Date: Mon, 6 Feb 2012 21:45:35 -0800 (PST)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Peter's Story 16

				Chapter 16

While Marty was spending the first weeks of the summer out in the garage
woodshop, Peter was preparing, in his own way, for the coming modeling gig.
Trying to give photography director the option to style his hair into as
many looks as possible, his agent asked him to refrain from haircuts for at
least 8 weeks.  For a guy who never let his hair go for more than a month
without getting it sheared, it was now becoming something of a minor
nuisance.

"Not a bad job," Marty remarked. "You just have to eat and sleep and watch
your hair grow, and they're going to pay you for it.  Not bad at all," he
declared as he removed his tool belt in the small side entry foyer that led
to the kitchen.

"And play, too!"

"Oh yes, can't forget that, can we?" Marty replied.  He gave him a wink and
a quick pat on the head as he pulled the hair down over Peter's eyes.

It hung down so low, almost past his nose, that with a big puff he was able
to blow it out of his face again.

"I've always had my hair kind of on the long side, but I've been pretty
regular about getting it cut, so it's never gotten this bad," he said,
holding the end of his now long locks a few inches out from his face.
"Besides looking way too long, it even feels heavy," he said with a
sigh. "I can't wait for this part to be over."

"It will be interesting to see you with a fancy haircut. I hope they have
some fun with it!" he said as he ran his hand back through Peters' mop,
further disheveling what Peter was futilely trying to control.

"Speaking of having fun, or should I say having some fun with YOUR hair, it
looks like you've got some sawdust up there," Peter said as he returned the
gesture and now vigorously ran his fingers through Marty's head, pulling,
twisting and shaking it as a first assault on all the tiny flakes of wood.

"Wow, look at all that stuff!" he exclaimed as a cloud of fine yellowish
powder was reflected in the light streaming though the side door window.
"It's the same color as your hair, so it's hard to notice when it's up
there on your head. But as floating dust it's kind of like a nimbus around
you. Very cute!"

Marty smiled and brushed his shoulders as Peter continued to shake loose as
much as he could. "I guess I should wear a hat or something in there. I've
got the mask over my mouth on all the time, but it looks like this stuff
really does get all over the place, especially when I'm cutting all
morning."

"No worries, looks like we've got the worst of it, though I bet you'll find
a lot in the shower later on. Anyway, I think you're pretty good now, so
come on in and let's eat," he said as he pulled Marty by the empty loop in
his pants.

At least for this first week, Marty's role became blue-collar carpenter,
with Peter as self-proclaimed `Hausfrau," making their lunches and taking
care of the day-to-day living tasks. He even made dinner for all of them in
the evenings, including his Dads.  It allowed Marty to focus on getting a
good start on the project and build up his confidence in actually being
able to handle the job and meet his deadline.  And for Peter it was just
relaxing.



Besides the domestic chores, Peter also gave him a hand when he had larger
pieces of lumber to move, in addition running errands for this or that tool
or piece of material from the hardware store.  While he was would never be
an expert in the woodshop, his experience helping his Pop made him familiar
with the hardware store and where to find things.

"So how is it going out there?" Peter asked as he set out sandwiches on the
kitchen countertop eating area before pulling out a stool for Marty.  "If
the sawdust is any sign, it looks like you've gotten a lot done. Not to
mention that I think I heard the table saw going practically non-stop all
morning.

"Slow, but I guess I should expect that. I'm trying to avoid calling your
Pop during the day. Luckily, he gives me pretty good suggestions and
pointers in the morning before he leaves.  And I think he's OK with the
progress, at least so far," he said as he pulled the seat underneath him.
"At least he hasn't fired me yet."

Peter passed a napkin over to Marty. "He'd let you know if he thought you
had problems, so that's a good sign."

"By the way," he added, "you've got a nice butch look with those carpenter
pants and all. Maybe you should come along with me to New York. They could
put you in a Carhartt work clothes ad or something like that."

Marty laughed.  "I'm not so sure that's me.  I think that's a different
kind of image," he continued with a chuckle.  "I'd be something of an
imposter there."

