Legal Stuff: I don't know NSYNC or any other celebrity mentioned. While real people are the basis of characters, they are characters here and do not represent the real lives, thoughts, or feelings of the real people. Again, these are characters based on them, not the real people themselves. If you are too young, or live in a location where it is illegal to read stories that include love between men, read no further! Like that would have ever stopped me...
A little side note here. I'm spoiling you all. Don't expect every chapter to be coming out this fast. I've gotten a nice start but real life WILL intrude...it always does. I'm going to try to keep at least once per week postings, but if things get real rough that could slip to once very two weeks. Love ya, Dan
Language Notes: There is some Russian contained in this section, and possible future sections. As you may know, the language uses an alphabet with more, and different letters than ours. So, I've tried to spell the words phonetically, closer to how they are actually pronounced. Thanks!
A Phone Call 3 --
I hate alarm clocks. That's because I hate waking up in the morning. Usually on Saturday I would wait until 11:00 a.m. to wake up (if I didn't sleep longer). So having my alarm clock go off at 7:00 a.m. did not put me in a good mood. That is, until I remembered I had a guest and that we were flying to L.A.
Okay, I'll be honest here about my age. I'm 29 and I turn 30 next month. I'm not looking forward to it. Let's face it, popular gay culture has 30 as being old, and I felt way to young to be classified as old. Add onto that my family history and I was really not looking forward to my next birthday. Unfortunately, science has not developed the anti-aging serum that I longed for, so there wasn't much I could about growing older.
This was way too much heavy thinking so early in the morning. I pulled myself out of bed and sleepily walked into the bathroom. Okay, there are some nice things about growing older...I no longer woke up with a morning stiffy every damn day. Today, though, was not one of those days. I stood over the damn toilet for at least five minutes before it went down enough to piss. That done, I hopped in the shower and cleaned off the grime of sleep.
By the time I finished my shower, I was feeling somewhat more human. I shaved, brushed my teeth and remembered that I hadn't packed yet. Fifteen minutes of mad scrambling later, I was done packing, but still not dressed. I went back into the closet (no, not THAT closet) and picked out a loose fitting pair of jeans, a blue and gray t-shirt, and some socks to wear. Dressed, packed, and ready to go I decided to see if James was ready. That was when our first road bump of the day hit. He was asleep and didn't want to wake up.
Tickling solved that problem, but created another one when he ended up pinning me to the bed and tickling me. He finally quit, making some comment about not me not being able to last ten minutes with NSYNC before ambling off into the guest bathroom. I decided to make some breakfast while he got ready. We still had some time before we had to leave. Fifteen minutes later, he was out of the shower. Ten minutes after that, he was dressed and eating breakfast at my table.
"Can I borrow your laptop for the weekend?" he asked me in between bites of French Toast (yes, I remembered he liked them from Manuel's incessant chatter about the group).
"Sure, I already packed it just in case." I told him.
"Man, you're the best." He told me with a smile.
"Flattery always helps." I smiled.
"I liked Steve and Jeff" he said after a few more bites. "They are good people."
"They are nice guys." I responded, pleased that he had enjoyed his night out. Breakfast finished quietly after that and I put the dishes in the dishwasher before we grabbed our bags and left. He drove his rental back to the airport and checked it in to the rental company. I reminded him to make a reservation for Sunday when we returned. Soon after that, we were in the VIP lounge waiting for our plane to announce boarding. It had been years since I'd been inside of a VIP lounge and I was starting to remember just how nice it could be when our flight was called. A little bit later, we were in the air and on our way to L.A.
"So, Scoop, what exactly does our schedule look like?" I asked him after the attendant had given us our coffee. He did a double take and then grinned at me.
"Well, Groupie, we are going to stop by the office first." He said, and I groaned at his nickname for me.
"I'm not a groupie...yet." I told him. "Besides, you actually have an office in L.A.?"
"Yeah, lately most of my business has been operating from there, and that's where my PA was working from. It's actually in a building the Label leases. Just a small office and secretary's area. Supposedly Melinda left the PDA, cell phone, and keys on the desk there. Then I have to get to the venue by 11:00 to make sure things are set up right for tonight. Shit! It's almost 9:30 now! We're not going to make it in time!"
"Relax." I told him calmly, smiling a little bit. "You forgot we left from Arizona. We don't do that spring forward/fall back time change thingie. Right now, California is an hour behind us."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." He said a bit sheepishly.
"That's okay, I realize you are a blond." I said smugly.
"Hey, you are too!" He retorted.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." I said, imitating him exactly. We both cracked up laughing, garnering us some looks from the other first class passengers.
"So, after the venue?" I asked.
"Well, we should stop by the house and drop our bags off. I should be done by 2:00 or so. Then we get ready for tonight. I'm meeting the band for dinner at 5:00 and they have to be at the venue by 7:00 for final sound checks. Then we stay around for the charity event to start at 8:00."
"Sounds fun. What about Sunday?" I continued on.
"We sleep until noon, do lunch, follow up with the band in the late afternoon then head back home."
"Head home?" I asked, needling him. Inside I was happy that he might think of Phoenix as home, if only for a few months of the year.
"Did I say home? I meant your apartment. It seems some jerk at the City won't let me move into my new home." James whined and once again we both started laughing. Before we knew it, the stewardess was taking our empty drinks and getting ready for landing. A few minutes later we were on the ground and getting the rental car. The rental car representative was a bit of jerk, but that was the worst we had to deal with. Lance drove, since he knew L.A. far better than I did and we were at the Label's office building within thirty minutes. He had a visitor's pass printed for me and we made our way to his office. That was where things started to go wrong. Did I say started? They'd actually started a lot earlier, but that was when we found out.
