Date: Sun, 2 Nov 2008 00:26:20 -0400 From: chris james <drmeta4@gmail.com> Subject: The Bridge to Anywhere, Chapters 9 & 10 Dear Reader: this story is adult fiction, the characters are a product of the author's imagination and nothing more. Persons under the age of 18 are not permitted to view the contents. The story of Alan Bennett, fashion model, continues. So many of you have written me with suggestions of how you would like to see the story develop and I thank you for the interest. But the plot is laid, the story written in my head, now I give it to you. As always your comments welcome. Thank you, Chris James drmeta4@gmail.com The Bridge to Anywhere (M/B) Chapter Nine The first thing Brandon noticed was the looks. At the Raleigh airport several of the waiting passengers gave Alan that look, they had seen him before. Fortunately Jack was beside them and the airlines hustled them off to the first class lounge within minutes of their arrival. For his part Alan didn't feel uncomfortable even though he felt the eyes upon him. "Those people recognize me," Alan whispered. "Yes, sweetie," Brandon replied. It would only get worse. The flight attendants seemed to know the boy as well, something to be expected. But they were discreet; it was all part of their job. Jack occupied a seat across the aisle and read a book while Alan dozed off; it left Brandon alone with his thoughts. Having a condo at their disposal would be a great convenience. He had no doubt that Theresa chose the place to make them feel at home. She had to know the boy would miss home very quickly and that keeping him happy was part of her job. Alan couldn't appear on Letterman in that Armani suit, it would seem presumptuous, over the top. The boy's appeal was in his laid back country boy image, that's what they needed to maintain, at least for now. The future clothing gigs Theresa had mentioned was intriguing. The story of young Willy Davenport popped into Brandon's head. The young model had been everyone's favorite star in the years before Brandon ever made the scene; the kid did just about everything back in those days. Kid stars were hard to handle, but not young Willy. And as the boy aged into his early teen years he adapted to the young adult roles he was required to play in commercials. But magazine and catalog modeling was still Willy's best chance at staying on top of the game. And then he did "that" layout for a large retail store catalog. The photographer must have been an idiot, or at least blind. By the age of thirteen Willy was still small, petite even, but not in all places. Willy was posed in briefs and it took little imagination to see that the boy was circumcised and pretty well hung. The kid was supposed to wear a cup, the rules dictated that much, but somehow the photo got through and Willy's cock went out to millions of households. As the story goes the photographer was having sex with the little brat. That much was probably true since Willy was a gay boy, but no one ever proved it. Of course there was a lawsuit, the photographer never worked in the industry again and millions of catalogs were recalled and replaced. It was quite a scandal in the business, and Willy? William Davenport went on to make gay porn; Brandon had met him several times. What he had hidden behind those white briefs was now out there in living color for all to see, if you like that kind of film. He was still a talented young man. There was no doubt that some clothing manufacturers would love to have Alan give them a sexy image, sex sells. But with Brandon behind the camera there would be no bulge, not even a ripple. The body poses might be suggestive but the crotch would never become a focus in anything he shot. LaGuardia once again, only this time Jack preceded them off the plane. Again Alan garnered a few looks as they stepped out into the chilly afternoon air. The limo was waiting in the no parking zone...and a surprise, Theresa was inside. "Theresa, what brings you here?" Alan asked. They kissed and hugged in greeting. "Have to keep my favorite boy star happy," She replied, and then she smiled at Brandon. "I want to be there when you see the new place." Jack and the driver tossed their bags in the trunk and sat up front. Theresa turned her attentions back to Alan. "I think you'll like this place, I chose it with you in mind. It's a secure building which will make you feel safe, but they have an inside swimming pool, a health club and even a restaurant, Italian of course," Theresa laughed. "Wow, cool," Alan said. "Thank you, Theresa," Brandon said. "So a busy week ahead," Theresa said. "Two clothing lines, one Italian and the other from China. Both of them are trying to break into the American markets and they want that image only you can provide. Nice thing is you will come off with a lot of free stuff from these guys. We'll have fun with these campaigns." "Any idea of their concepts yet?" Brandon asked. "Yes, the Italians want that sporty approach, they always do. It's going to be a spring campaign so we'll have to send you into warmer weather if we want any good production values at this time of year. California seems a distinct possibility. The Chinese are after the outerwear market; a little snow would work best for that...Vermont or New Hampshire maybe." "Sweet, I've never seen those places," Alan said. Theresa smiled. "Well I chose California so you and Brandon could have a little quality time at Disneyland. Would you like that?" That earned her a hug and Brandon just smiled. The vacation time would be appreciated, but he knew Alan would have to earn it. The limo was traveling up Fifth Avenue now; Central Park seemed denuded since the last time they were here. The car turned a corner and pulled into a driveway. Oh my, Brandon thought, a real classy address right on the park. No matter what Theresa said about a bargain, this location probably cost a fortune, but then it was a business expense after all. Jack got out and opened their door. A doorman came down the steps and smiled. "Ms. Stanford, we've been expecting you," The man said. "Is Mr. Arnold in the office?" She asked. "Yes ma'am, he'll be right out...won't you step inside, please." The doorman held the glass doors as they walked into the lobby. Brandon glanced around the large carpeted area. Not a new building, recently remodeled perhaps, but very well done. A bright smiling face approached, Mr. Arnold their manager he presumed. "Ms. Stanford...and you must be Mr. Clark and Mr. Bennett, welcome to the Greengate Condominiums. My name is John Arnold." "Mr. Arnold, did everything arrive?" Theresa asked. "Yes, Ms. Stanford. And here is your set of keys, one for each of you as requested. They work the elevator, the main and back doors of your residence. Just pick up any phone and dial nine, I will personally respond to your call. And this gentleman?" "This is Jack Abrams, our security consultant," Theresa said. "Oh yes, and this is the key to your apartment, Mr Abrams, its right across the hall from number sixty-four. May I show you to your new home?" Arnold said. He led them to the elevator as the driver and Jack managed their bags onto a cart and into the second elevator. A sign on the elevator wall showed that the pool and health club was on the eighth floor, there were fifteen floors in the building. They reached six and stepped off into a quiet well lit hallway. Arnold led them down the hall towards the end and slid his key into a set of double doors. Even before they opened Brandon knew what they would see. Theresa had remembered, they would have a grand view of the park and best of all, the zoo. The entrance hall was grand, a long wide room off which the rest of the apartment could be easily reached. Brandon was sure Theresa had overseen the decoration, tasteful and not overdone at all...early comfortable. Arnold led them down the hall straight to the living room and opened the drapes. From six stories up they had a grand view of the park and Alan seemed quite happy. "Enjoy your stay with us," Arnold said, and then he left them alone. Jack and the driver wheeled in their bags and left them in the hall. Jack looked at his key and smiled. "I'll be across the hall if you need me." "So what do you think?" Theresa asked. "If you have to be here then this is just a perfect place to live." "Yes, Theresa, you made a great choice," Brandon said. "Good. You boys get settled in and I'll call you later about our meetings. The Italians first, another lunch meeting tomorrow. Have fun, look around," She said. Alan gave her a big hug, a kiss and escorted her to the door. He was all smiles when she was gone. "This place is awesome...what did she mean look around?" "I don't know, let's go exploring," Brandon suggested. There were two bedrooms, a king sized bed in one, a computer and X-box gaming system in the other. The living room had a huge HD television and nice music system. But the kitchen was all new, and fit for a gourmet. Alan opened the refrigerator and gasped. "Wow, look at all this stuff." Theresa had stocked the whole kitchen, everything they would need for weeks. But they wouldn't have to cook unless they wanted to. A book of menus sat on the counter. The Italian place downstairs, two