It had been a few days since Marvin kicked Whizzer out of his house over a single game of chess. That should've been a red flag, but..

Whizzer felt guilty. He felt like he was this irredeemable, homewrecker whore who ruined people's lives. But it wasn't his fault. Nearly a year ago, ten months, to be exact, he had met Marvin Gardens. Marvin was a married man.

Marvin was living this simple, family-man, heteronormative, traditional lifestyle. He had a wife and one son. He was a closeted gay man, and after Whizzer and him met, Marvin moved Whizzer into his house.

Whizzer was treated like a side peice. Like he was easily disposable. He made Whizzer into this.. shell of himself. Expecting him to be this almost house-wife figure.

Whizzer's routine was quite basic, it was just a big loop. He'd screw every morning, bathe, then drink tea, and get dinner ready before Marvin came home. It wasn't enjoyable, no, not at all - but he still loved Marvin with all his heart.

Whizzer was stuck with nowhere to go. Marvin had moved him into Orlando, where he knew nobody, had nowhere to go, and was all alone.

He knew nobody but his boyfriend, and now that Marvin had kicked him out, he was homeless with nothing but his suitcase full of belongings. Whizzer knocked on the front door to Marvin's house. He was so desperate, he'd do anything to make Marvin take him back.

"Marv? Can you open the door, please? I just wanna talk, babe. Please open the door, baby.."

Whizzer begged, knocking on the door. Ofcourse, he internally, subconsciously, deep down knew that Marvin was a shitty boyfriend. He knew that Marvin didn't really love him, that he saw him as nothing but a housewife he could fuck whenever he wanted, but he felt like he needed that man. Whizzer felt like he couldn't live without Marvin, he felt like he couldn't survive without that man.