"Jeezus!" Lance exclaimed when he picked up the cell phone Melinda had left on the charger. When he showed me the message indicator (39 messages!) I swore too. He picked up the PDA and messed around with it and began swearing for real.
"Calm down, bud." I said as calmly as I could. I put a hand on his shoulder and took the PDA with the other. I was worried he was going to throw it across the room. It only took me a moment to figure out what had him so upset. According to his calendar, he had meetings scheduled every day next week, all in L.A., when he was going to be in Phoenix. To make matters worse, half of the meetings only had initials and places. No contact information.
"How the hell am I going to fix this?" Lance was nearly ranting now, calling Melinda every name he could think of, while I was picking around the PDA.
"I think I can handle this." I told him after a few minutes.
"What?" he said, stopping his pacing and turning to look at me with surprise on his face.
"I said I think I can figure out this mess and straighten things out." I explained.
"Can you?" he asked me, hope showing on his face.
"Probably. Can you get me into the voicemail on the cell phone?" I asked, sitting down at the desk and starting up the sync program on the computer. She had left it turned so I didn't have to wait for the damn thing to boot up.
"Of course, I'll write down the password." He said, writing something down on the post-it note. It was Saturday and the building seemed to be pretty much deserted, making it very quiet. That quiet would be helpful while I cussed at the PDA, computer and this Melinda chick I'd never met.
"James, would you be okay if I stayed here and sorted this out?" I asked him after a few minutes. It looked like my idea was right, but it would still take a few hours.
"Are you sure? You're here as my friend. I don't want you to think..." James began to object.
"Would you help me out if the situation was reversed?" I interrupted him.
"Yes." He said.
"Then don't worry about it. I'd help out any of my friends this way if it was needed." I told him.
"Okay, I'll check back with you in a couple of hours. I'll just call the cell phone." He said before giving me a hug and leaving the building. I smiled at his back, watching his rear end as he walked away. It was a nice sight, and well worth the mess of the next couple of hours.
By the time 2 o'clock rolled around, I was hungry, my neck ached, my eyes were starting to glaze over and most of the mess had been straightened out. I'd moved most of the meetings to the two days that Lance planned to be here or to the following week. Then I'd called all the people back (their numbers were stored in the phone using the same initialing system in the PDA. At least Melinda had some method to her madness. There just three more phone calls to go and then I'd call James and let him know I was done. He'd tried to call while I was on the phone a few times, and the new message indicator showed that he'd left a message, but I was on a roll and didn't want to break my rhythm. The next message I listened to did that just fine. It was dated from Friday morning.
"Melinda!" a female voice fairly shrieked from the voicemail system. "This is Tracy from `Laze'. You have to tell Lance that we won't be performing on Saturday. There's no way I'm going to work with those idiots in the band. They don't want me changing their precious songs when I sing and I refuse to let them cramp my artistic style! You just tell Lance to find someone else!"
Great, she had hung up without leaving a phone number. The next few messages were from some guys and a girl that apparently made up the rest of the band giving detailed accounts of the argument that had sparked this crisis. The next to last message was from Tracy again saying that she was leaving the hotel and would be staying at some friend's house. Fortunately she left a number that time. The last message was from James, asking me how things were going and asking me to call him if there were any messages about this band. I had a headache from just thinking about how he was going to react when I called him with this news. I felt genuinely sorry for the guy, and was starting to worry that I'd be going back to Phoenix alone. When I realized that little tidbit, the headache got worse. I couldn't be falling for him this quick. I just didn't work that way! Then the phone rang.
"Freelance." I answered it (see I did know the name of his company!).
"Where's Melinda?" an angry female voice demanded. I recognized it immediately.
"She quit, Tracy." I answered. My voice was in full professional asshole mode now.
"What do you mean she quit? She can't just quit!" Tracy was yelling now.
"Why not?" I asked. Then drove a nail in. "You did."
"But...but that's different" she spluttered.
"You're right, it is different." I agreed with her. "You have a chance to make millions of dollars, become famous world-wide, but instead you'd rather throw a temper tantrum and walk away. Melinda was stupid for walking away from a good job. You, well let's just say it's hard to describe the level of stupidity you're exhibiting right now."
"Who the fuck do you think you are? Wait, who the hell are you?!" she shouted back.
"Keep on shouting and cussing at me and you will never find out, diva wannabe."
"You...you can't talk to me that way." She sputtered.
"Obviously I can since I just did." I told her firmly. "Now maybe I shouldn't but it's too late now. I've got a question for you Tracy: Did you not sign a contract with Freelance?"
"Well, yeah..." she said.
"Glad you remember that." My voice was lowering as I spoke, becoming more dangerous. "Didn't that contract say that you would perform at gigs set up for you by Freelance?"
"Yes, but there are ways out of..." she started explaining.
"Do any of them cover you quitting because you want to be able to ad-lib lyrics to songs?"
"Well, there's the Artistic Freedom clause..."
"But does that cover changing lyrics that the group has written, that you have recorded, and that your listeners expect to hear on a specific song?"
"I'm not sure." She admitted as if I'd pulled her tooth. Well maybe I had figuratively.
"Well, I am much more sure than you." I told her. "You know how well the industry reacts when big name stars renege on their contracts. What do you think will happen to you, dear?"
"Lance wouldn't..."
"Wanna take that bet?" I warned her. "He's been having a bad day."
"What should I do?" her voice was defeated now. It was time for charm.
