Date: Sun, 29 Sep 2013 10:08:07 -0400
From: Andy Johnson <andywasputz@hotmail.ca>
Subject: A TALE OF SEVEN - CHAPTER FOUR - DECISIONS and CHOICES

Warning:  The usual disclaimers apply here.  If you don't like any of the
following, leave now:  gay sex, vulgar or harsh language or underage
wherever you are reading this.

This is pure fiction. No one in this story is a real person, living or
deceased. Please do not copy without my consent.

I used 'Rooming With My Best Friend" as a starting point, with the author's
consent.

You will see little references throughout this storyline.

Feel free to read Wasputz's story under the appropriate section

Additional Note: Please donate to Nifty! The Archive is to be thanked for
hosting so many stories over the years and providing a venue for our works.

I will point out this story takes place in United States and Canada, and it
seperate tales with different people in each storyline; however, all these
storylines will come together in the final chapter..

I encourage you to look for connections between the stories, and references
to 'Rooming'


I hope you enjoy this fourth chapter....  I look forward to hearing from
you. Please email me your comments, questions, critics, as I look forward
to hearing from you.

andywasputz@hotmail.ca

**********************
CHAPTER FOUR

DECISIONS AND CHOICES

MICHAEL TURNER AND PATRICK CORNER
NEW YORK CITY - November 2012

Michael was on the plane, nervous, wondering what he was about to
find. Just earlier that morning Mike and Pat were arguing over what to do
with his uncle's Oldsmobile which had been sitting in the garage for
years. They discovered that Mike's uncle had left them an old building he
had rented out when he left New York in late 1990s. Mike wasn't aware of
Connor's life in New York so learning Uncle Connor had a building there was
shocking to say the least.

Now he was exiting JFK with his partner of many years. They were on their
way to explore the building. Patrick had spent the quick flight researching
the history of the building. He learned that it opened in 1932 and that in
1949 a fire had almost demolished it. It was later converted into a hotel
under new management. The research never indicated who ran the
building. Mike assumed his uncle wanted to be low key since from the little
he knew Connor was not one to want a public spectacle.

Entering the cab, Mike looked at the city through the window with
wonder. He had never been to that city before and he was taking it all on
it. Pat on the other was more curious about the building. He couldn't put
his mind on what made him so interested with it. Maybe he and Mike could
use the building, or secretly he wondered if they could sell it and retire
with a small fortune. However that dream was put aside when the cab pulled
up to the curb in front of the Orpheus Hotel.

The outside was covered with graffiti and the front doors were boarded
shut. There were many broken windows. "What the hell happened?" Pat
wondered out loud.

"I don't know. Let's try to find a way in." Michael encouraged. This
surprised Pat as he had been the one to talk Mike in to coming here.

They walked around the building, which was a daunting feat as it took up an
amazing amount of space. There was a side door they located
eventually. Looking at each other, Mike gulped and Pat reassured him with a
pat on the shoulder as they ventured into the building.

The smell was old and dusty, but the first thing they saw was a bank of
elevators to their left. They appeared to be functioning. "Should we check
the floors?" Mike asked, almost silently.

"No, let's look around here first." Pat said confidently, staring down the
length of the room. He looked at the front doors that were still boarded
shut. He walked past the desk that seen better days and found himself
staring at an empty corner. "I wonder what used to be here."

Mike stood with his partner and shook is head, taking in the sight. There
were turned over tables and chairs. There was a display case that had some
broken glass in it. "I guess it's some kind of restaurant."

"Let's check out the other floors and see if they're usable?"

Michael was piped, "For what?" Patrick just smiled mischievously and led
him to the first elevator. Mike put out his hand, "Maybe we should check
the stairs first, just to be safe."

Pat nodded and they made their way to staircase just the right of the
elevators. The stairs were in an okay condition. Pat assumed they weren't
used as much.

The first floor had five doors, which Pat assumed were connected to their
own rooms. They went to the first one. It was understandingly locked. Mike
kicked it down, nearly falling over in the process.

"Honey, you're not that young anymore."

However, Mike was transfixed with the room. There in front of his was a
living room from the fifties or sixties. It looked brand new almost. Pat
noticed the leather was worn but in the center of the living area was
classic 1950s television. Then behind that there was small kitchen and
bar. Although the room seen better days it seemed to be in an acceptable
condition. "Let's check the bedroom."