Chinese and one Thai place all delivered. There was even an ad for a grocery delivery service. That's what living in the big city would do for them. Brandon dragged their bags into the bedroom and opened the closet doors. "Whoa, Alan come look at this," Brandon said. Theresa had bought them clothing as well it seemed...warm stuff by the looks of it. But the walk in closet would hold everything they had and a lot more besides, it was big enough to serve as a garage. "OK, I get it...she's afraid we'll miss home," Alan said. "We will no doubt, but home will always be wherever we are, sweetie," Brandon said. Alan threw his arms up for a hug, and the kisses which followed soon led them to try out the bed. It was late afternoon before their lovemaking subsided, a pause in their ongoing passions. Both of them knew the sex would never end; it was a sign of their love, something that never seemed to wane, and something they both needed. They tried on the lined parkas Theresa had bought, and Alan discovered the label that said made in China. "You think this is part of that clothing line?" He asked. "Probably, pretty nice stuff," Brandon replied. "Yeah, but the color sucks," Alan laughed. They donned knit hats for the walk they planned; it was in the low thirties outside. Done up like this Alan's identity was concealed, but Brandon knocked on Jack's door to let him know what they were doing. "Do you need to come with us?" Brandon asked. Jack looked at the boy and shook his head. "No one will recognize him, but I have to go with you anyway. I could use some fresh air." The three of them rode down the elevator together. "How's your place?" Alan asked. "Good, all the comforts of home...well, except for Barry," Jack said. "Why don't you find someone to replace him?" Brandon suggested. "Theresa is going to be sending us on some long distance travel real soon; wouldn't you find our security a little easier to handle with the two of you along?" Jack smiled. "I was going to ask if that would be OK. I know some people that could guard your place very nicely if it's all right with you." "Yes, Jack. It seems like we're all in this together, I want you to be happy," Brandon said. Alan smiled. "Yeah, besides, Barry was going to teach me some of that karate stuff." He gave Jack a small punch in the arm and then immediately looked astonished. "Lord, Jack...you're muscles are hard as a rock." "We'll have to spend some time in that health club upstairs, got to keep that young body of yours in shape...the both of you for that matter," Jack said. "Sounds like a plan," Brandon said. The park was down the block and across the street. The zoo entrance was several blocks south and the museums began a few blocks to the north; the condo was in an excellent location. They wandered the pathways surrounding the ponds and watched the ducks scrambling for crumbs of food. New York was full of noise, a far cry from the peace and quiet of their southern home. Traffic sounds and distant sirens managed to intrude even in this peaceful setting, but the chilly air felt refreshing. Jack followed along until Alan encouraged him to walk beside them. "You must have seen a lot in the military," Alan said. Jack smiled. "Too much, unfortunately. My outfit was always the first on the ground, and most of it was covert. But we made friends with a lot of the locals unless they were shooting at us." "You and Barry served together?" Brandon asked. Jack laughed. "Not in the same outfit. We met on a rescue mission. That would be me pulling his ass out of a bad situation. We both got a break after that mission, got to know one another a little better. "Barry figured me out first and then came out to me, a pretty brave thing to do while on active duty, but that's him all the way. That was all six years ago. We stepped out of uniform at about the same time, started the security business and have been together ever since. No end to this story." "Where's home to you?" Alan asked. "Lots of places. My family is in Ohio, Barry's is in Texas. We travel a lot, makes the job exciting." "Will that apartment be big enough for the two of you?" Brandon asked. "Lord yes, it's got everything and just one bed," Jack laughed. "You guys are being really nice to me, I have to thank you." Alan put an arm around Jack's waist and gave him a bump. "Gay people are all family, Jack. Brandon and I really believe that." "Yeah, I am just beginning to understand that myself. My parents still don't know about me or Barry for that matter. No sense in telling them something they don't want to hear." Alan had rosy cheeks by now and Brandon didn't want the boy to get sick so they headed home. "You be sure and call Barry when you get back," Brandon said, "I'll square it with Theresa." "Hey, you like Italian food?" Alan asked. "Come have dinner with us." Jack smiled. "If you go down to the restaurant I have to be there anyway. But yes, I'd like that, especially if they have good linguini." Brandon smiled as the two talked Italian food all the way back. The doorman held the door as they moved into the welcoming warmth of the lobby. The restaurant had an entrance off the lobby and Brandon wondered how they kept the place secure. He shouldn't have worried, the door had access to the restaurant, but a key was needed to get back into the lobby. "You hungry now?" Brandon asked, it was already five-thirty. "Yeah," Alan said. "Fine with me," Jack answered. "Never was much for all that late night eating." "I suppose we're dressed up enough, let's see what we have to do to get in," Brandon said. They pushed through the door and were met by a nice gentleman. "We're new tenants," Brandon explained. "Do we need reservations?" The man smiled. "No sir, only after seven in the evening. Would you like a table?" "Yes, three please," Brandon replied. There was only one couple in the place as they were escorted to a corner booth. Alan sat in the middle after the waiter offered to take their coats. He returned with menus and a pleasant smile. "The chef has a nice red clam sauce over a delicate linguini this evening," he informed them. "Sounds good to me," Jack said. "Lasagna," Alan said. Brandon chuckled. "The chicken parmesan will suit me fine. Does everyone want tea?" Nods made Brandon tell the waiter, "Yes, that's fine, three teas, please." "You guys can drink wine if you want," Alan said. "No, and you may not have a glass of wine from me," Brandon said. "I don't drink, well, not much anymore," Jack said. "Darn, you guys are no fun," Alan laughed. "My father drank too much," Jack said. "My father was a Baptist, he hated people that drank," Alan said. "I smoked pot when I was a kid, never drank back then," Brandon added. "You did drugs?" Alan said. "Bad habit, Brand." "Yeah, I know. I think I did it just trying to fit in, the gay thing kept me pretty isolated for a long time." The waiter brought their tea and Alan took a sip. "Ew, no sugar," He said with a frown. "This isn't the south; here you have to add your own sugar." Brandon said. They all stirred in a couple of sugar packets and felt satisfied. "Brandon, where did you grow up if I may ask," Jack said. "Baltimore, just north of the city actually. But as I grew older and really started focusing on my photography I traveled a good bit. I did a few books and a friend showed some of my work to Theresa, she took me in." "I'd love to see some of your work," Jack said. Brandon laughed. "So you like gay porn?" "Oh, really? Guess it paid the bills," Jack smiled. "Pretty handsomely, but it's not really me. Getting artsy with the male body I can understand, but too much of that stuff was just senseless hard core. I won't do it again." "He won't shoot me without clothes on," Alan said. Brandon smiled. "The images would be attractive but useless, sweetie. I don't need photos like that when I have the real thing, we discussed this before." Alan was teasing, Brandon could tell. But it was Jack who stood up for him. "You don't want to kill your career, Alan. Photos like that in the wrong hands would destroy your image and take away your job and mine. You want to hurt me like that?" "No...I was just teasing. Brandon's right, he has the real thing if he wants something to look at." "Its one of the things on my security list," Jack said. "I can't allow situations where someone might see you in the nude, someone with a camera. You've seen the stuff they publish in those tabloids. I'll check out dressing rooms and bathrooms wherever you go, get used to it." Alan grinned. "But then you might see my naked butt." Jack laughed. "Look kiddo, you're cute...adorable even, but you're a little young for my tastes, cute butt or not. Now you want to know what I like just look at Barry when he works out, that my young friend is a cute butt." Brandon laughed and shook his head. Jack was going to be a lot of fun, he knew how to shut Alan down the minute the boy started playing head games. It was all in fun, they had good company. The food arrived and they set about eating. Alan finally learned that linguini was just another type of pasta. Brandon watched Alan pick at his food; his usual healthy appetite wasn't there. It was too soon for the boy to worry about his figure, models usually