"Well, here's what I would do in this situation. I would get a hold of the rest of the band, and your manager as soon as possible today. Tell them you're sorry, even if you aren't, just say it. Then you tell them you promise not to change any more lyrics on stage until AFTER all of you have met with management to discuss the issue. I'll set up a meeting for you guys a week from Wednesday.
"You promise?" she said weakly.
"I promise." I told her. "Listen, I think that you are not totally wrong here, but management should be involved in this discussion. Especially now since you all have been fighting so much. Lance told me you guys had a lot of potential as a group, but your instability could unravel you before you hit it big. No one here wants that to happen and we'll help all of you work through these issues.
"Okay, I better get calling the guys then." She said. "Tell Lance we'll be there for sound check on time. Um, by the way...what was your name?"
"Dave. Davy Young , and I'll see you tonight Tracy." With that I hung up the phone and let out a sight. Then jumped and clutched my heart as someone started clapping. I turned and saw James at the entrance.
"Sure, just scare me to death" I complained.
"I've never seen someone handle Tracy that well before!" James said as he crossed the room to give me a hug. "I heard the phone conversation since `Why not, you did.'" Her band showed up at the venue an hour ago and let me in on their little freak out. I take it she's going to perform?
"Yes."
"Good. There's going to be a lot of big names there tonight and their performance can make or break them." James said softly, still standing real close to me.
"That's what I thought." I told him, settling back into the chair and relishing the smell of his cologne.
"You know, I think you're a natural in the business. You should be working for a company like this instead of wasting away in government." His statement caught me totally by surprise Not about being a natural for this business. I'd grown up in it, kind of. What surprised me was that I found I had enjoyed the day, and the phone call and for a moment I actually saw myself doing this kind of work as a job. Fortunately reality reasserted itself pretty damn quick.
"I'm not a natural, Jim." I told him slowly, keeping my eyes closed as I walked down a painful memory lane. Shakespeare came to mind immediately.
"All the world is a stage, and all the people in it merely players. They each of their exits and their entrances."
"Shakespeare" Lance said softly, sitting on the desk, our legs are touching each other. My eyes were still closed but I could hear his movement and the contact between our legs.
"Yes. Remember me telling you my dad was a preacher?" I asked and he mumbled that he did. "Well, have you ever thought about what it was like being in a preacher's family?"
"Not really. Our preacher back home had kids but I never spent much time with them."
"That's not surprising. I knew a lot of the kids in my dad's churches. But none of them really knew me or my sister. The preacher is the "shepherd" of the flock. He leads the congregation and they look up to him. He is supposed to stand as an example of Christian behavior to his followers."
"Yeah, that's pretty standard. I mean that goes for all leaders, doesn't it?" James asked quietly.
"True, but what about his family?" I asked just as quietly.
"His family?" James asked, then thought for a moment. "I think I see what you mean. Every time one of the preacher's kids misbehaved, it was like everyone knew about it, talked about what happened."
"That's the viewpoint from the outside." I said slowly. "What you don't see are the lectures from both parents about having to be role models for all the other kids. You don't see the parents struggling with the same issues as other parents, but not being able to lean on others since they are supposed to be role models. People put not just the pastor, but the entire family up on pedestals to point out as role models. The side effect is that when you're up on the pedestal everyone sees everything you do."
"That's got to be rough." James commented.
"It is, but you learn to adapt, to deal. Did you know that preacher's kids are often great actors? They learn from an early age how to create a public image, how to appear to be what people expect instead of who they really are. They learn to manipulate not only their own image, but the people around them. You see so much, learn so much about what motivates people. The little old ladies of the church know where all the skeletons are, their husbands all maneuver for positions of authority, and everyone always looks at the preacher and his family to see when they stumble. Then they drag them off the pedestal and see how many pieces they can be smashed into."
"Not all churches are like that." James said after a moment of silence.
"No, no, they aren't. Unfortunately they are far too common and usually control enough opinion in a church to vote a pastor out. Still, that's what I grew up in, and really it isn't that different from politics or the `industry' here in L.A."
"Well, I still think you should think about working in the industry. You'd make a great manager or executive. I'd even be happy to put a word or two in for you." James said after a moment of silence.
"Thanks, bud." I told him truthfully. "But I'm happy where I'm at now."
"If you say so. We better get moving. If we're not going to be late for their sound check, we have to hurry home and change."
"Alright. I've written everything I've done so far, and what else needs to be done. It's on the computer, the PDA, and a printout is over in the printer." I told him, thinking about business first.
"Really? I appreciate it." James said with a big smile. "Would you mind holding onto the cell phone for the weekend? I don't want to miss any important calls that come through."
"Sure, no problem." I answered. He stood up and held out his hand, I took it and he pulled me to my feet. Naturally we kind of bumped into each other, which gave him the opportunity to wrap me in a bear hug. I stared down at his eyes, and he had his head tilted back, grinning up at me.
"I'm gonna have to start doing neck exercises." He grumbled sweetly. His voice was a sultry tone with strong hints of a southern accent peaking through.
"Better watch it, Mr. Bass." I replied, slowing down the speed with which I talked and putting a twang in my voice. "Ya might make all them people think ya was a rube."
He started laughing, still hugging me (yeah, okay, I was hugging back too. He felt real nice). We stood like that laughing for a few moments, then he stood up on his toes and I knew he was going for a kiss. I didn't even think about it, I leaned my head down and met his lips with mine.
Who knows how long that kiss lasted. All I knew was that kissing him was unlike kissing anyone else. It wasn't the techniques of the kiss, I'd known people who could tie cherries with their tongues, but there was something else to it that made it special. When both cell phones started ringing at the same time, I lost that train of thought to a fit of laughter. Jimmy boy was laughing too as he answered his phone. I decided I should answer the PA's phone.
