Alexander

Alexander burst from the depths of the university gym's swimming pool, gasping for air as the cool, clear water cascaded over his toned physique. The bustling atmosphere of the University of California Berkeley Athletic Center surrounded him, a lively mix of athletes and fitness enthusiasts striving for their personal best.

Alexander Ward, deep in his pursuit of a Master of Art & Science (M.A.Sc.) in Classical Archaeology and Ancient History, had his sights set on earning his doctorate in the near future.

With his towel draped over his broad shoulders, he took a moment to catch his breath. Despite his dedication to academia, Alexander was also an accomplished swimmer, crossfit athlete, and martial artist, a passion he'd cultivated since high school. His athletic scholarship had paved the way for his enrollment in the prestigious Archaeological department at Berkeley.

At 5'11" (180cm) tall and weighing 185# (84kg), the 24-year-old possessed both intellect and physical prowess. After a quick rinse to rid himself of chlorine, he ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair, letting the towel absorb the moisture as he prepared to leave the pool area.

As he made his way to the locker room, the rush of post-workout endorphins filled him with a sense of calm. Sitting on the bench, he relished the temporary reprieve from the stresses of college life, until the incessant buzzing of his phone disturbed the tranquility.

Sighing heavily, Alex glanced at his smartphone to find a slew of unread messages and missed calls. "Give it up, man..." he muttered under his breath as he retrieved his belongings from the locker. Donning his tan archaeological department polo and khakis, he exited the gym, ready to face whatever awaited him outside.

Navigating the outdoor hallways of the university, Alexander made his way towards the student parking lot, his classes for the day concluded and his workout complete. With a sense of purpose, he headed towards the Berkeley Museum of Ancient History, where his role as a historian and authenticator awaited him amidst the treasures of the past.

—

Seated amidst a vast array of ancient artifacts spanning civilizations from Egypt, Rome, Greece, the Inca Empire, Persia, and beyond, Alex meticulously examined a small statuette depicting a Roman centurion. With a magnifying glass in hand, he carefully dusted off the intricate details.

"Well, it appears to be a small statue of Ares, the god of war," Alex remarked, peering through the magnifying glass. He then turned the statuette over, revealing a surprisingly modern stamp on its underside. "However," he continued, his brow furrowing, "It's from Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. Nice try. The caked on dust was a decent touch."

Tiffany, Alex's close colleague and confidante, glanced over and smirked. "Caught that, did you?" she quipped, plucking the statuette from Alex's hand and tossing it dismissively into the trash. "Not even worth selling at a grandma's yard sale," she muttered, jotting a note on her pad.

"Ward!" a commanding voice of an older woman echoed from an adjacent office, interrupting the routine of the curator's lab. "My office, now."

Alex let out an exasperated sigh, casting a resigned glance towards Tiffany. "What now?" he muttered under his breath.

"The Museum Karen strikes again," Tiffany chuckled, tapping away on her tablet.

"Ward!" The voice grew louder and more insistent, punctuating the air of the lab.

"On my way," Alex called back, pushing himself off his desk and making his way towards the source of the summons.

Entering the spacious office of the museum's curator, Alex found himself surrounded by shelves adorned with smaller artifacts, each meticulously labeled with yellow tags. "What can I do for you Dr. Girkin?", taking a seat at the imposing wooden desk, he braced himself for whatever awaited him.

"Good, now that you're here..." The older Israeli woman, clad in a crisp white lab coat, clicked away at her computer keyboard. "Ready for a trip?"

"I could use one. Where to this time?" Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Athens, Greece," she replied, handing him a tan folder. "Seems some young folks found some rather 'priceless looking artifacts' in their grandmother's attic after her passing."

"And why me? Isn't the National Greek Museum better suited for examination?" Alex asked, taking the folder and flipping through its contents.

"Yes and no," she sighed. "Yes, they are better qualified, but no, their conservator is sick with Covid and is in quarantine for at least two weeks. They would like someone there ASAP before the house goes up for sale. The head curator's a friend of mine and is cashing in a favor I owe her."

