SECOND TOUGHEST IN THE INFANTS by Kai Wailbone
Author's note: IMPORTANT - SO YOU UNDERSTAND, this particular chapter is written from the FIRST PERSON PERSPECTIVE. This is the first time I'm doing this in the story, but it might not be the last. I'm just trying to see how well it goes...
WARNING - This chapter contains sexual situations which are explicitly an abuse of power, namely between an older man and younger (but of majority age) boy. Those of you with issues are forewarned.
For Andrew, if you're still reading this - drop me a line, cool?
DISCLAIMER FOR CHAPTER TWELVE-B
This is a work of fiction. The characters are fictional, though their names and descriptions are similar to real people. These real people are depicted with character traits, past histories, and sexualities that ARE NOT MEANT TO IMPLY ANYTHING about their real-life counterparts.
Do not take this (the story) seriously. Please.
The title is from the Underworld album "Second Toughest in the Infants." The chapter headings are from lyrics and song names.
Second Toughest in the Infants Chapter Twelve - Resonator (Part 3.2)
"In my place with lines that I couldn't change I was lost..."
- Coldplay, "In my place" ___________________________________
Erik never believed me. Not that I can blame him - Erik always thought of himself as more an outsider, anyway. Which, when I think about it, is probably why I made sure to make him feel welcome and included - a feeling of mutual exclusion.
It's all bullshit, I know, but... it helps to rationalize these kinds of things, sometimes.
Anyway, Erik didn't believe me. And Aaron, Keith, and Paul... we had a secret. It was an imperfect secret, since everyone knew, but everyone kept it, too. Everyone but Erik, who didn't know and was in complete denial.
It was about a week and a half into the final auditioning. Every day another guy was called in with a private appointment with Lou, presumably so he could get to know us better. Which, in a way, was true...
He was always such a nice guy to us, coming over with presents, laughing at our jokes, and always poking fun at the industry that he himself helped to create. At first, it was like having a long-lost rich grandfather who wanted to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases he'd missed. Sometimes, out of the blue, he'd pick a random bunch of guys (later, I'd learn we weren't so "random") and take us out to a bar, or a club, and everything was paid. Or we'd go out shopping, and he'd let us get whatever we wanted. It really was great, and after my own initial guilty feelings, I really enjoyed it.
So when he told me he wanted to see me on a Wednesday just before lunch, I thought nothing about it. I was even kind of looking forward to it, because... well, back then he and I hung out all the time. You remember that? Probably not, I didn't know you very well back then... but yeah, this was the guy who listened to all my dreams about becoming a big star, and instead of laughing, he really paid attention, and made some suggestions of what I could do along the way. It was as if he cared, and wanted to see all my dreams come true, too.
So that Wednesday I got into the car waiting for me - a black, shiney Lincoln limo. Not a stretch limo, but still enough room to relax, and a little divider between me and the driver. I had my discman with me, and was grooving to Korn's "Life is peachy" while we went down the road.
I remember to this day the first time I saw Lou's mansion. I've been to Washington, and got to see the White House, and I swear, Lou's house is bigger. It was one of those classic mansion houses, where you own not only your yard but the whole neighborhood. It was like walking onto the compound of some important dignitary. There were security cameras over the door, an an ID-card slot reader for the security guy to let me in... now I wonder about a guy who needs so much standing between him and some ambiguous threat, but then I just thought it was really cool.
About the first inkling I had that something was wrong was when I was called up to a second-floor patio, where Lou was sitting eating brunch, dressed in a dark red and black silk robe. The man in a suit who had led me to the room closed the door behind me, and I heard a lock being turned. Of course, paranoia hadn't even entered into my head yet, so I thought little of it at the time, and sat down quite calmly when Lou waved to the chair across from him.
It was getting close to the time I normally had lunch, so of course I was a bit hungry, and I accepted when he offered me something to eat. There were these French pancake-things with jam and syrup, egg sandwiches and sausages, delicate-looking pastries, and about four kinds of juice. I was piling my plate high with sandwiches and sausages when he started talking, but I was only half-listening since it was mostly what he'd said before.
I think that was the last time I was that hungry. I sort of lost my appetite completely after that.
He talked on and on about how great he thought someone as naturally talented and motivated as I was had come into this business, and under his supervision. And how he would like to see me become a success, at least as big as I wanted to become, if not more. And on, and on, and on... I can't remember everything he said, and quite frankly, I have tried to forget. But... I can't forget...
Sorry, I just...
It was hot in Florida... always is. Not that I'm not used to it, but... I was wearing my black Creed t-shirt and a pair of shorts. And sometimes, under the table, his bare leg would touch mine...
