This story has adult situations; if you are under the age of 18 or 21 in your area you should not be reading this. The author will not be held responsible for corrupting your young and impressionable minds.
This is a work of fiction, if you are diluted enough to think I know any of the famous characters in this story you probably don't read the disclaimers anyway.
Author's Note: Hi everyone, I just want to thank those who emailed me and told me what they think. It helps my motivation to get responses. Also you should check out a few other stories on the archive; 'My Big Break', 'Lance in Shining Amour', 'Running Thoughts'(Great stories). Nick and the Alto's (off to a good start.)
Basso Profundo 5
Previously
"You live with Madeline?"
"No, not really. Only when we are traveling to a few of my places, like Paris, Tokyo, when we are at home we both have different houses."
There was a small pause in the conversation.
"It's just like your managers and assistants who travel with you guys, Madeline works for me I mean she's my friend too, ya know."
"Okay."
"What's wrong?"
"I just feel like suddenly I don't know you. There is so much I don't know, you have a lot of secrets."
Now on with the show...
We walked into the apartment.
"James...Lance...James, god sometimes that can get so confusing. We've only know each other for four months, we've only been dating for a little over a month, of course there is still lots you don't know about me."
"I just don't like secrets."
"Lance, I promise you there isn't anything I won't tell you, but it's not like I'VE got a biography you can read. I just sort of wait till it comes up in conversation."
The phone rings.
"Listen, I have to take this call, if the office bothered to track me down here than it must be important." I got up to take the call. "But while I'm gone I want you to listen to a song. Okay?"
"Sure babe."
I walked over to the stereo and popped in Billy Joel's 'Storm Front' to song ten; then I walked into my office to take the call. {This song is the creation of Billy Joel, he retains all rights}
'In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along.
I speak to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self-defense
And every time I've held a rose
It seems I've only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose.
But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break
And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows.
So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break.
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows.'
I finished my call and came back into the room, as the song was finishing. I just stood and watched Lance for a second before grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge. I sat down on the couch across from Lance, "do you remember when we met?"
"Yeah, it was at that launch party Jive threw a few months ago."
"Uh huh, and where was I when you first noticed me?" I asked.
"You were standing alone on the balcony."
"Where was I when you decided to come over and talk to me?"
"You had just briefly spoken with Clive, and you were sitting alone again." A small hint of a smile crept across Lance's face. "I'm sensing a pattern here."
"Yup." I paused briefly to collect my thoughts while Lance just sat there waiting patiently for me to continue. "It's not that I don't like people, it's just that I don't trust them. Having the type of money I that have, it's hard to know why people like you."
"I have the same problem. Do the people I meet like me or 'The Stage Version of me'?"
"Exactly, now in my head and in my heart I know you like me for who I am, but it is hard to let down my defenses. I've had to keep people at arms length since I was fourteen and my parents died and left me a rather large chunk of money..."
"How did your parents die?"
I took another sip of water. "They died in a car crash in Vienna. My uncle was appointed executor, with a few different people taking care of different people taking care of different companies, until I turned eighteen. I was given one million dollars yearly to do with what I pleased. God I know that sounds so blasé, I don't mean to make it sound like that isn't a lot of money. Anyway, it would be an understatement to say that I didn't trust my uncle. I knew he would screw me over the first chance he got. So I hired Madeline, took the million dollars and hired Lawyers and had myself declared an emancipated minor, kicked my uncle out and took over the fortune."
I paused to take another sip of my water, "and that's the brief story of some of my money. There I was fourteen years old, no family or at least none I trusted, worth one hundred million dollars in cash, real estate, and stock or board positions with thirty of the companies on the Forbes Fortune 500 list. The rest of my money I have made since then."
I get up and walked to the window. I stood staring into the eyes of my reflection with my arms folded across my chest when Lance came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
"You okay?" He asked resting his chin on my shoulder.
