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emotion any further I told him what happened with T.J and broke down in tears, a little heart broken from living in such a lie. He turned around from his massage and sincerely paused for a second thinking he was going to console me but instead he laughed at the very prospect of my notion that monogamous relationships ever existed. “Are you serious, he was only doing what every guy in the world does, you can’t hold that against him”. I replied in a lighthearted gesture “whose side are you on anyways”? His answer stuck with me for many years to come “I’m on your side which is why I’m going to save you a lot of grief with this one tip, Never expect a man to be faithful and you’ll never be let down, it’s just the way us men are genetically imprinted.” The remainder of the massage I had to pretend like I wasn’t further saddened by his response, but in fact having to act enlightened. I would never come to him for any other relationship advice, ever again. He told me I’d be fine if I just listened to my mentor. He still loved role-playing the teacher and me the pupil, like the old days before he got rich and only used to be a college professor. I finished the massage and fulfilled my sexual duties before being sent home wanting to collapse in anguish.
T.J was outside my apartment door when I got there, his mom waiting downstairs in her minivan just in case I kicked him out again. He pleaded his guilt and promised that he would never see her again, agreeing with me that she was the town slut and he screwed up big time. I let him back into my apartment and back into my life for that matter but more aware of the world I was being led into believing was of normal conduct accepted by everyone in this sick world. Jeffrey was going back to N.Y.C and told me to have a few days off before his assistant at his office would arrange an E-Ticket on a commercial flight for me to join him later in the week. I had just made loads of money from my previous trip and wanted to relax like any teenager does, so I threw a hotel party that weekend on Singer Island in Rivera Beach, inviting only a small group of friends to begin with.
The hotel room quickly filled up with a flood of teens and the pumping music was blaring. The room had a balcony overlooking the pool and the beach that became the smoker’s section. I wasn’t a real smoker at that point, preferring to have a puff of a spiffed blunt instead so I made it my rule to go outside trying to prevent holes in the carpet, but it didn’t last too long when our forbidden walls came tumbling down. Making so much money that I could supply my wild parties with an assortment of drugs like trips, ecstasy, and coke as well as an abundance of alcohol, that T.J had all the contacts for, made my fellow teens admire me. It definitely gave me a head swell, thinking here I was so young but so grown up already with all of my peers from high school looking up to me. In the wee hours of the morning we were all still going hard with our eyes

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dilated into little black diamonds. We were all having in depth conversations about life and where we would all end up when this charade was all said done. Nobody got to sleep that night as the room slowly dwindled in numbers as people were finding their way home to recover from the repercussions of drugs wearing down out of their intoxicated system.
When I flew out to N.Y.C to meet Jeffrey the next day, I was still in a horrible state. Not knowing what was wrong with me, thinking it was just a bad come down, I rushed out of the elevator and down the hall to my room, sweating profusely, to make it just in time to the toilet to throw up bile again for the uncountable time since getting off the plane. I was having intense cramps in my stomach and when I was called down to meet Jeffrey in the massage room, I had to decline for the first time. I told the housekeeper that I was feeling very ill after the flight, maybe some off food for lunch and needed to lie down for a while. Nobody came up to check on me for hours or even called. Waking up from my much-needed nap, I pulled back the expensive white sheets to find myself in a pool of my own sweat and blood. I was covered in the red stains that drenched the pants I was wearing. I had no idea what was going on, I could only focus on the dire amount of pain I was in. In between the heaves of throwing up and crying simultaneously I was able to reach the phone and called the housemaid on the intercom. I told her I needed to go to a hospital immediately and slammed the phone down only to fall back to the floor hurdled in a ball. She didn’t hesitate in calling Ghislaine who ran up to see what was wrong. Ghislaine then called Jeffrey who was in his office at the time and told him to hurry up to my level, stressing to him that it was an emergency. Thinking they really cared about me for the first time since I had known them, they came with me to the hospital with me. Now I realize I was only a liability in getting them caught and they needed to get to the doctors before I could say anything incriminating. They were suspecting the worst now and seeing he never wore a condom with me and from our previous conversations they knew I always made T.J wear one, they feared the situation at hand.
When he saw the catastrophic state I was in at that point, it was the housemaid who helped me get up and assisted me down to the car where Jo-Jo was waiting for me. He drove us to either Lennox Hill Hospital or Mount Sinai, I can’t remember, as it was so blurry in such a bad condition. Rushed in for immediate testing I was uncontrollably vomiting and in so much agony, I was given an injection to help me to subside the intense pain. A nurse came in to ask who would pay for this and although I insisted my parents insurance still covered me, Jeffrey persisted that he take care of all the medical bills and gave the nurse his information.

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