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Paint Me Like One Of Your Other Boys
A jealous muse to a twisted artist
As I looked to the wall, quietly listening as he scratched charcoal on paper, I wondered to myself how many men had been in my place.
His fame was not the best, mostly inside of the art circle — though as an artist, no one could deny his talent. However, most people on the outside knew Johann as a God-fearing man, a respectable member of society, and married to a lovely wife with three children.
But every other flowery boy like me, those who would love to exchange a couple of dimes for an hour in the sheets, knew the kind of person he was.
Johann was multifaceted, if anything.
He could balance a life with a woman and the family, while entertaining a stable of boys in the big city, and it seemed like the most normal thing in the world.
I’d watch him leaving church on Sunday morning and shaking hands with many respectable man from high society. Their conversations would attract many people around, some of them just wanting to catch a whiff of that attractive aura coming off of him.
At times I was unsure how it was possible that he managed to get so many people attuned to him — but when I was in his presence, all alone, when all of his attention was on me, when all that he…
