. I found myself taking a step forward. I got in my father's face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING ME DAD!” I screamed at him as hard as I could, “You are just going to pretend like you don't fucking know me!”

People had turned to me. The room seemed to be looking shocked that someone was raising their voice. At this moment though I didn't care about New Jerusalem formality. All these people wearing their fake smiles and throwing their indirect jabs at one another didn't mean anything to me. This was my father. This was the man who was supposed to raise me and he was standing here pretending as though he didn't even recognize me.

“Excuse me?” Florian stated clutching onto my father as though he were clutching onto pearls. He put his hand on his own chest and seemed somewhat devastated.

“I wasn't fucking talking to you!” I replied looking back over my at dad, “How old is this boy? My age? You abandon me in the Breeding grounds to FUCK a boy that's my age? Is that why you were so fucking excited to leave.”

“Marcel, you may want to simmer down your...6,” my father replied.

Marcel had his hand on my own at that moment, “Marxis...Marx---this is not the time and this is not the place.”

“FUCK THAT!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “ I FUCKING HATE HIM!”

That was when I felt this emotion. I didn't ever feel this emotion before. I hadn't cried about my father before. Maybe that's why it all came out now. Right now I was tearing up like a child. The room looked at me like I was a wild man. The same people that were once staring at me with adoration and respect were now looking at me like I was some untamed man from the Breeding Grounds. They cleared away from me as though my madness was contagious or that I would haul off and just hit anyone close to me.

Marcel looked deeply embarrassed. I should have cared. I should have said something to him but I no words came back. Only deep sobs of regret that this man I called my father had left me.

I had returned to my childhood.

It was Doctor Cid who had to come over and literally pick me up to take me out of the room, kicking and screaming like a newborn babe.

We were back at the hotel before I was able to calm down. Cid had me in my room. He had gotten me something to drink. It was a warm drink. It must have had alcohol in it but it was still calming. Something maybe like warm wine. It fizzled my stomach and was able to sober me up. I could see him looking on a tablet scrolling through articles. He was completely quiet not really wanting to say anything, but I knew it was bad. I knew it was beyond bad what I had done. The fact that I had finally silenced Cid of all people blew my mind.

Marcel had come into the room a few minutes after. He didn't speak to me. He didn't speak to Cid. He just walked across the room. I could feel the anger in him. He sat in a chair a the opposite side of the room and lit a cigar. I hadn't even known him to smoke but the way he pulled at that cigar was as though it was the only thing keeping him sane.

“He's my father and he acted like he didn't know me,” I told Cid.

I expected Cid to explode with anger. Maybe I was thinking about my friends from back home. Maybe I was thinking about how angry Roman and Silk would have been in a situation like this. They would have exploded with anger. I knew for sure because they were always so protective of me. I knew that they hated my dad as much as I did.

“There are articles in there about what happened tonight, aren't there?” Marcel stated looking over at Cid.

“I can spin this. I know some journalists. We can fix this,” Cid replied to Marcel.

They were talking about me as though I wasn't in the room. They were talking to me as though they didn't give a damn about what I was saying.

“Why would we have to fix anything?” I replied.

Marcel shook his head and cut it at me, “He's like a newborn baby. He doesn't know anything.”

“It's my fault,” Cid replied, “I should have briefed him better.”

“Cid...FIX THIS. I will not let some grown kid with Daddy issues destroy the reputation I've worked my whole life trying to build.”

Marcel walked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. It was clear whatever progress we made as far as getting along was right back out of the window. Marcel was back to hating me and I was back to not caring. All he seemed to be talking about was himself. He didn't seem to give a damn about the fact that my father had literally just disowned me.

Cid looked over at me as though I was some sort of lost puppy. He shook his head.

“You should wait until tomorrow and apologize to Marcel,” Cid replied.

“Apologize for what? My issues with my father have nothing to do with Marcel.”

