Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2000 01:29:02 EST
From: F E <faint_echo@hotmail.com>
Subject: Loves faint echo part 2

This is part two of 'Love's Faint Echo', a story about lots of stuff that
NEVER happened.  Okay?  NEVER HAPPENED.  It's not meant to imply anything
about anyone, particularly any members of any boy-bands mentioned.  All for
fun, folks.

PLEASE, let me know what you think of the story, and whether you're enjoying
it so far or not.  Input is very welcome at:

faint_echo@hotmail.com

Thank you.

And now.....

*TWO*

Lance caught Shelby just as he was stepping up to the cashier, and pulled
him out of the line.  "Just a minute, Shel."  He pulled him along behind him
into an aisle of bookshelves so that they could talk privately.  "I want to
talk to you a minute."

Shelby stumbled, then regained his balance and stood to face Lance.  "Look,
I'm sorry for that.  I really have no idea what made me ask.  I didn't have
any right to assume anything.  I already apologised."

Lance smiled, making Shel stop talking.  "You didn't even give me a chance
to answer."

"I think the look on your face, and the gasp from Chris, was more than
answer enough, don't you?"

"Shel, this all figures into the whole complicated life thing.  Let's just
say that who I date isn't exactly up for public consumption.  Part of the
low profile.  But you're not wrong, if you know what I mean."

Shel knew, alright.  There hadn't really been much doubt in his mind, even
upon seeing their reactions.  "Look, there's obviously more going on for you
than you can tell me about.  Why don't we just forget I said anything?"

"Because I don't want to forget you said it."

Just then, Chris located them and came to stand behind Lance, putting his
hand on Lance's shoulder.  "I have to talk to you.  Now."

"No, Chris, you don't," Lance said, not looking around.  "Shel, why don't we
compromise?  There's no way in hell that I'm going to be able to meet you
for dinner alone.  That's part of the whole deal, pretty much.  Chris
wouldn't let me, and neither would any of my other friends I'm here with.
But why don't you join us tonight?  We're likely just going to be getting
some dinner and hanging out in front of the TV, but you're welcome to join
us.  I'd like a chance to talk a bit more.  Maybe we can explain some of the
complexities in our lives?"

Shel looked past Lance to see Chris's face.  He had a slight frown, but it
didn't seem to be directed specifically at Shelby.  It was more a frustrated
look than an angered one.  When he looked back to Lance, he found that the
sunglasses were gone.  For the first time, he got to look into Lance's eyes.
  With surprisingly little internal debate - surprising for him, at least -
he found himself nodding.

"Okay, that sounds like fun.  One thing, though.  Remember when I said that
most nights my schedule is more flexible than in the day?"

"Yeah."

"Tonight's not one of those nights.  I have to be around the building all
evening.  I was planning on you coming over for dinner rather than our going
out when I asked you.  You think your friends would be up to coming there?
It's really the only way I can work it."

"Well, I can ask them.  I doubt that they would have a problem with it,
though.  They're likely sick of the hotel already anyway."  Lance smiled at
what Shelby could only assume was a private joke.

"If they do mind, maybe we can put it off until tomorrow night?  I can get
away then."

"Actually, that's no good for us. We've got a... previous engagement.  But I
think tonight will be fine, right Chris?"

Chris looked up in surprise.  "What?  Oh, yeah, I guess it'll be good.  I
don't see why they wouldn't want to get out for a bit."

"Then it's settled," Shelby smiled.  It wasn't exactly what he had had in
mind when he had made the offer to Lance, but it was something.  He once
again took a moment to think about how out of character it was for him to
suddenly invite someone on a date.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out
a business card.  It had his name, phone number and address written on it.
No title, no job description, just the basic personal information.  He
handed it to Lance.  "How about you come around at seven or so?"

"Sounds good to me.  If there's a problem, I'll give you a call."

"Okay, then.  I'll see you tonight."

"Can't wait," Lance said with a smile, shaking his hand again.  Shel
returned the handshake as well as the smile, and then offered both to Chris
once more as well.

They walked together to the cashier, and then back out to the street, where
they said another goodbye and headed in opposite directions on the crowded
sidewalk.

=============

"Coming!" Shelby shouted, brushing his hands on his pantlegs and running for
the door.  He was mentally cursing himself for letting the time get away
from him.  He reached the door and punched in the code on the lock.  After
waiting for it to release, he pulled the door open.

Lance was standing in the doorway, with Chris and three others behind him.
He moved aside to let them in, noticing the way Lance's eyes took him in.
He was dressed only in the black cargo pants that he had been wearing that
morning at the bookstore.  He had been working, and he rarely wore much when
he worked.  Once they were all inside, he shut the door again and heard the
lock take hold.

"Shelby, this is Justin, JC, and Joey.  And you remember Chris from this
morning.  Guys, this is Shelby."

Shel brushed his hands on his pantlegs again and shook each of their hands.
"Nice to meet you all.  Sorry for the way I look.  I got distracted and lost
track of the time.  Come on in."  He turned and led them a little further
into the foyer, which was very large and sparse.  There was never much call
for anyone to spend any time in it; it was basically a place to put coats
and such, and a path to the elevator.

"What were you doing, man?" Justin asked, looking him over.  "You're covered
in little flecks of wood."

"I was working on something," Shel said with a smile.  "Why don't you guys
follow me, and I'll give you a tour of this floor.  There's not much to see,
but at least it'll explain why I look like hell."

"You have more than this floor?"

Shelby smiled back at Lance and nodded.  "Yeah, actually, I have use of four
of the floors.  This one and the three above it.  Oh, and the roof, too.
Come with me, and I'll give you the grand tour."

He led them through the sliding double doors across from the street entrance
and down a short hall.  "The bathroom's at the end of this hall," he said,
pointing.  "There's storage spaces on either side of the hall as well.
They're mostly filled with junk that it would take years to sort through."

Leading them further down the hall, he stopped in front of the only door
that was open, standing in the shaft of light that spilled out of it.  "And
this is my workspace.  It's the largest of the spaces, so it's the one that
I took."  He turned and walked through the door, with the others following
him.

"Wow," Lance said, looking around him.  "This is incredible.  Are all of
these yours?"