got to that phase at some point. Something else was on his mind. Once the meal was done Alan still had half the food left on his plate but said he was full. Alan paid the bill and they rode the elevator back upstairs. Jack gave them a smile and went into his place to call Barry; Brandon led them into the living room for a talk. "Something special on your mind, sweetie?" He asked. "Not really, homesick and a little tired that's all," Alan replied. Brandon cuddled the boy in his lap and Alan smiled, this was the reassurance he sought. "It's hard to imagine how you must feel," Brandon said. "Just a short while ago your life was so simple, everything was so easy but not very nice. Then you met me, we fell in love and all this happened. It's a lot for anyone to absorb." He kissed the boy gently, affectionately. "But the best part of all this is that we get to do it together. Becoming famous almost overnight is pretty scary, but I know you can handle it. I've watched you take on business tycoons and the news media; it was like you were born to handle those situations. A lot of boys your age would have folded under the pressure, but not you." Another kiss and a warm hug followed. "No matter how hard it gets I'm with you all the way. I never met anyone like you, sweetie. All the beauty, the smiles and the sweetness mean nothing to me, I love what's inside of you, I love what's in your heart...I always will." Alan was crying softly by the time Brandon finished, he needed the release. For so long he had felt like nothing he could do was right, that even God condemned him. All this sudden glory and fame seemed so distant and he felt undeserving. But the people in this new life seemed to know better, he had to put the past behind. It was hard; some things had been so deeply ingrained that only now his sense of self worth was beginning to surface. Brandon understood these feelings, and now he felt the boy could finally push those thoughts away and move on. But something was missing, something the boy wanted back in his life very much...Alan needed to renew his faith in God. It was a difficult issue, hard for someone who had no faith at all. But Brandon knew he had to do something for the boy, he had to help Alan regain that missing piece. For love meant being the source of everything the boy needed in life. He would have to help Alan find his faith again and here in New York, with the largest gay population in the country, that didn't seem impossible. And as Brandon cuddled the boy in his arms, the tears subsided. If this loving creature could have such faith in him, how could he deny the boy anything that important? His own feelings about God aside, Alan needed spiritual guidance. For somewhere in that wonderful mind lay the seeds of love, for him and for God. Because Alan still believed the Creator of everything had brought them together, had meant for them to be in love. Brandon could think of no better or noble reason to love the boy than to help him regain his faith. Brandon put Alan to bed fairly quickly after that emotional outburst; the boy was exhausted by the day's events. He gave the boy a kiss and watched him fall asleep. No matter how many times he did this it would never grow old. These were supreme moments of joy that made him realize how lucky he was to have Alan in his life. Brandon walked back out to the kitchen and opened the cabinet where he had seen the city directory before. He found several listings under churches that advertised their gay affiliations, but how would he know which one to choose? Taking Alan out in public and to a gay church would be risky, what if they were seen? Jack wouldn't approve, but he had to be there too. It was time to have that conversation about Alan's needs. Brandon walked across the hall and knocked. Jack opened the door with a quizzical look. "Everything OK?" He asked. "Fine, Alan is asleep...I need some advice," Brandon said. "Sure, come on in...I was just reading," Jack said. The little apartment was pretty nice, Brandon noticed. It had probably been a maid's quarters in the past, but it had all the amenities. Jack had been reading on the couch, the book still lay open on the end table. "I don't mean to bother you..." Brandon began. "No bother, you're welcome any time. What's up?" "Do you believe in God?" Brandon asked. Jack smiled. "If you'd been shot at as many times as I have and wondered why all the bullets missed you wouldn't be asking me that. I don't understand all the religious fervor in this world, but I have a very personal relationship to the Big Man upstairs." "I understand, it's something like that with me as well, but Alan is different. Despite all the hell in his life he believes that God brought us together for a reason. I can't refute that, I don't want to." "He mentioned being a Baptist, they're pretty harsh about the gay issue," Jack said. "I can give him all the love he needs, but I can't give him God. I want to find a gay church here for him to attend, to renew that sense of spirituality. You can imagine the problem that will cause, that's why I came to you," Brandon said. Jack smiled. "Yeah, that's an issue. We could vet the church, disguise the boy, even arrive in a cab two blocks away and still someone might notice him. Would some personal counseling with a minister help the situation?" "I don't know, I think he wants to feel a part of a church. In his mind it will reconnect him to faith, something that's missing right now." Brandon went on to explain Alan's early life and the father. The boy's mother had been his true spiritual guide and at her death Alan lost touch with his church. The questions Alan had asked those first two days still haunted Brandon's thoughts. And now he knew it was the missing piece, the one thing that would make Alan happy again. Jack smiled, "You really are good for him. I see what he thinks of you in his eyes, the boy is totally committed. As I said, you're a lucky man so I see what this means for you both, we'll have to come up with a solution." "I don't want to cause you any security issues," Brandon said. "You let me worry about that, you have enough on your hands. Barry will be here Thursday; he's ready to hand over responsibility. I can't thank you enough, this means a lot to me...to us both." "Do you think a disguise would work, or would Alan feel like a total fake?" "Sometimes the smallest touch hides the biggest things. I'll work on it, OK?" "Thanks, Jack. I was afraid you would hate the idea," Brandon said. "I do, it would better if we wrapped him in cotton balls and kept him in a box, but that's not realistic...and this is. I'll ask around, find us a good church...you'll be attending I take it?" "I'd do anything for Alan." "Then it will be a foursome next Sunday, count on it." Brandon gave the man a hug and it felt like he was wrapping his arms around a tree. But this tree had a heart of gold. Brandon knew he had an ally and not just a watchdog. Alan looked sharp for the lunch meeting the following day at the client's hotel, a fact not lost on the small group of Italians sitting across the conference table. They had the portfolio pictures of Alan and a portfolio of their own. Someone had done sketches of their clothing line and they spent a good deal of time comparing the sketches to the photos. "I am sorry," Mr. Delveccio, their leader said. "We are trying to imagine your athletic figure in our clothing, excuse me please." One of the others smiled at Alan and asked a question in Italian, Delveccio translated. "Excuse me, Mr. Forensa would like to know which sports you have played to achieve such a...robust figure. This information is not in your portfolio materials." Alan smiled. "I had no time for sports, Mr Delveccio. Please tell Mr. Forensa that I worked on my father's farm, and now I have a fitness trainer." Delveccio smiled and translated the answer. Forensa smiled at the answer and nodded at Alan graciously. They went back to chattering about the portfolio and then Delveccio smiled once again. "The American image of our company is very important. You have a superb look, far above what the average young man of your age is like. I ask you, do you feel that young men of your age will be...um, challenged by your appearance, will they identify with our product?" Theresa frowned. So far all the questioning had been to Alan, the Italians seemed quite taken with the boy. Brandon sat back and smiled, very certain that Alan could handle the question. "I understand your concerns," Alan began. "Boys of my age are engaged in so many activities, sports, school and many social things as well. I see your clothing as a step above the ordinary Wal-Mart fare. A boy may choose his friends, but his mother will buy the clothing. "So to answer your question, I am the image that mothers want to see. If you want those jeans or those shirts," He said, gesturing at the pile of samples on the table. "If you want to see those fine clothes on every kid in America then you will have to sell it to their mothers first. "Boys grow so fast. I love the loose fitting pants and the shirts as well. Clothing is an investment for many folks; at least you give them something that may last a few years while their boys grow