“It has everything to do with Marcel. Public image is everything. Don't you think this was all set up by your father. You clearly don't know the type of person your father ---Nazarius Marxis VI is. You don't know his reputation.”

I remembered my father from back in the day. He was kind. The way that Cid and Marcel were describing him though was almost like he was the worst kind of man. I didn't really get it. The way they looked at him really blew my goddam mind. I was shocked and confused.

“What am I missing about my father? I mean...Nazarius. Why would act like that towards me? What does he have to gain.”

“A reaction. Politics are the nastiest thing in New Jerusalem. Nazarius is smart and calculating. He probably knew you had sour feelings towards him. He wanted to make you look like an idiot in front of the entire floor. The entire city is probably wondering how Marcel can control a country if he can't even control his husband right now.”

“I'm more than just Marcel's husband.”

Cid smiled. It was a warm smile but it held this patronizing undertone almost like you would smile at a child when explaining to that child how the world really worked.

“To the Gay Agenda, you are Marcel's trophy. You are Marcel's 6. It's my fault. We'll work harder. We'll spin this while we head out on tour. Go talk to Marcel...try to smooth things over with him, will you?”

With that Cid walked out of the room.

The morning had come before I knew it. I woke up to breakfast on my nightstand. When I got up I looked over at Marcel. He was sitting at a desk across the room from the hotel.

“Marcel, can to you for a minute?”

I felt bad. I knew that I was uncivilized and that my issues with my father shouldn't have been resolved in that kind of forum. I knew that I had messed it up for Marcel. As I walked over to him I noticed him reading a tablet. It looked like the news. Marcel put the tablet down. I could see the headline. My mouth almost dropped open.

The title read, “Marcel's Monkey.”

Marcel noticed me reading it and turned it around so that I wouldn't see the title of the article he was reading.

“You need to get dressed. Natasha and Latosha went shopping for you. Everything should fit but try a few things on and make sure they do. If your new clothes don't fit I'll have them go back and start from scratch.”

“Marcel, I don't care about clothes right now. I'm trying to apologize...”

Marcel turned to me. He raised his eyebrow, “Let's just move on. We don't have a lot of time to waste and Cid wanted me to let you sleep in. We are getting on the tour shuttle in a minute?”

“Tour shuttle...”

“You'll see.”

The tour shuttle was a moving private train. As we got to the platform, I noticed Natasha and Latosha were already there waiting for us. I watched as they huddled around me, pounding make up on my face and fixing the outfit that I had on. They attempted to do the same to Marcel but he shooed them away as though more annoyed then anything.

Marcel said he wanted to move on but he definitely had his guard up around me again. He wasn't letting me in even though I had tried to apologize. At least he wasn't shooting me death stares like he did the day before. He was just ignoring me really. He walked past me on the platform and went ove to talk to a few men.

The train seemed to be floating above the city on a stand alone rail. I wondered what kind of technology could have this floating train above the city. The train was huge. It towered high into the sky bigger than any of the older trains that I'd seen in the breeding grounds. It looked new, high technology thing that blew my mind.

I was looking at the thing so much that I hadn't even noticed Cid standing behind me.

“Brilliant isn't it?” he stated.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The presidential tour shuttle,” Cid explained to me, “All the presidential hopefuls come aboard and we travel around New Jerusalem to all 22 districts in New Jerusalem campaigning and winning votes. When the train finally stops it'll be election day.”

“ father will be on this train,” Cid stated.

“Yes...he will be. Get ready. There will be photo opportunities before we get on the train. I have to go deal with a few things myself.”

Cid walked away at that time. Knowing Cid he was up to his schemes but I figured that was the kind of guy that Marcel needed in a place like this. The place definitely was getting more and more packed as time went on.

“Marxis! Marxis VII...over here! Can we have a word about the events from last night.”

I watched as journalists came over to speak to me and Natasha immediately shooed them off, “No comment. No comment please...”

