Man of the Year (13 page)

“It’s good,” I nod in a way that acknowledges how grateful I am to him right now.

“It’ll be ok, sugar,” Chad whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek.

“Thank you,” I mouth to him when James turns around and rubs my back.

My award-winner nuzzles into my hair and kisses just behind my ear. “I love you, baby,” he whispers to me, “and you look so beautiful that I hope the camera gets a shot of you so everybody who watches on TV can see my beautiful girl.”

I look into his eyes and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek, not able to bring myself to kiss his lips yet. It’s just too uncomfortable after watching that clip.

“And the winner is … Tara Morgan!”

Well, this is going to be lovely
.

Tara takes the stage in a swirl of slutty megalomania and flicks her tongue over the microphone as the crowd cheers.

“Fuck yeah!” she giggles. “First off, I’d like the thank everyone at Sin Cinema. You guys are fucking awesome! I want to thank every guy whose dick I’ve sucked in this business. A lot of you are in this room right now and I think we can all agree that I’m the best.”

Loud applause.
I’m sure your family is proud that their little girl grew up to be this year’s best cocksucker.

“Most of all,” she says in that annoying baby voice all these girls seem to think is sexy, “I’d like to thank James motherfucking Langdon for having the best cock in the business!”

James chuckles and I feign laughter.

“I know you’re leaving us, but you can still have my mouth anytime you want, baby!” she grins.

Fucking bitch!

She walks backstage and James turns to me to give me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that. You ok?” he asks.

“Peachy,” I roll my eyes.

He chuckles and plants a soft kiss on my furrowed brow. “Don’t worry about Tara. She was just trying to get attention. Other girls won’t say shit like that,” he sweetly responds.

“I know,” I nod. “She’s just … irritating.”

“She just wishes she was you, that’s all,” he smiles. “Because she knows you’re beautiful and smart and you don’t have to seek validation for your whole life by sucking somebody’s dick.”

Your dick, James! She got the award for sucking your dick!

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll get over it,” I reply.

“Good, because she doesn’t fuckin’ matter, so don’t let her matter,” he says and touches his forehead to mine. “And, for the record, Lo, you are seriously unbelievably hot and I’m guessing a lot of these girls are hella jealous.”

I giggle at his ego-boosting compliment and he kisses the tip of my nose and turns back to the stage.

He’s trying. He wants me to feel comfortable and he wants to reassure me that this is all in the past for him and that I’m his future. I believe him … pretty much.

There are a slew of gay categories next and I pat Chad’s back and give him a wink when they announce the Best Gay Duo Scene nominees. I feel like a hypocrite because watching his clip doesn’t bother me anywhere near as much. I have no problem with watching my friend have sex as part of his job, but I freak out when it’s my boyfriend—well, fiancé now. It’s not really fair and I know it’s my own weird hangup and it’s not James’ fault.

“And the winner is … The Pledge! Chad Rockwell and Kevin Wilde!” the presenters exclaim.

Chad gasps and Alejandro kisses him.

“Oh my God!” he beams, standing up from the table.

He makes his way up to the stage at the same time as his dashingly handsome co-star and both hug gleefully before taking their trophies. Chad looks breathless as he stares at it with a million megawatt smile.

“Holy shit!” he laughs, stepping to the podium first. “Wow, ok, first off, I’d like to thank Sin Cinema and Red Knight Productions for such a great collabo. Obviously, Kevin, I’d like to thank you for such a hot scene. I want to say I love you to my boyfriend, the amazing, fantastic, sexy Alejandro Carrera!” I applaud loudly at that.

Kevin takes the microphone and jokes, “Chad, I think I should thank your trainer for giving you that body!”

The room laughs and Chad lifts his shirt to give us all a peek at his stomach.
Yeah, Chad’s trainer definitely deserves a shout-out for that six-pack
.

“Thanks to everybody on set, to Red Knight and Sin Cinema and to everybody here tonight! You’re all beautiful!” Kevin concludes.

Everyone applauds and Chad disappears with Kevin backstage.