up." And here Alan paused, returning to that winning smile. "I grew up wearing farm clothing, but that's not the image I projected at school. I wanted to look good at school, everyone does. It's what makes you stand out in the crowd, what makes you special. I think boys can be pretty vain, probably more than girls. They want to look good and I think that's what you're selling here, the image of something special." Delveccio nodded and the group went back to chattering. Then for the first time Forensa spoke. "You have training, this is because of your work schedule? It is important for maintaining your image I am sure; will you continue this working on your physical?" "Sure," Alan replied. "My trainer goes with me everywhere." He turned to Jack who was sitting against the wall and nodded. Jack stood up and nodded to the gentlemen. One look at that hunk of a man and Forensa's eyes widened, that answered his questions. Delveccio smiled and finally looked at Theresa. "I believe we shall conclude this agreement. Mr. Bennett is a most satisfactory representative for our product. When shall we begin with the campaign?" Theresa grinned. "To hit the trades by spring I think we had better start right away to meet their deadlines for the layout. Next week perhaps?" Delveccio nodded. "Most acceptable." He stood up and reached across the table to Alan, shaking his hand. They all shook hands with the boy and then gathered to talk with Theresa. Alan pulled Brandon aside. "And what was that all about, they didn't let Theresa say anything. She's got to be pissed." "In some countries men do all the business, Italians are like that. You did very well, Theresa is very happy so calm down," Brandon said. Alan chuckled. "Did you see Forensa look at Jack? I think the little guy shot a wad in his pants." "He can dream all he wants. Guess we're off to California next week, been a while since I've been there," Brandon said. Theresa walked over and placed a hand on Alan's shoulder. "You did a fantastic job, they really like you." "I'm sorry, they just seemed to zero in on me," Alan said. Theresa sighed. "Sweetie, Italian men are so...never mind, you did all the right things. But I think the Chinese are going to be a little bit more difficult. I don't mind you taking the lead, it's unusual but if that's the way they want it..." "We're like a tag team, Theresa. I'll beat them up and you go for their wallet." She laughed and gave the boy a hug. "I'm grateful, and to prove it you just won a five percent commission on the sale. You get me the Chinese and we'll double that." Alan smiled, having no idea what she meant by that, but it sounded good. They were all escorted off to lunch by Delveccio, who led them to a private dining room. Forensa did his best to entertain them as they were seated, explaining that many Italians did not eat lunch. And once again Alan stepped right in. "I read that many people in your country don't eat dinner like we do here, preferring to eat a late meal instead, " He said. "Yes, this is true," Forensa replied. "At many times of the year it is very hot even until the hours before midnight. I grew up without the luxuries of air cooling the house; we ate our meal on the roof in the late evening. Only then did the wind bring cool air off the bay in Napoli and wash away the heat of the day." Alan smiled. "Our house didn't have air conditioning either. But we had huge trees that kept off the sun and in the evening my mother would set our dinner out on the porch." Forensa seemed to think about this. "I remember my father would bring his music box, the accordion, and play songs for us. My mother would give me a glass of wine to drink, but it was mostly water. It is good to have such memories, it makes a man strong." "Did you have snow in Napoli?" Alan asked. "Never snow, sometimes it was cool, but we were too close to the continent of Africa where great dust storms would fly across the sea and blanket the city like a cloud. I remember many days shut inside my house from this dust, and then the heat was terrible." Delveccio laughed, "And I was from the north in Verona, where the great snow capped mountains made me freeze in winter. But one may add clothing to stay warm, poor Forensa had no way to stay cool except by running around in his skin." Alan smiled at the thought. "We had a creek running through the farm, and the water that came down from the Appalachians was very cold. A refreshing place to swim in summer." Lunch was served much like any true Italian meal. Bread and oil with a generous dose of garlic, followed by a pasta soup and then the salad for the final course. The conversation about boyhood homes continued, and Brandon watched the boy win the hearts and minds of the Italians. Theresa sat silently and studied the whole affair, Alan was astounding. It was only on the limo ride back to the office that she finally spoke up, and what she had to say amazed them all. "Alan, I don't know where you learned your people skills, but I have a proposition for you. One of these days you won't feel like modeling anymore..." "I love modeling..." Alan began. "I know, sweetie, but let me finish," Theresa said. "One of these days you'll grow tired of the game, everyone does...it just happens. But you finish your studies and I'll assure you of a place on my staff. I've never made that offer to a sixteen year old boy before, but then I've never met anyone quite like you. "There is just something...something special about the way you deal with people. You have an instinct for what makes them happy. At first I thought it was just boyish charm, but it's deeper than that. You identify with our clients on a baser level; you get into their hearts and minds. Delveccio said as much to me today. "So think about it, we have time. At least when you are grown this will be something I know you can do well. Talk it over with Brandon when you get the chance, I don't need an answer now." Alan smiled. "I will." The limo dropped them off at the condo and Jack opened the door to let them out. Brandon knew the boy had a lot on his mind but would wait until they were alone behind closed doors. And then they were. "I don't understand," Alan said as he shrugged off his coat. Brandon sat them down on the couch to explain. "Theresa has good instincts and that's all she's telling you. It would be better for her to give you a place on her team than have you working in competition." "Would I be managing other models?" "Yes, it's more than just a sales job; her work is very creative on many levels. She admires your people skills. But do you now what else happened today?" Brandon asked. "No...oh, the commission, I don't understand that." "It means a lot of money, that's what. Five percent is nothing to sneeze at. If she gets a million dollar contract with Delveccio then you just made fifty thousand dollars." "Wow...you're kidding, I didn't do anything to deserve that," Alan laughed. "Yes you did, you sealed the contract. It's called incentive money, a sales commission. And when the Italians begin their clothing campaign Theresa will receive residuals, um, payment every time they use your face in an advertisement." "But what do you get?" Alan asked. "Me? I'll get royalties on your photos, but best of all...I get to love you." Chapter Ten The roar of the surf almost drowns the cries of sea birds darting in and out of the waves. The breeze was steady along the rugged cliffs, something Brandon had sought for the desired effect it would have on the images he shot. Alan smiling, standing barefoot on the sand, his hair streaming out away from his face. The deep blue-green waters of the Pacific at his back, the rocky Sonoma coastline over his shoulder. The boy was radiant, the joy of this place evident on his face as Brandon tripped the shutter release a dozen times. The yellow and blue shirt, the off-white collarless jacket stood out perfectly. The Italians would be pleased, Brandon was overjoyed. Delveccio had certainly been an easier sell then Mr. Wong and his Chinese buddies. * * * * * That simple meeting with the Chinese, two days after the Italians left, had begun with tea being served, much as they had expected. The factory owners had been accompanied by a Mr. Wong who it seems was with the Chinese government and part of their foreign trade delegation. Theresa had certainly not been prepared to meet a foreign dignitary, a fact noted by Mr. Wong right away. "You have no representative of your government available?" The man had asked. "I assure you, Mr. Wong, we had no idea a representative of your government was going to be present. It was never mentioned in the correspondence or the phone calls we received. I hope you do not feel slighted, there was no intention of breaking protocol on our part." Wong seemed to turn his disgust on the factory owners and their rapid exchange in Chinese was fairly heated. The whole time Alan stood and sifted through the clothing samples hanging on a nearby rack. Occasionally Wong would glance at the boy and then fire off another sting of harsh words at the owners. Theresa sat quietly, helpless to say anything, but she did look over at Brandon who shrugged. There was nothing they could do. "Excuse me, young sir," Wong