They were coming more and more. Latosha told me just to put on a smile and stand there. I couldn't find Cid and as more people stared at me I realized I was getting more attention then a lot of the people on the platform waiting our baggage to be boarded on the train.

That was when I saw Marcel. He was standing across the platform. He wasn't alone. He was with Florian from the other day. I didn't see my father on the platform but he was talking to Florian. He was laughing with Florian. I watched as he put his hand on Florian's shoulder. I don't know why I got jealous at that moment. Maybe it was because Florian was so attractive. But why should I care? Marcel and I had an arranged marriage. None of it was real.

Still...I found myself fucking jealous of them interacting with one another.

“Marcel's madman.”

I turned at that moment to see a face that I hadn't seen before. He was handsome. He was brown skin with sharp eyes. He smiled at me.

“Excuse me?” I asked him.

His smile was very sharp. He was handsome. He looked maybe of some sort of Asian decent but not fully Asian. His skintone was dark but his slanted eyes made him look exotic. He squinted at me making his eyes even more narrow and trying to take me in. He was dressed like Marcel was. He had on this sharp white suit and a smile that spread across his face.

“Marcel's madman. That's what the newspapers call you.”

I sighed, “I could have sworn I was Marcel's monkey.”

He laughed at that moment, “They'll make up every name for you in the book. Just be glad they are talking about you. I'd love any sort of press really, good or bad.”

“Who are you?” I asked him.

He moved closer to me at that moment. Latosha and Natasha weren't really paying attention. They were blocking away the reporters were trying to get their photo opportunities. This exotic strange looking man leaned over to me and smiled.

He leaned uncomfortably close to me.

“Lexus Lucius.”

“Lexus like the car.”

He laughed, “They don't make that make anymore. At least not in New Jerusalem. But yes. Lexus like the car.”

“Sorry. I'm not too familiar with New Jerusalem yet.”

“I can tell,” he replied, “You smell like the Breeding Grounds.”

It was almost like a slap to the face, “Wow...”

He shook his head and smiled, “That's not a bad thing. The Breeding Grounds aren't like New Jerusalem. All stuffy and uptight. They are there. That amazing smell of's so damn...attractive...”

At that moment he leans into me. He inhales deeply. I have to admit that it is beyond sexy how it does it. He is so close to me. He has to be flirting. I can't be imagining it. The way he plants his nose on the side of my neck and takes a deep inhale drives me up a wall. His strong muscular body leans in taking me closer and closer. Before I know it he has a hand on the smalls of my back...still sniffing me in. He breathing is slow, methodical and seductive. We don't talk for a minute or two. He's just there breathing me in.

“There's my husband,” Marcel's voice travels.

I watch as Marcel leans over to me and pulls me back away from Lexus in a way that I don't expect. Even with all of Marcel's political cleverness he doesn't even put on a smile at Lexus. The most he gets out is a slight side smirk. I could feel the tension in the air at that moment.

Lexus smiles at that moment, “I was just introducing myself to your husband Marcel. He's the talk of the town and I had to see the new 6 for myself. Marcel's miracle.”

Marcel held me close, “Is that what they call him? I must be a lucky man then.”

“The luckiest. Well. I should be boarding. My campaign manager is already on the train. I'll see you on the trail Marcel, good luck. And take good care of...your miracle.”

Lexus doesn't look Marcel in the eyes. He's looking at me. He's looking at me almost like he is undressing me with his eyes at that moment. He is beyond flirting with me at that point. As he walks away his hand turns with such force that I think he is going to walk right off of the platform and fall to his death. He's graceful though and glides onto the floating train with his eyes glued on my face ignoring Marcel completely.

I notice even as he's gone Marcel is still holding onto my hands.

“Can you not do that?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Flirt with other candidates in front of my face,” Marcel replies.

“I had no idea he was another candidate. I thought he was just a nice guy?” I replied shaking my head.

Marcel took a deep breath as though trying to calm down, “His name is Lexus Lucius. He's one of the five people running for president. He's the only one that isn't married but he's a 5 on the Kingsley scale and clearly thinks selling sex is going to win him the presidency.”