He said I would need to learn how to bargain with people. That it wasn't always about money. And that... that...
Sorry.
I don't like talking about this.
It's not that it was so bad... I guess... pretty much that first time all he did was...
He told me there were... OTHER considerations in the look of the band, and that he was going to be the sole judge of that. I... I don't know when you first picked up on it, but I sort of figured Lou was gay from the beginning, and the way he looked at us as we walked by, you could tell he liked the young guys. So when he said he wanted guys who were...
He wanted to make sure I had the right look. He had me take off my shirt, and... he asked first, of course, but I let him rub my stomach and chest... God, I remember thinking it wasn't so bad, that he just wanted to make sure...
Sorry, I can't....
It was my ass he liked. He was obsessed with it. He would sort of... rub it while he jerked off, with me bent over the couch or laying on the table or something. And I had to hear his breathing, getting faster, and no matter how tightly I shut my eyes and thought about something else, I couldn't shut out the sound of him getting louder and louder, until... well, you know.
Not that he didn't touch me anywhere else. In fact, most of the times he called me in, he would just have me sit on his desk, pants down around my ankles while he jerked me off, or, if he had the time, he would take off his glasses and...
Really, I think it would have been better if he had just been quiet. But his moans and breathing were always so loud...
He never asked me to touch him. No, well, he asked. But...
Yes, I touched him. Not that I wanted to. I...
He made it clear what would happen if I didn't. And I...
Dammit, I didn't want to! I still feel sick every time...
If you asked me... If you told me...
I don't know. If I had it all to live over, knowing what would be... ASKED of me...
Dammit, that asshole. He asked every time. I was twenty years old, I knew what was going on. He can never say he forced me to do anything. Shit, knowing him, he probably had video cameras somewhere recording the whole thing. Perfect alibi.
But seriously. Dealing with it? Hah, yeah right. Do you know how many times I've tried to just forget about it, to pretend it never happened? I swear, if it was a physical part of me, no matter how painful I would have slaughed it off a LONG time ago.
No, no, I never really contemplated suicide. I mean, not REALLY. Briefly, and in a sort of fanciful way, but... no. It didn't help that everyone seemed to know exactly what was going on, but wasn't doing a damned thing about it. As if everyone was in on the secret, but still didn't tell anyone. Even Jeremy knew, even though he was very insensitive about it at first... remember that? No, you probably don't...
I can't deal with it. Talking helped, that's for sure. I talked to Jeremy about it. And Trevor... Erik never believed me.
I remember once, he had me sitting on his desk, naked except for a basketball jersey, while he was on the phone. It was so... President-Clinton-and-Monica-sex-scandal type thing, y'know? As if he'd read about it and wanted to try it. There he was, making a deal for a balloon ride or something, jerking me off, and making these faces at me like we were just a couple of friends laughing at some idiot on the phone. It was actually kind of funny...
And the pictures. God, the pictures... it was as if he needed me half-in and half-out of every outfit known to man. And some of them... he had me looking like I was twelve years old in some of these things. Fucking pervert...
He never did threaten me with them. He joked occasionally about them leaking onto the internet and stuff, but that wasn't really a threat. Not that I think he went around showing people. I don't think so, at least. Heh... for all I know, he could be peddling them for thousands even as we speak.
His favorite was this baseball outfit, with the button-up pants. I swear, either he had it made for me or it was just really small, because it fit like... it left very little to the imagination. Sometimes he'd have me wear this jockey support strap, mainly because it had no real back to it, just two straps on either side of...
I know Jeremy says... well, he didn't SAY, but he very strongly hinted that Lou's done something like this with the Backstreet Boys, and that had something to do with their problems. I don't know... though it wouldn't surprise me.
What? No, he didn't force me. Not exactly. Jeremy said it was an abuse of power, and that's all that matters. I'm not so sure. I can't help wondering, you know, what was it about me that made him think he could do this to me. As if I radiated some kind of... energy or aura. Because I don't remember him calling many guys back for repeat sessions the way he called for me. Of course, that could be just me trying to be special, but... I remember all these guys going, and suddenly... it was just me.
It creeps me out to no end to think that he chose me for the band because he wanted to keep doing this. But it's been a while. Since that day he wanted to fuck me.
Shit... don't get me started on this. I don't want to talk about it.
Those damned cameras. In the shower. In the bedrooms. In the dressing rooms. He actually showed me a couple of his tapes. Asked me my opinion on some of them. I think he knew I was gay before I told anyone, even Jeremy.