finally said, his remark addressed to Alan. "You are here as the person that will sell this product?" Alan smiled, stepping forward and offering his hand to Mr. Wong. "Alan Bennett, sir. I was chosen to wear the clothing for the advertising campaign." "Yes, you model clothing," Wang said. "Do you find it adequate?" Alan nodded. "If you mean comfortable, yes it is. I have been wearing one of the coats here all week." "Ah, a practical young man. A warm coat is an item of great luxury," Wong said. "Luxury? In some climates it's a necessity," Alan replied. "I remember mornings waiting for the school bus when a warm coat like this would have felt like a luxury, but I didn't have one." Wong seemed intrigued by the boy's comment and Brandon knew Alan was once again working his magic. "You come from a poor family?" Wong asked. "Not poor in spirit or love, just money. The farm didn't leave us much to spend on what you might think of as luxuries. The coat I wore to school was my father's, and I only got to use it when he didn't need it for the day." "You came from a farm to...to all of this?" Wong asked. "Yes, fortune smiled on me. I like the coats, but I wish you had some different colors, that's all," Alan said. "The colors do not please you?" "Black and blue are nice colors, but they're kinda dressy for most kids, they would have a limited use." Wong nodded and Brandon suddenly knew why. The man had been fishing for something to use against the owners, the two small men cowering at the table. Now Alan had said the colors were not what most kids wanted, bingo. "You see these items in other colors on sale here? The color would help you chose which coat to buy?" Wong asked. "Sure, the color is important. Most kids have to wait in the cold for a bus every morning, its dark and people are on the roads driving to work. Color is a safety issue, a black coat almost makes a kid invisible and that's dangerous. Parents think about stuff like that when they buy clothing for their kids. "But if you had say...an orange coat or a red one, maybe even add some of that reflective material they make now, that would be a real good seller." Alan smiled at Wong and the man gazed back. Quickly he turned to the owners and fired off a bunch of questions. They nodded and Wong seemed mollified. "What is this reflection material you said and how would it be applied?" Alan leaned down and took off his sneakers. "See, the stripe here on the heel is reflective; it catches the lights from an approaching car so a driver can see you." He put his shoe back on and picked up his coat. "If they sewed a stripe of the material across the shoulders and maybe around the cuffs then the coat makes the kid safer standing out there in the dark." Wong smiled, the first time he had done that since they started. "This can be done; it will take only a little time to obtain the proper materials. You have brought us good advice, for this I thank you," Wong said. Then he turned to Theresa. "I see we are not ready to discuss advertising at this time. It has been our error, I apologize." "This is fine, Mr. Wong. Product development is a long and tedious process, we'll be ready when you are." Then Theresa nodded. "Next time I will make sure we have a suitable representative here to meet you. You have been most kind." The Chinese delegation shook hands all around and then left. Theresa smiled at them all and shrugged. But then she gave Alan that look. "I think we have a winner. You saved us the embarrassment of losing that contract, now they'll be back. I don't know how you do it Alan, but Thank God you were here." * * * * * And that thought made Brandon smile, the boy was quite astounding. "Wow, I thought we were gonna land in the water, " Alan laughed as the wheels of the plane screeched down on the tarmac of the runway in San Francisco. The boy had been on a natural high all week, the Chinese had only been the beginning. "City by the bay, remember? It's a wonderful town, you'll love it," Brandon said. Jack and Barry sat across the aisle, reunited and smiling. Their vacation three years before had brought them to San Francisco; this was like reliving all those wonderful moments. They rented an SUV, something big enough to carry all of Brandon's equipment. Jack never mentioned the need for something fast and secure, which was always on his mind. The magazine ad had appeared four days ago, the distribution was national. There was no telling what the response would be, but Jack and Barry had to be prepared. They drove into the city north along the One-o-One towards the north end of town. Alan gawked and gasped at the skyline while Brandon smiled, enjoying every minute of the boy's first encounter with California. They had planned three days here before moving north into the wine country. * * * * * The one and only planning session for the trip had consisted of a short discussion over dinner at the Italian place off the lobby on Thursday. It was kept short because that was the evening Barry had finally arrived and Brandon knew that Jack wanted some quality time alone. "OK, four tickets to San Francisco then three nights at the Fairmont," Brandon began. "Get some shots around the city, cable cars and all the lovely stuff. Then north towards Santa Rosa and on into the wine country. Italians, they'd have to love some photos in the vineyards. "Then into the trees, redwoods make a wonderful backdrop. Guerneville, the Russian River at it's scenic best and then on to Jenner and the coast. Seven days tops, a little business, some wonderful goof off time at the resorts before we jet off to Los Angeles." "Los Angeles? What will we do there?" Jack asked "Vacation of course," Brandon said. "Alan wants to see Disneyland and Theresa's buying, how could we turn down an offer like that?" Jack laughed. "OK, you sold me. Disneyland, now there's a security nightmare." "I have no doubt you can handle it gentlemen." * * * * * Brandon was thinking of what Jack had managed yesterday morning, their Sunday visit to church. He had awakened Alan bright and early at eight-thirty. The boy had no idea what was afoot. "I want you to get up and shower, we're going out," was all he'd said. "Out? It's too early," Alan groaned. "Where are we going?" "Can't tell you, security matter, very hush-hush," Brandon said while trying to hold back the smile. "Now you're messin with me," Alan laughed as he rolled out of bed. "Jack and Barry will be here soon, let's shower, sweetie." The hot water brought them both awake as Brandon resisted the boy's usual morning attack of friskiness. He urged Alan into casual dress and managed to get some toast and a glass of juice in the boy before Jack knocked on the door. "Morning, gents," Jack said. "Is everyone ready?" "Ready for what, Brand won't tell me," Alan said. "OK, we're going to take a little trip downtown. You'll be out in public so I want you to wear these." With that Jack pulled a pair of dark framed glasses out of his coat pocket. "Glasses? I don't need...oh, a disguise," Alan laughed. Barry reached around behind Alan's head and pulled the boy's hair back, slipping a black tie around the hair and creating an instant pony-tail. The men stood back and stared. "Pretty good, he looks different," Jack said. "Not a lot, just enough to fool the eye." "What's that mean?" Alan asked. "You don't present the same image as the one people will see in the magazines, it will fool them...enough to get by I think," Brandon said. "It may not be necessary but let's go find out," Jack said. Barry brought the car around from the garage and they all climbed in. The church was established in a small old building about twenty blocks south. Jack had scoped it out two days ago ands talked to the pastor. The man assured him that they often had celebrities attend services, but everyone came for worship and nothing else. No one would call attention to the boy, that's all that mattered. Barry took them down Broadway, around Columbus Circle and edged down a few blocks more before he started looking for a parking spot. The neighborhood was in transformation, a lot of new things were happening to the old city around here. They found a place and Barry parked. "OK, we have a little bit of a walk," Jack explained. "Straight down Tenth about three blocks. Time to test the disguise." Brandon walked beside Alan, Jack and Barry hung back to watch. No one seemed to look at them with any undue curiosity. "So are you finally going to tell me...?" Alan asked. Brandon sighed. "I don't know if this will be the place you want, but I had to do this for you...for us. We're going to church." Alan's face broke into a grin. "You remembered...what's it like?" "The Metropolitan Community Church is a place of worship and so much more. They accept anyone with faith...that's all I know, the rest we have to find out," Brandon said. "Anyone...even gay people?" "Yes, especially those who feel left out of God's divine purpose, that's what the minister told Jack on Friday. I just wanted you to have something important back in your life, something I knew you missed. " Alan took his arm and squeezed it. Brandon looked in the boy's eyes and saw the emotions rising. He still believed the power of God had brought them