Kept Man: Firsts and Forever Stories

I took another stab at distracting myself by sitting at my desk and opening my laptop. There were a few things I needed to take care of, and first up was posting a notice on my website, which said I was unavailable until further notice. It was too soon to take down the site all together, so that would do for now. Next, I wrote a polite email and sent it to each of my regulars individually, telling them the same thing as the post and cancelling all our upcoming appointments.

Finally, I logged on to the email account I used for my job. The message from Seth the newbie sex worker was still waiting for a response. I ended up sending him my number and telling him to text me with any questions he had. Then I set up an auto-reply to respond to any incoming messages, letting potential clients know I was currently unavailable.

And that was that. In less than fifteen minutes, I’d totally dismantled the business I’d taken the better part of a decade to build.

It didn’t feel like a momentous occasion though, because if Micah got tired of me or something went wrong, I’d be right back here. I didn’t believe he’d pay me the entire amount if he decided to end our arrangement early. No matter how rich he was, no one in their right mind would shell out three hundred grand for a few days or weeks with someone who ultimately failed them.

Since Micah was on my mind, and because I wouldn’t want him catching me doing this at his house, I typed his name into a search bar and scrolled through the results. I didn’t go all the way back to his famous falling out with his brother. Instead, I wanted a glimpse of what his life had been like during the last few years.

The bar fight had been well-documented by a number of people filming it on their phones. I clicked on a clip with over two million views and chewed my lower lip as I watched it unfold. I’d imagined him raging and angry, and he did throw a glass at a wall at one point. That was what made the off-duty cop grab his arm, which resulted in Micah throwing a punch. But more than anything, he just seemed devastated as he confronted his cheating boyfriend. When he yelled, “I trusted you,” there was raw anguish in his voice.

Despite myself, I clicked on another video with over eight million views, titled “Micah Mazari Breakdown.” It turned out to be a clip from four years ago of a bunch of paparazzi following him down a dark street, with the lights from their cameras shining in his face and nearly blinding him.

He seemed to be drunk and a little disoriented, and he kept saying, “Leave me alone. Please, just go away.” Instead, they kept shoving their cameras in his face and shouting questions at him.

He tried to run to get away from them, but he tripped and fell. They circled him like vultures as he stood back up on legs that were shaking. His hands were torn up from the asphalt, and he smeared blood onto his forehead when he tried to push his hair out of his face.

He staggered a few feet, seeming utterly lost. Then he sat down on the curb, curled into himself and started sobbing. All the while, the fucking paparazzi kept filming. He raised his head at one point, and as tears streamed down his face, he yelled, “Just fucking leave me alone!” I felt sick to my stomach when some of his tormenters actually laughed at him, and of course they went right on filming.

I’d seen more than enough. I closed the laptop, then took off my glasses and wiped the tears from my eyes.

Without question, fame had come with a huge price tag for Micah. I couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to have his worst moments scrutinized, documented, and served up for public consumption. I wanted to give him the biggest hug right then, and I quickly got up and went to finish packing.

When I returned to his house, I noticed two things right away—the rest of the boxes had been moved off the porch, and the front door was wide open. I deposited my suitcases in the foyer, then locked the door behind me and called his name.

There was no response, so I made my way toward the kitchen and tried again. This time, I heard a muffled, “Oh hey, you’re back!”

A few moments later, Micah appeared in the hallway, and I said, “Hi. Do you know you left your front door open?”

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure you could get in. Sometimes I don’t hear the bell, and I didn’t want you standing outside waiting for me to figure it out.” He took something from his pocket and handed it to me. As I turned the set of keys over in my hand, he said, “I forgot to give you these before you left.”