This story is about male/male relationships and may contain graphic descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. If it is illegal for you to read this story due to your age or residence please stop now.
This is a work of fiction. It may use names of real locations, places and/or people but only to make the story more accessible to its readers. The use of these names in no way implies or is meant to imply anything about the sexuality, personality or behaviour of the actual person named. Please be clear here - THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.
This story is the sole property of its author and may not be copied in whole or in part or posted on any website without the express written consent of the author. The author wishes to acknowledge and thank the archivist for Nifty for allowing this story to be published here.
Questions/commentary can be sent to "rye_encoke@hotmail.com" Criticism, both good and bad are appreciated, rants and hate mail are forwarded to the senders email provider and deleted.
Authors Notes: This is my first story to be posted here at the archives. The band Westlife are not the subject of many stories here, I don't know why they are so damn hot, but they are the subject of this story. Again, I do not know the group or their sexuality, this is a totally made up story.
Yes I do know that several of the group are either dating or married, to women, but I have chosen to ignore that and for the purposes of this story none of the boys are involved or married. So if you like realism in your boyband stories...what the hell are you doing here?????
=== Meeting The Cast Of Characters ===
- Rye and Jill -
"Rye you free?" Jill looked into the office at her boss and best friend with a worried expression holding the book with the nights reservations."
"Sure hon watcha got."
"Maybe a problem, not sure, take a look at this." Jill set the book down in front of her friend and pointed to a reservation at 9 p.m. for Mark Feehily and guests. "It's a table for 6 Rye."
"Fuck me!" It had taken only a second for Rye to clue in. Rye was a 29 year old gay man, and what gay man would not know the names of the cute Irish boyband Westlife. But the real reason was because he had a major crush on the one member of the band who had made the reservation, one Mark Feehily.
Jill watched as Rye's mind took in the information, processed it and came up with a solution. She loved the way his mind worked. She loved everything about him. The only thing that made it bearable him being gay was that out of the ashes of the aborted romance had been born the most amazing friendship she had ever known. In her heart she knew that if their romance had ever happened they would not have been any more happy than they were as friends, and so she was satisfied.
"Okay," Rye started, "reservations only - let's keep the walk-ins out tonight that should cut business in half. Let's dim the lights to 50% and give them the back table near the wine vault. We'll have you or Sheila wait on them and any of the more high-strung staff working tonight let's call and give them the night off. I think I would like to call in all the bouncers and have them be obvious out front."
Jill nodded as she made a few notes on the plans for the night. "I'll wait them and put Sheila on bar tonight, only person to give the night off should be Stacey?" she paused after the name and looked to Rye for confirmation.
"Stacey for sure, and I think maybe David as well."
"Okay David too, you want the bouncers classy or menacing?"
Rye chuckled, "Classy should work, Tim and Matt are menacing enough regardless of what they wear, tell them tightest t-shirts under jacket and dress pants and the other 6 just dress pants and t-shirts. Put Time and Matt at the door, 4 at the bar so they can get to the dining area the other 2 watching the dance floor."
Jill nodded and finished her notes then smiled widely and sat on the desk pushing the papers Rye was working on out of the way. "So pretty cool having your favourite wet dream show up in your place huh!"
"Ha ha ha....you know I really don't need a manager for this place," Rye threatened.
"Yeah right, if it weren't for me this place would be a gay bar with disco lights and neon dicks all over the walls."
"I seem to remember the neon dicks were your idea dear. I always wanted a classy place to call my own. As I recall it was your idea to turn this place into a tacky gay bar and not the respectable place it is. I thought it was supposed to be the fag that queened things up not his fag hag."
Jill's eyes flashed hurt a bit, "Rye don't, you know I hate that expression."
"I'm sorry sweetie," he placed his arms around her and indicated the reservation book, "it's made me a little tense too early in the day. You know I don't really think of you that way. You are my closest friend who I love more than anyone else in the world."
"I know," she hugged back, "I just get the weird feeling that tonight I am gonna lose you to a certain big-nosed boyband singer."
"First off he does not have a big nose, he has character," Rye stated. "And secondly that won't happen, I will stay in my office the whole time and not even go to meet them, will that make you happy?"
"Not really," she held Rye at arm's length, "I think you should meet them, I mean really, what if there was something there with one of them, maybe even the love-of-your-dreams Mark. You may miss the opportunity."
"Nah, he's too beautiful to be real. Besides he's like 22 or something, what would he want with an old man like me?"