together, he needed to believe that. This seemed like a good place to revisit those feelings. And here on the streets of a city so huge, so diverse, they came to the front of the church. It looked like a community center and a church, with brightly colored shapes painted on the walls. But even before they walked inside Brandon could see the people gathering outside before the service. People of all kinds stood in the small crowd. Black, White, Hispanic...and many of them gay, lesbian or transgender. But they had one thing in common, they were all smiling. Heads turned their way, and Brandon nodded to several of the men. And right on cue, Jack and Barry stole the attention as they held hands. The eyes turned towards these handsome hunks, Alan was all but forgotten. And then the doors opened and everyone slowly filed in. The next two hours were special and not just because Alan seemed uplifted by the service. Brandon listened to the singing, a Gospel choir that really put their hearts into the music. But the sermon was filled with hope and peace, the message seemed to reach out to Alan and he cried with joy. The pastor spoke of tolerance and love. His message was about the world as a community, the responsibility of each man to his brother and how that meant taking responsibility for the welfare of others. He might have invoked the name of Jesus once or twice, but the focus was not on the divine, it was on mankind. And even after the service, as the community of worshipers gathered to socialize, Brandon felt himself watching Alan. Had he done the right thing bringing the boy here? For all too soon the world would own that face, could he still come here then? It would be tragic to give the boy something like this only to have it taken away. Jack must know that as well, his was the final decision. But they would be away so much of the time, away from these warm and endearing people. Brandon finally cornered the pastor. "Reverend Beale...Brandon Clark, this is our first time attending." "So glad to meet you...you don't sound like a New Yorker, are you living here now? "Part of the time, I'm from North Carolina and so is Alan. My friend Jack spoke with you last week," Brandon said. "Yes I remember...the boy model. Did he enjoy the service?" "He did, it brought tears of joy to his eyes. You have a new member I think...but that's going to become an issue for him and for the church." "Fame can be cruel, what can I do to help?" The Reverend asked. "Fame and a gay lifestyle, you must understand the issues that can create for him. I don't want his faith to suffer once again; he already went through that once when his father discovered that difference. Besides we'll be on the road a lot for work, he won't be able to attend here on a regular basis." "The MCC has churches throughout the country; you would be welcome at any of them." "My issue is his safety and security," Brandon said. "His face will soon be everywhere in the media, we already know that much." "I could chat with him online; offer my spiritual guidance that way when he can't join us at the service." "You would do that?" Brandon asked. "Did you listen to the message today?" The Reverend asked with a smile. "He is just as important to me as any hundred of these others. The family of man should be one of sharing and compassion. Are you committed to him?" Brandon nodded. "Yes, he's my life." "And then why should I feel any less towards him? We are all family here. No one is turned away because of their fortune or misfortune; all are equal in a spiritual and temporal sense." The man drew out his wallet and handed Brandon a business card. "E-mail me at your convenience; we can iron out the details." Alan walked over about that time and the Reverend shook his hand with no mention of his conversation with Brandon. The boy seemed quiet on their walk back to the car and Brandon gave him time to think. And it wasn't until they got back to the condo that the boy let his feelings out. "I like that church, Brand...but we're going to be away so much..." Brandon handed Alan the business card. "The reverend wants us to e-mail him; he proposes to maintain contact with you online with you when we're away." "He does...that's so cool, but why?" "He said the family of man should be one of sharing and compassion. I think he wants to guide you, and yes, that is very cool." * * * * * It was very cool; Alan had found something he could believe in. And once they were ensconced in the Fairmont Hotel the boy had begun his correspondence with the Reverend. Brandon couldn't ask what Alan told the man, he had to trust the boy not to get them in trouble. But soon they were out on the streets working. Chinatown, Golden Gate Park, The Presidio...all became backdrops for the clothes and the boy who wore them. And finally they began to encounter some looks as Alan walked around, the face had some recognition here, but it couldn't have been the Letterman show. Theresa had called as soon as she heard; they had been bumped off the show. One of the candidates for President had been given precedence, and that seemed logical. If anything Alan was relieved, he had only seen Letterman's show twice at Brandon's insistence. The boy was not a fan of late night television. But the entertainment news played big in this town because of the large gay population, Alan had been seen. Of the six high end magazines left on their hotel room coffee table, three of them had the toothpaste ad with Alan in it. The boy had positively squealed at the discovery, jumping around the room with delight. And then with a second look he discovered something on the very edge of the printed page. "It says 'B Clark-Stanford Agency', that's you Brand...you're famous too." "Wow...neat huh?" Brandon chuckled. "Aww, you've been through this before. It looks great...I feel proud." "As you should, sweetie. The first step in what should be a long and glorious career selling toothpaste and dog food, or maybe they'll let you do underarm deodorant commercials once your body starts growing hair." Alan pounced and soon they were on the carpet in a trickle fight. The boy always lost at these matches, but he never gave up. And as always it dissolved into a kissing match where Alan always won on points. But if their mornings were filled with photo shoots, they had the afternoons for love and the evenings for exploring the city. Jack never called their room before six to discuss dinner plans; maybe he was busy as well. Alan had taken to watching the men and their love affair. His study was subtle, not at all intrusive, but he seemed fascinated. Jack had put up with the observations and finally confronted Brandon with his thoughts. "The boy seems to be curious about Barry and I, you've seen it I'm sure," Jack said one morning as Alan changed in the SUV. "I'm sorry; I don't think he means anything by it." "Oh, but I think he does mean something," Jack said with a smile. "I think he wants to know what it's like to be in a long term commitment. That bodes well for you, my friend." "Then you guys are a fine example. In the beginning his needs formed the basis for our love, now we're both more secure with the feelings. He has to wonder where this is all going." "And do you ever wonder?" Jack asked. "Sure...hell yes, our relationship has never been challenged. Alan doesn't look at other men, he said he never would. But the promises of youth often change." "Not always, you have something special there," Jack said. Their first walk down the Castro was quite an event. Alan was beginning to enjoy the disguise by now, embellishing it with this little black beret he borrowed from Barry. Brandon took him into shops and they bought all kinds of things. Alan chose some pretty sexy thong underwear and that got a rise out of Brandon. The boy squealed with delight when he finally noticed. "You know who gets to see these, don't you," Alan giggled. "I don't think Theresa is ready for that," Brandon deadpanned. "Don't spoil my fun, silly," Alan laughed. They sat on grass amidst the windswept hillside of Golden Gate Park. The bridge had a fascination for them both, probably its grand size and history. But the bay stretched out to their right and the ocean occupied the horizon to their left. "I really love this place," Alan said, "I could live here forever." "I felt that way the first time I came here, but there are so many places you haven't seen yet, it's too soon to decide," Brandon said. "Maybe...but if I chose this place would you agree?" Brandon wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulder and pulled him close. "I could be happy anywhere if you were there." Alan was silent a moment, and then he giggled. "The Sahara Desert?" "Ahhh...hmm, nope, too hot." "The North Pole?" "Nope, elves give me the creeps." "But you said anywhere," Alan laughed. "Anywhere with you, not anywhere. Besides, think of poor Jack and Barry, they would be miserable in those nasty places." "Will they have to be with us forever?" Alan asked. "Quite a while I think, at least until we go to Plan 'B,'" Brandon said. Alan laughed. "I'm afraid to ask, what is that?" "You decide to stop being famous, we'll have piles of cash and we can buy Alcatraz and turn it into a private