He would talk to me, joke with me, about things I did in the shower... or the clothes I was picking out in the morning. He asked me to... do things... in the shower. Which I did. All the time knowing what he was doing at the same time...
How many times I just wanted to tear his eyes out, those pale, beady things as emotionless as the cameras watching. I swear, if I didn't know better than I ever wanted to know that he was human, I would say he was a machine himself.
Sometimes I think Lou is so rich, he not only knows God's unlisted phone number, but he paid Him off to look the other way a few times. Because God sure as hell didn't stop him from doing what he did.
I'm sorry, I... really am not handling this quite well at all.
You want to know the worst part about it? The part that makes me wake up in the middle of the night, only to dive deep under the covers? The part that makes me convulse in revulsion and shame?
There were times when I actually LIKED it.
I mean REALLY liked it.
Because... when it comes down to it, it's sex. And more than that, it's sex with a guy. The first time I ever had sex with another guy. And, in a way, it was kinda... exciting, you know? And for a while, I even wondered what it would be like, to sorta date him or whatever, and get everything when he died. Like a sugar daddy or something, right?
But then... it was that one night...
Remember that weekend when Lou came over to visit, and he sort of disappeared for a couple of hours, claiming he was talking to the producers? He was with me. In Brian's room. I remember because there was a picture of his mother that had gotten knocked off the dresser, on the floor right in front of me, and I stared at it the whole time.
Lou was on top of me, sucking on my balls, jerking off like mad. I swear, the bed was creaking and I was half-praying for someone to just walk in and catch us, and half-hoping he wouldn't stop because...
Then he says, "I want to fuck you." He said it all gurgly, as if he had his mouth full of something. And, in spite of that, I was so hot I might actually have let him. Then he says, "I want to break you in, boy. Turn you into a man."
Strange how your childhood ethics come back to haunt you at the most inopportune and ironic of times.
I was brought up Christian, with the ideal that you don't have sex... you know, lose your virginity... until you get married. Or at the very least, until you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And... I guess for guys, getting fucked up the ass pretty solidly says you're not a virgin anymore. And, quite honestly, losing my virginity, even if it was going to be with a guy, it wasn't going to with be Lou.
So, quite out of the blue, I said no.
It was... strange. He didn't get mad, at least at first. He was all like, "Okay, okay," and didn't do it. And when he was done and cleaned up, we went back down to join everyone again.
But things changed after that.
I can hate him sometimes. For making me... for ASKING me to do the things that I did. For manipulating me with my dreams and desires, telling me lie after lie after lie...
But most of all, for implying I wouldn't get chosen for the band, that I would never make it in the music industry, because of the one time I told him no.
I almost let him do it, that's how much I wanted this. I remember telling Jeremy about it, and he actually flew down - remember that? No... you weren't here, that's right. He flew down, scaring the living shit out of Jay when he showed up at the door, and refused to listen to anyone until after he'd spoken to me.
I'm not sure what happened. Jeremy... spoke to Lou, or something. All I know is that things changed, Lou stopped bugging me so much. No... he stopped talking to me altogether. I ignored him, he ignored me. Which was better than what it was before. In front of the cameras we barely managed civility, and I remember watching one of the finished episodes, how I managed to hug him in the old-granny style, with only my arms and shoulders touching him at any time.
To this day Jeremy won't tell me what he did. Even when he took me up to his place for a couple weeks. It must have been something big, because... I made the band, obviously. Lou left me alone... but Lou always hated Jeremy, even more than he normally did, after that.
Lies, lies, lies... that's all he told me. Messing with my head. Asking. Pushing. Prodding. And I let him. I guess I really am a bit of a pushover. And I...
I let him.
No matter how much he hurt me, I let him...
The past can be very difficult to face. Sometimes it's easier to pretend something else happened. Or that it didn't happen at all. Sometimes it's easier to believe a fairy tale.
That's what I'd like to do. To believe a story, a beautiful story, where that didn't happen. Where I... where we... didn't have to do stuff like that.
_____________________________________ Okay, that wasn't as rough as I at first feared it would be. No, I didn't get into explicit detail because, after all, this is Jacob telling the story, and... well, from personal experience, you don't go into detail about these kinds of things if you can help it. Yes, this was modeled after a similar conversation that I experienced first hand. Part vindictive, part self-blaming, part regretful... to those of you who have never been abused, you may not quite understand every twist and turn and need to tell certain parts, but hopefully it's realistic enough for you. -- Kai Wailbone wailbone@excite.com ____________________________________ Coming soon... Second Toughest in the Infants Chapter 12-C - Resonator (part 3.3)