Destiny (Waiting for Forever) (23 page)

“Are you still looking for a job?” Mike asked. Sighing, I nodded. Over the past few weeks, I had gone back out and knocked on the door of every business I could find, even trying to file for unemployment, but because Kenny had paid me in cash, I didn’t qualify. There were simply too many people in San Diego and not enough jobs for all of them.

“Brian, do you think I’m a whore?” Emilio asked, not lifting his head from my leg but continuing to run his fingers over my knee through my pajama pants.

“What? No, of course not,” I said, finally sitting up. He looked up at me with sad eyes.

“How about Mike, is he a whore? Garbage?” he asked, and I looked over at Mike. The man who had never failed to stand by me since I’d arrived in California, who had been my best friend for nearly a year, who would have done anything to help me stay in San Diego.

“No, Em, I don’t think that… at all.”

“Then why would you think that about yourself?” Emilio asked, shifting so he leaned against Mike’s knees with his hand still on my leg. “Don’t tell me that’s not what this is about, either, because after my first scene, I threw up for a solid week. You are doing what you need to in order to survive. You aren’t taking handouts. You aren’t breaking the law. Goddamn it, you aren’t hurting anyone—well, anyone except yourself right now.” Mike nodded in agreement.

“I just… I can’t stop worrying about what my mom will think when she finds out. It’s going to hurt her so badly,” I told them honestly, feeling a slight burn in my chest.

“Well, damn, Brian. No wonder you can’t keep it up on set, if you’re thinking about your mom,” Mike said with a completely serious deadpan expression. It took a few seconds for me to realize what he had said, and then I burst out laughing.

“There is something really wrong with you,” I said, hiccupping through giggles.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Now, go take a shower. We’re going out to dinner.”

“Fine, but—” I started and then paused.

“But?” Mike prompted.

“Could you hand me my phone?” He nodded and, after kissing me on top of the head and complaining that I smelled, got off the bed and pulled my phone out of the basket. They were just closing my door when I started to dial.

“Brian, oh thank God,” Carolyn said instead of a hello when she answered. “We called the house, and Leo said that you were there, but you wouldn’t answer your phone. I sent you e-mails and text messages. Honey, what’s going on?” she finished without even taking a breath.

“I… I’m okay,” I answered, not having any idea what else to say.

“Of course you’re not,” she said, and her voice sounded hard and rough. “If you were okay, you would have answered the phone or e-mail.”

“I can’t talk about it,” I whispered, my nerve failing me in that quiet admission.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed. “I can tell you’re scared, but there isn’t anything you can’t tell me. When I became your mother, I took everything, the good and the bad.” Then she tried another tactic. “You thought you couldn’t tell me you were gay, either, but I still love you.”

Several long minutes ticked by while she tried to wait me out, but my mouth just wouldn’t form the words.

“Brian, are you in trouble?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

I thought about that for several seconds before I answered. “Yes.”

“Okay, what kind of trouble are you in?” Her voice still sounded strong.

“I got laid off,” I said, trying to keep things as vague as I could.

“And you’re having trouble finding another job?” she asked. I didn’t want to lie to her, not after everything she and Richard had done for me, but I couldn’t tell her what kind of job I’d found. Instead, I said nothing.

“You found a job…,” she started, as if she was thinking out loud, but I didn’t confirm it. “Damn it, Brian, this is like pulling teeth. If you won’t tell me what’s wrong or how we can help you…,” she said in frustration, and then she went quiet. I didn’t dare say anything, because my confession was right there, rolling around on the tip of my tongue.

“Is there a good hotel nearby?” she asked suddenly, and the question was so unexpected that it startled me out of my painful thoughts.

“Sure, there are a few, why?” I asked, confused at the change in conversation.

“I’m coming out there.”

“Mom, that’s not necessary, please,” I begged. I couldn’t even think about her seeing the first floor of the boardinghouse. She couldn’t come out here; she would see that I had nothing, that everything was falling apart.

“You’re doing something you don’t think I’ll approve of. Is it illegal?” she asked, and my horrified mind was stuck on her coming out here, so I answered without thinking.

“Of course it isn’t.” Only after I replied did I realize I’d just told her I’d found a job she wouldn’t approve of. She waited, and the silence felt like a weight on my chest. “Mom, I have to go. Mike and I are going out to dinner, and I need to get dressed,” I said desperately.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. I don’t care what you think you can’t tell me, Brian. You are my son, and I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

I hung up the phone with the weight still pressing on my heart and headed for the shower.

“H
EY
,”
Mike said as he opened his door to let me in after I’d gotten dressed. My hair was still damp, and I felt it against the collar of my T-shirt.

“Hey,” I replied and walked over to sit on his bed. Mike was just starting to get dressed, and I wondered what had kept him occupied.

“You need to check your messages. Nick left you the details of your next shoot,” he told me, pausing in the act of pulling up his jeans to watch my reaction.

“I know. I listened to it while I got dressed. He wants to put me with Dylan. What about you?”

“I got Gabe. Man, that guy is built like a freaking linebacker. I’ve had one other scene with him, and I walked funny for the rest of the night. Dylan’s cool, though. I haven’t had a scene with him, but I’ve heard the guys talk about him around the house.”

“I wish it was with you or Em,” I said quietly.

“I think Nick wants to get you used to working with other guys. He doesn’t generally pair the same guys up more than a few times. He definitely doesn’t do it twice in a row. I’ve heard Dylan is a nice guy, quiet. You should like him.”

“Let’s just go out to dinner and get up. I don’t want to think about this anymore,” I told him as I stood up to walk to the door. “You promised me food and booze.”

