Date: Mon, 14 Jun 2010 08:53:48 +1200
From: Shawn Kale <shawnkale@live.com>
Subject: Ground Control ~ Part 1

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DISCLAIMER: Predictably, this story at some point will contain graphic
literary descriptions of sexual acts between consenting persons. Some
content may not be suitable for minors. This is a work of fiction,
similarity of characters to  real people is purely accidental. The author
'Shawn Kale' retains the title to the work and grants 'Nifty Archive'  "a
non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable
license to display the work" Comments and suggestions can be directed to
the author via email at: shawnkale@live.com All 'true' brands included in
this story are the trademark and property of their respective owners I do
not assert ownership of such and seek no commercial gain from their
use. All lyrics are the creation of the artist David Bowie unless cited as
original in the context of the story. Again... I do not assert any
ownership or commercial usage of any material not my own.
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GROUND CONTROL

By Shawn Kale

PART 1 'Oh! You Pretty Things!'


"Come on boys, girls and somewhere in betweens! Make some noise or Im gonna
get all self conscious and go all quiet... You don't want that do you?
Well... do you?"

I put on the puppy dog eyes and hid behind the luxuriant purple curtain,
peeking out every now and then to see the sea of people packing the
repertory society's small theatre. They laughed and cheered me on and their
clamor soon fell into a simultaneous chant

"Major Tom! Major Tom! Major Tom! Major Tom!"

I grabbed a bottle of water from the stage and slowly, cautiously eased my
way from out behind the drapery, sipping the much needed water and pushing
the sweat soaked hair back off my face. I took a moment to calm down and
survey tonight's crowd, a few die hard fans at the front of the
stage... mostly girls, some were almost panting as hard as me, one of my
mottos 'you know it's good if the fans are as sweaty as you' must be good
then. I saw two hundred pairs of adoring eyes, anxiously watching me pace
backwards and forwards across the platform, waiting for the next song. They
saw a five foot eight inch seventeen year old with shocking white hair,
mismatched green and ice blue eyes, painted black nails and wearing
impossibly tight jeans and a silver sequined mariachi jacket on my tidy
frame.

"Wooo! That's much better ladies and gentle-things... Look at you tonight,
all dressed up and nowhere to go, oh you pretty things! And on that note,
Johnny if you would be a love and bring down the lights?"

The young man behind the sound desk pressed a button on his board and
brought an eerie darkness down throughout the theatre, in the twilight I
stealthily moved over to sit behind the baby grand piano which had been
quickly rolled on. I clicked my fingers and a single green spotlight came
down, playing with the lingering smoke which swirled around my feet. I
reached up to slip the microphone into it's lowered stand and cracked my
fingers before launching into the delicious opening riff. A second
spotlight flipped on to illuminate my bassist as he joined the song, a
third and then a fourth on the drummer and lead guitar. There was a moments
silence before we began to belt out the substantive

"Wake up you sleepy head! put on some clothes, shake up your bed..."

They loved it, my hands danced in a frenzy across the keys and I gave the
vocals all the attention such an amazing song deserved, the curtains closed
for intermission and the crowd was on its feet. I tipped the remaining
water over my head and toweled myself down.

"Nice one Tommy!"

Jake, my drummer patted me on the back and moved off for a mid-show drink
with the rest of the band. I discarded my towel into a hamper offstage and
exited through a service door into the cold night, picking up my fur
collared jacket on the way.

      It was snowing and I was glad to have the jacket, I hunkered down
inside its warm fur and hurried to where I'd parked my car before rehearsal
earlier. I opened the trunk and felt around in the darkness for the black
hard shelled case which held my saxophone, I pulled it out, closed the
trunk and pushed the 'lock' button on my key. I was making my way back to
the stage door when I heard a crash and a grunt from the other side of the
theatre, I cautiously rounded the corner and saw an upturned rubbish bin,
its contents spread across the snow, what appeared to be a human body
mingled with the detritus. I was a little startled when the mass began to
move and once again it groaned, a human filled black duffle coat rose from
the ground, shook off the light dusting of snow and returned the rubbish
bin to it's upright position then turned to look at the mess I assumed it
was responsible for.