Jill sighed. She had been through this before. "God Rye. Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror. You are the one who is too beautiful to be real. The entire staff lusts after you, even the straight guys check you out when you walk by. But ignore your looks for now, it's what's inside you that is beautiful and makes people want to be around you. If there is another more caring, loving, intelligent, talented man in the entire world I would love to meet him and pray he was gay so that you could be with someone as good as you."
Rye's eyes filled up, "Get back to work before I break down and blubber like a baby."
Jill hugged him one more time and grabbed the book off the desk, but turned at the door as he said her name.
"Jill."
"Yeah."
"Love ya lots."
"Love ya more." She left his office and went to make the changes for the night. The night that was going to be very interesting with some celebs in the place. The night that would change...
Well let's just read on and see what happens.
Back in his office Rye looked through the security glass to the dining room below. He watched Jill as she came out of the employees hall and crossed the dance floor to the bar. Even though she had an office of her own, she always did all her work at the bar. It always had struck Rye funny that Jill seldom drank but seemed so at home slinging drinks. Actually that was how they met, she had been working at one of those pub nights on campus. That seemed like so long ago now. Before his world had turned upside down. He shook his head to clear away the demons.
Re-focusing his eyes he stared at the dim reflection of himself in the glass. It's true he was 29 but he looked much younger. He worked out every day and his body showed it. His shoulder length black hair was neatly pulled back and tied with a strip of black silk. He looked every bit the charming owner of a classy night club. Jill was right, even though he didn't know it, everyone watched him. He was absolutely breath-taking with full lips, drop-dead light brown eyes with little golden flecks in them, and a smile that could stop your heart. But if you had to pick his one best quality, the thing that made people stop and hold their breath when they met him, it was his voice. It was deep and rich and throaty. But the truly amazing thing was that you could actually feel his voice when he spoke. It seemed to reach out to you and caress you and move through you. He didn't try to sound sexy but it was part of him, like his smile or his eyes. He could melt you with that voice and make you forget whatever it was you had been thinking about just a second ago.
He sat back down at his desk and continued his paperwork. After a minute or two though he stopped and smiled. Turning in his chair he flipped a switch that opened a bank of security monitors in the wall behind his desk. Manipulating the controls a bit he changed two of the cameras so that they focused in tightly on the table that would be seating Westlife tonight. He frowned suddenly, wondering in his mind if this was not an invasion of privacy and just a little sick. He shrugged his shoulders and convinced himself it was for security reasons. He spent the next few hours finishing paperwork then headed upstairs to his loft, where he had an impressive home gym set up, to begin his daily workout.
- Mark and the boys -
Touring can be brutal. The guys had spent the last two months on the road almost non-stop. It was almost over though. Only 7 more concerts to go, but that was still a week and a half away. Right now they were one day away from a 10 day rest. They were already big stars in Europe, but here in North America, they were just another boyband. All their concerts had been sold out which made management happy.
Shane wandered into the main room of the suite in boxers and a ripped t-shirt. He didn't look awake. He knocked on the door of one of the other rooms and spoke loudly.
"Kian, time to get up mate we have interviews."
A muffled voice replied, "Hump off," followed by a bang and then the door opening. "How long?"
"An hour, I'll call breakfast and you wake up the rest." Shane headed for the phone while Kian, dressed in boxer briefs, headed to the other doors to wake up the rest of the boys.
About 20 minutes later all 5 boys were seated around the table eating breakfast, some more awake than others, and generally just staring blankly while they ate.
"It's going to be so nice to have time off," Bryan sighed.
"10 days off, 3 weeks of concerts and interviews, then 3 months off to work on our next album," Mark smiled.
"3 months of vacation," Kian smiled too.
"Not total vacation, we have to get some songs together for the album," Shane said, "We want to have some of our own stuff in there remember."
The others rolled their eyes and groaned. Shane was always so serious, but it was him that kept them focused, and was the groups unnofficial mother/father/big brother. He was the one they went to with their problems and was the one who solved them, well he brought everyone together and made them talk through the problem and they solved it together, but Shane was the glue that held them together. He had this way about him that just made you want to make him proud of you. He brought out the best in those around him.
"I wish we didn't have to write our own songs," Nicky said.
This had been a sticking point for a while now. Shane knew he had pushed the group to write their own songs. Most of the group tentatively agreed with him, but they still didn't understand it like he needed them too. He sighed. "Alright, lets do it this way, say we don't write any of our own songs for the next album, lets do worse case."
The others smiled, this was like a game to them but it also helped to clear their minds and bring the problem into sharper focus. It was something Shane had come up with. Each person had a different audience they responded for. Shane spoke for management, Bryan for the fans, Mark for the press, Kian for the parents and Nicky for their friends. They would take on the persona of the audience they represented and give a statement about the situation that that audience might say. After everyone had said their piece they would all think about it. Once they decided what they thought about what had been said and had made a decision they would raise their glasses and toast each other, stronger for their committment to each other and the group.
