If only River knew what those sweet words of encouragement would one day cost him.
Although in the beginning he started a singing career to make Otávio happy, River found that he enjoyed being on stage. He loved hearing the fans screaming his name and writing music that touched their souls.
Their beginning together was fun, even though they were weaving their way into a world where they were both clueless. Otávio became River’s manager, promoter, and everything else he needed. He got gigs here and there where he’d performed a few songs he’d written along with a few modeling gigs to earn extra money.
As River’s name got around and he got more jobs, Otávio hired gig musicians to back him up. Later those guys stuck around and River went from singing alone to having a band, calling themselves the Kingdom of Extasy. Their music focused on alternative rock with a mix of new and old sounds.
Things were going great for River. He wasn’t living the high life, but he was content. He was learning and maturing in his personal and professional life. His affections for Otávio changed from admiration to something more. The first time Otávio made love to him, River fell madly in love with the man and foolishly expressed his feelings.
River scoffed at his stupidity, realizing that back then he’d given away his heart and virginity too quickly. Or what he thought was love was nothing but infatuation and not hero worship. Not only that, Otávio never once in their years together returned his affection.
They had a couple of years that were filled with wonderful bliss before Otávio showed the first crack in his perfect veneer, but like a naïve child, he ignored the red flashing lights. It was the night he and his band were the opening act for the band called The MiJai’s, a punk rock band who had millions of fans across the world.
River couldn’t believe that Otávio had gotten them such a sweet first debut playing a venue seating over one hundred thousand screaming fans. Their days of playing in low-lit bars and clubs made that night all worth it. River and his bandmates were so excited they practiced until they were exhausted.
On the night of the performance, River was so nervous he threw up three times. The moment came, and when he opened his mouth to sing, nothing came out. If it weren’t for the guys in the band, their debut would have been lost. The second the lights went down, and he got offstage, Otávio started screaming at him.
“Do you know how much fucking money I have riding on you…”
“I’m sorry. I...I was just…”
“I don’t want to hear your damn excuses. Fuck up like that again, and I’ll kick your ass.”
River had been so shocked that they’d just played at a large venue he hadn’t taken Otávio’s threat seriously. The second large venue they played at, everything that could go wrong, did. It was the night he found out how scary Otávio could be, yet he didn’t run.
“Why can’t you get your shit together?”
River glared at his lover. He was sick and tired of being yelled at for every-fucking-thing when he worked hard to perfect his performance on stage. “So, you’re blaming me for the lights going out and any damn thing that happened tonight?”
“Are you fucking talking back to me?”
“I’m not a child, Otávio.” He folded his arms over his chest and sucked his teeth.
“You better watch your damn attitude, River. I’m not in the mood for your childishness tonight.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? It was a good night; the executive seems happy and…”
“Happy! Are you fucking content with being happy? I want exceptional, not the mediocre shit show you put on tonight.”
“Then, if you think you can do a better job, get up on stage in front—” River didn’t get a chance to finish his words. He was too busy trying to pry Otávio’s large hand off his nose and mouth.
“I told you I’m not in the mood for your damn foolishness. Talk to me like that again, and I’ll fucking cut your tongue out of your mouth.”
Tears streamed down his face, and his chest burned as he struggled for breath, clawing at Otávio’s hand. His vision was getting blurry and his headache bloomed. He knew he was going to die, and sadly Otávio didn’t look as if he cared.
“My sweet puppet.” Otávio caressed his hair, then leaned forward, grazing the tip of his nose along the side of River’s tear-stained face. “I forgot how enticing fear can be.” He moaned, rubbing River’s crotch. “I blame myself for your attitude, I’ve let you get away with so many things over the years. I think it’s time I rein you in.” He bit down hard on River’s cheek, leaving a mark before removing his hand. River fell to his knees, gasping for air. Otávio grabbed River’s chin roughly, lifting his face, rubbing his thumb along the bite mark. “It’s a shame you have to cover this up.” He leaned down and kissed River on his forehead. “Do as you’re told from now on, puppet. I don’t like hurting you, but I don’t mind it.” He released River’s face and left the room to do gods knew what.
“It was a lie,” River whispered. “Everything was a fucking lie.”
Soon River went from covering one mark to covering up too many to count. Then came the wigs and contact lenses to hide the sadness in his eyes. Then he took on a new persona—the more his fame grew, the more bruises he got. He was no longer River Quejas but River Wilde, losing himself worse than any drug could have allowed.
River wasn’t sure he could blame everything on Otávio. During the days when things were good between them, he’d at least learned a few facts about what he liked in bed. But he also felt ashamed that he enjoyed being tied up and spanked, blurring the lines between abuse and pleasure.
“I can’t keep doing this to myself. I don’t think I can wait for my contract to expire; I might be dead before then.”
A tear streaked down River’s cheek as he tried to figure out what the hell to do next. He’d made a few plans like stashing away money and prepaid credit cards, but he still didn’t have a place to stay where Otávio wouldn’t find him. River jumped when there was another knock at the door. He was about to make another excuse, thinking it was Otávio coming back for him.
“River, it’s me.”
He sighed in relief when he heard Zeng Hollis’s voice. “Open the door and come out. Otávio’s gone, I waited to make sure before coming in to see you.”
River opened the door and threw himself at Zeng and let his tears flow. “I can’t take it anymore, Zee.”
“I know,” Zeng soothed.
“I need to get away,” he mumbled. “But I have nowhere to go.”
“Yeah, you do,” Zeng said to him.
River stepped out of Zeng’s embrace. “No, I don’t. No matter where I go and who I turn to, Otávio finds a way to get to them. Hell, I didn’t know if I could trust you, which was why I kept my distance from you after you joined the band.”
Zeng, or Zee to his friends, was the new drummer they’d hired a year ago after the last one, Ethan, up and quit. The group had gone through a few member changes over the years, but River had a feeling that Otávio and Ethan were sleeping together and had a falling out, which was why he quit.