"Yeah.  This is where I spend most of my time."  The room was full of
carvings in different states of completion.  There was a display case set
along one wall, so that Shelby could put the finished pieces behind glass
where they wouldn't get dusty or knocked around.  One entire corner of the
room was boxed in, creating a smaller room within the larger one.  Seeing JC
looking at it, Shelby explained.  "That's where I do the finishing.  I carve
and sand out here, so it's too dusty and dirty.  It's spotless in there, so
that's where I finish everything."

JC nodded and moved further into the room.  Everyone fanned out, looking at
different parts of the place.  Justin and Lance were looking at the finished
pieces, Chris was looking over the various tools that had been spread out on
one of the large tables, and JC was checking out the works-in-progress on
another table.  Joey was in the far corner, looking at a large white block
on the table there.

"What's this?" he asked, looking at Shelby.  His question got everyone's
attention, and they all gathered around the table.

"Soap," Shelby answered.

"Big bar of soap," JC commented, looking it over.  The block sat a foot high
and wide, and probably two feet deep.

"It's got to be," Shelby smiled.  "There's a bird trapped in it."

"You carve soap, too?"  Justin looked over at him.

"We did that one time in art class," Chris added with a smile.  "In grade
five, I think.  We had to bring in a bar from home and turn it into
something."

Shelby nodded.  "We had to do it, too.  That's what actually got me started
carving.  That project turned into a relief carving of a rose.  I was hooked
after that.  I don't work in soap much anymore, but I do it every now and
then.  It's softer than the wood, and harder to work with.  It's frustrating
when you finally get near the end of something and have it fall apart on
you.

"There's a guy upstate that makes it, and I get him to make the bigger
blocks for me.  Charges way more than he should, but he's the only game in
town."

"Do you have any soap stuff that we can see?"

"A couple of things.  Like I said, I don't do it often, and depending on
what it is, it's easy to screw up.  What I do have is upstairs, though.
I'll show you, if you like."

"I'd like to see it," Lance said, and Shelby noticed a look pass between the
rest of the people in the room.

"Why don't we go on up now?  I'd like to grab a quick shower, if you guys
don't mind, and then we can order something in to eat."

They were all agreeable to that plan, so Shelby grabbed his shirt from the
chair that it was sitting on and threw it over his arms, leaving it
unbuttoned.  He ushered them out of the room, shut off the lights, and
closed the door, then returned them to the entrance and directed everyone to
the elevator.

It was a tight fit with the six of them in the car, and Shelby found himself
pressed up against Justin and Lance a little more than was entirely
comfortable.  He hit the button for the second floor and waited as the doors
slid closed.

"What's on the fifth and sixth floors?" JC asked, indicating the panel.
"You said you have the first four."

"It's living quarters as well, but not mine," Shelby replied, then fell
silent.  He noticed another shared look among them, but he didn't elaborate.

When the doors opened again, they got out and found themselves in another
entrance just like the one on the first floor, only this one had no door to
the street and was smaller.  Once again, there was a single set of double
doors set into the wall beside the elevator.  Shelby stepped up to them and
slid them open, inviting the guys into the apartment.

Stepping through the doors was like stepping from night into day.  The
entranceway was stark and industrial-looking, with no decoration at all.
The apartment was warm and inviting, and very posh-looking.

"Come on in, guys," Shelby invited, walking past them and into the living
room of the apartment.  It was a huge room, taking up a large portion of the
floor.

"Holy crap," Justin said with a smile, looking around at the room.  "This is
incredible!"

"Nice, huh?" Shel said.  "It's my favourite room in the entire place."

It was separated into two sections by the furniture.  There was an area that
was clearly meant to be a sitting/reading area, with lamps by the chairs and
a fireplace set into the wall.  Bookshelves lined the room, broken up here
and there by a lamp or a picture on the wall, and the shelves were
completely packed with books of every type.

The other half of the room looked decidedly under-used.  It's focal point
was the bigscreen television set into a cabinet, with a massive stereo
system built into the cabinet as well.  All of the furniture looked to have
been designed with a mind both to comfort and appearance.  It was very
inviting, but the kind of stuff that you'd be afraid to put your feet on at
the same time.

"Why don't you guys have a seat in here?  Watch some TV or something while I
get showered and changed, and then we'll see about dinner and I'll give you
the rest of the tour."

"Yeah, sure," Lance told him with a smile.  "Take whatever time you need."

Shelby smiled back, and was positive that Lance's eyes lingered on the bit
of his upper-body that was visible between the unbuttoned halves of his
shirt.  "Okay then.  The remote's on top of the TV.  Music selection is
rather limited, I'm afraid.  But make yourselves at home, and I'll be back
in a few minutes."  They all nodded or voiced their approval, and Shelby
turned and headed for his bedroom.

As soon as they heard the door close, JC turned to Lance.  "What exactly
does this guy do, Scoop?  I mean, he's good with the woodworking, but I
can't imagine that pays the bills on this place."

"I don't know exactly what he does.  He told Chris and I that he was a
caretaker.  Maybe this is what he takes care of.  Maybe he's like a
housesitter or something."

"Maybe he takes care of whoever lives on the fifth and sixth floors," Justin
suggested, dropping onto the couch in front of the TV with a sigh.  "Oh, you
have got to sit down, guys.  This thing is so comfortable!"

They all laughed and took seats as well, Joey stopping to grab the remote
off of the TV.  He turned it on and started flipping through the channels
while they continued to talk.  "Maybe he's just got money," he said, looking
around at them.  "I mean, maybe he inherited it, or made a killing in the
stock market, or invented velcro or something."

"But why does he have to be here so much?  I mean, what's so important about
his being around in his workshop?"

"I don't know, guys.  All he said was that he was a caretaker of sorts, and
that it left him with a lot of time on his hands.  He's got to be in the
building, but I don't think he's got a lot of specific things he has to do.
He had the time to learn Arabic in his spare time, for crying out loud.  I'd
imagine that the carving is a hobby for him.  Something to fill the day."

"Judging from the discussion we had at the bookstore," Chris added, "I'd say
he spends quite a bit of his time reading, too.  He had an opinion on every
book we bought today.  And considering that there's more books in this room
than some libraries own, I'd say it's a safe bet."

They turned their attention to the screen and settled in, deciding to wait
and see what Shelby decided to share with them when he returned.

JC stood up and started looking through the small collection of CDs that
were in the cabinet below the stereo.  "No wonder he didn't know who you
guys were," he laughed, holding up a few cases.  "This is all classical
stuff.  I don't think there's a single CD in here that has vocals on it."