"Freelance Productions" I said with a smile in my voice.
"Allo, " a heavily accented voice responded. "Iz this assistant for Mr. Bass?"
"Da" I said having recognized the accent and grammar structure. "Menya zavout David."
"Vwe po-russkie?" the caller asked excitedly.
"Ne mnoga." I told him truthfully. "Shto vwe xoteetye?"
By this time, James was standing there staring at me with his mouth hanging open. I reached over and shut it while I continued my conversation in Russian. It turned out the caller was an assistant to a prominent music executive that FreeLance had been working with. There was an English-speaking act that they were trying to market in the U.S. They had been invited to attend the charity event tonight, but had not been able to confirm they would make it until now. I conveyed the gist of this to James who eagerly agreed that it would be good to have them there. Our three way, two language conversation ended soon after that.
"I didn't know you spoke Russian." James said after I'd hung up.
"I didn't know you were dealing with a Russian music executive." I responded softly. Idly tracing the outline of his jaw. His expression glazed over for a moment and I smiled widely.
"Point taken." James whispered softly. "We haven't really known each other for two days yet. It just feels so natural to have you around though. I forget that you haven't always been here."
"It does feel natural to be around you, James." I told him, keeping my voice full of affection. "We still have a lot to learn about each other, and I'm going to enjoy doing that."
"Okay," he said, his tone getting brisk. "Let's get going. At this rate we're gonna be later than the guests and I want to talk to Tracy and her group right after their sound check."
"You got it, Scoop." I said. I imagined this was the way he'd been on tour with NSYNC and could just imagine how much crap he got for it.
"C'mon Groupie." He said with a smile as we headed out of the building and into the rental. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but driving in L.A. can be a hair-raising experience. Riding with James Lance Bass is better than Space Mountain over at Disneyland. It's a good thing I'm an adrenaline junkie. The bad thing is that all that adrenaline makes me horny and I found my hand grasping James' thigh about 5 minutes into the trip.
"Hey, I thought you wanted to take things slowly." He mocked, grinning widely. Of course he'd looked at me when he said that, and then turned back to find traffic at a standstill and him going 30 miles per hour. We found out one thing for sure, this rental SUV has damn good brakes.
"Sorry" I mumbled.
"S'Okay." He said, smiling still. "Put it back, my thigh feels lonely now."
I grinned and complied with his wishes. I had no intention of going further than a few kisses for now, but I swear this guy was starting to really have an effect on me. I was both excited and unnerved about that fact. I mean, over the past two days, I'd started a great friendship with someone I liked a lot. I didn't want to get all romantic, then break up and not be friends. I'd rather have a good friend instead. Although my hand didn't move, my heart did a little. It pulled back just enough to be safe.
We arrived at his condo pretty quickly. It was actually really nice. Four bedrooms, one was an office the others bedrooms. My bags were already in one of the rooms, which he showed me immediately. It had a connecting bathroom, so I immediately took another shower. When I came out of the shower, I found that someone had already unpacked all my toiletries, so I was able to shave and get myself groomed. I exited the bathroom and started to get my bags off the bed to figure out what I was going to where, when I noticed some clothes hanging on the door. There was a note attached that I read quickly.
Dave,
I had to go shopping earlier today because I wanted a new outfit for tonight. While I was there, I saw this outfit and thought it would look great on you. I hope you don't mind me buying it for you, and would really appreciate it if you would consider wearing it. Thanks, James.
I took the clothes of the hanger and got a good look at them. The shirt was a metallic blue with thin silver strips running vertically. It shined in the room's lighting and I knew it would really accent my eye color. The pants were a really nice pair of black slacks with the same silver inlays as the shirt. The inlays were subtle, not immediately obvious which I liked. Luckily I had a pair of shoes that went perfect with the outfit. Yes, I know, how typical a gay man ranting on about clothes, but give me a break. It's not every day you go to a Hollywood Charity even with a pop star!
James' face when I walked downstairs told me that wearing these clothes was the right decision. He practically glowed when he saw me. I swear he floated from the living room to where I stood beaming the entire way. He gave me a quick hug and a smooch. That was when I noticed we weren't alone.
"C'mon handsome." He said in a smokey voice. "There's someone I want you to meet."
He dragged me into the living room and I immediately noticed the young woman standing there. I immediately recognized her, and from her sudden smile I could see she remembered me. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Dave, please say hi to Christina Applegate. Christina, this is my friend Dave." James was saying. Christina stared at me for a moment before squealing and rushing into a hug with me.
"Davey!" she said far more loudly than was necessary. James' face was full of surprise. Guess he was going to learn more about my past already.
"Chris." I answered her far more quietly, but still loud enough for James to hear. "It's good to see you again."
"It's been, what, seven years?" She asked as she pulled back from the hug, holding onto my arms and looking at me. "You look as good as ever."
"Thanks, love." I told her. "And it's been eight years, not seven."
"You always remember stuff like that. Where did you disappear to? I was upset that you just disappeared like that."
"Long story." I said, hoping to not go into that here. "Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. It's good to hear that you finally met someone worth keeping."
"Tell me about it." She said with a smile. "I seem to remember crying on your shoulder about that at least once. I would ask how your love life is going, but considering you're here with my neighbor..."
"Neighbor?" I asked, then added. "We're friends, not lovers."
"For now." James said with a smile. Okay, I can't deny shuddering in pleasure at the way he said that.
"Oh, I think you two would make a ravishing couple. I live a few doors down and saw that Lance was home. I just stopped by to see if he was staying long and needed anything. I hear you guys have a party to go to tonight?"