"Hey, are you alright man?"

I startled him and he looked around to see where the salutation had come
from, I stepped into the light from the high side windows and smiled at
him, closer up I was taken aback by what was hidden beneath the layers of
winter clothing. A young guy of about my age, around my height and with a
striking face... beautiful dark eyes graced a spotless complexion, a few
flashes of jet black hair poked out from beneath a woolen cap and perfectly
shaped lips shivered in the cold

"Oh shit... you're Major Tom"

I had performed under that stage name since forming my David Bowie tribute
band, the 'Mellow Thighed Chicks' last year, my name was actually Tom so it
fit perfectly with the recurring protagonist in two of my hero's better
songs.

"Haha yeah, I'm pretty surprised you recognise me actually"

I offered my hand and another smile, he was cute. He stepped forwards to
shake it and almost slipped on a the dirty snow in the process

"Wow, I really really like your music... Oh, I'm Sam by the way, this is
embarrassing... did you see me fall?"

"Nice to meet you Sam and thank you, but I can't take all the credit... how
did you fall?"

"Ummm... well I was watching the show through the window, standing on the
bin and I was trying to get down during the break and I slipped and fell"

"Why were you on the bin? Couldn't you get in the front door?"

I chuckled and rested my case on the ground, reaching out to offer Sam a
tissue for his constantly sniffing nose, he accepted it and put it to use,
looking away sheepishly and then down to his feet

"I left my wallet at home so I couldn't get a ticket, if I walked home
again the concert would be over by the time I got back and my
Dad... wouldn't... nevermind"

I watched him shuffle nervously on the spot, he was quite beautiful and I
hated to see any beautiful boy look so uncomfortable... or so distressed.

"Pick up my case... hurry now lad! the concert's gotta start again soon"

He was puzzled, I repeated myself, this time motioning to the case on the
ground. He picked it up by the handle and looked at me confused.

"Congratulations, you're now my roadie... now carry that for me and you can
watch the rest from the wings ok? not so many hazards there"

He caught my drift and smiled, falling in to step behind me as I led him
around the building to the stage door.

"Is this your sax Major Tom?"

"Affirmative Private Sam however, please call her by her proper name"

"Oh... Sorry, I didn't know. What is 'her' proper name?"

"She is called Jean... Jean Genie"

He chuckled, I was glad he got it, most people of our age wouldn't have. I
asked him to pull her out and put her together, he did this with surprising
skill.

"Done this before?"

He looked up to see me stripping off my sweaty shirt and replacing it with
a clean, dry one. Sam blushed and looked back down at Jean

"Umm... yeah I actually play a little, I'm nowhere near as good as you
though and I can't really afford my own so I have to use the one at school"

I replaced my jacket and stripped my jeans off, they too were soaked in
sweat along with my underwear which I removed next. Sam must have sensed
what I was doing and kept his head bowed, maybe he was embarrassed that I
was simply stripping naked and dressing on stage, the curtains being closed
I knew the only people who were likely to see me were people who had all
seen me in worse situations before.

"I see, well maybe we can have a jam sometime. You could borrow my old sax
if you like"

Having musical parents meant that there was an almost endless pile of
instruments cluttering up the basement of our home, if nobody used them
they tended to just end up stuffed into a crawl-space or a storage closet

"Really? you don't have to be nice to me you know"

"What the hell do you mean by that? Why would I have any reason to be
anything BUT nice to you?"

"You must get tired of putting up with fans and all that... Honestly don't
feel like you owe me anything"

"Are you OK? I don't have many fans that would stand on an upturned bin to
hear me, and besides... I like you"

Alex, the lead guitar came over to us, I introduced him to Sam and they
shook hands

"Okay Tommy, let's get this show on the road huh, I want to be home in time
for me stories"

Tommy was mocking his mother, she was a devout soap opera follower and
liked to refer to the programs as her 'stories' we always had him up about
it, 'if you can't beat em... join em' he said. Alex's stories likely meant
the top 40 countdown replayed at 9.30. It was getting close to 8 so we had
about an hour to finish our show. I showed Sam where he could stand and
watched as he carefully placed Jean on her stand next to my mic.