paradise," Brandon was laughing now. "Ew, never. That place sounds creepy. How do I stop being famous?" Brandon smiled. "I don't think that's even possible at the moment." "I'll know when it's time to stop, God will tell me," Alan said. But all too soon it was time to pack up and head north, at least the trip took them across the bridge. Alan held his hand as they sped across the span; the water seemed to be miles below them. And then they were across and Alan looked back one last time. North of Santa Rosa they were in the wine country and they spent the afternoon taking photos, but by four they were headed down the road to Guerneville, and that's where they encountered the trees. The bigger redwoods were further north, but these were still quite impressive. "Lord, look at those," Barry said. Alan gaped and of course they had to pull over. "Amazing, you could build an entire house out of one tree," the boy said. "Damn, listen to this," Brandon said, reading from the travel guide. "Redwoods were here when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. The trunks of many trees can grow to over twenty feet in diameter at the base, and some of them top out at three hundred and fifty feet or more. The oldest of those ancient trees reached an age of about two thousand years, the average now is almost six hundred years." "Amazing," Jack said. "Makes me feel young again." They all laughed and climbed back in the car. Guerneville, the center of tourist trade up and down the Russian River was a delight. They took a small lane off the main highway and found themselves on a private drive loaded with potholes. "The Sequoia Inn is where Barry and I stayed last time we were up here. Totally private and totally gay," Jack announced as they hit another bump sending them all towards the roof. "Sorry, I'll slow down." "What can we do here," Alan asked. "Tomorrow we go to Jenner and shoot on the beach. The redwoods are all around this area, maybe a hike on Friday if you like," Brandon said. "I mean does the resort have activities," Alan asked. "Oh, entertainment," Jack grinned. "I guess so. Fishing, boating, nude swimming, hiking..." "Whoa...nude swimming?" "If you're into that kind of thing, um...just don't mention your age, OK? Think eighteen at all times, Alan." "Yeah, got it...do we have to swim nude?" "I will if you will," Brandon said. "Done deal," Alan replied. Jack and Barry howled with laughter until they hit the next bump. The resort was quiet; most of the guests had taken the van into town for dinner. A tall handsome Latin looking manager greeted them in the drive as they pulled up. "Mr. Abrams, so nice of you to return, we have your rooms waiting." "Hello, Carlos. This is Brandon, Alan and I suppose you remember Barry." "Barry, so nice to see you again," Carlos said. The two men hugged and everyone went for their bags. "You must have made quite a hit on your last visit," Brandon whispered. "You have no idea," Jack laughed. "But then I wasn't on duty." He and Barry were to share one cottage, Alan and Brandon another. The cottages offered more privacy, and they overlooked the pool. The resort had twenty rooms inside but Jack seemed to know what he was doing. Carlos stopped before the cottages and gave them a few words. "You just missed the van, but I think it was full anyway. It might be a bit nippy for swimming this evening, but the hot tubs are delicious when it's cool outside. Don and Brad are entertaining in the lounge this evening, just a short program tonight. "You're pretty much at the end of our season for the year. Most of the entertainment is still going on in town, and we have a new restaurant that opened last summer. Don can probably make you something to eat if you wish, but there's always the town for a little fun." "We'll probably try a place in town after we get settled, thanks Carlos," Jack said. "Have fun, guys," Carlos said before he left. "Oh I have to hear that story, Jack," Brandon laughed. "Maybe...just don't ask Barry to tell it. Lies nothing but lies," Jack grinned. "OK, see ya in two?" Brandon nodded, two hours seemed just about right. The little cottage seemed very nice, clean and warm, the two best things to consider. The tub was huge and obviously made for a double occupancy, so was the bed. "Sweet," Alan said. "This is fun already." "No, this is work, fun starts next week," Brandon said. Alan slid into his arms for a kiss. "Do we have time for a bath?" "For you, anything," Brandon said. The tub looked inviting; there was even a bottle of bubble bath provided, only in a gay resort. Brandon filled the tub as they undressed. One capful and the bubbles began to form. Alan was finally left standing in that tiny little thong. "You like?" He asked. Brandon groaned and grabbed the boy, running his hands over the silky material and feeling Alan respond. "Oh sweetie, you feel so good." Alan did a slow peal, the thong sliding down to his ankles where he kicked it away. A pose, a giggle and they slid into the tub together. "I've been thinking about this all day," Alan laughed as the bubbles rose around them. "Hmm, must have been those redwoods," Brandon said, nibbling on the boy's neck. "Yeah, all that wood." His laughter rang out, bouncing off the tiled walls. Brandon smiled. "You're such a goof ball." "Hey, teen idol here, I'm no goof ball." "I hear the teen idol gig is overrated," Brandon said. "But we'll see what happens next week at Disneyland. Are you going in disguise?" "Nope, Jack said it's time to face the music," Alan laughed. "And then there's New Year's." * * * * * They had all gathered in Theresa's office for the interview that past Saturday morning. The two representatives of Teen Star magazine were in their mid-twenties, Bobby Waite and Jessica Mason. Alan had greeted them in his usual out going fashion while Brandon sat back to watch. Both young women had that young professional image, but they seemed excited to be getting the scoop on this rising young star. It was going to be Alan's first chat with the fan magazine industry. "Alan, have you seen our magazine before?" Bobby asked up front. "No, I haven't really paid much attention to the magazine industry before I began modeling," Alan replied. Jessica smiled. "That's fine; we don't have much of a readership amongst male teens. Our readers are mostly young women and girls who like to keep abreast of the current stars in Hollywood. We present information and bios of teens in the film and music business, but you have the image we think they'll like as well." Bobby moved right on. "So you're sixteen and lived in North Carolina all your life. How did you break in to the modeling business?" "I met Brandon Clark, one of the Stanford Agency's photographers. He was out scouting for new talent and asked me to do a photo shoot." "Amazing," Jessica said. "And what did your friends at school think of all this?" Alan laughed. "I didn't tell them, I wasn't sure what to tell them. But things happened so fast and I found myself here in New York almost overnight." "And what's it like to be a model?" Bobby asked. "It's a lot of work, but great fun. I have a personal trainer to keep me in shape and I do have to be careful of what I eat, but nothing too hard. I've met some interesting people and I'm going to be traveling very soon." "On a personal note, did you have to leave any special young ladies behind when you came here?" Bobby asked. Alan smiled. "I didn't have a real girlfriend, but there are lots of special people in my life." "Is there anything you would like to tell our readers?" Jessica asked. "OK, yes. I'm not sure how many years I can work in the modeling industry, at some point I will get older and I don't know what that will mean to my career. I think the most important thing a young person can do is get the very best education available. "At some point our lives all change and we have to be able to change with it. Right now my face might be valuable in the advertising business, but later on in life I may have to choose a different career. I can never forget that, I need to get myself ready, and that means being a good student and eventually going to college." "Do you have other interests in mind?" Bobby asked. "I've considered the business end of the advertising industry. I like people and developing the skills to work with others interests me. But I also want to get involved in other issues involving youth. "I've been very lucky, but I know there are so many young people out there who just need a chance to prove themselves. I think there are some causes I'd like to become involved with in the near future." "Many stars lend their names to needy causes, I think you'd do very well at that," Jessica said. "So how are you going to handle all this sudden fame?" "There are so many options," Alan said. "I suppose the modeling will bring me to the attention of other professionals. I don't see myself as a singer but I might like to try some acting in films." "Well you're certainly on the right track for that," Bobby said. "I want to thank you for being so candid with us today." "Thank you both too," Alan said. "Our next issue goes to print in two weeks. Theresa has given us some great photos to use so I can pretty much assure