The Bodyguard - Prologue

[teamzaylor]

Title: THE BODYGUARD
Chapter: Prologue
Rating: Nc-17
POV: Blade
Warnings: Language, Death, Crime
Chapter Overview: Link

About the Story: The death of their parents broke Taylor and Zac apart. Each of them went his own way of life, Taylor became a famous superstar and never thought that his profession would bring his life in danger someday. Blade (Zac) buried the past and lived his life contentedly in his dark and dirty world as a pimp. Because of some unexpected circumstances Blade got hired as Taylor's bodyguard and the brothers saw each other for the first time after almost a decade. How will they find a way to each other again after the past had put thick walls between them?

Authors Notes: Hi guys! We finally had the guts to post our very first story. We've been crazy writing about this in the past weeks. And we promoted this on our tumblr site teamzaylor every damn day. So even if we’re nervous as hell, we say, fuck it! We can do this!

To be honest, we really took our time on writing. This is our first time to write together. And as our first original story, we want to give our best for it. We are not from English speaking countries. Heck, we're even from different sides of the world, but we're glad to learn together and we are having so much fun writing the story. We hope that you enjoy reading our story as much as we enjoy writing it. We would love to hear feedback and constructive criticism about structure, pace, plot, characters, and anything else. Thanks to everyone who reads and comments, we always highly appreciate everyone's feedback! <3

We create pictures and videos for our story from time to time, which inspire us on our writing and hopefully will give you an imagination of the background and atmosphere of the story. Here's a overview of the characters in our story, the main characters will always be Taylor and Zac though.



And here it is, our first original story

THE BODYGUARD

Prologue:
                                                                                                                            
Tonight was just another night for me. Another night that would pass me by so swiftly that I would not even remember a thing. Details would just be as common as the other nights I’d spent working my ass off. It’s always the same, nothing would change. I would simply forget about this night, like all the other nights I had since forever.

While walking down the hallway that would lead me to my new customer, my eyes couldn’t help looking around to everything that I passed by. Muffled noises came out of the rooms that I passed. My dark sunglasses reflected against the dim light while my eyes searched everything to make sure it was in order.

I instinctively checked if the hotel had some safety measures that were properly installed such as hidden cameras that were placed to record all of the events that would happen that night, or if there were other things that needed for the place for it to be called a 'safe' hotel.

My eyes suddenly saw the golden number at the door on my right.

So, this is it again. I said to myself.

I felt relaxed. I was never afraid, I would never be afraid of my customers. It was my job for fucking a year and my stomach was already used to it. I could bear it. I always did.

I didn't know why I did half the things I've done, but I know this is where I belong, surrounded by my own. Ex-cons, drifters, assholes; Men unfit for mankind.

My hand already started knocking at the door before my mind processed what I was about to do. I just shrugged off my shoulders about the unnecessary observation. I would definitely meet the person, or monster, or devil or whoever inside the room, so why prolong it? I reasoned out to myself. I heard footsteps coming near the door that ditched away my train of thoughts. My eyes automatically wandered to the person that was opening the door for me.

Once I heard the sound of a sharp ticking sound from the other side of the room, I inhaled sharply and immediately plastered a fake smile on my lips. My timing was always perfect, once the doorknob ticked, I would draw a deep breath and then I would give the instant flashing smile to whoever opened the door for me. This was no exception. It was a routine, a part of my routines to be able to accomplish my nightly tasks.

“Hi!” I heard him said.

I met the eyes of the person that immediately looked up and down my frame, drooling like a real maniac that he really was. My customer for the night was probably in his early thirties. He was tall, a couple of inches taller than me. He also had a good body built indicating strength. The way his arm muscles moved while he opened the door wide open for me to enter the room could be clearly seen through his tight fitting shirt.

“Hi!” I faked a charming response before stepping my feet forward. As I felt my feet sinking into the carpet, I also felt like my soul sinking deeper into hell at the same time or if there was a place that could be deeper than hell, then that’s the place that I would surely reach with ease.

“Nice room choice.” I said as I placed my jacket on the couch. This was another part of the routine, just a very short introduction.

I saw his lips twitched and then curled for a grin. “I hate introductions, what I want is some action.” He was quick; he shoved me against the door and kissed me roughly. I was not surprised, though. So I let him kissed me and I kissed him back with the same passion. He wanted it rough, then that’s what I would give him.

His hands roamed up and down my sides while his teeth bite my lower lip. His hips uncontrollably bucked forward proudly informing me how hard he was. He was drunk. I smelled a mixture of smoke and alcohol on his breath. Another trivial experience on my nightly tasks, to smell all different kinds of smell my customers had to offer. Whether they smelled bad or good, I just had to suck it up and pretend that it was all fun and nice for them.