"Yeah, he's got a charity function and dragged me out from Phoenix." I said.
"Well, before you go, make sure I have your phone numbers and address. I'm not losing touch with you again." She said so firmly that I knew there was no getting out of it. That wasn't too bad of a thing. She may have played a total ditz on Married With Children, but she was one of the smartest women I'd ever known.
"Okay, well, you boys have fun!" She said as James showed her out the door. He came back into the living room and stared at me for a few moments.
"What?" I said after a bit.
"I'm starting to think that a certain someone is not a stranger to Hollywood after all."
"I'm a stranger to the music business." I said, then immediately winced. "Unless you include a few backstage passes to some concerts and a few conversations here and there."
"I think I'm going to have fun needling you until I know everyone you know in the business." He said with a laugh. "Let's get going, we can be on-time if we leave now."
"The way you drive, I'll just be happy to get there." I teased.
"Fine, you drive." He said, tossing me the keys.
"Where we going?" I asked as we left the condo and he set the alarm.
"It's over by Mann Theatre." He said, then gave me the address. I recognized the place since I'd been there once before, albeit eight years ago.
"Okay, I know the way." I told him smugly as we got into the rental and I took off. By the time we got there, he was pale (yes, paler than normal). His hands gripped the armrest on the door with a death grip and he looked over at me with a wild look in his eyes.
"You talk about my driving be an experience." he muttered.
"I got you here, didn't I." I said with a laugh. I got out and handed the keys to the valet. We made our way inside and I saw a transformation in my friend. He wasn't James anymore. I was seeing Lance Bass now and it was very obvious just how much the difference was. I had expected it, after all I changed my personality in different circumstances, but I couldn't help the sudden feeling of loneliness that swept through me. James was gone for a little bit.
I was standing in the main room, looking at the stage, and at all the people scurrying around when I heard someone clear the throat behind me. I turned around and was treated to the sight of a stunningly beautiful woman. She was of medium height, had raven black hair, and a very waifish build. When she spoke, I immediately recognized her voice.
"Lance tells me you're the guy I talked to on the phone." She said, looking me right in the eyes.
"Yeah, I'm Dave." I responded.
"I wanted to say thanks for convincing me to get down here. I would have blown our best shot at a good deal if you hadn't talked some sense into me."
"You're welcome." I told her. "I meant what I said, too. I've left instructions for Lance's new PA to set the meeting up for you."
"Thanks" She said, her face blooming into a smile. "I'll see ya later, the band's going out to dinner before the show."
That seemed to end the period of idleness for me. More and more people kept coming up to me and asking questions. Apparently, someone named Lance Bass had directed them to get answers from me on various issues regarding the night's set-up. They were mostly little things, but they kept me so busy that I found myself snacking on some of the party food instead of having a dinner. From the few glances of Lance I got, he was doing the same.
Celebrities started arriving before I knew it had gotten that late. The main room started filling up and I went ahead and grabbed a table before they were all taken. I knew that tonight would feature a charity auction throughout the performances, a couple of bands, and a couple of comedians. Of course, besides Lance's group, I didn't know who else would be entertaining. Lance was one of the main promoters of this night, but from what the staff had said earlier, there were several others as well. They must have had their staff working on this for weeks while Lance was responsible for pre-show set-up. That was the only way I could figure out what was going on. Maybe I'd ask him about it later.
I'd been at the table for an hour, sipping on a drink that was now flat, when I finally saw my friend come back. Lance faded to the background and James sat down across from me, smiling. We didn't hug, but the look in his eyes was enough for now. I was so enraptured with looking at him that I didn't see the person walk by our table, stop, come back and stand there looking at me.
"Dave Young!" the person said, snapping my attention away from James. I looked at the source of the voice and smiled as I remembered my first meeting with this person.
"Who the fuck are you? Do I know you?" I said a little loudly. James jumped in his chair and stared at me like I was crazy. The person I was speaking to smiled broadly and responded.
"I'm Whoopi Goldberg, from LA. I just love your work!"
"Really, well I'm flattered. You take care of yourself!" I said, smiling.
"Hey!" Whoopi exclaimed, smiling as well. "I wasn't that abrupt with you. We talked for like five minutes. I know because I was late for my own speech!"
"You had a better time talking to me than you did with that speech." I replied with a smile.
"That's for damn sure. Move over, toots. I haven't seen you in ages and I think it's time to catch up." The table I'd chosen was half booth, with several chairs on the other side. James was sitting in one of the chairs, and I was in the booth, so I moved over and Whoopi sat down next to me. We were chatting amiably, with James just staring at me when another voice interrupted us. I groaned inwardly. I was going to have so much explaining to do later.
"Well, well, if isn't little Davey Young." The new voice said. I looked up from Whoopi's fascinating story about a project she was working on and saw Robin Williams standing there.
"Hey Robin!" I said. I actually was glad to see him again. "How's it going?"
"Not bad, Davey, not bad." Robin said with a smile. "How's life been treating you? It's been, what five years?"
"Yup, five years. Since Aunt Bev's big 45 birthday party." I answered him, remembering that party with a smile. I glanced over at James, who was coughing like he'd swallowed his drink wrong. Robin patted him on the back.
"Watch out there, Lance." Robin told him, then he turned back to the me. "So, Davey, how's that bitch of an Aunt of yours doing?"
"Oh, shit." I gasped. "I totally forgot you wouldn't know. She passed away six months ago."
"I am so sorry. She was a wonderful woman." Robin said, his face showing real concern. He had always liked my Aunt a lot and I felt guilty that no one in the family had called him.