"See?  I told you he wasn't just fooling around about not knowing," Lance
told them.  He and Chris had had a hard time convincing them to go to
Shelby's apartment.  None of them had entirely believed that he hadn't known
them.  Not out of any concieted notion that everyone knew them, but just out
of caution.  There was no telling what kind of whack-jobs were out there.

"Fine, Scoop, we believe you," Joey laughed from his chair.  "Now calm
yourself down before you give yourself a heart attack or something."

"What are you talking about?"

"Please," Chris joined in.  "You've been giving him the eyes since we got
here."

"I have not!"

"Just be careful," JC counselled, sitting down beside Lance and looking him
in the eye.  "He knows that there's at least a possibility that you might be
interested in him.  That's probably enough for now.  Don't get carried away.
  We're only here for a couple of days, remember."

"We're only anywhere for a couple of days," Lance returned, a trace of
bitterness in his voice.  "I don't know if there's anything going to happen
between Shel and I, but I'm not going to use the fact that we're only here
for a short time as an excuse not to try and find out.  It's hard enough
meeting someone, and if we start thinking that way, none of us will find
anyone.  I like him, guys.  There's something about him.  I get the feeling
that he's a complex guy, like a puzzle."

"And boy do you want to solve him," Justin laughed, getting himself a punch
in the leg from Lance.  "Seriously, man, you know we're only kidding around.
  At the very least, it looks like you might have a friend here.  I mean,
how many people on the planet know what he already knows about you?"

"Let's just drop it, okay?" Lance asked, looking around at his friends.
"Let's just try and have a good time, and see what happens."

They all agreed and went back to the TV, waiting for Shel to return so that
they could figure out what they wanted to do about dinner.


==============

Shelby, meanwhile, was standing in the shower with the spray hitting him
square in the chest, trying to figure out just what he was doing.   It had
definitely been a strange day.  First, the strange reaction to meeting Lance
and Chris, mostly Lance, and his odd aversion at seeing him walk back out of
his life as quickly as he had walked in.  Then the sudden invitation to
dinner.  It had been at least a couple of years since he had been on a date,
and there we was inviting a total stranger out to dinner.

Without a doubt the topper of the day had been inviting everyone to the
apartment.  That was practically unheard of.  With the exception of delivery
people, he could only remember having had two others in the apartment.  One
had been a guy he had picked up in a bar one night, and he had only been
there once, just long enough for sex and then right back out the door.  The
other had actually been what could be termed a boyfriend.  He and Shelby had
dated for a month or so, and had spent most nights in the apartment so that
Shelby could be there if needed.

Other than those two, he had never invited anyone into his home.  Now he was
showering with five complete strangers waiting a couple of rooms away.  Of
course, the five of them were there only because it was the only way to get
the one that he was actually interested in seeing into the apartment.  But
still, he was having a hard time making sense of his actions, and that
wasn't something that he had much experience dealing with.  Normally, he
reacted, rarely taking the first step.  That day, he had done it several
times, seemingly without thinking.

Realizing suddenly that he had been in the shower much longer than normal,
he rinsed off and turned the water off, then toweled dry and walked back
into the bedroom.  It was a large room as well, since it was the only
bedroom on the floor.  He went immediately to the dresser and pulled out a
pair of black boxer-briefs and slipped them on, then headed to the closet.

Throwing the doors back, he was greeted with night.  Every article of
clothing that Shelby owned was black.  There was no real reason for it,
except that he liked the colour and it made it easy to figure out what to
wear.  He was a very blunt and straight-forward person, and his clothes
tended to reflect that.  Grabbing a pair of cargo pants like the ones he had
been wearing, he pulled them on.  After adding a black t-shirt, he closed
the closet doors again and took a moment to run his fingers through his hair
before leaving the room again and walking down the short hall to the living
room.

He found everyone sitting mesmerised by the TV, and smiled.  He watched a
grand total of about five hours of television a week.  Monday through Friday
he watched the evening news, and that was it.  His parents had never seen
the use of the TV, and he had inherited that view for the most part.  It was
useful as a method of gathering information, but so were the three different
newspapers that were delivered every morning.  As for keeping his mind
occupied, he had his carving and reading to take care of that.  TV was a
tool for him, rather than a way of life.

Lance looked up from the couch and smiled at him, and he found himself
smiling back.  There was definitely a connection forming there, and Shelby
wasn't sure what to think about it.  It was happening outside of his
control, and that was so rare that it was almost frightening.  At the same
time, it's rarity was exciting to him.  "Did you guys decide on what you
wanted for dinner?"

"Pizza."

"Mexican."

"Italian."

"Chinese."

"No," Lance laughed.  "We didn't.  You have any suggestions?"

Shelby thought about it for a minute, and then shrugged.  "Any of those is
fine with me.   I don't cook much, so I'm good with just about every kind of
take-out there is."  Moving further into the room, he took a seat in the
last available chair, marvelling at how full the room seemed with more than
just himself in it.

"Mexican it is," Justin said decisively, and everyone laughed.  They argued
good-naturedly about it, but in the end they agreed with Justin, and Shelby
picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

Seeing them all looking at him, he smiled.  "I told you I don't cook much."
He took everyone's preferences and placed the order, then gave them his
address and phone number, telling them to put it on his account, then hung
up.  "They'll be here in about half an hour."

"You have an account there, too?" Chris asked.

"When you call as often as I do, it makes everything a lot easier.  They
send a bill every month, and it gets paid all at once," Shelby explained
with a smile.  He actually had accounts at several places around the city.
It was rare that he needed to carry cash with him at all.  "How about we
finish the tour?"

"Sounds good," Joey agreed, shutting off the TV and putting the remote back
on top of it.

Shelby led them down a small hall and pointed out the second bathroom on the
floor, then into the kitchen.  It was neat as a pin, underlining his
statement that he didn't cook much.  He basically used it as a place to
store his plates and utensils for when he ordered out.  Carrying on through
the kitchen, they entered another small hall, and into his bedroom.

"This is my room, and it's got it's own bath," he said, indicating the door
on the far wall.  Two walls of the room contained large windows, bathing the
entire space in light.  They looked around themselves, but not too closely.
It was Shelby's private space, after all.  He turned around and they
followed him back out into the living room, then into the entrance, where he
pressed the button for the elevator.  Since they were the only ones who had
used it, the doors opened immediately.