I intertwined my fingers with his and leaned my head against his, "yeah I'm alright; so that's the brief story of my money." I sighed and then looked back out the window. "I figured it would be easier to tell you about the money first."
"We can stop if you want."
"No, now that I've gotten started it will be easier to continue." I broke the embrace, gave Lance a quick kiss on the cheek and went back to the couch. I sat down in the corner with my back against the arm of the couch. Lance sat down on the other side with our feet touching in the middle.
"I don't remember most of my childhood."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I don't know why; it's not like there was something traumatic I'm repressing. It just seems that after about four years things just pass out of my mind. If I really concentrate I can recall some details, but it isn't easy."
"That sucks!"
"I've gotten used to it. My childhood was fairly normal, we lived in Manhattan; I went to private school. Both of my parents worked, I had a babysitter who watched me until they came home, and we had dinner together as a family. A fairly average upper tax bracket New York family all in all. On weekends sometimes we would go to The Hamptons or Vermont. It never seemed like we had that much money, my parents didn't want me to be spoiled. A couple of the big money items they did spend money on was art, the theater, and a lot of traveling, but that was mostly checking up on their companies around the world."
"Doesn't sound all that average to me."
"Like I said, average for Manhattan, that's very different from anywhere else in the world. We didn't have servants, just a cleaning lady who came twice a week; the limo's and jets all belonged to the companies. The apartment was on Central Park West, but it wasn't one of those ridiculous penthouses, it was a modest three bedroom. The thing about our money was that my parents made most of it themselves, and I more than doubled what they left to me. Anyway as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted..."
"Sorry."
"Just kidding, I don't mind explaining things to you. Anyway one thing I do remember is that I never really felt like a child, I always felt like a small adult. I remember having real conversations with my parents' friends. I didn't have lots of friends my own age. I recall being more of an observer than a participant, like I was watching my life happen on TV, not living it."
"Sounds lonely."
"It was, or I should say 'Is' lonely. I mean how many twenty-two year olds do you know who are already CEO's of companies, or major stockholders. Anyway that was my childhood; but I really think of my life beginning at thirteen. I remember that was when I realized that I liked other boys. I don't know remember how I came to this revelation; it's not like I got a crush on my best friend, cause I've always had more female friends than male. I do know that I was lucky..."
"What do ya mean?" Lance questioned.
"I didn't go through an awkward questioning phase like 'what's going on? Why am I feeling this way?' I lived in New York; my family knew lots of gay people. I knew what my feelings meant and I had people I could talk to about everything. Not to say that it wasn't hard at times; I still had to be careful, it took about a year for me to tell my parents. When I did they just told me they loved me and then gave me a lecture about safe sex."
"My parents still haven't had that conversation with me! I don't think I would be able to handle it."
"I know you're out to the guys, but have you told your family?"
"Yeah, I think they think it's just a phase and that I'll grow out of it; but they are 'okay' with it." Lance said making little air quotations with his fingers.
"Well just as long as you've told them. I couldn't date anyone who hadn't come out."
"It sounds like there is a story behind that decision?"
"Sort of, I'll tell you about that later. Okay, so now I am out to my parents, but as anyone who was a little different in school knows... it's your classmates you need to be careful of. Like I said before, I was mostly friendly with girls, I didn't play sports, I was quiet. You get the picture, so I was labeled a fag in third grade."
"Kids are rotten..."
"Yeah. So my biggest problem with being gay was that I didn't want my shit-head classmates to be right..."
Lance laughed a little and nudged me with his foot.
"I know I'm contrary, I can't help it."
"So back to the story..." Lance prompted.
"Alright, where was I?"
"Third-grade, classmates, being contrary."
"Right. So I'm still trying to act straight, or at least as straight as I ever could act in school, I 'date' a few girls, blah, blah, blah. Anyway acting straight was really starting to drain me emotionally, so I decided 'FUCK THEM,' and I came out.