"We didn't come here for a quick fuck, love," Pat smiled.

"True." Mike said as he led them to a room that had a king size bed in it
with two chairs, one of which was a rocking chair. Satisfied, they went to
check the other rooms on the floor. They all had a 50s air about them with
fixtures and furnishings from that era and although they were not as
pristine as they could be they seemed to work.

Patrick suggested they go to the next floors and Michael seeming to
understand what he was thinking and agreed. The second floor offered more
glamorous pieces than the first floor offered.

"I'm impressed. How can the lobby be so run down when the rooms are still
functional?"

"Why does it matter?" Mike snapped back, catching Pat off guard.

"What's wrong?"

"I mean why does it matter? I know what you want to do but we can't do it."

Pat stared at his lover, putting his hands on his hips, "And pray tell,
what was I going to suggest?"

"You want to renovate this place."

"Yes, I think we can. Not as a hotel but as an apartment complex, bring it
back to its' origins. I'm sure that's why your uncle gave you this building
when he died."

"No, he gave me a piece of junk, that's what he always gives me." Mike
stated, sitting on the bed in one of the rooms.

Pat sat next to his lover and smiled, "You know that's not true."

"The car, this building... What more evidence do you want?"

"He gave them to you so you could make them better, ever since you were
younger you had the gift of repairing things. You made gold out of straw."

"Maybe," Mike begrudgingly acknowledged.

"Come on, Mike. HE was your best friend. You guys talked so much when you
were younger. He gave you that fishing rod you gave me at the wedding. That
was his most prized possession."

"Then why did he keep his New York lifestyle a secret? Why didn't he come
to our wedding? Why did our relationship drift away in his later years?
Why?"

"I don't know. We may never know. We all have our secrets." He got up and
pulled Mike up with him, "We've got to do this. We can make this work."

"You want to move to New York and open this place up, really?"

"It would be a nice project."

"I don't know." He admitted to Pat as they walked down the hall toward the
elevators. They pressed the button. Mike thought it might be possible to do
it. It could be his retirement. The third elevator in the row opened
up. Pat checked it out and deemed it safe. He pressed the L for lobby. The
doors closed and they made it to bottom floor, not the lobby but the
basement.

As the doors swung open the pair exited the lift and entered the darkened
space. There was a noise and a lamp turned on. They found themselves
staring into the face of someone they didn't know.


***


DALLAS, TEXAS COACH HARRY WADE – January 2013

He opened the door to his office when his cell rang and he got a call from
Bianca. He was surprised to hear from her. He sat down on his chair eyeing
the envelope he was looking at earlier. Bianca was his girlfriend of many
years. They had been living together for as long as he could remember. They
had loved each other from the day they met in high school.

Bianca was an anchor now, and had been given an anchor spot two summers
ago. She had fallen in love with the position as much as she had fallen in
love with Harry. She was scheduled to take on the afternoon live sport
today, which was why Harry was surprised to hear from her.

"Honey,"

"I just wanted to know if you're free for dinner tonight." Coach Harry had
planned to go bowling with his friends and she knew that.

"Of course, my love, bowling can wait `til another time."

"I forgot. I just have some news I wanted to celebrate."

"Well then we'll go." Harry knew nine times out of ten when they celebrated
he had the most amazing sex that night, but Harry and Bianca had not had
sex in months. She knew that would be his response.

"Yeah, honey, we haven't had sex lately. I am sorry about tonight. We will
for sure."

"YES!" Harry yelled a little too loudly. "What are we celebrating...?"

"I'll tell you tonight. I love you." She hung up.

Harry wondered what the announcement was, knowing Bianca it was either she
was pregnant and or she got a promotion. They had been trying for a kid for
a while, however, lately they had been discouraged, and that was why their
sex life had suffered.

The envelope that was still waiting on his desk caught his eye again and he
picked it up. Hoping no further interruptions would cause him from reading
this letter, he opened it just as a knock on the door, causing him to
groan.

"Come in," he said and in waked his best friend and principal, Otis Arkin.

"Mr Arkin," Harry stated, "Please come in."

"Sit down Har. This is a social call." Harry relaxed.