“Selling sex?” I laugh.

“I'm glad you think it's so funny. That guy is the biggest whore in New Jerusalem. Can you just...not. Please?”

“Are you...jealous?” I ask him.

“Don't be stupid,” he replied.

Marcel doesn't admit it. He grabs me over and we pose for a few cameras. I notice that he isn't leaving my side again, even to go talk to that Florian guy who he clearly had “history” with. Marcel stays by my side the entire time. He holds my hands almost as though realizing that other people may be trying to get close to me.

I also have to admit that I like it. We board the train and Marcel still hasn't let go of my hand. He claims me almost as though it is real, even after the cameras stop looking at us. Maybe he forgets that he is holding my hand. I'm not sure.

I don't stop him though. Truth is I don't want it to end.

We finally meet up with Cid.

“I've secured our quarters. They are all the way on the back of the train. Follow me,” Cid explained, “Watch your step. Each section of this state of the art train is for a different candidate and their staff. The very middle of the train is the common area. That's where food will be served. We have the best chefs in all of New Jerusalem on this train for you guys so be happy. The baggage car has been emptied and all your bags will be in your individual sleeping quarters. Our first stop is in two days to the Art Territories.”

Cid guides us through this train. We pass over the bogies of the train that separates all the railroad cars. From the bogie I see air below us and I can see how main cars the train has. I count 7 in total. The car Cid is leading us is the last before the caboose which he says is where all the train workers stay. The train is spacious, beautiful and clean. As we make our way to the back Cid opens the door to the last part of the train that is sectioned off by a sliding door.

The train looks like a suite. There is a common area in the middle that is full of desks. There are people in there and they immediately start clapping for Marcel and I.

Marcel leans over, “It's Cid's staff. Just smile and wave.”

I do what Marcel says, using one hand to hold onto his and the other hand to wave to the staff. There are steps that lead to the sleepers.

Cid opened up a meeting in the room as the campaign manager. All these strange new faces seem a lot friendlier than the ones outside honestly. Plus Natasha and Latosha are there standing close to me and keeping me company. Overall I feel a lot more comfortable in this room than I did on the platform. The fact that they are all employed by Cid definitely seems to help. The staff has numerous faces and they all seem somewhat friendly.

Cid has a monitor up. It's a hologram that echoes off of the walls, “Lexus Lucius, Victoria IV, Regula Ulares and Nazarius Marxis VI are going to be our competitors for the primaries. The primary election will narrow the field of candidates before an election for office. One party and two candidates will survive through the primaries. Nazarius is the top runner and most likely will win the primary. That leaves us competing with the others for that second spot.”

Cid scrolled past Lexus Lucius relatively quickly. It made me wonder why really but I didn't think this was the forum to be asking questions. The other person Regula Ulares was a Transexual that seemed a bit overweight and a lot angry really. Victoria IV was a beauty. I wasn't sure if she was transgendered or just a lesbian, but she was drop dead gorgeous. Then there was a photo of my father standing there with his stern smile.

Cid continued bluntly, “I've prepared folders on all of the candidates. Get to know them. Keep an eye on them. Anything you notice about these people, report back to me. These people are our enemies. We'll do good to discredit them before they discredit us.”

I wasn't really well versed in politics but Cid was making this seem like a war instead of a campaign. The serious nature in his eyes kind of scared me.

My palms were sweating. What had I gotten myself into?

“Are you ok?” Marcel asked.

I hadn't noticed he was still holding my hands.

I nodded finally releasing my hand from his, “I'm just a little tired. I think I'm going to go lay down for a little while.”

Before I walked away I noticed Cid grabbing me, “Wait...”

“What is it?”

“I have secured an interview with the Art Territories,” Cid told me.

I looked at Marcel. He seemed just as surprised as I was.

“What?” I asked.

Marcel shook his head, “This isn't a good idea...he doesn't know what he's doing.”