After taking another bite of his sandwich, he asked "By the way, have you
heard anything from Bik and Laura? She's due any day now."

"No, I haven't. I've got to say, they've been very weird and coy about this
whole thing. I'm sure they know the sex of the baby, but they haven't
fessed up anything about that. My Dads have tried every angle they could
think of to get it out of them, but they won't cough up anything."

"I guess they've got their reasons," Marty replied. "Though that's tough to
figure out for me, seeing how close you all are."

"Me too.  I know that people like to be conservative in this stuff. As I
think I can testify, things can get...tricky during a pregnancy. But she's
clearly full term and they both have seemed in pretty good spirits, at
least on the phone. The only thing they really say is that everything is
going OK so far and that we shouldn't worry."

"Well, all we can do at this point is to believe them. I'm sure they've got
good reasons." Marty added.

He got up and pulled a carton of cold milk from the fridge and poured them
both a glass. "You know, I actually wouldn't mind seeing one of those photo
shoots that you do. It could be kind of interesting."

Peter immediately raised his head up and looked straight back at him. "You
want to come with me! That would be great! The flights to New York aren't
that expensive... or maybe we could take the train! That would be fun! I
haven't done that in years.  We could also..."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Marty interjected, holding his turkey-and-cheese in
one hand and waving Peter down with the other. "I've already got a
commitment here for the next few weeks. Barring any change of plans, this
model is due in a month and your Pop thinks I'll be full time plus until
then."

Peter sighed. "Yeah, I know. But darn, it would be so great to have you
there! Right now I just want to get the job done and be in and out, even
though it's New York.  I'll have lunch or dinner with Wei, since he's the
only person I really know there, besides a couple of law school classmates
of my Dad's who've come to visit us. But if you came there with me, wow!
That would be so much fun!  We could really do a lot!"

Reaching over and playfully pulling on Peter's ear, he just smiled and
replied, "someday!"

						***

"I need to do this early, so I can take a final look before I go and not be
rushed. I sort of like to do tasks like this in layers, I guess. I remember
different things on different days.  I could never pack all at once, like
my Dad can do when he travels."

"Ok, let's, see," Marty said as he sat cross legged on the edge of the bed,
watching Peter throw sundry items into the large duffel bag next to him,
"I'll think of things you'll need there and you tell me if you've got
them. For example, toothbrush?"

"Check!"

"shirts?"

"Check!"

"socks?"

"Check! Plus a pair of used ones of yours, so I can sniff `em when I jerk
off." Peter said matter-of-factly.

Marty winced.  "Umm...I won't ask you about underwear, then," he replied,
reaching into his pants and tightly gripping the pair he was wearing as
they both laughed.

Marty was about to move onto the next item when they heard a call from the
kitchen below. "Hey guys, can I come up?".

"Sure, Pop, we're decent," Peter replied.  "Did you just get back from
work? You're a little late."

"Yea," Mike replied as he came up the stairs, "the usual stuff, had to
review some last minute work going out, talk to a couple employees, all
that. Anyway, I need to chat with Marty about the model."

"What's up?" Marty quickly responded as he unfolded his legs and sat at
attention on the edge of the bed.  "Is everything OK?"

"Well basically, yes.  Everything is OK," he responded, "I took a look in
the garage and the stuff looks really good out there, you've got the base
in pretty good shape and you're already putting down buildings, which is
where you need to be in the process. But the client has a change that they
want to make. It's not a lot but they need to add a few pieces to the
model."

"How much work do you think it is?" Marty asked, his feet now starting to
bounce on the floor, a nervous gesture that Peter only recently noticed.

"Actually not much at all. But I did tell them it would delay the schedule
by a week, and they were OK with that. In fact, they said we could have an
extra two weeks if we need it, as the city council meeting that they really
need it for has been delayed by a few weeks anyway."

"That's great! Wow! Excellent!" cried Peter. "Now you can come to New York
with me!"