"Well bowling tonight is cancelled I'm afraid. Bianca has some celebrating
to do."

"We both know what that means," Otis winked. Although Otis had been
principal for about two years he was only three years Harry's senior and a
certified genius, skipping most of high school altogether. But Harry and
Otis were neighbours since Harry was seven and they grew up together
sharing everything.

"Yeah, I so I can't wait for today to be over." He had another class real
soon before he called it a day.

"Well, I'll be quick. The envelope is for you. I placed it on your desk
this morning. I know you'd want to see it,"

"It's not a special VIP invite again, is it? After last March break I can't
handle another of those trips."

Otis remembered the Florida trip. It was one of many they had taken since
Harry entered College his freshman year. Harry and Otis had explored their
sexuality numerous times over the years. Although Harry and Bianca were in
love Harry was a bonafide bisexual. The trips to Florida allowed them to
expand their experiences, their last trip was all about gay
indulgences. Otis had shown him to VIP club he had learned about. There,
Otis and Harry had some of the most amazing orgies and it totally spent
Harry so much that he couldn't walk for days.

Bianca was aware of these trips and experiences. She knew that he loved her
more than anything those sexual experiences could give him. Her being a
bisexual too made it possible for her to accept this nature of her
husband-to-be.

"No, don't worry. After our last trip to Florida, even I needed a break to
get my stamina in fighting shape."

"What you need is a man in your life. You've been a bachelor for way too
long. I thought the assistant principal and you were going to try dating."

"We did last weekend, but Aaron and I couldn't find much common ground. I
would have told you but you had other pressing matters to attend too."

Harry looked ashamed. He had always strived to get his teaching lessons and
grades in order and last weekend was about getting the latest English
assignment completed. "I would have been there for you, Otis."

"Don't worry about it, back to the point at hand, read the letter."

Eying his friend suspiciously, he took the letter out of the envelope and
read the first line.

Mr Harry Wade,

                It is our pleasure to offer you a position within our ranks
at the Roosevelt School. We believe your unique qualities and experience
from your years at Dallas Regional High School will add much to our school.
                We believe you would fit right in our Creative Arts
program...

The letter continued to explain the role in which The Roosevelt School Dean
had envisioned for him. His passion was football, however, teaching young
minds had always put a soft spot in his heart. He looked to Otis, his
friend, who was positively glowing.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Harry, we're in a school, please watch the language. I did nothing. I had
a few friends over several months ago for drinks and one of them was a
member of the Roosevelt faculty who was discussing the retirement of one of
their members. Knowing your ability shape minds, not just on football field
but in classroom, and your work as an unpublished writer, you deserve that
opportunity."

Harry was shocked. The Roosevelt School was one of the best Writing Schools
in all of America. It had churned out some of best short story writers,
novelists, screenwriters and comedic writers in the country. Harry had
always wanted to go learn from their masters, but to be on their faculty he
felt honored. Although the position was relatively low ranked and he would
be given a mentor to help him with the curriculum formation he was blown
away by the offer.

Then he realized the problem. Otis noticed the change in his friend's
face. "What?"

"The Roosevelt School... it's located in Hyde Park. That's in New York
City. I'd have to move."

Otis immediately came to the same conclusion and understood the
issue. Bianca


***


RON HARRISON and ALTON FENTON PHILADELPHIA – MARCH 2013

Ron was in a meeting with his boss, Mr Granger, discussing his past poor
performance. Mr Granger had to pull him off the last project. He was
stunned. He had never been pulled off an assignment ever. He always
received the highest marks in school, he was considered a genius. And yet,
he failed.

"What should I do in the meantime?"

Arnold Granger looked at him. Arnold seemed to be thinking of a response
but in reality Ron knew what he needed to do. He needed to figure out why
he lost his passion for his job. He had the job since he left college. "I
know what I need to do."

"Yeah, I know. Ron we are going to let you take a break. Take two weeks
off. You have that much vacation time set up anyways. Go somewhere with
your boyfriend. Do something, then come back, refreshed and ready to work."

With that, Mr Granger dismissed him and Ron went back to his office
thinking about what he should do in more detail. He needed to talk to
Alton, however, he knew he was busy at the restaurant. It would have to
wait. He took the time to check his emails and messages to see if there was
anything urgent. Then he checked internet for some vacation spots.