"Yeah, worse case," Nicky said with delight.
"Okay," Shane spoke up, "We don't write any of our own songs for the next album. Go."
Mark spoke for the press, "Just another manufactured boyband."
Kian for the parents, "I would be so proud to hear you sing one of your own songs." Several of the boys looked at him like they had heard this little gem already.
Bryan for the fans, "They are just like all the others."
Nicky for their friends, "How can I respect you when you let others control everything you do."
Shane for management, "You'll sing what we tell you to sing."
As Shane made his statement a couple of the boys glanced at him with a touch of fear in their eyes. They all spent a couple of minutes thinking it over. Finally Mark took up his glass of orange juice and held it out to the table.
"To writing our own songs and to us," he said.
One by one the others raised their glasses and repeated the words he had spoken, "To us."
Breakfast continued in silence for a few minutes til the phone rang. Mark who was closest answered and after talking briefly hung up.
"Cars ready in 15, lets get ready." Mark shouted behind him as he entered his bedroom, "Hey guys!"
A series of responses from the rest of the group let Mark know he was being listened to.
"Got us a reservation at a nice little club tonight, comes highly recommended and very classy, got a dance floor, bar, pool tables," Mark shouted out into the suite.
Variations of 'cool' and 'alright' came back to him. He cringed a bit as he shouted back out, "I have something to talk to you guys about tonight as well."
Again more variations of 'cool' and 'alright'.
As the band left the suite for the interviews that day, Rye was leaving his office to get ready for his workout up in his loft.
=== Getting To Know The Locations ===
- Rye N'Coke Club -
Jill was walking around the club doing her final checks before opening the doors at 6 p.m. She was dressed smartly in a long grey skirt with high heels and a white blouse. Nothing spectacular but still enough to gather some looks. She was beautiful, although she would make a face at you if you told her so. Tonight she was also wearing her 'frownie' face as Rye called it. When she was nervous or anxious she tended to bite on her lower lip. She checked things off on her list as she did her walkaround, starting from the main doors.
The club was split into 3 sections; the dining area, the dance area, and the bar and pool table area. From the main door you walked directly onto the dance area. It was a large floor, on a good night holding around 250 patrons, with small tables for 2, 4 or 6 people surrounding it. The dance floor was rigged with lights while strobes, disco lights and spotlights hung from the ceiling. Further into the club the bar stretched from one side to the other and was what separated the dance area from the dining area, it helped to soften the noise for the diners. The bar was huge and usually held about 16 bartenders. On one end of the bar was the pool table area where 8 tables stood. The other end was the walkthrough to the dining area. The dining area itself was small, only 26 tables, but they were always full. More and more it was filled with reservations, and not walk-ins, as the reputation of the club grew. Soon it would be next to impossible to get a meal here if you didn't have a reservation and that was what Rye was aiming for. The dining area was dimly lit with each table having a light above it that was controlled from a switch at the bar. Decorative columns, large planters and hand painted screens kept each table private and charming. Within the dining area were the doors for the employee area, the kitchen and the massive wine vault.
Jill walked through the bar, once again checking the switches for the lights in the entire room were at 50%. Walking to the dining area she glanced at the table near the entrance to the wine vault. She contemplated having the two nearest tables removed but knew that would only make the guys stand out more. Glancing at the book she held she realized that at that time of night she would also need all her tables. She silently cursed all celebrities and the problems they bring with them. She caught herself in her 'frownie' face and forced herself to relax. She thought for a minute about Rye and what he might be doing and giggled to herself as she pictured him getting all prettied up.
Checking down her list she realized she was done. She glanced up and said into the club, "Okay people it's show time, remember best behaviour, its a VIP night and no screw ups or its your ass. This could be a big night for Rye N'Coke, let's make sure it is."
Without any further words she unlocked the door and nodded to Maria, the host for the evening, as she passed out the front door heading to Rye's loft upstairs.
- Rye's Loft -
Rye was fiddling with his hair. For some reason he just could not get it into the ponytail he usually wore. He heard someone key in through the door to the loft, "That you hon?"
Jill's voice answered back, "Who else would it be. Can't be Mark he doesn't even know who you are yet."
"Don't keep saying stuff like that," he said as she came up behind him, taking the ribbon from his hand she expertly tied his hair into the ponytail he wore.
She smiled at him, then looked into his eyes. She saw all the reasons she loved him there; the love he had for her, his honesty, his caring. She also saw something else in his eyes, she thought she saw hope. "Oh honey", she said as she hugged him to her, "I keep hoping if I say it often enough it will happen for you. I want you to promise to at least introduce yourself to them. You are the owner of the club and it would seem odd if you didn't."