"It was her time, Robin. She'd lived in that wheelchair for 25 years and her body ended up just giving out. I know that she always enjoyed life and especially enjoyed your friendship."
"Well, she was the most lively person I've ever met." Robin said after a moment, then he brightened up a bit. "So, how's your mom doing? I'll never forget the look on her face when she recognized me in that elevator."
"I thought you'd never forget Aunt Bev running over your foot with her wheelchair?" I asked trying to distract him from that topic.
"Please, your mom was laughing was so hard I could never forget her. What's she up to these days?"
"Pushing daisies about three rows away from Bev." I couldn't help but respond with an unusual answer. It still hurt so I tried to laugh it off. "She passed away about three years ago."
"Okay, why don't I just put my foot in my mouth a little more." Robin said, his face a weird mixture of expressions.
"Don't worry about it, Robin." I tried assuring him. "It's been a rough few years for the family and I haven't been dealing with it to well."
"Well, you give me a call, you here?" He said in a comforting tone. "I'll invite you over with the family for dinner, catch up on everything, k?"
"Okay. I'll call sometime next week." I told him, hoping he'd forget.
"Good, if I don't hear from you, I'll go bitching to your Grandma. Uh, she is still alive isn't she?"
"Yeah, she is. I've still got both grandmas and my sister" I laughed. I glanced around at the other two sitting with me and now I was getting looks from both Whoopi and James. Robin excused himself saying he was due up on stage to start off the entertainment. James was just getting up too, I guess he had something to do backstage when another voice erupted.
"Jesus H. Christ! Dave Young, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for three months!" The new speaker said and I looked up at Luke Perry. James had stopped halfway out of his chair and just sat down, shaking his head.
"Heya Luke." I said, my heart dropping down into my stomach. From James' look I could tell he was upset. "Whatcha been looking for me for?"
"That damn script you wrote before you disappeared!" Luke was nearly shouting, attracting a lot of attention. Robin was standing by the backstage entrance and smiling weirdly.
"What about it?" I asked Luke while I heard James mutter `script?'. "The studio paid me for the options on it, then shitcanned it. It's been dead for eight years, I moved back home and went to college. End of story."
"Well, I kept a copy of it and showed it to someone I've been working with lately." Luke told me, a big grin on his face.
"Yeah? By the way, great job on Jeremiah. Love the show." I told him, trying to change the topic, but he was on a roll.
"Uh huh. Well, I showed your story to JMS and he liked it, wants to work on it some."
"Fine, he can get the options and make the movie. The contract's still valid. You don't need me." I said. A dream long dead was trying to work its way back into existence and I wasn't going to stand for it. I had a good job, I had security, I had retirement in 30 years.
"Well, he doesn't want to make a feature length movie." Luke said in a rush, getting really excited now. "He's talking about either a mini-series or series. We need to talk to you about that and re-work the contracts. You still own the concept and we can't change things without your permission. Remember, you kept most of the rights except for the movie rights."
"Luke, I haven't even thought about that story in years. I've got a life now and I'm not all that interested in the glitz out here."
"Look, I'm just saying talk to JMS." Luke was almost pleading now. I felt a poke in my ribs and turned to look at Whoopi.
"Who the fuck are you?" she asked me.
"What do you mean?"
"I meet you years ago in a hotel, and you're just a college boy showing some rubes he met a good time in San Francisco. Now I see you here, you have Robin Williams asking about your family, me sitting here yacking at you, Luke Perry trying to get you to consider a deal with an A-list producer, and boy band popstar over there looking thunderstruck. Like I said, who the fuck are you?"
"I'm just a guy who tried to make it in writing, failed, went back to school, got a good job in Phoenix with a local government and am living a normal life. Then this pop star tries to buy a house and my office won't let him move in. He calls, we chat, end up going to dinner and we become friends. He invites me out here for the weekend and I decided to say yes. I sure as hell didn't expect to see any of you or for any of you to even fucking remember me!" Okay, I was ranting by the end and pushed Whoopi out of the way. I went towards a side exit and stepped outside. James tried to follow me, but was intercepted by someone from backstage about an emergency. I saw what I was looking for right by the entrance and walked over to the guy who had his back to me.
"Hey." I mumbled softly. "May I bum a smoke off ya?"
The guy turned around mumbling an affirmative answer and we both stared at each other in shock. Inside I was swearing. This was just a little charity event being thrown by some comedians and some music people. What was every damn person I knew in Hollywood doing here?
"Heya Chad." I said as he handed me a cigarette. I'd quit smoking years before, but well, when I got stressed I still lit up.
"Damn, Davey, it's good to see you." Chad Allen told me, stepping up and giving me a hug.
"Yeah, it's good to see you too." I mumbled.
"What are you doing here?" He asked me.
"Friend brought me." I answered simply, taking a drag on the smoke and trying not to gag.
"And who is this friend?"
"Lance Bass."
"Oh, is he, uh...?"
"No, we're just friends." I told him. Sure, Chad was out, and he was in the business, but I'm not going to out James to anyone.
"So, you seeing anyone now?" Chad asked. The question was totally unexpected and it took me moment to answer.
"Uh, no not really." I told him. I had just met James and wasn't going to presume that we were `together' yet.
"Do you remember what you said to me the last time we met?" Chad asked, stepping closer until we were separated only by the thinnest margin of air.
"Y...yes." I stuttered. Boy did I remember. I had such a big crush on him, but he was taken at the time.
"Well, we're both single now. How about we go out some time?" he asked, his voice getting husky.
"Uh, I'm not living in L.A. I'm living in Phoenix. I'm just here for the weekend."