He found the perfect place, hoping it would be just what he needed to get
some perspective. In the meantime he went for lunch with Jerry and they
talked about his boyfriend troubles. He gave him the sagest advice he could
and in the end Jerry wished him well.

Ron walked back to his car and drove to his apartment. He decided to call
Alton in what was normally the slow period for him.

"Hey Lover." Ron said as way of hello.

"Hey yourself," Alton responded with tenderness.

"Can you get away for dinner tonight?"

"Actually, I'm putting Trevor through the hoops so I need to keep an eye on
him. We can meet for drinks after."

He said goodbye and went to the computer. Ron had kept a living diary ever
since he was a little kid. The document was an event tracker of the key
events of his life. For the last few months he had been trying to turn his
life elements into an interesting prose. Alton loved his creativeness,
especially in the bedroom.

It was nearing the end of Alton's shift, so Ron headed to the O'Connell's,
their local bar. They usually met there for drinks, normally taking a
private booth and enjoying themselves. Tonight would be different.

At midnight, Alton entered the bar and grabbed his drink. The bartender
told him where Ron was and he walked over there. When Ron saw his boyfriend
the tired eyes told him tonight might not be the best time to have their
conversation.

"Long day, honey?"

"Yeah, Trevor couldn't do anything right and I had to babysit him the
entire night. However, two hours into the shift he got into a groove and I
sat back and watched him work very well."

"So what's Trevor like?"

Alton stared at his boyfriend, "He is fucking gorgeous."

"Naturally," not rising to the bait, "Are you going to tell me why your
boss wanted a new assistant manager? You've been telling me for a while
that Nick was going to promote from within and that it would be you."

"No," Alton shook his head, "We're not going to talk about me right now. I
want to discuss your meeting with Granger."

Ron held back, "No, we can discuss that tomorrow. I don't want to stress
you out."

"Well that defiantly isn't going to happen now. Did he fire you?"

Ron had mentioned his lack of focus to Alton for the last few weeks and
that he knew this meeting with Granger today was coming for some time.

"No, he gave me two weeks paid vacation," Ron frowned.

"Paid?"

"Yep, he wants me to find my passion again."

"Ronnie, why couldn't you focus? You were so good at your job."

"I don't know honey."

"We both know you're creative as hell. You always add a new twist to our
sex life. I'm still trying to recover from that ice two nights ago." Ron
had taken seven huge ice cubes and stimulated Alton in different places. It
was so hot that it made his dick cum so much that night.

"But, I can't make marketing plans like I make sex."

"Sex sells though." Alton smiled.

"Only to horny guys, like you."

"How's the novel coming along?"

At that Ron's face let up. "It's going great. I'm writing about my teenage
years and how I came out at Camp. I explained my first lover and how he
made me want to explore my sexuality as much as possible."

Alton nodded, "Go on."

"Yeah, I was even going to write about my losing to my virginity to Grant."

`So let me ask you something, when did you start writing this story?"

"About six months ago?"

"And you started losing your interest in your work projects?"

"I wouldn't say I'm losing interest..."

"Honey, you haven't been on top of your game for a long time, not like when
you started."

Ron was tired, "Okay, what's you point Al?"

"I think you started losing focus on your work when you started planning
your novel."

"It's just a hobby." Ron said defensively.

"Are you sure about that? Haven't you been doing this hobby for a while
now?"

"Six months?"

"Since you were in elementary school. You told about the play you wrote for
your senior class and then you had been writing plays for a long
time. Admit it. Marketing was never your passion."

Ronnie thought about it. Alton was right. He had thought about why he chose
marketing in college. The reason was because the work was easy and he would
have that degree to fall back on. However it turned out that not only was
he skilled at it, there were areas that he found quite fascinating. By the
time he graduated he had a dream job and he was so focused and passionate
about the work.

In time, however, when he was creating a new document for one of his
clients, he discovered one of his old plays he had written in high school,
which was his horrible take on a musical. Then every night before he went
to bed he would make it better, scene by scene. Eventually he finished the
lengthy piece and posted it online to mediocre reviews. Alton suggested
creating another story about him. That was when he discovered the journal
he had forgotten and started turning that into his masterpiece.