"So, drop everything I'm in the middle of and fly to Greece to evaluate some pieces in a grandma's attic?" Alex asked, scanning the pages of the folder with a hint of annoyance.

"Think of it as a last-minute trip to Greece!" she exclaimed, shrugging. "Besides, from what I hear around the water cooler, you could USE a vacation!"

Alex couldn't argue with that and sighed heavily in defeat. "At least the Agora is in Athens. Could be cool to see that in person."

"That's the spirit! I'll call finance to set up your flight. Now I suggest you head home and pack. You leave ASAP!" she said as Alex stood up with the folder in hand and left her office.

—

Walking through the parking lot of the museum, Alex carried his bag over his shoulder, car keys clutched in his hand. As he approached his car, a sense of unease washed over him upon spotting an unwanted figure.

There, leaning casually against his car, was Darrick, his exposed muscles and sculpted arms hugged tightly in a gym tank top. His shoes and pants seethed the feeling with "Spoiled Rich Jock."

"Darrick, what do you want?" Alex's voice was heavy with exasperation as he stood, glaring at the man leaning against his driver's side door.

"You don't return my calls. You don't answer my text messages. I'm starting to think you were trying to ignore me," Darrick shook his head dramatically, his expression pleading.

"What part of 'It's over Darrick, we're through' is so hard for you to understand?" Alex's arms were crossed, his annoyance palpable as he addressed his ex-boyfriend.

"I heard 'It's' and 'Darrick,'" Darrick replied, his grin widening. "And you would be correct, It's me! Darrick!" With a careless saunter, he moved closer to Alex, his tone teasing. "Only me, Darrick, can make you feel the way I do, baby." He bounced his pecs as he sauntered forwards, "And only you can make me feel, the way only you can make me feel," he whispered into Alex's ear.

Alex's annoyance deepened. "Look Darrick, we had fun, and the sex was great, but that was it!" he dodged past his ex, swiftly opening his car door to toss his bag inside. "I'm pursuing my doctorate, while you're still the same frat boy I met freshman year, living off his parents' trust fund. We are done, Darrick. We are through. We are over. I am moving on, and how many other ways do you want me to say it?" Alex's frustration boiled over as he stood behind the safety of his car door.

"Well…" Darrick's expression faltered, his tone laced with disappointment. "Well, I haven't been laid in a few days, I guess it was worth a shot," he shrugged, then flashed a manic grin. "But I'm still your biggest… Fan!" With a wink and a swagger, he turned and walked away, "You wouldn't even have any fans if it wasn't for me showing you that site!" He yelled back as he walked.

Alex shook his head in disbelief as he climbed into his car and drove back to his apartment, leaving the encounter behind him in the parking lot.

—

Entering his sleek, yet modest, one-bedroom apartment nestled not far from the museum and campus grounds, Alex tossed his keys onto the entrance table with a weary sigh. Settling into the chair before his computer, a stack of envelopes clutched in his hands, he muttered under his breath as he flipped through one bill after another.

"Bill... bill... bill..." Each invoice and statement seemed to mock him, a reminder of the financial strain he faced.

With a heavy heart, he pulled out his phone and opened his banking app, only to be greeted by a disheartening sight: a six-digit negative balance loomed beside the label "Student Loan," while his checking account held a mere pittance.

A wave of disgust and self-loathing washed over him. He knew all too well that his true calling lay in the halls of the museum, immersed in the world of ancient history. Yet, passion alone couldn't keep the creditors at bay.

Leaning forward, he powered up his monitor and webcam. With deft keystrokes, he logged into his profile on PurelyFans.com, where a flood of direct messages awaited him. As he clicked the "Go Live" button, he braced himself for the transformation that awaited.

The camera's soft glow illuminated the room as Alex shed his polo shirt, revealing a snug tank top beneath. With a practiced hand, he tousled his hair, shedding his mundane identity to embrace the persona of "A to the X" - the adult internet performer he had never envisioned becoming.

"What's up, Guys and Gals? 'A to the X' in the house! Who's ready for some chat time?!" His voice, infused with a newfound confidence, echoed through the empty apartment, signaling the start of another night's performance.