"Whoa, Pete!...just a sec...um, let's see ..." he said. He sat thinking for
a moment, his eyes staring straight ahead, and then spoke.  "I hope that's
the case, but let me make sure that I can actually do what I need to do
first."

Then turning back to Mike, he updated him on where he was with the model,
how much he thought he had to do and how long he thought it would take. He
and Mike went back and forth for a few minutes, Peter's head likewise
moving to and fro in sync with the conversation, like he was watching a
long volley in a tennis match.

"Well, if that's the case and it looks like we're in good shape, then..."
Marty said, pausing again before turning and looking at Peter, "I think I
could take a couple days and go with you. As a chaperone, of course. Make
sure you stay out of trouble."

Peter pumped his hand toward the ceiling and cried out, `YES!' as he
playfully fell over on the bed and wrapped his hands around him,
practically knocking Marty onto the floor. "I can't wait!"

						***

"So how do you feel about things?" Marty asked. It was Sunday evening as
they settled in for their first night at the New York hotel.

Originally an old single-room occupancy flophouse, it had been transformed
into a modern designer hotel with sleek chrome furniture, sparkling
miniature light fixtures and funky abstract patterned rugs, along with
colorful art on the walls. Though theirs wasn't one of the high-end pricey
rooms, and was in fact very tiny, it had all the amenities they needed and
was in the right location, only blocks from the studio.

"Well, besides too much hair on my head, I guess OK. I'm a little nervous,
I mean, I haven't done this stuff for a couple of years, so I'm really out
of practice," he said, fidgeting while he sat on the edge of the king size
bed that practically took up the whole room.

"Is that all?" Marty asked, suspecting there was more. He was opening their
shared suitcase but abandoned that task for the moment to sit next to
Peter.

"Well, I'm not sure, maybe..."

"Yes?" he pressed.

"Um...yea...I guess the biggest thing might be that I'm a big letdown for
them." He paused for a moment, then continued while holding onto the edge
of the bed.

"Even though they have a few new shots, they could still be disappointed
when they see me in the flesh."  He got up and began to pace around the
room, his hands folded in front of himself.

"But still, they should really know by now what they are getting, shouldn't
they?" Marty asked. He was sitting on the bed, watching Peter think as he
walked the room.

"I guess so...but a lot of it has to do with how you fit in the different
niches, and what they're looking for at any specific time. This agent was
always kind of gung-ho on me, but he was never actually an agent back then,
he was sort of a facilitator of shoots and all that. I just saw him around
a lot and he knew my agent. He wasn't the one who made the crack about my
hearing aid, but that was the end of my career so I never heard from him
again until he contacted me."

"But maybe now that he's finally got me, I won't be worth it. Or maybe he
still likes me and all, but the rest of the crowd says `Nope. Not the right
guy."

"Well," Marty replied as he reached up and pulled Peter down onto the bed
next to him. "First of all, if any of that is even remotely true, it's
their loss. Secondly, we're in New York and we can see some sights and
enjoy ourselves whatever happens. And lastly, regardless of how it all
goes, we're here together in this this fancy designer hotel in a cool part
of New York, so we should take advantage of it."  He wasn't so sure he was
convincing Peter, but it was clear to him over the past few days that Peter
had mounting anxiety about the whole trip.

"Agreed," he replied, a slight smile appearing on his face.  "I guess I'm
just trying to lower my expectations so that I'm not too disappointed.  And
be realistic.  This stuff just happens, so I need to be prepared for
however they react, good or bad."

Marty looked at Peter as he sat next to him. Of the two of them, Peter was
always the one with the outsized enthusiasm, and he himself was more
measured and calm. But for all his spirit and passion for things, he was
(sometimes) able to control it when there was a lot at stake.

`Now if he could just apply this discipline to taking care of himself and
not pushing everything so hard, that would work out great.' Marty thought
to himself and smiled.

"What are you smiling about?" Peter asked, a slight grin coming to his own
face.