"You're right, I have been passionate about my writing. I just forgot about
it."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

The response shocked Alton.



THE TRAVELLER OUTSIDE OF OREGON – MAY 2013

"Hello." The traveller was brought back to the present and noticed a car
had stopped on the highway and the driver had opened his window to
talk. "Are you alright?" He said.

"Yes," The Traveller grinned.

"You don't recognize me?"

He looked at the face again and was shocked.

The man smiled again, "Hello dear brother. It's been awhile."

The face on the traveller betrayed no hint of emotion other than shock. He
hadn't seen his two years younger brother in over five years. "Hello,
Thomas."

He loved his brother, but Thomas being here brought back so much pain it
was hard for the Traveller to think straight. The obvious question came
from his lips.

"How did you find me?"

"You mean because you never left any forwarding address or shit like that?
Or because you left no note, you just disappeared in the middle of the
night?"

Before he could respond to his brother, Thomas punched him in the face. The
impact instantly broke the Traveller's nose. The blood poured. To Thomas's
surprise the Traveller didn't fight back or do anything. Thomas punched him
in kidney and then the ribs for good measure. Thomas was completely and
utterly angry.

The traveller knew Thomas had to get out the rage and he deserved all this
abuse over the years of neglect on his part. It was the only thing he
needed. Three minutes later Thomas finally stopped punching him. He sat on
the curb and uttered a single word, "Why?"

The Traveller moved to his brother, still bleeding but ignoring it. He sat
right beside his Thomas. "It's a long story, bro."

"I deserve to know."

"You remember that night, like I do. Dad came in and he was obviously
drunk. I couldn't handle that he was about to attack mom again."

The Traveller's parents had always had a rocky relationship since he could
remember. His mother was a strong woman and put up with a lot of abuse, but
after Thomas was born things changed and she refused to see her husband
come home drunk.

He looked at Thomas and continued, "I needed to leave because I couldn't
see that again."

"You honestly believe that I would understand that? You would abandon me
and your mother to an abusive man like our father?"

"Tommy," The Traveller stated, trying to use his childhood nickname, "I
love you and left you a note explaining everything."

"You didn't leave shit. I woke up the next morning and Dad was on the couch
asleep and you were gone. Now, after a turned sixteen, I left Dad too. I
needed answers. I used some friends and located you. It took seven months,
but now I'm here. And I want the truth. NOW!"

"Bro, I left you because I needed to escape our father. That is the truth."

"Perhaps, but why did you abandon me after all we been through? We shared
lives, rooms, fuck you told me you were fucking gay."

"Tommy, listen." The Traveller waited, collecting his thoughts. Although it
was true he couldn't bare seeing his father abuse his mother anymore, that
was the not the reason.

"Bro," he began again. "I love you and I wish that note was there. It
explained that I needed to leave because of our father, but more
importantly it was because I needed to find myself. I needed to make an
impact on this world. I couldn't do that under Dad's thumb. I needed to see
the world."

"You fucking asshole." Thomas replied without thinking, "You call yourself
a brother? Why couldn't you take me with you? I was left alone without you
dealing with Dad and his outbursts."

"This was something I needed to do. And I know you were able to handle him
and you would have protected mom. I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry I haven't
come back."  The Traveller spoke the truth. "This was about my selfish
behaviour, nothing more, nothing less. If didn't leave when I did I would
never have been able to leave. Leaving you alone was the most gut-wrenching
choice I made in years. For that I am sorry and I know you won't be able to
forgive me".

What blew Thomas away wasn't the words his brother spoke, it was the
emotion behind it that made him realize how much his brother missed him. He
couldn't put into words how much he wanted to hate his brother but the
thing was he loved him more.

Thomas got up and hugged his brother. "I missed you, B. You know it will
take time, but I can forgive you. You loved me those six years and it was
that love that got me through it. Mom and Dad divorced and when I was asked
who I wanted to be with I told them you. That night I packed up and left
them to their own misery while I started my journey to find you.

"I missed you too, brother." That's all he could respond, his tears were
escaping his eyes at speeds he couldn't believe.

"Can I stay with you?" Tommy asked. The Traveller thought about it.