A short ride later, they were stepping out into an identical entrance to the
one on the second floor.  When Shelby opened the doors, they went in ahead
of him.  The floor plan was similar to the one for Shelby's apartment, but
it was modified to accomodate four guest bedrooms instead of one master, and
it had two bathrooms just like Shelby's private floor did.  The living room
and kitchen were smaller than the floor below, but still had lots of room.
Shelby took them through the space, then returned them to the elevator for
one more trip.

Throwing the doors open to the fourth floor, he smiled as the guys all
gasped.  The fourth floor space was entirely open.  It was supported with
pillars here and there rather than walls, and housed a small gym/workout
area as well as a games area.  There was only one bathroom on this floor,
located in the corner, next to the workout space so that you could grab a
shower when you were done.

At the back center of the floor, there was a kitchenette of sorts.  It was
basically a cubicle, with two walls jutting out from the back wall, and a
counter marking the fourth boundary.  All it was used for was stocking
refreshments for those using the floor.

The main draw of the room was the games area.  There were two pool tables, a
section marked off specifically for darts so that no one got a wayward shot
in the head, a foosball table, an airhockey table, and another bigscreen TV.
  Everyone seemed to enjoy that part of the tour the most, and split up to
check it out.  Chris and Joey went straight for the air hockey, while Justin
and JC grabbed some cues and began a game of pool.

Lance smiled, watching them all and knowing that they were enjoying
themselves.  He knew that they were there only because he had asked them to
be, so that he could get to know Shelby better.  They wouldn't have let him
come alone, and when they saw how much he wanted to be there, they had all
backed him up.

"You play?" Shelby asked him, breaking his concentration.

"Huh?"

"Pool.  You wanna play?"

"Oh, sure," Lance said with a smile, taking the cue that Shelby held out for
him.


Ten minutes later, their play was interrupted by a buzzing from the doorway
leading to the entrance.  "That's the food," Shelby said, noting their
confused looks.  "The buzzer's connected to each floor so that I can hear it
wherever I am.  I'll go down and get it.  Why don't you guys finish up here,
and then meet me back in my apartment?"

"I'll come along," Lance offered, putting the cue back in the rack on the
wall as Shelby did the same.  "Help you carry everything."

Shelby smiled, hearing one of the other guys chuckle, and nodded.  "Sure.
We'll meet you guys downstairs?"

They all assured him that they'd be right down, and he and Lance left them,
getting into the elevator again.  Just before they got on, Shelby thumbed a
button on an intercom set beside the doors.  "I'm coming," he said, then
released the button and got in beside Lance, pressing the button for the
first floor.

When they got out of the elevator, the doors closed and they heard it
heading back up for the rest of the guys.  Lance followed Shelby to the
door, and watched as he punched a series of numbers into the keypad there.
A moment later, they heard the lock release, and Shelby pulled the door
open.  Greeting the delivery guy, he passed the bags to Lance, then reached
into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills for a tip.  Once that was
done, he closed the door and the locks engaged again.

"You're locked up tighter than Fort Knox," Lance commented with a laugh as
he handed a couple of the food bags back to Shelby.

"That's the idea," he heard Shelby mumble as he reached out and pressed the
button for the elevator.  They were going to have to wait for it this time.
"That's part of the job," he said louder for Lance's benefit.  The elevator
chimed, and the doors opened before Lance could even think about asking for
more information.  They stepped on and Lance reached out, pressing the
button for the second floor.

When they got to the apartment, they found the rest of the guys parked in
front of the TV again, laughing along with some sitcom that they had found.
Seeing the food, they sat up immediately.  Shelby put the bags he was
carrying on the coffee table, and Lance followed his example.  When Shelby
went for plates and utensils, Lance sat down on the end of the couch and
started to unpack the food.

The TV landed on MTV while they ate, turned down so that they could talk.
About half-way through the meal, Shelby looked up to find himself looking at
Lance.  But Lance was sitting beside him.  "Hey, that's you," he said,
pointing at the screen.

Lance looked up as well, following his finger, and started to laugh.  "Yeah,
that's me.  Us, I guess," he said.

Shelby looked at the smiles on the rest of the guys, then grabbed the remote
off of the table and turned the TV up.  Immediately, the room was flooded
with sound as he listened to the last minute or so of the song, watching as
his dinner companions danced around on his TV screen.  When the video was
over, he muted it again and looked around him.  "You wanna explain that?"

"I can't believe you really don't know who we are," JC said with a smile.
"I mean, Scoop said you didn't, but..."

"Who the hell are you?"

Justin laughed.  "We're *NSync."  Shelby sat there, looking at him as if
waiting for a real answer to his question.  Finally, Lance gave him one.

"We're a group called *NSync.  A pop group.  Believe it or not, we're
actually kinda popular."

"The name sounds a little familiar, but I really have no idea what you're
talking about," Shelby said with a slight smile.  "I understand what you're
saying and everything, but I don't know anything about you as a group."

"You don't really get out much, do you?" Joey asked, earning a glare from
Lance.

Shelby caught the glare and smiled even more despite himself.  "No, Joey, I
don't get out much at all.  And I don't watch TV except for an hour of news
every night.  I read the papers every day, but I skip the entertainment
section."

"What do you do with your time, then?"

"Well, you know that I carve.  That takes up quite a bit of my time and
attention.  I read a lot, too.  I've read pretty much every book in the
building.  I just never really saw the point in TV and stuff like that.  I
watch the occasional movie, but not often.  My musical tastes are pretty
narrow and boring."

"I noticed," JC laughed.  "I checked out your CDs."

Shelby nodded.  "I don't even really listen to those.  They're background
music while I read.  I can hum along with the songs, but I couldn't name one
if you paid me.  Sorry for not recognizing you guys, but I'm pretty out of
touch with the world when it comes to stuff like that."

"Don't apologise," Lance assured him.  "It's nice to be around someone who
has absolutely no idea that we're anything more than five friends hanging
out."

"Yeah," Justin agreed.  "You not knowing anything about us is pretty cool.
At least we know that you're not after us for money or fame or anything."

"Not that you'd need the money," Chris added.  "From the look of this place,
maybe we should be hitting you up for a loan."  They all laughed and agreed
with him, talking about how much they liked his apartment.