“I didn’t say a word about booze,” he said with a laugh.

“There, you just said it, now let’s go.”

O
UR
shoots were scheduled for Saturday, and for the rest of the week, time seemed to be trying its best to torture me, slowly, steadily. I had followed up on a few job leads I had seen in the paper, but after a few phone calls and applications, I still hadn’t found anything. Mike had taken me out dancing Thursday night, but nothing had taken my mind off the day that loomed ahead, threatening to devour me.

I called my mom on Friday just to say hi because I felt guilty for scaring her. She had tried again to convince me to tell her what was wrong, but I couldn’t. The other guys in the house, while not exactly ignoring me, kept their distance. I didn’t know how many of them knew, but they certainly hadn’t messed with me about the porn.

Mike and I fooled around a few times, but neither my heart nor my body was into it. The idea that in a matter of days I’d have to have sex with some stranger distracted me and made me feel sick. After what seemed like months, Saturday arrived.

The sun rose just as any other day, but the tension was thick between Mike and me as we drove to the studio. When he parked the Jeep at the end of the drive, he told me again that I didn’t have to go in, but I knew I did. I refused to give up the life I had worked so damned hard for by being a scared little boy. If the guys in that house could strip on camera, I could too.

The house appeared to be deserted when we walked inside. No one sat in the living room playing video games, and the kitchen was empty, as was the back deck. As we came back through the kitchen, Mike saw a note on the counter that told everyone to go to the blue room for a quick meeting before shooting started, so Mike and I hurried upstairs.

Brandon, Taylor, Josh, and a few other guys I didn’t know sat around waiting. Brandon and Josh were reclined on the large bed while Taylor and another guy were sitting on a couch off to the side. Two other guys were standing next to the couch, and I wondered quietly which one was my scene partner. After a few minutes, Nick came in.

“Hey, guys, glad you could all make it,” Nick started, but then looked around quickly. “Where’s Dylan?”

“He’s lying down in the green room. He’s not feeling very good,” Brandon answered with a slight hesitation

“How bad is it?” he asked, and Brandon shook his head slightly. “God damn it, I told O’Dell not when he needs to shoot.” Nick left the room, and I looked at Mike.

“Some guys in porn have managers that book their shoots and stuff. Me, Brandon, Josh, we don’t, but Dylan does. The guy is a real piece of work, and sometimes when he doesn’t get his way, he… he hits the kid,” Mike said, looking at his shoes. I looked around and saw that the rest of the guys were looking everywhere but at me. They were just going to let it happen?

Mike must have guessed what I was thinking. “Hey, just let it go,” he warned quietly. “O’Dell is one scary guy. We’ve seen him carry a gun in here a few times. Nick makes him leave it in the car, but you do not want to mess with that.”

Nick walked back and grabbed a sheet of paper next to the camera. As we watched, he scratched out a few things and scribbled in others. The anger had not left his face.

“Okay, we’re going to give Dylan until the afternoon. I’ll take Gabe, Taylor, and Josh first, then Brandon and Corey will shoot with Scott and Dylan. We’re scheduled to shoot in here today, so if you’re not Gabe, Taylor, or Josh, go find something else to do until you’re called.”

As we walked out of the room, leaving those guys behind so they could shoot, that sick feeling returned to my stomach. I didn’t know if I could do it again, especially in a group like that.

The first hour I sat out by the pool, watching the water as Mike tried to tell me it would be okay. After I took off my shoes, I sat on the side and leaned back while the sun warmed my skin, almost forgetting about the shoot and the boy recovering from his beating upstairs. When the first group of guys came down, Taylor sat with me. He didn’t say anything but let his feet dangle in the water with mine.

Another hour passed, and still we waited.

Finally, Brandon came outside and told us they were ready. I took a deep breath and kept looking out over the water. My legs felt heavy after being in the water for so long, and I had to force them to work as we headed for the stairs. The door to the green room remained firmly shut as we passed it and entered the blue room farther down the hall.

“Brandon, you want to go let Dylan know we’re ready?” Nick asked as Mike and I entered the room. I went over to the bed, dropped my shoes on the floor, and put them on. Mike told me that Nick liked his models to strip completely during a scene, which meant they had to start out fully clothed, including shoes. When I looked up, two new guys had entered the room.

The first had his back toward me, and I could tell immediately it was the boy they’d been talking about. His clothes were baggy and his shoulders hunched as he stood silently near the door. A large beefy hand rested on the back of the kid’s neck, pulling him harshly forward, while a much larger man spoke low in his ear. When the man allowed him to straighten, I saw that the boy’s short, pale hair looked almost shaved and he had an awful gash on the back of his head just above his neck.

What happened next took me a minute to understand because I’d never seen it before.

The man, who must have been O’Dell, held something out to the kid as they talked in low voices. Dylan put his hand up to his face and sniffed, almost like he had a cold. At first, I was concerned because I didn’t want to shoot with the guy if he was sick, but as I saw O’Dell, the one with the long, greasy ponytail and scary black eyes, put a bag of what looked like white powder in his pocket, I got it.

He had just given the boy drugs.

I could feel my mouth open in shock, and I grabbed Mike’s arm to ask him about it when suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. The boy had turned around and taken a step forward, coming closer to the bed. When his eyes met mine, I swear to Christ my heart stopped. He had easily lost twenty pounds, and his beautiful hair had been cut brutally short. The piercings in his ears were new, as was the bruise on his temple, but those eyes, the ones I would have known even better than my own, were empty and dead. I had to force myself to take a breath.

It was Jamie.

Part Two: Fallen Angel Jamie’s Story

Fourteen