***


FRANKLIN BARONE and CALVIN HOBERSTER NEW YORK CITY – August 2013


Cal kissed his friend back and locked the bedroom door. Frankie then
grabbed the blindfold and put it on Cal. Before he knew it Cal was down to
his boxers on the bed as Frankie licked his entire body, "Enter me please."

Just as he was about to put his cock in him there was a knock on the
door. The knock continued and then became a banging before they knew it.

"Guys, open the door. I don't have the patience for you," The voice
announced. Calvin and Frankie were shocked that this person was aware they
were inside.

"Who the fuck is it?" Frank asked rudely.

"The guy who is going rip you to pieces if you don't open up."

Calvin opened the door. It was a man with incredible abs, long blond hair
and blue eyes. He couldn't be more than 23 or 24. Instantly Frankie knew
who the guy was and without thinking it through his mouth opened.

"Kris?"

"How the fuck did you know my name?"

Thinking fast, Calvin answered for his friend, "It's written on your name
tag". The name was spelled Chris, not Kris. Chris was the maintenance man
or janitor by the coveralls he was wearing.

"You guys must be Calvin and Frankie, the potential tenants here at the
Orpheus."

That comment surprised the friends again, "How do you know that?"

"Remember the old man upstairs who checked you for clearance on the fourth
floor? Well, as you guys seemed to be in a hurry you decided not to listen
to his comment that the third elevator was closed for repair."

Frankie never heard the warning, unfortunately. "I'm sorry."

Calvin was more curious about the setting, "Where are we?"

"You are trespassing on an old tenant's building. However, now it is just
storage."

Calvin needed more information, "What was the old tenant doing here?"

"I couldn't tell you, when I started working here I was asked to make sure
this place stays clean, otherwise everyone is to stay away from it. If I
had to guess, the guy was a partier and hosted lavish swinging parties."

"Swinging?" Calvin asked. Frankie hit him on the side of the head for his
stupidity.

"Back in the 70s there were people who went home with different partners
than the ones they arrived with. These parties were ice breakers to decide
which person would be agreeable to you. However, I assume these rooms were
used for the acts of themselves."

"Quite possible," Chris agreed, as he came to that conclusion many months
ago. "Anyway guys, although you were the first people to come down here to
try out the furnishings I must ask you to come with me."

Calvin and Frankie followed Chris down the hall to the elevators. "How come
this elevator is broken?"

"It works well, the issue is this elevator only goes down here and to the
lobby. And since the management doesn't want to advertise this apartment
they tell people to use the other elevators. For the life of me they cannot
fix the problem.

"I see," Calvin admitted, unable to take his eyes of Chris. "Do you by any
chance know a guy named Matt?"

"Matt? No, why?"

"Just curious."

Chris smiled knowingly, but didn't elaborate. They exited the elevator to
the lobby and he directed them to the right lift. "I hope you guys stay
with us here. You seem like interesting dudes."

"Thanks," Frankie blushed. Frankie was well aware what Chris was implying.

As Frankie and Calvin entered the elevator to examine the apartments Chris
moved to his office just beside the front desk. The name on the door read,
"Chris Stanford, superintendent."

Chris knew about the Rooming story and knew the author had used his build
to create his character of Kris Stanton. He was pleased with his
characteristics of the complex character the author made. However, there
were many differences. For one, he never went to college, and two, he was
100 percent gay.

The owners picked him to run the place because he had some skills and was
an excellent jack of all trades in the maintenance field, learning
everything from his father. He also had used the forbidden elevator
numerous times to bring his friends in. The owners never minded that perk
of the job.

He had some plans for the new tenants. They seemed like interesting guys he
would like to know better.

Meanwhile, Calvin and Frankie were discussing Chris and his uncanny
resemblance to Kris Stanton. "My god, he was hot."

"How can he exist? He is a fucking character from a story."

"I don't care where he's from," Calvin responded, "I want to fuck him."

"You want to fuck any guy."

"Not true."

Calvin then did something he knew he had to do. He kissed his best friend
on the lips, the passion behind it was surprising to Frankie but he let it
happen. They weren't kisses like they had before, this was so much more.

Frankie stopped the kiss and Calvin stated, "I have something I need to
tell you."

*****************

Please email me your comments, questions, critics, as I look forward to

hearing from you.

andywasputz@hotmail.ca