"Well," Shelby said slowly, deciding to end the mystery for them.  "As much
as I'd like to take credit for this place, it's not mine.  I live here, but
I'm more of a tenant."

"Still, you must have some cash just to be able to afford the rent," JC
pointed out.  "This place has to run a pretty penny."

"I'm sure it would, but I don't pay rent either."

"Sweet," Joey said with a smile.  "Then when you said you're a caretaker,
you meant that you take care of this place for the owner, and he lets you
stay here for free?"

"Yes and no.  I do have to take care of the apartment, and the other three
floors that I have use of.  But that's not what the real job is."

"Then what exactly is it that you do?" Justin asked.  "And where do I sign
up?"

"For that, you're going to have to sit through a little longer story.  The
job has become my life, basically, and so to tell you what is, I'll have to
start with what was."

"Listen, Shel, if you don't want to tell us all of this, you really don't
have to.   Like you said this afternoon, it's complicated."

"It's okay, Lance," Shelby assured him with a nod.  "It's a bit more complex
than I care to be getting into over a quick cup of tea, but it's okay.  If
you all want to hear it, that is."

They all assured him that they really did want to hear his story, so he
began, taking a sip of his drink and clearing his throat.  He began looking
directly at Lance.  "I told you earlier that my parents died when I was
fifteen.  We had been here in New York for several years at that point.
Before moving here, I lived lots of different places.  We were in Seattle
when I was born, but I don't have any memories of it.

"My first memories are of our apartment in Mississippi, and by then we had
already moved from Seattle to Arizona, from Arizona to Maine, and then from
Maine to Mississippi."

"Scoop's from Mississippi," Joey pointed out with a smile, watching his
friend blush.

"Ah, Scoop, is it?" Shel asked Lance with a smile, remembering Chris calling
him 'Scoo' in the bookstore.  Lance nodded and gave him back a smile.  "And
I knew about him being from Mississippi," Shelby responded to Joey's
statement.  "Chris told me today at the bookstore."

"Why did you have to move around so much?" JC asked quietly.  Until then,
they had all been giving Shelby their undivided attention, a fact not lost
on him.  As unused to company as he was, being the center of attention for a
group even as large as this one was a little disconcerting for Shelby.

"My father was a carpenter.  Self-employed for the most part, but he used to
pick up a day here and there with a local company when he could.  My mother
was a journalist, and dad's flexible working arrangement meant that she
could move to wherever the really good work was, and bring us along.  She
did the whole 'roving reporter' thing until we settled here in New York.
She landed a permanent position here, and here is where we stayed until they
died.

"When they passed away, I was alone.  Both of them were only children, and
my grandparents were all dead as well.  There might have been a great-aunt
or something somewhere who could have taken me in, probably back in
Scotland.  But I didn't give them much of a chance to find one.  I spent two
nights in the temporary home they placed me in, and then I ran away."

"Where'd you go?" Justin was sitting forward in his chair, as was Lance.
"How come you left the home, and where did you go when you left it?"

"Shh, Just.  Let him talk," Chris urged, then nodded at Shelby, telling him
to continue.

"As for why I left," Shelby said, looking at Justin to answer his question.
"I thought that it would save everyone a lot of trouble.  They wouldn't have
to search for family I didn't even know, and they wouldn't have to house me
and find me somewhere to live.  I wouldn't have to follow along like a puppy
on a leash.

"One of the first things I was told was that, if they couldn't locate any
family of mine, it would be next to impossible to place me in a home.
Apparently, most people want a baby, not a fifteen-year-old orphan.  I knew
other kids who had been placed by the system, and I had heard more than
enough horror stories of mistreatment from them.  Putting it all together, I
thought I was probably better off on my own."

"At fifteen?" Lance gave Shelby a sad look, thinking about all of the things
that would face a fifteen year old kid on his own.

Shelby nodded, perhaps sensing some of Lance's thoughts.  "Yeah, at fifteen.
  I found myself alone on the streets of this fabulous city.  It got pretty
scary pretty fast, let me tell you.  You never really realize how vulnerable
you are out there until you have your destination taken away from you.  When
you've got nowhere to go, you've got nowhere to hide when you need to.
Nowhere to stand and look out at everyone else and convince yourself that
it's not so bad."

He stopped for a moment, taking another drink.  It had been a long time
since he had had to tell anyone about all of this, but it was coming
surprisingly easy.  He didn't know whether that was because he was growing
beyond it, or because he was telling it to people who he felt were genuinely
interested in being his friends.  Still trying to figure that out, he began
to speak again.

"I got by.  Not always in the best way, but in the best way that I knew how.
  I got in my share of trouble, too.  Shoplifting, petty theft,
prostitution..." he noticed all of their eyes open wider at that last one.
"Stuff like that.  Anything to get my next meal.  Everytime the police
picked me up, they took me back to the home, and everytime they took me back
to the home, I ran away again.  I don't think they really put much effort
into finding me.  Especially after I started to near 18.  After that, I
wouldn't be their responsibility anymore.  So, for about two years, I got
by.  I lived on the street and did what I had to do to survive.  If that
meant stealing a purse to pay for some food, or stealing the food directly,
I did it.

"Shortly before my 18th birthday, I managed to land a job.  Not much, but it
paid enough for me to go in on a shitty little apartment with a couple of
other kids that I knew.  At least I knew where I was going to be sleeping at
night.

"You see, when things got really bad - when I was sick or starving to death,
basically - I would go to a shelter.  All of the people made me nervous, so
I would never stay the night there.  I went and got a hot meal, and then hit
the bricks again.  One night, I was in one of the shelters, getting over
what I now think was probably a mild case of pneumonia.  While I was
standing in line for food, one of the servers noticed me and pulled me out
of the line.

"He pulled me past everyone else and into the kitchen, where he just stood
there, looking me over.  I thought he was going to try to make a move on me,
try to proposition me, and I was so busy trying to figure out how much I
could get away with charging that I totally missed what he said to me."

"That he wanted to give you a job," Joey concluded, looking at Shelby and
everyone else while he waited for confirmation.