"So? It's not that far away." He said, then he decided to try to persuade me a little more. That's the only reason I can think of for him to wrap his arms around me and kiss me. Naturally that is when the flash of a camera filled the alleyway and the sound of a running photographer began to echo. We both broke up laughing.
"Why is it that every time I see you, you get your picture snapped kissing a guy?" I said, laughing it out.
"I don't know, but at least this time it was you I'm kissing." Chad gasped out through his own laughter.
"Chad, here's my card. Give me a call sometime and we'll get together. But not a date, k?" I told him as I handed him one of my business cards from my wallet. He looked at and then put it in his own wallet.
"Sure, sure. I can understand why you might want to take things slowly." Chad said, just as a band flourish could be heard inside.
"Look, I have to get back to my table." I said.
"No problem, I'll call you soon." He said. We made our way back inside and I headed to the table I'd been at previously. James was back, sitting on the booth side with two other men. I scooted into the booth next to him and he sniffed, then gave me a dirty look.
"Only when stressed" I whispered. The two other men were looking at us now and James introduced them as Dmitri Arponov and his translator Sergei Goroyev.
"Zdrastooyeta." I greeted Dmitri, shaking his hand. "Menya zavout David Jacobovich Young."
"Zdrastooye." He said warmly and then proceeded to introduce himself Russian style, with his patronymic. We talked amiably in Russian for a bit, then the music began to die down, and Robin Williams came up on stage.
"Good evening everyone. Welcome to the annual Silent Auction for the Children's Fund. It's really great to see everyone here this evening. We've got a lot of entertainment lined up, but don't forget why we're here. The items for auction are all lined up on the back wall. Be sure to bind on at least one, and bid high!
"Now, when I said it was really great seeing everyone, I really meant it. I've gotten to see a lot of people that I haven't seen in a long time. Now, one of them isn't really a Hollywood type, or at least that's what he says. From the number of people here who seem to know him, I'm not so sure. In fact, let me ask you, how many people here know Davey Young? Raise your hand if you do."
As he said this, in his usual rapid speaking pattern, I started to shrink down in my chair. When he said my name, he also pointed to me and a spotlight hit me. The glare of the light blinded me so I couldn't see how many people raised their hands. There was about three hundred people here tonight. Unfortunately, Robin decided to count out the hands he saw, one of which was the guy sitting next to me, James.
"Okay, we got Lance Bass there, he was the guy who brought him, oh, is that Chad Allen raising his hand? And Luke Perry. Jason Priestly, Brian Austin Green, Billy Crystal. Charlie? Heya kid, good seeing you. Ian, too? Okay let's count `em out here. Looks like we got 23 total, then you add me and Whoopi who's backstage you get 25."
"Lance Bass, did you know that this guy knew so many people in Hollywood? No. Well, let me tell all of you, I've known him longer than anyone else here."
"No!" I didn't realize I'd shouted that aloud.
"Oh, yes, you little devil. Everyone's going to get to know you now." Robin said from the stage and I shrunk down further in my chair, only to be pulled back up by James, who was grinning for some weird reason. His whispered `calm down' didn't help much either.
"Well," Robin continued from the stage. "Let's see, about fifteen years ago I was up in Lake Tahoe working on a film. They had me staying at Harrah's so I come back from day of work, get in the elevator to get back to my room. Now, the elevator was crowded by these three women, and yes three women can crowd an elevator. One of them was about 5'3 and barely weighed a hundred pounds. Another was older, in her fifties but she wasn't fat either. The third woman took up the rest of the space. At least her wheelchair did. No, she wasn't fat either, but she was in a big ass electric wheelchair that hogged up all the space. Now, you know me, but I decided to go ahead and hold my tongue.
"Alas, that wasn't to last. It figures that the damn elevator would break down. The person on the emergency phone said it would be at least twenty minutes. When I told this to the ladies, the gal in the wheelchair started laughing.
Why are you laughing?' I asked her. I could think of worse things than being stuck in an elevator with Robin Williams.' She said. "Yep, they'd figured out who I was. We spent the next 2 hours talking. Yes, it took them two hours to get us out of that elevator. The entire time, the older lady, Nina, kept saying You, you're Popeye'. I remember thinking, great, of all my movies THAT is the one she remembers. What was worse, the small petite lady, Cindy, she kept on going Nano, Nano" So I had Dave's Grandma calling me Popeye, and Dave's mom reminding me of that damn television series I did. The lady in the wheelchair, Bev, told me how she had been disabled in an accident ten years before. Let me tell you, after she told me about that she told me about all the things she did to keep herself busy. Now, both my legs and both my arms work, hers didn't, but she kept herself as busy as I was at the time! Needless to say, I got to know them pretty well. I even offered to take Bev skiing. I told her we could slap some skis under the wheels of her chair and push her down hill. Of course I had no idea how'd she stop, but we could deal with that problem later. Well, they finally got the elevator working and Bev was the first one out. She put her wheelchair into high and zoomed right on out...right over my foot!
"About a half hour later, I went back downstairs to meet some people for dinner and was limping, yes, limping through the casino. That woman's wheelchair fucking hurt! So I'm limping towards the restaurant and I hear this kid laugh and say real loud `Hey that guy walks like Aunt Bev ran him over in her wheelchair!' Naturally I had to stop and chat with this kid, and the three others with him. It turns out that was the first time I met Davey Young, his sister April, Bev's son Bryan, and their cousin Michelle. Let me tell you something I learned from them, though.