I turn to give Alejandro a glance, seeing if he’s as uncomfortable as I would be (and possibly will be if James wins Man of the Year) but he looks cool as a cucumber, as usual.

When Chad returns, Alejandro congratulates him and gives him a big, proud kiss. I wish I could be proud of James like that. I can’t decide if my reaction is normal or if I’m being a stuck-up prude. It's hard to get a gage on what normal is in this place.

“Congratulations, babe!” I say, kissing Chad’s cheek when he hugs me.

“Thanks, sugar!” he smiles.

“I loved your little peek-a-boo up there. You could wash clothes on that stomach,” I tease.

He throws his arm around me and kisses my cheek, giving me that playful growl I’ve grown so fond of. He sets the award down on the table and looks quite pleased with himself as we move on to the rest of the categories.

Ethan is the co-star in one of the nominated scenes for Best New Girl and again, I can’t help but look over at him when his clip rolls. What can I say? The man is good at what he does. In fact, his style reminds me a lot of James, the same finesse and fluidity, but Ethan’s clips are slightly less spectacular because he doesn’t have that powerful size of James—and I’m taking about stature, not about what’s going on downstairs. A massive, Khal-Drogo-sized dude moving with such grace is more impressive than just a regular, handsome, buff guy doing it.

Ethan waits until James looks down at his plate before he gives me a little wink and tilts his glass to me.

I giggle as quietly as possibly, not wanting to alert James to the flirty exchange I’m currently having with his nemesis. Sure, Ethan might want to get in my pants, but he’s harmless. He knows I’m not that kind of girl and he’s just being playful, so there’s no malicious intent. In other words, he’s not like that horrible Tara Morgan.

We get to the Best Female-Friendly award and I down another glass of champagne.
Take a deep breath, girl. If you make it through tonight, you’ll never have to do this again.

They shuffle through clips of various people I met last night boning other people I met last night and, thankfully, the clip with James isn’t last this time, left to linger like a fart in an elevator.

James’ scene is with Amber, who smiles proudly at him when they show the clip. It’s from Collared, their enormously successful video. Everyone at the table acknowledges what a rarity it is for a bondage video to also score the more romantic nom, so I just nod in agreement like I have some kind of insight into this strange business.

Of course, when they announce the winner, it’s James and Amber.
Fan-fucking-tastic.

Amber goes up to accept the award and also makes a statement about the female-friendly bondage thing. She says that it was the best time she’s ever had on set and that she’s not surprised that Collared is up for so many awards tonight because everybody put their hearts and souls into it.
Among other things
, I snarkily think to myself.

James and Amber also win for Best Boy/Girl and she again accepts the award. Usual protocol is for the girls to take the podium, since the guys are basically props, and I’m just thankful that I don’t have to watch James get up there and thank everybody for the wonderful time he had fucking someone else.

I’m a bit freaked out as I look around and see that everyone is tossing back booze and getting a lot … well, looser. There are guys with cameras running around everywhere to get closeups for the broadcast and the people in this audience sure know how to put on a show.

A girl at the table next to us flashed her boobs when they shot a closeup of her. A guy at a table behind us started licking his date’s breasts when they cut to them. People are making out—and I’m not talking kissing, I’m talking
making out
. Others are fondling each other. Two girls that aren’t even near the cameras just started groping each other for the entertainment of their table and I’m pretty sure the girl at the table on the other side of ours is giving her date a handjob right now. I feel like we’re teetering on the precipice of an orgy and I’m doing my best to shut all of this out and concentrate on something less lascivious.

James’ scenes win for Best Threesome and Best Bondage, with the girls accepting each time and Amber saying what a great Dom James is when she accepts the bondage award.

I’ve had a pretty decent amount of champagne at this point, and I’m glad that I have by the time they announce the next award. Best Anal. Another nomination for James.

“Why don’t you just look at me while they show these clips?” Chad sweetly whispers in my ear. “I get the feeling that you’re a little worn down by all this.”

“Do I look as bad as I feel?” I ask him.

“No, you look beautiful, but I can tell that you’re not too thrilled with this whole scene,” he answers, pretending to be checking my lipstick when James gives us a quick glance.

