Flustered, Jake made his way down the hall to his cell, closely trailing the officer. He thought he’d done enough mental preparation for his time in prison; his friends would congratulate him like it was a reward, but privately he’d been stressed. Stressed about his girl, about his future, about the men in here. Whilst the two former worries could wait for later, the more immediate dangers were already starting to arise.
As the boy followed his dorm’s assigned prison guard down the corridor, he felt the gaze of hundreds of eyes boring into him. He came into the building with a swagger, overconfidence oozing out of him- quickly, in the bowels of the prison, it dissipated. Suddenly he felt self conscious, hugging his frame tight for some form of comfort.
The guard ushered him into his cell, where Jake was hoping for a respite from this unnerving feeling. Out of luck, he was met with a man that somehow made him feel even more intimidated. The man stood tall and broad, Jake deciding he must’ve been at least 6’4 and carrying a hefty amount of muscle. He had a buzz cut, which seemed common among the prisoners he’d encountered so far, but this man’s was cleaner, like he had taken extra care when shaping it. His face was hidden behind a thick moustache, green eyes and full lips peeking through.
“What?” the man asked Jake in a harsh voice with an accent Jake didn’t recognise. This snapped Jake back to reality; he blushed, realising he had been taking far too long to analyse this man than what was acceptable in prison. Averting his eyes, he impulsively looked down at the floor, almost ashamed. Quickly remembering that in prison reputation was eveything, Jake took a deep breath and raised his head again with the last lick of confidence he had. He turned to his bunk, and put his small bag with his toiletries on the bottom bunk- the only bunk that didn’t seem used.
“Boy” the man stated in such a way that caused Jake to freeze. His cell mate slowly made his way to Jake’s side, grabbed the toiletry bag of his and quickly withdrew it from the bed. “That’s my fucking bed” he said as he moved his arm up the top bunk and left the toiletry bag thrown up there. Jake was now at eye level with this man’s shoulders, broad and heavy; his arm resting on the top bunk exposed his hairy armpit which strangely drew Jake’s attention. His height was always the one insecurity of his, and being in this situation and staring at this man’s armpit only amplified his embarrassment.
Tempted to talk back, but biting his tongue, Jake said simply “sorry” and went on putting his few belongings on his new bed. Still conscious of the tall brute next to him, half expecting him to fight him at any moment, the tension was thick. He could hear the deep breaths of the stranger, every breath felt on his smooth skin, only helping to unsettle him further. Keen to break the tension and assert some level of dominance, Jake turned, introduced himself and asked “do you know where I get bedsheets from?” Instantly the green eyes started scrutinising Jake, looking at him up and down, as if sizing him up for a coffin. The man opened his mouth, Jake bracing himself, he said “you get the luxuries when I know if I like you or not”.