you of a full page spread." Bobby smiled. "I imagine your popularity in the teen market will skyrocket from there." Alan laughed. "Yeah, I've been warned. No more casual walking down the street." Bobby turned to Theresa. "Will Alan be based here in New York for a while?" "For the time being. He has a photo shoot in California next week, what did you have in mind?" "If we did a follow up just before Christmas, would you be willing to allow him to attend some publicity events?" Jessica asked. It was Theresa's turn to smile. "Within reason, yes. He's a bit young to enjoy the club scene if that's what you're asking." Bobby smiled. "Most of our readership couldn't get through the door either. But two years ago we sponsored a New Year's party for kids, an afternoon event. I was thinking we ought to revive that idea." "We had a few bands and some celebrities attended, it was very successful," Jessica said. "If Alan is in town I'm sure we can arrange something," Theresa said. * * * * * Alan slid his body over on top of Brandon's. "Will you be jealous when all the little girls want to have my autograph and hold my hand?" Brandon smiled. "No, because I know you'll do it to be polite, but you won't have to like it. Being famous means giving a part of yourself away, but then you've always been very generous." "I draw the line at kissing them," Alan said. "There's only one person who gets my kisses." Brandon laughed. "And I know Theresa appreciates that." Alan dug his fingers into Brandon's ribs, hitting that ticklish spot and they both splashed water all over the bathroom floor. Brandon's only defense was to grab the boy, which of course was what Alan wanted. The kisses were great but the bubbles were fading and the bath water losing its warmth. "You can molest me later," Brandon promised, and he knew the boy would hold him to that. Jack and Barry were sitting outside on the cottage steps looking hungry. "You rested?" Jack asked. "Bubble bath," Alan replied. "Now I'm hungry." "See, I told you we should have taken a bubble bath," Barry said. "Later, sweetie...now we go fill my empty stomach," Jack said. The town of Guerneville was one long main street running parallel to the river. All sorts of boutiques had sprung up here along with the older well established businesses. It all had the flavor of an old pioneer town, a carefully cultivated look. There were a few bars for the older crowd and a few family restaurants. They chose the pizza emporium because they could get a table for four. There were other families of the gay and straight kind in the place and the atmosphere seemed warm and friendly. Alan gazed about the room at all the posters and photos on the walls. "The town was founded about a hundred and fifty years ago," Jack said. "The state was still in the pioneering stages back then but San Francisco was a boom town. Lots of folks came up here back then, it was quite a summer resort, still is." "Was San Francisco a big attraction for gay people back then?" Alan asked. "Probably not, but then there were a lot of men on the frontier and not as many women. The Bay was a real attraction for ships and the sailors on them. People from all over the world came there and I imagine some of them were gay. But then came the Gold Rush and the city grew huge. More people means more gay people too, but I can't answer your question, I just don't know." "Wow, that was a pretty good non-answer," Brandon laughed. "Alan, all those years ago the gay population wasn't very visible, they didn't want to be." "Sure is different now," Alan said, looking at the gathering of men around the room. He noticed a young girl looking at him from across the room and he smiled at her. "Hmm, fan at two o'clock," Jack said, noticing the girl. "And she's coming this way." Clutched in her hand was a magazine and Brandon knew what was coming. "Excuse me," the girl said. Pretty little thing, all of twelve years old. "Are you Alan Bennett?" Alan smiled to prove his identity. "Yes I am...what's your name?" "Lisa Barnes...I saw your picture in the magazine just today, and I couldn't believe it was really you, wow." "I'm here doing a fashion layout, lots of photos," Alan said. "Do you live here?" "No, we're down from Eugene, Oregon, that's where I live. Um, can you sign the photo for me?" "I'd be happy to Lisa. You have beautiful eyes, did you know that?" The girl blushed and nodded as Jack produced a pen. And there on the page with Alan's photo, toothbrush in hand, he wrote: "To Lisa with the beautiful eyes. All my very best, Alan Bennett." "Oh....thank you," Lisa said. And Alan leaned up to kiss her cheek. "Thank you too," He said. The girl hurried back to her family to share the autograph. Alan smiled, embarrassed at his own reaction to the girl. "That was the sweetest thing I've ever seen," Barry said with a sigh. "Well done, Alan, you made her day," Jack said. "My first autograph, wow." Their food came and Alan just couldn't stop smiling. Brandon chuckled; it wouldn't always be this easy. Sharing Alan with the young fans would take some getting used to, but he had to do it. The personality behind the smile would all become a part of the boy's public image. He couldn't kiss them all, but this had been a special moment. Brandon could tell the boy was excited by the attention. When it became a thousand screaming girls things would be quite different, but then that lesson lay ahead. They walked the street after the meal, gazing in shop windows. Alan kept bumping him and Brandon knew that signal by now, the boy was heating up. But holding the boy at bay for a while longer would only increase their passions later on; Brandon was looking forward to that release. Back at the resort they saw a few men gathered around the pool but it was too cold for swimming. "Hot tub anyone?" Barry asked. "Um, I've never been in one," Alan admitted. Ten minutes later they all met at the hot tubs laid out in the garden behind the resort. Of the six tubs only two were occupied and they were greeted as they approached. Rather than join the strangers, Brandon decided that the four of them could share a tub of their own. Jack and Barry were wearing towels, Brandon and Alan had their swim suits on. The water was warm and inviting so Jack and Barry dropped their towels to get in. It was the first time the men had been naked in front of Alan, and Brandon for that matter. Alan tried not to look, but he did. The view was spectacular, and it inspired Brandon to abandon his own suit leaving Alan with a choice. It was dark enough, the garden lit with torches spaced out around the perimeter and the boy made his decision, dropping his suit. It was cozy, although the tub could have seated eight. Jack and Barry both had several tattoos on their bodies, and they shared one in common. "What's the tattoo mean?" Alan asked, pointing to the one on Jack's shoulder. It depicted a skull over a crossed rifle and an arrow. "Special Forces...silent and deadly, the arrow and the rifle," Jack said. Then he laughed. "That's why Carlos remembers me so well." "Oh? I sense a story behind that," Brandon said. "Yeah, well after the bar fight Carlos examined him," Barry said with a smile. "He was sure there had to be some cuts and bruises on Jack but nope, just on the other guys." "Bar fight?" Alan asked. "Oh, sorry kiddo, just the usual Army/Navy thing," Jack said. "They got rude and I had to teach them a lesson." Carlos came out the back door of the hotel and walked over to their tub. "Good evening, did you have a good time in town?" "Fine, Carlos, just fine," Jack said. "Get you something to drink?" Drinking in a hot tub, oh brother, Brandon thought. "Courvoisier sounds good...Brandon?" "Yeah, a small brandy sounds fine." They enjoyed the night sky, watching the night birds out chasing the bugs attracted to the torches. Carlos returned with a small bottle and four snifters which he set on the end of the tub. Alan didn't say a word, but Brandon saw him looking. Jack poured three small amounts and looked over at Brandon who nodded. The boy deserved a little taste, nothing more. Glasses in hand the four of them made a toast. "To friends, and those we left behind," Jack said. Alan watched the others smell the liquid and he took a sip. A cough and his eyes immediately watered. "Damn, that burns going down," Alan said, coughing again. "But it tastes good." "Brandy is a very strong wine, but this is a special occasion," Brandon said. "To friends and lovers," He said with a laugh, raising his glass. "This is truly special." Alan sipped again, it was easier now. The hot tub and the liquor, the boy would be a tiger in bed tonight. Tomorrow would be a full day. A shoot in the trees and then on to the beach, a full day indeed. And after an hour of conversation in the hot water they all felt ready to get out. The nudity didn't seem to matter any more as they said their good-nights. Brandon led the way back to their cottage and they both went straight to the bed. Alan gave Brandon a kiss and snuggled in close. "So you like kissing little girls, huh?" Brandon asked. No answer, the boy was fast asleep. It was all he could do to keep from laughing, so much for a sexy night. He reached over and turned out the light.