Another common thing on this job, customers has their own ways of pleasuring themselves. So I let him repeatedly thump my head on the door several times, this was caused by his aggressive assaults. I let him grab my semi hard erection as I tried my very best to concentrate on making it fully hard.

But even my sunglasses couldn't make his appearance more attractive, it just felt easier to me when my customers couldn't look me directly in the eye.

"Hmm wild boy... you taste good." He groaned into my mouth with his nasty smell.

And you taste so fucking bad. I added to myself.

He looked crazy while he was fumbling with the button of my shirt.

“Damn!” He grunted. It happened so fast. Before I knew it, he already ripped my shirt off!

He was working on pulling it away when my hands automatically gripped his wrists. This was going from bad to worse. I warned myself as I glared at him.

“What are you doing?” He tried to pull his hands away from my grip several times but did not succeed. Looking pissed off as if he had the right to be pissed off; he pushed my back hard on the door, trapping me as if to alarm me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you street boy, I will pay for that shred if that’s your fucking problem. I called you to give me delights and not to piss me off. I can see your eyes boy under those sunglasses. I can feel the way you look at me. So stop staring at me like you could beat me and do what you are paid to do!" He was panting after that. His heavy disgusting breaths brushed my face and that only increased my anger. Get a hold of yourself! Just one wrong move and he will get to know my sharp sense! I repeated the words over and over again in my head as I watched his nose flare.

“Calm down, you will get your fun. That's my job. But relax, we have all night.” I tried to sound calm even though every fiber of my being was already heating up.

I didn't give a shit if he was about ten years older than me; I was the king of this fucking castle and always called the shots.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. I am the customer here, remember?” He looked like a predator staring at his prey. I saw the helpless victims of that particular pair of eyes. I imagined how humiliated they’ve felt while he was fucking the hell out of them. I imagined him hurting and even killing a helpless victim. I saw him repeating it over and over and over again in my head.

I saw myself in a familiar situation; it was pure blankness at the background. Just me and him. Just me and the enemy. My eyes narrowed.

“I said, don’t you fucking stare at me like that, you fucking piece of shit!” He shoved me harder into the door, his hands reached out to my neck to wring it. I was still gripping his wrists, though.

“You fucking asked for it.” I said with gritted teeth before I kneed him in the balls.

Naturally, he stepped back grasping his balls. “You fucking asshole!”

“And you, fucking vermin scum.” I replied disparagingly.



I started fixing my shirt, it was just a shirt and you can buy another one tomorrow. I narrated inside my head.

With that thought in mind I stepped to grab my jacket to leave but he attacked me again. I had no choice. Apparently the night wasn't over yet.

He was about two feet away when the heel of my shoe touched his jaw. He was knocked off of course, that flying heel kick could knock anyone out. It is one of my specialties, a fast, sharp flying kick.

I took my never to be forgotten jacket, adjusted my sunglasses and locked the door before I left.

Let's call it a day.

I walked through the hallway and headed downstairs in the reception room. The red light was just bright enough to catch sight of the bar slut behind the counter.

"Are you already leaving Sir?"

A surprised question from the peroxide blonde bitch which was my best pick of the bunch, by the way.

Sure she was a bird-brained bimbo, but in her job, it's actually an advantage. In this kind of life, too much thinking would only gain difficulties.

"Yes, had enough fun for today Doll, I am pissing off outta here early," was my indifferent response.

She didn't wonder about my way of talking. In my line of business, it was the custom.

I went behind the counter, opened the cash drawer and grabbed a thick wad of money. Quickly, I counted them before I stowed them in my inside jacket pocket. I smiled frostily at the thought of the knocked out idiot that I left behind.

Of course I didn't steal his wallet... I want my costumers to come back! That's how it works.

I zipped up my leather jacket on my way to the exit to feel the money against my chest... You never know which bastards will cross your way in the world of pimps and prostitutes. 

"Good night, Sir." The living plastic doll held the door open for me.

I gave her a wink, although she probably couldn't see it through my dark glasses and slapped her fake ass before I stepped out in the darkness of the streets...

A short glance on my watch, 2:15 am. Los Angeles night life.

Usually, I'd pick up my black Lamborghini from the car lot but not tonight. Santiago's bar was only a few minutes' walk from the Lincoln Street.

I needed it. I needed it tonight. It would make me calm and forget the blackguards...

Santiago was a rare friend... if that term actually existed at all... but he saved my ass several times in recent years during our common Army time.

I was sort of connected with him, he also didn’t have a family anymore...

The smell of fumes and Indian food reached my nostrils as I passed several sex shops, there was no way around the hobos and hookers from this noisy surrounded skid row quarter.



My ears picked up the familiar vague sounds from afar. Ghetto music was getting louder with every step, as I passed the building, another night club.