Leaning over and pushing Peter back onto the bed he looked down at him, his
hands on either side of Peter's head.  He didn't say anything, just looked
at him and put his hand on his face, tracing the edges of his lips, his
eyes, even his ears.

"Well," Marty said after a few moments, "I think you might need to play a
little, get some tension out. But just a little! You've got a big day ahead
of you tomorrow and need a good night's rest. And it's already almost
9:00."

"Hmm...I was hoping you'd say that," with a slight giggle he reached up and
began to stroke Marty's hair, letting the strands flow between his fingers.
"Well, not the `little' part, but I'm OK with the rest," he said with a
slight giggle.

But the giggle flew quickly away as Peter then drew a deep breath.  "By the
way, are you sure you're going to be OK tomorrow, babe? I mean, they said
that you could only spend part of the morning at the shoot, then they want
you to scram. Do you feel like I did a bate and switch on you?"

Marty looked down and shook his head in the negative. "Of course not. You
told me before we left, as soon as you found out all the details, so I knew
what I was getting into. No worries. It's great that Wei lives here and can
show me around and all. Then next weekend I'll show you what he showed me!"

"We'll I hope I can wait until then," Peter replied as he bit his lip. "By
the way, I think that you'll like my parent's college friend, Clare. Dad
said she's really successful and is looking forward to taking us to
someplace pretty fancy.  Sounds fun, huh?"

"That'll be great, I can't wait! But in the meantime don't worry about me.
I'll be fine. Just do your job and it will all work out."

Peter exhaled. "I know you'll be OK, but I really wish I could spend more
time with you. I..." he just started his next sentence when his lips were
pressed under Marty's finger.

"No worries. At least we're here now," he said as he slowly lowered his
lips onto Peter's.



						***

Even though it was 7:00 in the morning when they stepped off the elevator
on the fourth floor, the old warehouse building on the west side of
Manhattan was already pulsing with activity.  Harried technicians whooshed
by them on their way to the various sets that occupied the entire floor of
the building, while the near-empty plates of breakfast rolls on the
reception area table confirmed the presence of the long list of people who
had signed in ahead of them back down at the ground floor lobby.

"You OK?" Marty asked, giving him a gentle poke to the ribs.

Peter nodded his head. "Yup, no going back now," he responded with a half
smile.  "Let's figure out where we need to go here."

Just as they both started to scan the area, Marty noticed a middle-aged guy
approaching them from Peter's right.

"Peter?" the stranger asked.

He didn't quite hear him until Marty nodded in the guy's direction.

When Peter turned around, Marty could see the guys eyes seem to enlarge.
He definitely looked surprised.

"Rick, hey, how are you doing?" Peter asked as he reached out his hand.

The agent who was behind this temporary resurrection of Peter's modeling
career stared at him and for the briefest moment appeared tongue-tied.

"Wow, Peter, you look...um... better than the picture. Great to see you!"
he said as he finally reached out and shook his hand. "And this must be
Marty?"

Marty was a bit surprised to see the first words of greeting out of
someone's mouth be so much about looks, but then again, this is what this
world is all about. Maybe if it was dentists, they'd say `what good teeth
you have,' he thought to himself as he reached over and shook Rick's hand.

"I'd like to catch up with you both on your trip and how the hotel is
turning out, but we've got a big day ahead of us, at least Peter does, so
let's head over to the set," he said as he gestured for the guys to follow
him.  "They're already waiting."

The guys followed him through a maze of hallways, past bathrooms, some
meeting rooms and kitchenette areas until they finally came to a large open
loft are with a couple of different set areas, each with a different
character and furnishings but all with lots of people and activity.

They approached what Marty assumed was their particular area, and Rick
gathered certain of the people around them and began to make introductions.

"Hey everyone, I want you to meet the first model. This is Peter Kovar, and
you'll be working with him most of the day."

Even though Rick also introduced Marty to everyone, most of them didn't
seem to pay too much attention to him. Peter had told him it would be like
this – his Dad had ingrained in him that, in this particular world, if
you weren't useful you didn't exist. It was one of the things that repelled
him about it. And nothing seemed to have changed.