Shelby nodded with a smile.  "That's exactly it.  It turned out that the
guy, whose name was Bob, owned a catering company and volunteered at that
shelter a lot.  He had had one of his servers quit that day, needed to
replace them right away, and saw an opportunity to help someone out.  He
pulled me out of the crowd because I looked 'respectable' as he put it.  I
was clean-cut, had no scars or tattoos visible, or any of that.  Aside from
looking tired and too thin, there was nothing to say that I was living on
the streets.  Just about every other person I knew those days had marked
their status somehow, either with scars from fighting, tattoos, piercings,
that sort of thing.  I had none of that.

"He checked me over, looking at my arms for needle-marks even, and then
offered me the job.  When I accepted it, he made me sit down in a corner of
the kitchen, and he brought me my tray of food.  Once his shift was over, he
took me home with him to go over what I was going to be required to do.

"At this point, I realized that he could be some whacko just getting me
alone, but it was too late and I was too weak to do anything anyway.  Turned
out that I was okay.  For the next few days, I stayed with him and his
family.  I slept for hours on end, and his wife fed me until I thought I
would explode.

"He taught me how to serve properly, and how to look and act while I was
working, too.  I continued to stay with him until I was able to save enough
to go in on the apartment, and then I moved out on my own, finally finding
some security.  When I left, he and his wife even gave me a suitcase full of
clothes that belonged to their oldest son, and had me over for dinner every
Sunday."

"They sound like nice people," Lance said with a happy smile, glad to
finally be to the part of the story where things started to look up for
Shelby.  Hearing about his hard times had been difficult on all of the
group, but Lance felt it especially.  He had been right about Shelby being
like a puzzle, and he was giving them some of the pieces with his story.
They were less happy than Lance would have liked, but they were welcome
nonetheless.  Anything to get to know this guy better.

"They were terrific.  They gave me back what I had had with my family.  He
passed away a couple of years ago, unfortunately.  Cancer, the papers said.
I hadn't seen him in several years, and when I tried to contact his wife, I
was told that she had moved, and that they didn't know the new number or
address.

"I worked for him for four months.  It gave me enough money for rent and at
least two square meals a day, which was two more than I had often gotten
before he hired me.

"One night, in the middle of a party we were catering, I felt a tap on my
shoulder.  When I turned around, I found myself face to face with a guy who
I recognized instantly.  He had been a...client...of mine perhaps a year
before.  He had paid me well, but he had also very nearly broken me in two."

"Why?" Justin asked, not catching on.

Shelby could see the realization dawning in Lance's eyes, as well as JC's.
Lance was about to step in and remind Shelby that he didn't owe them the
story, and didn't have to say anything more, but Shelby continued before he
got the chance.

"This guy liked it rough.  Very rough," he said, seeing it click for Chris,
Joey and Justin.  They all looked shocked at hearing Shelby speak so frankly
about the things that he had been forced to do just to survive.  If they had
known him a little better, they likely wouldn't have been quite so
surprised.  He was a very straight-forward person, with little use for
beating around the bush.

"When he saw me at the party, he thought it was the perfect opportunity for
an encore performance.  He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me into one of
the bedrooms, and I panicked.  Something in me just snapped, and I freaked
out.  For this encounter, I had the advantage of actually eating and
sleeping on a regular basis, and I was a lot stronger than he remembered me.
  I threw the tray I was carrying at him and started to scream for help,
kicking and hitting him as though my life depended on it."

"Good for you," Lance said, sounding oddly proud.  Everyone in the room
caught the tone in his voice, and they all nodded their agreement with the
sentiment, if not the depth of the feeling behind it.  "He had no right to
expect anything from you."

"That's not entirely true.  I mean, a few months before, I would have been
more than happy to see him reaching for his wallet.  For all he knew, I was
just street-trash playing dress-up for a night."

"He still shouldn't have been taking advantage of you like that," JC pointed
out.  "That's just not right."

Shelby smiled sadly.  "Not much in my life was right during those years.
But he didn't get me that night.  Bob heard the noise and came running from
the kitchen, but by then I had already taken care of it.  With the kicks I
gave him, and where I gave them to him, I don't think he would have been
picking up any other guys for quite a while, and I would have loved to have
been a fly on the wall when he had to explain it all to his wife."

Justin started to laugh.  "Dirty fighting, man, but I love it.  Should have
hacked it off instead of just kicking it."

The comment broke the tension in the room, lightening the mood considerably.
  Shelby finished off his drink and leaned back in his chair, pulling one
leg up under him.  "The story gets interesting from there."

"Yeah, it's been pretty boring so far," Chris joked while rolling his eyes.

"Well, I suppose the first bit's kinda interesting, but try telling me that
after you've lived it," Shelby returned with a small smile.  "But the party
that night was actually in this building.  Sixth floor that you mentioned
earlier, JC?"

"Yeah?"

"Formal dining room, with guest bedrooms at one end of the floor and an
entertainment suite at the other."

"What about the fifth floor?"

"It's an apartment similar to mine, but with a little different layout.  But
the sixth floor is the one that we're dealing with at the moment.  That's
where the party was held, and that's where I lost my job as a caterer."

"Bob fired you?  For sticking up for yourself?" Joey asked incredulously.

"Not exactly.  He let me go when a better offer came along.  You see, the
man who was hosting the party took an interest in me after he saw the way I
handled the man who tried to grab me.  He took Bob aside, found out my
story, and then he offered me the job I have now."

"You lost me," JC laughed.  "He saw you kick a guy in the nuts repeatedly,
and offered you a job taking care of his apartment?"

"Sort of," Shelby nodded.  "You see, this entire building is owned by a man
named Jackson Davis.  He's the man I work for now, and he's the one who was
hosting the party.  When he saw what I did, he found out who I was and where
I came from, and then he offered me the job taking care of this place."

"So you're a house-sitter?"

"No, I take care of things.  Whatever needs to be done.  Jackson asks me to
do something, and I do it.  If he needs groceries, I go shopping or I'm here
to receive the delivery.  If he needs something delivered, I deliver it.  If
he doesn't want to be disturbed, I make sure that he doesn't get disturbed.
Basically, I take care of him and whatever he needs.  Taking care of the
floors that I use is part of the secondary deal of my living here rent-free.
  Instead of rent, I keep up the place."

"So you're a companion?"

Shelby surprised them by smiling.  "I don't think Jackson is capable of
having a companion.  Not any more, at least.  He just sits up there and
takes care of his money, I guess.  I don't really chat with him much."

"Sits up there?" Chris asked.  "What are you talking about?"