“I don’t want him to know that I don’t like it,” I say very quietly. “It’s his night and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Chad gives me a smile that says he doesn’t exactly approve of that plan, but he shrugs in acceptance. “Well, there aren’t too many more awards, so it’ll all be over soon.”

Kayla Grey wins for Best Anal, a scene she shot with James, and she thanks him profusely in her speech, though without the malignity that Tara was putting out there.

I don’t even bother looking up when they play the Best Double Penetration clips. I’ve seen enough at this point. Surprise, surprise, James’ scene wins again. I’ve zoned out. I don’t really want to think about anything but this champagne, which seems to be taste better with every sip.

Finally, they get around to Man of the Year. It’s taking everything in me to act proud and excited, but I know that I need to because this is the big one and it’s really important to James.

They play the clips and I go to a happy place, looking away from the screens. I hear the pants and moans of the girls on screen and I try to picture flowering fields, ocean breezes, kittens and rainbows—sweet, G-rated things that stop me from dwelling on the fact that my boyfriend is king of the sex workers.

There are three camera guys at our table, a sure sign that someone seated here will take home the title. Across from us, Ethan looks hopeful but nervous as his scene flashes on the screen. I do my best to keep my expression somewhat blank, knowing that it’s highly likely my face will be visible in the closeup of James. The last thing I’d want is for everyone to see that I’m borderline queasy from the taxing events of this whole evening.

Everyone is quiet as they open the envelope.

“James Langdon!”
Of course! Of course it’s James!

He turns to me with a huge, proud smile and my heart breaks that I can’t be happy for him. I want to, I really do, but I feel like I’m swimming in a shark tank while clad in Lady Gaga’s meat dress.

He brushes my hair over my ear and tenderly kisses me before he gets up and makes his way to the stage. The cameras stay focused on me and I put on my best smile, which seems to be convincing enough.

“Man, this is so crazy,” James sighs into the microphone. “I have wanted to win this award since I got into the business. This is, like, the ultimate.”

Everyone in the room is listening closely and they all look genuinely happy for him, so I try to shake off all my negativity and pay attention.

“A lot of people have asked me why I’m leaving the industry—and I’d imagine a lot more people are gonna ask now that I’ve won this,” he says, gripping the award. “I decided to leave because I have something more important than any scene, any award, any trophy I could ever win. I have the love of the most wonderful woman on the planet and that’s really my greatest accomplishment.”

There’s a collective “aw” from the crowd and I swallow hard. It’s so sweet, but it’s under such bizarre circumstances.

I’m reminded of Lisa Marie Presley at the 1995 MTV Video Music Awards. She was there with then-husband Michael Jackson, but there was a swirl of behind the scenes drama with the pair at the time. When Michael got up to do his performance—which was spectacularly awesome—they cut to a shot of her in the crowd. The expression on her face was less than enthusiastic, to say the least. I remember thinking she was a downer because she wasn’t happy for him, but I was a kid and I had no idea that they’d been having major marriage problems for a while. Anyone watching at home tonight would never understand the emotional toll this evening has taken on me and I don’t want people to look at me and think, “Wow, James’ date is so ungrateful.” The broadcast will be out there forever and I have to give the appearance of a proud fiancée.

“I want to say thank you to everyone in this room,” James continues with heartfelt sincerity. “You guys have all been so great to me and I consider you guys like family. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't gonna miss you all, but it’s just time for me to move on. Thank you to everyone I’ve ever worked with—seriously everyone, every camera guy, every makeup artist, every lighting dude and director. I love you guys! Thanks!” he concludes.

Chad holds my hand under the table. “See? That was sweet,” he says cheerfully.

“Yeah,” I smile unconvincingly.

“He loves you so much, sugar,” he says. “I know this is hard, but just think, by tomorrow, all this will be behind you and it’ll just be you and your man.”

“I know,” I nod. “I just need to get through tonight and everything will be ok.”

“By the time you wake up, he’ll be all yours. None of these girls stand a chance!” he says with a wink.

I laugh and he rubs my back while the hosts do a little banter. A few minutes later, we look up to see James returning to the table with the widest smile I’ve seen in ages.