The only person for whom he still existed, of course, was Peter, who looked
at him out of the corner of his eye every few moments. He even interrupted
a conversation to come over to check up on him.

Marty smiled back. `No worries, it's just as you said it would be. Go do
your job and we can talk later," he said as he playfully grabbed Peter's
shoulders and turned him around.

Peter turned and looked at him again. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine, babe. Thanks for asking," he said as he gently pushed Peter
back into the throng of people. "Like I said last night, no worries!"  He
knew that the day was stressful enough on his boy and did everything he
could to make sure he didn't add to the burden.

"So let's get started," the director boomed over the crowd of people.
"Peter, first, we need to cut the shaggy dog look you've got. I'm glad you
kept it growing, that will let our styling guy have some freedom when he
does your cut.  You can follow Cathy here to the styling studio.  Then,
she'll take you to wardrobe. You'll have a locker there to put your
backpack and other stuff in.  So I'll probably see you back in 45 minutes
or so.  She's an old pro, so you're in good hands."

"You don't need to emphasize the `old' part," she snapped, getting laughter
around the set.

They had told Peter that it would be mostly advertising shots for winter
clothing for high range retailers, along with some athletic and gym wear,
and it was confirmed as Marty saw the racks of clothing stored next to the
set.  Even though it was early summer, this was the traditional time to get
ready for the big selling season at Christmas.

"I hope you've got some shoes that fit this time, Rick. I remember a couple
times I'd have to be squeezed into them."

He laughed, then replied, "Well you know how it goes. A lot of this stuff
isn't even in production yet, so we get what we get.  If I remember right,
your feet are on the small side, so that should help. I'll just wish you
luck," he said smiling as Peter went off to get his makeover.

"I'll see you soon," Peter said to Marty as came up and gently tugged his
shirt.  "you're SURE that you're going to be OK?"

"Yup! Of course! I'll just wait around here for you. I can't wait to see
how this all goes. It's like a getting an army ready to go on the
march. Kind of cool."

"That's what I thought, too when I first started this stuff. After about 12
hours, though, I was ready for the battle to end."

"Well good luck, Pete." Marty said as he ran his hand for a final time
through Peter's mounded head of dark hair. "I guess that this stuff is
their first battle."

Marty noticed that Cathy, who was probably in her mid-thirties, wasn't shy
about staring at Peter, and smiling. She raised her finger to him and,
coiling it back, purred, "Right this way, Mr. Kovar."

After Peter was off to get worked on, Rick approached him as he stood at
the edge of the set.  "Hey, while your friend is getting prepped, you can
do whatever you want.  Feel free to wander around some of the other studios
in this area, at least the ones that aren't roped off.  As long as we both
stay out of the screened background areas, either blue or white, we'll be
fine.

"OK, no worries. I just wanted to see how this all went for Peter, so I'll
just be a fly on the wall, then I'll leave about mid-morning or so, after
they go through a couple of shots."

Marty spent the next few minutes floating around amongst the various
studios, some of which were active with shoots and others abandoned or
stuffed with boxes or the detritus of other sets.  He found it to be a
curious kind of make-believe world, these fantasy re-creations of people's
dreams done as a way to sell things.

The only interruption was a text from Mike, asking how they were doing and
passing on the fact of no news from Bik. He texted back a `thank you,' and
gave him a brief status on Peter's workday before he continued on his tour.

Neglecting all the good-looking models that would have piqued the
interested of most gay guys, Marty found himself more interested in
watching the carpenters at work on the sets. Now that he had some
acquaintance with the tools of the trade it was educational to see how the
experts actually used them. And since he wasn't part of the `act', it was
easy for him to be anonymous and poke his head into these kinds of
back-of-the-house places. They just didn't seem to notice him.

He strolled back on the set 45 minutes later, just in time to see Peter
came back from the stylist's salon. He seemed to be surrounded by a small
entourage of people, so it took a second for Marty to get a clear view.

"Wow!" he thought to himself. "That's incredible."