"He's got the fifth and sixth floors," Shelby answered.  "They're his
personal apartments, and he takes care of them.  I take care of the rest,
and for all intents and purposes, it's mine.  He hardly ever comes out of
his own space."

"He's up there now?"

Shelby nodded.  "He's up there just about all day every day.  He's
practically a recluse."

"That's kinda creepy," Justin said, looking up at the ceiling, even though
there were several floors between him and the 'creepy' Jackson Davis.  "He
just sits up there?"

"Well, it's not like he has a hundred cats or anything.  He's got one.  But
his apartment is basically a communications centre.  He's got business
contacts all over the world.  He doesn't leave the apartment, but he takes
care of business through emails and phone calls and stuff like that."

"Why doesn't he leave?"

"I'm not really sure, JC.  One thing that I learned early is that he rarely
answers questions about himself.  From what I gather, it's got something to
do with the death of his wife.  As I understand it, she was killed in a
robbery attempt several years before I came to work for him.  After that, he
shut himself away upstairs.  He does come out occasionally, but it's not
often."

"So he just has everyone come here for parties?" Lance asked.  "That seems a
little odd.  He never goes out and sees anyone, but he'll throw a big
catered event."

"The party is thrown once a year, on the anniversary of his wife's death,"
Shelby said simply.  "He started it so that the people that they had in
their life could all gather together and remember her, without his having to
leave the building.

"The only times he leaves are for trips to his other homes.  He and his wife
had a few of them, and every three months, he takes a week and travels to
one of them.  I managed to talk to his driver once, and apparently Jackson
couldn't bear to part with them.  So, he takes little vacations to remember
her in their favourite places.

"I don't travel with him.  I understand that he's got people like me in
every stop, making sure that things are kept up.  I'm the only one that
deals with him on a regular basis, though.  For those weeks that he's away -
four a year - I'm allowed to do as I please.  Since it's only a week, no one
needs to take care of this place, and I can travel."

"You only get a week off every three months?" Lance asked him, his eyes
widening.  "How do you stand it?"

"Like I told you before, I have most of the day to myself.  There are
sometimes stretches of several days where I don't hear a thing from Jackson.
  The only thing is that I have to be in the building, just in case he needs
me.  I have certain blocks of time that I arranged to be outside, like my
trips to the bookstore every week and stuff like that, but aside from that,
I just have to be here in case I get the call.  Nights are different.
Usually, four nights a week, he's got a group of three friends who come to
stay with him, and I have the night off.  I don't know what they do up
there.  Maybe he's got a hot poker game going or something.  All I know is
that I'm not needed in the building then.  I take a lot of walks at night."

"So let me get this straight," Chris said.  "You kick a friend of his in the
nuts at a party remembering his dead wife, and he offers you a job?  And as
long as you stick around the building most of the time, you get to stay here
rent-free and do whatever you want?"

Shelby smiled.  "Sounds strange, I know.  I thought he was kidding when I
first heard it, too.  But Bob convinced me that he was serious, and that it
was a great opportunity for me.  It might seem like a weird thing, but
Jackson really does need *someone* here, if he's not going to be going out
himself.  It might as well be me.  The pay's good, and without rent, I'm set
for as long as he wants me.  There's not really even anything that I need to
spend money on, except for books, and art supplies.  Jackson takes care of
the rest."

"Sweet," Justin laughed.  "I think we need to hang up our mics and find
weird old guys to pay us to live with them."  Everyone in the room sat and
waited for his words to sink in and for him to realize what he had said.
When it happened, he blushed immediately.  "You know what I meant!  Shelby,
I didn't mean that you and he..."

Shelby put his hands up to stop Justin's explanation.  "It's okay, I know
what you meant.  It is a pretty great situation, though some days it's hell.
  Every now and then Jackson seems to need me every second of the day for
days on end, but that's not very often.  The biggest drawback to it is that
I don't really have the opportunity to meet any people.  It's a little
tricky when you've only got a small amount of time outside of the building."

"So, do you ever see this guy?  Or does he just sit up there with his cat?"

Shelby smiled and shook his head.  "No, he doesn't just sit up there with
his cat.  I see him reasonably often, actually.  Sometimes he calls down and
asks me to join him for dinner, though that's usually around holidays.  I
think he's missing his wife more then.  I take up groceries and various
other things that he has delivered to the building, too.

"But he doesn't see anyone else, except for his three friends who come by at
night.  I was up there one time with an...acquaintance...of mine once, just
for a second.  He actually hid in the bedroom until I was finished and had
taken my friend back outside.  I think he's been insulated so long, he's
actually afraid of people now.  He barely makes more than a brief appearance
at his annual party any more."

"What's he like?" Lance asked, sitting forward.  "Is he at least nice?"

"That's hard to answer," Shel said with a distant smile.  "He's a crotchety
old man, basically.  He can be cruel on occasion, and rude a lot of the
time, but he's an okay guy.  We bicker back and forth when I'm there.  It's
like fighting, but not.  I think he likes it, really.  He's the type of guy
that most people wouldn't argue with no matter what.  I think he gets a kick
out of my giving him the shit right back that he gives me.  It's difficult
to explain, but he's alright."

"Does he know that we're here?"

"Probably noticed you coming in.  He's got a camera above the door outside,
and he knows when someone's at the door.  He hears the buzzer in his
apartment, too.  He'll be surprised as hell, but he'll just assume that
you're friends of mine.  Of course, that'll surprise him even more," Shelby
smiled.

"Why would he be surprised?"

"Well, I told you, it's hard to meet people when I'm stuck in here.  As far
as he knows, I don't have any friends.  That, and the fact that no one ever
comes here."

"No one?" JC asked.  "You never have company over?"

Shel shook his head.  "In the eight or so years that I've been here, I've
personally only ever had two people in this apartment.  As for Jackson, he's
got the poker friends, and there's the very occasional visitor for him.  His
accountant, lawyer, a computer tech, his driver, that sort of thing.  Part
of my job is keeping it that way.  To get to him, they have to go through
me."

"Boy, you do it all, don't you?  You're a house-sitter, a caretaker,
companion, foot soldier, and body guard," JC said.  He had thought he was
making a joke, and was surprised when Shelby just nodded, not smiling at
all.

"That's pretty much exactly what I am.  I do what needs doing.  No more, no
less."