Yo', never was a thug, just infatuated with guns, never was a gangsta, 'til I graduated to one, and got the rep of a villain, for weapon concealin', took the image of a thug, kept shit appealin', willin' to stick out my neck, for respect if it meant life or death, never live to regret what I said, when you're me, people just want to see,

if it's true, if it's you, what you say, what you do, so they feel, as part of your obligation to fulfill, when they see you on the streets, face to face, are you for real, in confrontation ain't no conversation, if you feel you're in violation,

any hesitation will get you killed, if you feel it, kill it, if you conceal it, reveal it, being reasonable will leave you full of bullets, pull it, squeeze it, till it's empty, tempt me, push me, pussies, I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze...

I'm a soldier, these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge, I'll never fall or fold up, I'm a soldier, even if my collar bone's crush or crumble, I will never slip or stumble...

Eminem's song described my way of life almost creepily accurate. I see a town full of empty people walking down the street and there’s like this killer inside me providing running nasty commentary about each person to hide what's deep inside of me.

"Fuck it." I groaned.

Rain began to fall and washed the dirty scum of society from the streets away; at least for a while...

I pulled up the collar of my jacket and tossed a few coins towards the old armless beggar who always sat at the corner, just a few meters away from Santiago's bar, like usual.

A barking Rottweiler sprung towards me, happily wagging his stumpy tail when I reached the shop window.



I patted his head before he followed me inside.

"Hey Blade I didn't expect you this early..."

Santiago's familiar Mexican accent greeted me as he limped towards me. He stroked his long dark hair back and cleaned his hands on his army trousers before we shook hands and headed directly into a back room behind an ugly yellow curtain. I always appreciated that he never talked much, and if he talked, it always had rhyme and reason.

I sat down on my usual seat of his outdated corner bench and watched his tattooed arms searching through a drawer until he pulled a silver metal box out.

"How much do you need?"

"100."

He handed me a small package with a white content and I shoved a few 20's over to him.

"Busy day?" he asked.



"You got that right." I wiped my nose with my sleeve and strewed a fine white line on the table in front of me.

"You should get a change in pace Blade, it's not healthy for you to stay alone all the time." he said, while I yanked another 20 out of my pocket.

Santiago. The only person who was allowed to give me advices... he became a father figure to me, even though he was only twelve years older than me.

"I have Bandito, that's enough society." I replied, pointing over to my dog who never let me out of his sight.

He was right; the last few months have been really tiring, physically and emotionally. I felt like I’ve lost some ground. But I also felt I’ve gained strength. I've always been under a lot of stress. I wish I could find a balanced state. I really needed a break. There’s always something, and I was getting pretty sick of it.

Because while I might not be able to control my way of life, at least I could control my attitude and right now, I was feeling grateful that things weren’t worse than they were.

What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?

Anyway! Did I mention Santiago was even the one who placed me in this fucking business after my period of service in the Army?

I bent over and used the rolled 20 as a straw. I sniffed and took a long and sharp breath through my left nasal wing.

After an accident last year, Santiago got crippled for life, but it didn't stop him to get back to work...
to work...

I was busy inhaling and welcoming the feeling of euphoria in my system.

First, it's a Saturday night thing when you feel cool like a gangster or a rockstar- just something to kill the boredom, you know? They call it a chippie, a small habit. It feels so good, you start doing it on Tuesdays... then Thursdays... then it's got you. Every wise ass punk on the block says it won't happen to them, but it does.

A few minutes must have passed without me realizing it when Santiago spoke again. "Shall I call you a cab?" His black mustache puckered up in a worried expression as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"No, better not. I don't want Bandito puking onto the seat covers." I declined, still scrunching up my nose. I stood up, avoiding to take notice of my burning eyes and the little sway that I made. Showing weakness was a luxury I just couldn't afford.

I raised a whiskey glass from the table to refresh my mind and took a long sip.

"Yuck! What kind of swill is this? Tastes like shit." I grimaced at him.

"Lemon Iced-tea." He shrugged indifferently.

I snorted scornfully and shook my head in disbelief before I turned around to put the leash at Bandito's dog collar.

"Take care soldier and think about what I've told you." Santiago's voice sounded more afar than a few minutes before and for a split of a second, I couldn't say where his hand came from which laid on my shoulder a moment later.

"You carry things too far now, Santa. Evangelize me next time." I laughed, shrugged his hand off and raised my hand for a goodbye.

With a gained feeling of strength that would probably stay until I arrived at my house, I pulled Bandito’s collar and looked around the streets and to the clubs with lights bright enough to capture the interest of people looking for short-term pleasures.

God couldn't exist in this fucking world I'm living in. He must have turned away his eyes a long time ago...

The world I know is bad, dark and dirty.
                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                                                                     next Chapter 1

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