Small Time Porn Part Two: Meeting the Models

Kilian Melloy READ TIME: 6 MIN.

Inside The Model House

Animated conversation filled the car leaving the airport; new acquaintances have a great deal to say in a short time. The ride took them on congested arteries that probably made sense to the locals but tore away any semblance of orientation to the newcomer.

Mile after mile strip malls filled with subsistence businesses were broken only by traffic signals. Turning left into a side street brought a distinct comfort with its quiet. The quiet only served to set loose a queasy stomach in anticipation of what was today's final destination.

Rounding the corner into the cul-de-sac, his eye roamed first up one side of the street then back down the other. Finally, the end of a long day of travel was coming to a close as he rode along to his new home. A new home sans everything and everyone he has ever known, exchanged for the hope and dream of a new life.

Inside the place appeared in complete disarray. Uncounted dogs barked incessantly. The living room contained two beds, a TV and the debris of two young men living out of suitcases. Food packages, soda containers, and dishes covered most surfaces of the kitchen.

A family room opening onto a pool area was the most welcoming of the rooms. Two couches filled a corner, with a broad square table in front of them. A big old projection television stood near one wall visible from any seat on the couch. Tom Moran with Orlando Models rattled off the house rules.

"Pick a place to sleep, one that is not already claimed. There may be a bureau for your things, or just leave them in your suitcase. No alcohol is permitted, none, ever. You bring it here you are out. No drugs are permitted, none, ever. You bring any here you are out. We don't shoot in the house and you don't bring customers here.

"We grocery shop once in a while and share the cooking and cleaning. I buy the food. You can contribute. Laundry gets done when someone needs it, the load usually contains something of everyone's; you'll find it dumped on the couch to take what's yours.

"We live quietly. The neighbors are aware of who we are and what we do, and many are unhappy or overly sensitive to that. Most of the other boys don't have a car either, so there is a good deal of walking. When you walk through the neighborhood be quiet, especially at night, and especially if you have been drinking. Always be respectful to any neighbors you meet; we need all the good will we can get."

Depending on the shooting schedule the first scene might be a week or ten days away. Time in between is hanging out with the other boys, getting oriented and setting up an escort profile.

Several years ago several law enforcement agencies raided the house after keeping it under surveillance for some time. They didn't know what they were looking for, so they focused on child pornography and drugs. Finding none of either, or anything else that interested them, they have limited their harassment since. Sometimes they even give the porn actors a ride at night.

Tom led the way through the rest of the house, showing off his bedroom and two others. His was off limits with a solid door and secure lock. The other two each contained one queen size bed along with miscellaneous furniture. Two boys shared each bed.

With his job done, Tom retired to his room leaving the new boy to the others. They proceeded to orient him to the real rhythms of living in a model house. The de facto leader of the band of young men living in a suburban Florida house acting in gay porn movies took the new arrival aside, led him to his room and performed the real orientation. Each new arrival finds a certain comforting commonality there.

Tom and the reigning senior porn actor who has held on for several years in an environment where most last a few months share commonalities. They are, with the passing of years, partners, non sexual partners, even best friends, no matter their differences.

Information is held close, their location a difficult detail to be entrusted with; a certain suspicion holds their eyes askance, their trust in reserve, their reticence to openly communicate readily apparent. Like they have something to hide, though what they do is openly available to anyone with a computer and Internet access.

The model house is a conundrum of noise and confusion delivering a certain sense of comfort to the new transplant as no matter the state of the place it serves as a refuge from a past life now left behind.

Meet Zakk Matthews - Porn Actor

Life grinds away slowly in religious Eastern Oregon homes, especially when a kid has the big secret. When Mom listens intently to Rush Limbaugh, all the while silently nodding affirmatively, the kid knows this is not an announcement that will go over well.

A sister outed Justin to his parents after her confessional priest demanded she do so. Dad kept it simple: "Get out, and stay out until you are no longer queer."

Justin, whose porn name is Zakk Matthews, originally hails from Oregon, and lived for a time in Eastern Washington mostly as a first trial run away from home and family and an anonymous place to explore his newly found sexual orientation.

Portland lured the now 25-year-old for college, and he worked as a chef before moving to Boise in hopes of reconnecting with family. Thankfully, gays are not limited to families of blood.

Justin's family remained as bitter at his homosexuality as the day they slammed the door of the family home on him and the Catholic Church excommunicated him.

Justin first had sex, and that with a woman, while in college. He was a late bloomer. A pair of male twins provided the first gay sexual experience, severing his interest in women and propelling Justin faster along the road to understanding himself.

Like most gay men, Justin is in search of his life partner, though there is a certain disconnect between escorting and coming home to dinner.

Severance from family is often the most traumatic result of coming out. The first Christmas after his expulsion Justin returned to the family home, gifts in hand, only to be met at the door, relieved of his burden, and directed to the back yard where he could see his father.

An elder brother, married with kids, allows visits as long as "you don't look gay." In all his blood family, only his grandparents have embraced him.

Being alone, broke on the street, is by no means a uniquely gay condition, though far too many gay youth do their penance there. In Boise he encountered an accepting community, found a cause in Add The Words Idaho, and employment in his chosen profession. Life in Boise was comfortable in those three years, though he did not find contentment or fulfillment.

Tom Moran, owner and manager of Orlando Models, made contact with him. Over the course of a year they chatted periodically via social media sites. Tom was ready for Justin much faster than Justin was ready to upturn his life.

Most life-changing decisions are helped along by external forces. Unemployment, lease renewal approaching and a little cash in hand helped Justin to commit to his decision to leave all he knew for a world he could only imagine.

Committing and acting in the same week leaves little time for reconsideration, so the decision to become a porn actor, model and escort brought only mild apprehension, a certain excitement and a terrible case of butterflies in the stomach.

There was no question about the decision, and he would do the same again.

Those butterflies took him all the way to the airport, where he spent his last twenty-five dollars checking one of his two bags that now contained his entire life. The flight took him from Boise to Phoenix, and then a great leap across America to Orlando, where Tom met him at the curb and they drove to the model house. In that car trip those butterflies yielded to freeing excitement tinged only mildly by lingering apprehension.

That lingering apprehension was centered on the last stop, the house; fully committed now, he could only wait for the last corner to be turned to get his first sight of his new home.

Disappointment was the first impression. Though it looked OK from the street, the house inside was a wreck and disorganized. That first night Justin slept in the living room, and then he moved into a room with another boy. Now they share a bed.

Life in the model house can be crowded, noisy, and disorganized. And, at the very same time provide an environment conducive to merging the mutual commonalities of disparate though similarly focused young gay men.


by Kilian Melloy , EDGE Staff Reporter

Kilian Melloy serves as EDGE Media Network's Associate Arts Editor and Staff Contributor. His professional memberships include the National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association, the Boston Online Film Critics Association, The Gay and Lesbian Entertainment Critics Association, and the Boston Theater Critics Association's Elliot Norton Awards Committee.

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