All of them saw the look on his face, making it clear how seriously Shelby
took his job.  They all understood, on some level, why that was.  Following
the deaths of his parents, Shelby had become a very private person.  Out of
necessity.  Friends were made and lost in the blink of an eye on the
streets, and those who allowed themselves to trust blindly were the ones who
got burned.

Shelby had managed to land an ideal job for someone in his position.  He had
the solitude he craved not only for his work but for his psyche.  And he had
responsibilities that prevented him from entirely withdrawing.  It was a
balance that he strove to maintain, with things like his weekly outing to
the bookstore, or his very occasional foray into the local club scene.

Because of his rather unique situation, the sudden connection he felt
growing with every passing minute was a curious thing.  He didn't understand
it, but he enjoyed it.  It had been far too long since he had actually had a
friend, and now he found himself sitting with five very likely candidates
for the position.  He was, of course, rooting for one moreso than the
others.

"So, that's my story.  Enough of it, anyway."

"How old are you, anyway?" Chris asked.  "You don't look very old, and by
the sound of it, you've already had enough happen to you for three
lifetimes."

Shelby thought about that, then nodded his head.  "I can see how it would
look like that.  Then again, I would think that there's got to be some sort
of story behind  five guys making their way onto MTV, too."  Chris gave him
a rueful smile as everyone else in the room chuckled.  "And I'm 26.  Just
turned, actually."

"Chris, you're still the old one," Joey laughed.  Shelby noted the color
rise on Chris's face and smiled.  He didn't look very much older than the
rest of them, but looks could be deceiving.  Shelby himself only looked to
be 20 or so.  Justin was obviously the youngest of the group, but Shel would
have thought Joey was likely the oldest.  Maybe it was the facial hair.

"So what do you guys feel like doing now?  We could head back upstairs, if
you like.  I'm afraid the options are a little limited."

"There's always time for a game of pool," Justin smiled.  "I was kicking
JC's ass before dinner."

"You wish, Curly."

"I think that's a yes for going upstairs," Lance laughed.  "Agreed?"  He
looked around the room and found everyone nodding.  They all stood and moved
to the door, except for Shelby.

"You guys go on up.  I'll just get this stuff put away and be up in a
minute."  He bent and started gathering the food containers together, and
found Lance standing beside him.

"I'll give Shel a hand and meet you," he said, taking the containers from
Shelby with a smile.  He silently urged them all to agree and make
themselves scarce.  He wasn't planning on doing anything, really, but he
found himself wanting a few minutes alone with Shel.

They shared a quick look between them, then JC smiled and spoke for them.
"Sure thing, Scoop.  We'll see you upstairs."  He and the other three
stepped out into the hall and closed the sliding double doors behind them.

As soon as the doors of the elevator were closed and they were sure that
they couldn't be overheard, Chris asked them what they thought of Shelby.

"He seems like a nice guy," JC commented.  "A little withdrawn, maybe, but I
guess with all that he's been through, and with the way he lives, I suppose
it's natural that he'd be a little awkward with new people.  It doesn't
sound like he interacts with many people."

Justin nodded.  "I like him.  There's a look to him, like he's not sure
what's going on sometimes.  To tell you the truth, I think we might have
scared him a bit."

"Scared him?"

He nodded again.  "He said that he's only had two people in his apartment in
the entire time he's lived here, right?  That's two people in eight years.
Then suddenly, he runs into you two in the bookstore and has five strangers
sitting in his living room."

Chris shook his head, not understanding.  "I don't get it, though.  He
invited us."

"Not from what you said," Joey pointed out.  "You said that he invited
Scoop.  We're part of the deal that Lance made so that he could meet the
guy.  He knew we wouldn't let him come alone, and he sprung us on Shelby as
a condition of having dinner with him."

The doors opened, and they all got out and walked through the still-open
doors to the game room.

"At least he didn't have to put up with being star-struck on top of it, if
we did scare him a little," Joey said, picking up a cue and tossing it to
Chris.  He got one for himself and began to rack up the table that Lance and
Shelby had been using before their meal.

"That's true," JC conceded, picking up the cue he had been using before.  He
and Justin picked up their game where they had left off.  "It was kind of
nice to meet someone who hadn't even heard of us."

"It'd be really nice if Lance could hook up with him," Justin said with a
smile.  "He wouldn't have to worry about whether they were together because
he was famous."

"Yeah, but he also wouldn't have to worry about seeing him much, considering
that Shelby can't leave the building."

"We're on the road all the time anyway," Justin said.  "Though it does seem
like a weird situation, doesn't it?"

"It seems inconvenient," Chris agreed.  "But I guess even a hermit needs an
assistant, right?  As long as Shelby's happy with it, I'm not going to
criticize it.  I just hope that Lance knows what he's getting into."

"If he's getting into anything," Joey reminded them.  "They've only known
each other for a few hours."

"Did you see the way they were looking at each other, though?" Justin
smiled.  "There's something going on.  Plus, Shelby doesn't strike me as the
kind of guy who normally picks up in bookstores.  He's got to like Lance to
invite him out of the blue like that.  And what about Lance accepting?  I
mean, he's barely out to us, and here he is accepting dinner invitations
from strange men?  There's got to be something there."

"They were looking pretty friendly over dinner," JC agreed.  "And did you
catch the way he pointed us out on the TV?  It wasn't 'hey, there's you
guys.'"

Chris nodded.  "It was more like 'hey, Lance, there's you.'  We might as
well not have been on the screen at all."

"Doesn't matter, as long as Lance is happy.  They can get married if it'll
be good for him."  Joey made his shot and smiled up at them.  "And
considering that Shelby doesn't talk to hardly anyone, I think Scoop's
secret is safe either way.  He said himself that he doesn't have any
friends.  That means no one to gush to about a new relationship, or even
about knowing a secret."

"He could tell his boss," Chris pointed out, lining up his own shot.  He
missed, cursing under his breath, and stood back for Joey again.

"So he tells the hermit?" Justin laughed.  "Why would some old guy who never
leaves his apartment care that Lance is a homo?"

The other guys laughed and admitted that Justin had a point, which he
savoured.  They rarely conceded things like that to him, preferring to
pester him like the little brother that he was.  Justin was about to point
out the rarity of the moment when they heard the elevator start to rise out
in the hall, and quieted.  They all bent to their games as the doors opened.

TBC...

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Thanks.