When I first started camming, I wasn’t being true to myself and for the first few weeks had a bit of a battle on my hands figuring out quite where I fitted in. I tried being the alternative floppy haired emo boy, the laidback surfer dude and the cocky self-assured chav among other stereotypes (sometimes cycling through more than one ‘character’ in the space of a day), but it just wasn’t working. I realised I needed to be honest about who I was, and fully embrace the naturally quirkier side of my personality, warts and all. I will never be perfect. I can’t just sit silently like some of the other guys I know do and flex my muscles, getting paid on that alone, but what I do have to my advantage is a strong personality…
When I’m in my element I’m goofy, silly and frankly, rather a nutter. Sometimes I stumble over my words, fall off my chair or make a twat out of myself, and in all honesty? Still to this day I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time! But there are people that love that about me, I guess because it’s real and relatable. I like to chat with my viewers about all kinds of things, and genuinely enjoy getting to know them as they get to know me. You wouldn’t believe the amount of feedback I get from guys all over the world on how great it is to actually just chat with someone so openly and honestly. Quite often they’ll come to me for advice – and don’t assume it’s all about sex either! A lot of my regulars just enjoy my company and seeing me online.
Now I’m not saying you can’t play a character on cam and get away with it, but if you’re looking to be doing this full time and putting in long hours then it’s hard to keep up that facade, and like it or not, your true personality will show through. As soon as you learn to embrace that though you’ll come along leaps and bounds, I promise! Even if your true personality is that of a total bitch, I guarantee there’ll be people out there that dig it. Seriously, just roll with it!
THREE – Breaking Free
It was early February 2015 and I was still living in London with Nick. Things were bleak to say the least. On reflection, I guess the sensible thing to do would have been to just get on a train back home and cut all ties with him and his associates, but I was far too caught up in the criminal world I’d come to be a major part of, and felt trapped in the twisted routine of it all.
Plus, don’t forget, I was heavily addicted to drugs, not sure how I’d cope without them, and terrified at the prospect of my family (who I’d pretty much shut out by this point, and only kept in minimal contact with) seeing how far I’d fallen. You only had to take one look at me to suss me out – I was the living, breathing personification of a junkie in each and every sense of the word.
That’s not to mention the flat I was returning to each day was little more than a dirty unkempt drug den, with a revolving door of addicts stopping by at all hours of the night in all kinds of states to pay for their next fix. Nick had made it very clear to me one night in no uncertain terms that if he went down, I’d be going down with him due to my involvement, so we lived in constant fear of police raids and the risk of being arrested. It was an incredibly dark time for me.
When I look back at photographs from this era I barely even recognise myself. My eyes look glassy and empty, with black rings beneath them, my cheeks sunken and hollow, my skin grey and covered in pock marks and my hair lank and greasy. I weighed barely 9 stone.
Enough was enough, and I knew I needed to cut the bullshit and get back to some sense of normality. I was dicing with death with the daily cocktail of chemicals I was shooting into my bloodstream; and putting myself in serious potential danger with my escorting out-calls. Most, but not all of the clients were fairly harmless human beings, but it can be a seedy world and I was definitely taken advantage of on more than a few occasions.
A friend of mine named Jordan who I’d met in London during my time spent living with Christos, but hadn’t seen since, offered me something of a lifeline after I’d phoned him in distress one evening whilst alone in the flat, and attempted to explain as best as I could in my dysphoric state the full extent of the situation I was in.
“You need to get out of there as soon as possible,” he said to me.
“I know,” I sobbed.
I was crouched down in Nick’s bathroom, with my back up against the cold tiled wall; my feet outstretched in front of me.
“I just… I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t go back to my family like this. You don’t get it Jordan, I’m a fucking mess!”
I felt the tears welling up in my already-bloodshot eyes and soon afterwards streaming down my cheeks. Once they’d started flowing it was difficult to get them to stop. I’d been bottling things up for so long that it finally felt like such a relief to admit to the truth and talk to someone who I felt had my best interests at heart.
“Hey… It’s gonna be OK,” he reassured me. “Listen, my parents are out of town till next weekend so I’ve got the house to myself. You can have the spare bedroom if you like and get as much rest as you need until then. There’s plenty of food in too. We’ll try and get you back on your feet, and then we can think about booking you a ticket home to see your family. How does that sound?”
“Too good to be true,” I whimpered. “but… you don’t understand! I can’t just flee; I’m supposed to be holding the fort here. He’ll be back any minute now anyway!”
“Isn’t he used to you coming and going? With the escorting and everything?”
“Yes of course!” I cried, “But I never take more than an overnight bag with me. There’s a lot of my shit here and I can’t just pack my entire rucksack and take off like that. He’ll know!”
“I see,” – Jordan paused for a moment, clearly thinking things through. “Right, here’s what we’ll do. Get off the phone to me right now and start packing as much of what you need with you before he gets back. See if you can fit it all in one bag so it doesn’t look too suspicious. Maybe leave your rucksack behind if you have to. That’s replaceable. Mention to him that you’re visiting a client later and say nothing more. Do you have enough money to travel?”
“Mmhm.”
“Great, well that’s one thing covered then. Just make your way over as soon as you can. I’ll be right here waiting.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
It seemed so simple. Why hadn’t I thought of it myself? Under any normal circumstances I’d surely have been able to think on my feet enough to come up with a similar plan to get myself out of there.
But I already knew the answer. My own thoughts were by this point far too muddled up and frantic, and Jordan had the mental clarity I lacked. Plus, without him I didn’t really know who to turn to. I found it hard putting my trust in people, and most of my social circle now consisted of friends, customers or business partners of Nick’s, who I surely couldn’t count on not to rat me out. It was a stroke of luck that Jordan had the house to himself. I just had to play it cool and before I knew it I’d be on the home stretch.