Even though Marcel was talking down to me I had to admit he was right. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I knew I shouldn't be doing any goddam interviews.

Cid shook his head, “People want to hear from him. They want his side of the story to what happened at the brunch. I believe this may help. Some people still want to feel. This sob story about a boy being abandoned by his father. That actually might work in our favor.”

“I don't want to spread my business to all of New Jerusalem,” I replied.

“You already have. People are already spreading rumors and they will get worse if you don't address it. Your father is the top runner and is extremely popular. We can use some of that popularity. That's all I'm saying.”

Marcel crossed his arms, “This is a bad idea...”

“I'll do it.”

“What?” Marcel asked looking at me.

“I'll do it. If I have the chance to get payback on my father I'm going to do it. Whatever it takes,” I reply, “Confirm the interview. I'll tell New Jerusalem my side of the story.”


The next day passed relatively quickly and the day after that. We were making our way into the other side of the city now. The Art Territories is what they called them. Being that it took us so long to get there it really made me understand just how huge New Jerusalem was. Cid stated it wasn't a good idea for me to go out to the common area. It kind of made me nervous that maybe Marcel would be out there flirting with Florian or what not. I hated the idea of it but Cid said that I needed to focus on getting together my thoughts for that interview. We would be arriving in the Art Territories the next few days.

It was almost the middle of the night when I went to take a shower. Usually Cid would send one of his staff members in to bring me food by now.

Truth was I wasn't hungry. I was worried about this interview. I'd tell them everything. I'd tell them how I felt when my father left me the way that he left me. I would disgrace him all over the news if I could. If he wanted to pretend like he didn't know me I would make him pay for it.

I sat on in the tub. The tub in our sleeping quarters were huge and elaborate. Of course I had to share a room with Marcel as usual but they had a pull out bed in a couch that Marcel used to sleep. He still refused to sleep in the same bed as me. At least he was gentleman enough to give me the comfortable bed. I still wanted to offer the bed with him but he was always busy that by the time he usually came to bed I was knocked out.

I found myself laying in the tub putting a rag over my head.

At first I was thinking about the interview but then I started thinking about Marcel. His lips. His strong body. I remembered how he looked naked. I couldn't help but get hard. If only we could get along. If only we could actually be in this relationship for real.

I was touching myself. I was touching myself to Marcel my eyes closed. I grabbed onto the shaft of my dick. I lowered my finger into my asshole, fingering myself as I jerked my dick at the same time. I imagined it was Marcel instead of my own finger. I imagined it was him touching me, feeling me, making my body shiver next to his.

“Yess...” I muttered, “Marcel...”

I had to admit I was getting turned on. The water splashed around my naked body, tickling my nipples. I could feel my finger slide in and out of my asshole. My dick sprang out from the tub water. Our private bathroom was connected to the bedroom but my fingering was causing all kinds of splashing so maybe that's why I didn't hear the bedroom door open.

I heard someone at the bathroom door.


“Marcel is that you...” I found myself saying.

Fuck! Had he heard me calling out his name? Had he heard me moaning for him.

The person was just standing at the door silently with it open so slightly as though watching me. Almost as though he was shy. He was watching me the same way that I was watching him. I had to let him know now. I had to let him know how attracted I was to him.

No. Maybe I could show Marcel better than I can tell him.

“It's ok...” I tell Marcel, “Why don't you...join me...”

I am so desperate. I'm putting everything out on the line right now and I feel so vulnerable. But he opens the door wider and for a minute I think maybe it's going to be better.

“I just want to get along with you...” I admit.

Suddenly the door opens and I realize it's not Marcel at all!

No. It's a man dressed all in black. His face covered with a mask. He storms into the bathroom and before I react I could feel his hands around my neck choking me.

He's attempting to kill me.

I try to scream and he dunks my head into the bath water! I could my lungs fill up with that stuff, as I slowly begin to lose consciousness in the water.