"I guess that couldn't hurt. I wouldn't want to be rude." He smiled like he had just found a respectable way to do exactly what he wanted to do anyways.
"And if any of them are gay, once they get a look at you, you will know it." She quickly avoided the slap aimed at her backside and raced from the bathroom to the bedroom area of the loft.
Jill loved Rye's loft. It was huge, in fact if you stopped to figure it out it was actually bigger than the club, since the loft had a partial second floor built into it for the bedroom and was missing the huge wine vault, offices and kitchen. The building that housed both the club and the loft was an old two-storey factory. Rye had purchased it a few years back after the trouble, Jill's eyes clouded briefly, and had set to work converting it into his dream. The high ceilings of the factory had been perfect for the club, but what it did for the loft was breathtaking.
The loft was bigger than most houses and the whole thing was open, no walls, so it looked even bigger than it really was, which as mentioned earlier was just huge. The entire south wall was a floor to roof window. Halfway up the wall the window started to slant inwards to create a kind of skylight effect. At the eastern end of the loft was the kitchen/dining area. The main living area was facing the southern window which had a breathtaking view of the park and river across the street. The park and river also had an impact on visitors to the club who would often step out after dancing to get romantic in the park. The northern area of the loft was devoted to various pursuits of Rye. There was a library, a workout area, his multimedia area which boasted big screen tv, a stereo system to rival the clubs, and his computer. Also located here was a set of security cameras for the club. A second floor was added to the northeast corner where stairs led up to the sleeping area. Looking down over the balcony from Rye's bedroom to the loft below Jill noticed a new chair.
"So how many is that now," she shouted in to Rye.
"37," he shouted back.
Jill just rolled her eyes. Rye collected chairs and sofas like other people collected books, although his collection of books was quite something in its own right. Rye had more books than most book stores. But this obsession with chairs was one of his little oddities that Jill loved to tease him about. Whenever she did he would try to explain that it was because the loft was so big and that it just needed another chair or two to make it look right. She had one time tried to rearrange the chairs but Rye had noticed it right away and changed them all back. He had returned the favour the next day by turning off the hot water to the shower while she was in it. That had started a two week run of practical jokes that had ended in a draw after pyrotechnics were brought into play and the safety of those around them became a concern.
She could have moved in with Rye at any time. There was no real reason not to. They both loved each other, she had long gotten over the romantic love and was happy with the friendship, but she never did feel right about moving in. The time was not right. Deep down Jill knew that as wonderful as this place was, it was waiting for someone else. She could be a guest, and often was, but not a resident, not yet. That honor was reserved for the man who would give to Rye everything that love meant. For a moment she looked into the bathroom as she listened to Rye humming and thought of the men coming to the club tonight. Specifically she thought of the man Mark. She of course knew who he was and what he looked like. She decided that she was going to watch him carefully tonight and if she got even an inkling, even the tiniest blip on her gaydar screen she was gonna push Rye into his arms and hope that fate would step in.
"After all," she said to herself, "what kind of fag hag would I be if I didn't try."
"Whatcha mumbling?"
"Nothing. Wow you look great. Any reason in particular you pulled out all the stops tonight." Jill waggled her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at Rye who just smiled and rolled his eyes.
"I figured I would work the room tonight a bit." He smiled at her then gave up. "Oh Jill, I just want to meet him and shake his hand. Be able to look into those eyes and see him smile. I know nothing could happen but.. but.." He floundered a bit and Jill looked into his eyes and saw tears forming.
"Oh honey," she hugged him tightly, "I promise you, I will help you, I will mention you a couple of times and then introduce you, and if there is an ounce of justice in this universe he will fall madly in love with you."
Inside, Jill's heart nearly broke as she realized just how fragile Rye could be, how fragile he still was. She wanted so badly for him to find someone to love him back. He deserved it. He had been through so much. Lost so much.
For the first time in her 28 years Jill prayed. "Please God, doesn't he deserve to be happy. Let him have this thing he wants so badly."
As they left Rye's loft she turned around and glanced at the poster in the music area, she found the face of Mark on the Westlife poster and said aloud, "Amen."
Outside it began to rain and a distant flash of lightning lit the night sky....
...to be continued
Disclaimers etc.
Although the word Coke is used by many people to refer to any cola drink I figured I should put in some sort of note here. Coke is a registered trademark of the Coca-Cola company, yada yada yada. For the purposes of this story the name of the club and the name of the main character are a word play on each other. Rye N'Coke club and Rye Encoke.