"Alright alright, put down your glasses and gather around children. we're
back and we're wearing fresh underwear!"

The rest of the show seemed to fly by, I kept glancing back to where Sam
was standing, totally engrossed in the music, he'd taken off a layer or so
of clothing and he looked even more appealing like this, slim cut shirt and
vintage cardigan with a pencil tie... Just how I would dress if we weren't
on stage. We finished as usual with a slow number that the crowd could sing
along to 'Life on Mars' was an audience favorite and the karaoke from the
front row only added to the feeling.

"Thank you! you've been an amazing crowd... drive safe and see you next
time!"

The curtain closed again and we snapped into pack up mode, Alex was
responsible for all the stands and equipment that the band owned, his
brother Michael was always on hand to help break down the kit and acted
like the chief roadie, all at thirteen and with a gang of high voiced mates
to assist.

"Ok Alex, you good to take care of the rest? I'll head off if you don't
mind, I'm bloody starving"

"Alright mate, awesome show huh? I'll pop around tomorrow and we can do the
balance ok?"

"For sure, I'll be home until about midday so just buzz yourself in"

I clicked closed the case which held my stage clothes having changed into
civvies, enlisting one of Michael's crew to lug my instruments out to the
car I turned to leave

"Oh... before I forget, your mate left while you were in the bathroom, he
wanted to say thanks for the show and he'd try to make it to our next gig"

I had almost forgotten about Sam in the after-show trance, I cursed myself
for not offering to take him out for coffee on the way home, and I hadn't
organised a jam session with him... damnation. I thanked 'Corey' for
helping me with my cases and flipped on the heat as soon as the car was
started, I pulled onto the road and made my way into town in search of
takeaways... the less healthy the better.

I almost missed him, my focus was on finding the glove which had slipped
out of my grasp and worked its way under my seat. I was driving slowly
while feeling blindly and at an awkward angle, I caught sight of a movement
along the footpath as I approached the belt of suburban homes which lay
between the city and the industrial area where our concert had been. I made
a double take before stopping at the side of the road slightly ahead of the
human filled duffle coat bundle, head down, Sam was slowly making his way
home. I rolled down the window and waited for him to come closer, it was
freezing outside.

"Hey... mister! can you give me directions to the nearest McDonalds?"

I put on a faux American accent and he didn't recognise me, that didn't
stop him coming over to the car and leaning down to help

"Uh sure, it's ju..."

"Hop in you muppet!"

I unlocked the door and rolled the window up as he opened it and bundled
himself into the passenger's seat. I bumped the heat up and fished out the
elusive glove before telling him to take his hood down

"What are you doing out in this? you'll catch your death! It's criminal
nobody else has stopped to offer you a lift!"

"Umm... It's OK honestly. My Dad refuses to be a taxi, and I couldn't take
a bus because I had no wallet"

I brushed some fresh snow off his rosy cheeks with my gloved hand, for some
reason I felt compelled to just hug this boy. He seemed constantly unsure
of himself and determined not to be a burden to anyone, however trivial the
issue. I patted him on the shoulder

"Well I would have offered you a ride if you'd stuck around"

"I don't want to put anyone out, honestly I walk home all the time in worse
weather than this"

"Well I refuse to see you freeze, if that makes this a kidnapping then so
be it"

I laughed at the suggestion and managed to coax a smile from him, I swear
it warmed me up a little

"So, care to join me for some junk food? my treat"

"That would be great, I'm starving... I'll pay you back though"

"I wouldn't hear of it! consider this your roadie's salary"

Another angelic smile and a little chuckle this time, with any luck I'd get
him initiating a conversation and rolling with laughter at even the driest
of my jokes. I looked at his beautiful face again before pulling back into
the traffic and making for the nearest drive-through. This was going to be
interesting... I could see it already.


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As usual, thank you for reading. Part two is in the works already and
hopefully brings you more of what you want and need :)

All feedback can be directed to: shawnkale@live.com
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