"The entire family was middle-class. Bev lived with her mother, her husband, and her son. The husband worked in a winery, the mother worked in a cannery, and Bev got some income from Social Security. Despite being confined in a wheelchair, she went skydiving, made it to at least 4 Superbowls that I know of, a couple of World Series, and many trips to Lake Tahoe, Reno, San Francisco, and California. In between these trips, she spent her time organizing charity drives, fundraisers and numerous other projects helping other people. Confined to a wheelchair, limited by a lack of money, she managed to give back to the world so much more than she got. We're here tonight to have a good time, but also to raise money for a worthwhile cause. Remember the generosity of Aunt Bev, who passed away a few months ago, and give. Now, on with the show!"
Robin went on to announce the first band, which wasn't James'. That was a good thing because I'd almost broken down and tears were starting to dribble down my face. I felt an arm around me, and could smell James' cologne as he hugged me from the side.
"I wish I'd gotten to know her." He said simply, and it was enough. I straightened from the slight slouch I was in and smiled at him. The return smile he gave me was so nice. The rest of the night passed in a pleasant blur for me. Robin came back and we chatted for a while, as did Whoopi. Luke stopped by, and did Chad. Fortunately neither of us mentioned our conversation outside. Throughout the night, old acquaintances would say hi, and many more people came up to talk to James. I enjoyed practicing my Russian with Dmitri and Sergei, and found myself actually enjoying the company. Before I knew it, the shows were over, the auction done (yes, it broke a record!), and I headed home with James.
We were both exhausted and the drive back was a quiet one. We entered his condo, and stood in the hallway for a few moments just looking at each other. Finally we hugged each other, said goodnight (even though it was three a.m.) and went to our separate bedrooms. I had no sooner laid my head down then it seemed I was being shaken awake.
"Wake up, sleepy head." James was saying softly into my ear.
"Sleep more" I mumbled into the air.
"No, it's almost 1 p.m. already." James said sternly. I sat bolt upright at that point, naturally banging my head into James'. We both collapsed on the bed and started laughing.
"Next time give me some warning." He said between laughs.
"Try watching where you put your head!" I retorted.
"C'mon, we got four hours until our flight. I need to get some stuff done today and I want you to come with me." He said insistently.
"Okay, okay. I'm going, I'm going." I grumbled as I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.. Forty minutes later, I was ready to get dressed and went back into the room. The first thing I noticed was that James had already packed my bags for me. The second thing I noticed was another set of new clothes hanging on the closet door. They had a hand-made sign pinned to them that said `Wear ME'.
My first reaction was anger. Sure, last night had been fine because it was for a special occasion. But this? I wasn't looking at being a boy toy to hang off of the arms of Lance Bass and look pretty. Then I remembered the one thing I'd bid at the silent auction...and that no one else had been on after me. It was actually really nice, and my bid was a large part of my savings, but I was surprised that none of the big spending Hollywood types had bid outbid me. UPS would deliver it to his new house next week. Maybe he got these clothes for the same reason that I had bid on that item.
Having calmed down and thought my way through this problem, I took the clothes off the hanger and tried them on. They fit perfectly of course (he must have gone through my wardrobe to get my sizes) and looked good on me. He was definitely a better shopper than I was. I grabbed my bags and walked out into the living room. James was reading some newspaper so I snuck up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I was surprised at how he stiffened and the wetness on his cheeks until I looked at what he was reading. It was one of those Industry tabloids and the front page headline sent shivers down my spine.
WHO IS DAVEY YOUNG?
Last night's charity ball was abuzz with this question. Headliners Robin Williams and Whoopi Goldberg both mentioned him during their introductions, with Robin Williams giving a glowing tribute to the unknown man's family. Numerous stars either knew him or knew of him. He came to the event as the guest of NSYNC's Lance Bass, but was seen with many other stars including Luke Perry, Jason Priestly, and as pictured below appears to be on intimate terms with out star Chad Allen. So, we ask, just who is this guy and what will he be doing in tinseltown?
I stopped reading at that point and looked at the center picture. Sure enough it was that stupid picture taken in the alley when Chad kissed me. He had his arms around me and we were lip-locked. You could see both of our profiles real well. There was another picture of me that had been taken at the table with James, Whoopi, and Robin towards the end of the evening. James was looking at me and smiling in that picture.
"You...you wouldn't even give me a chance before you ran off after another guy." James was sobbing now, and pushed his way out of my grasp. I stood for a moment, staring at the now discarded paper before running out the door after him.
"James, wait!" I shouted as he took off in the SUV. I saw a blond head heading my way from a few doors down and turned just in time to see Christina's arm as she swung. Her blow knocked me to the ground, and I could feel the thump from the newspaper she threw at me.
"I wasn't going to say anything to Lance about what happened between you and Rob eight years ago, but I see some things never change, you fucking slut!" She stormed off, leaving me on the ground as tears came to my eyes and I felt the sobbing begin.
Well, I think this is a good place to end the story...
Gotcha!
Look for a new chapter soon.
Yes, we all hate cliffhangers as readers, but as a writer, I LOVE `em. This chapter is dedicated to the absolute best Aunt anyone could wish for. Yes, she did meet Robin Williams in an elevator with my mother and my grandmother. Yes, she did all the things that I wrote about, and even more, and yes she passed away last October. I miss her and love her a lot. For those wondering, she was rear ended by a cement truck on a foggy morning in 1975. She was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown through the windshield, breaking her neck on the sidewalk curb. She lived for 22 years, 1 month as a quadriplegic, crippled from the neck down. She was also the most daring, fun, loving, and adventurous person I've ever known. One thing I learned from her: There is no such as limitations except those you accept or impose upon yourself. Oh, yeah and wear your seatbelt!