FLASHBACK
"It was a rainy day and I was limping home, and I mean literally limping. It's funny how in New York, a city with six million people in it on any given day, how everyone can manage not to see a fourteen-year-old kid with a black eye and a split lip. I had told one of my 'friends' that I was gay, and by noon everyone in school knew. I knew they would, I wasn't mad. Most people didn't give a shit, a few said how impressed they were with my bravery, but then there were the bullies. They all got together and were waiting for me off school property... The first person to notice my condition was our doorman, Fred. He bent down and used his white cotton handkerchief to wipe the tears from my eyes and the blood from my chin. The scratch of the starched fabric across my face is the only feeling I could remember all day.
"Kiddo, you going to be able to make it to the elevator?"
"Yeah Fred, I made it all the way here from school, I think I can manage to get to my apartment."
"All right then..."
I made it to the elevator, but just barely. When the doors shut I leaned against the wall; I was feeling very tired. I guess the shock was wearing off.
Fred must have called up to my mom, because she was waiting for me with an icepack.
"Mom, what are you doing home so early?"
"Baby, it's six o'clock. How did you get home?"
"I walked."
"The entire way?"
"I lost all my subway tokens during the fight."
"Why didn't you call one of the drivers, or better yet why didn't you call your dad or me?"
"I didn't think, I guess I was kinda numb."
"I am calling your principal!" She moved towards the phone.
"It won't do any good. Who ever really got in trouble for beating up a faggot?" I asked slumping into the deep cushions of the couch.
"Brett."
"Don't worry Mom, I'll be okay; besides they would just be angrier the next time they try to get me." I stated rather matter-o-factly.
"Do you want to go to another school? Boarding school?"
"Running won't solve my problems. You know I can handle myself; they just caught me by surprise. I won't let it happen again."
"Okay Jellybean, if you're sure..."
Mom hasn't called me Jellybean in years, but this time I didn't really mind. It was nice to feel like a kid again, but somehow I knew this would be one of the last times I got to feel that way. "Yeah, I'm sure." I sighed and shuffled off to my room with the icepack firmly pressed against my eye.
I went to the bathroom and the black eye stared back at me. I wet a washcloth and wiped up the blood Fred couldn't get off my face.
"Mom!" I yelled.
"She came rushing into my room, "what's wrong?" She asked with concern in her voice.
"Nothing's wrong." I said sheepishly. "Fred wiped up a bunch of the blood on my face with his handkerchief; I want to get him a nice new one to replace it."
"Okay honey. I'll order him some nice linen ones tomorrow."
"Thanks Mom... mom?"
"Yes honey?"
"I love you."
"I love you too.""
END FLASHBACK
"Did it ever get any better for you at school?" Lance asked.
"That depends on how you look at it."
"Well isn't that cryptic?"
"I didn't get beat up again; but the way I managed that was to use my sarcasm and quick mind to defend and protect myself. I became a real BITCH. I could practically reduce people to tears with my comments in less than a minute. School is all about projecting an image of 'coolness', if the fag can make the bullies, or the jocks look foolish than pretty soon to keep up the image they have to avoid him."
Sounds like a good strategy to me." Lance offered.
"No baby trust me, looking back I would rather have been beaten up. I got so good at it that it stopped being a defense; it got integrated into my personality. I stopped being a nice person."
"You're a nice person."
"Thanks Lance, but it took me years to get it under control. When I get mad and sometimes in business I still use it, and sometimes I can't help the catty comments."
"Like Joan Rivers on "E"."
"If I ever get that evil, promise to shoot me."
"She's said nice things about me."
"Yeah, but what about the people she isn't nice too. She can be awful."
"Anyway, enough of this tangent. You were telling me about your life."
"Okay but why are we just talking about me?"
Okay, so that's the end of Chapter Five. I hope everyone liked it. Please email me with any comments, good or bad; but at least try to make them constructive. Kuamyin@aol.com
Hopefully "BP 6" will be out the early/middle of November. TTFN