Date: Mon, 15 Jan 2007 14:04:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Stephen Aramburu <aramflag@yahoo.com>
Subject: Wish Upon A Star 4

	Alright, guys.  I haven't been getting a lotta emails lately.  I
need your support and your emails because they're the reason why I write.
This story is purely fictional...based upon my imagination.  It does
involve some sexual elements, though it is mainly about love and how it
could come in all forms.  Please send, all comments, good or bad to me,
steve, at aramflag@yahoo.com


      Derek's knees almost died when his eyes saw the mansion, a pure
marble castle which he thought only existed in his dreams.  A butler stood
at the doorway and greeted Derek as he climbed out of the white limo.  The
butler was a young man in his early twenties whom Mrs. Carter had
personally hired.  The butler had a girlfriend somewhere in New York, but
his eyes were nearly blown out of their sockets when they saw Derek.  The
butler had never seen anybody...anything as radiant or as flawlessly
beautiful as Derek.  The sunlight seemed to cling onto Derek's body and
follow him wherever he went.  Derek was the physical manifestation of the
Greek god, Apollo, thought the young man, forever young and unimaginably
beautiful.  The butler wasn't sure what had caused his stomach to tie
itself into knots as soon as he was in the enchanting 12-year-old's
presence.  Was it envy?  Admiration?  Fascination?  Curiosity?  Or worse
yet...was he attracted...no way.  He wasn't gay.  He had a girlfriend in
New York...
      "Hey, I'm Derek," Derek mumbled shyly, shaking the butler out of his
trance.  "Stan, the limo guy, said you'd show me around."
      "Oh...please...come in.  The Carters have been expecting you."
Derek, at this point, was as giddy as a school girl who'd just lost her
virginity.
      "This is awesome!" Derek thought to himself.  "I'll be working for
and living with the richest family in Nebraska!  This mansion's amazing!  I
love it!"
      Derek's composed countenance betrayed little of what he was actually
feeling, however, as he was being led by the butler through an endless maze
of identical hallways.  Each hallway was like something straight out of the
Palace of Versailles.  The limestone floors were smooth and shiny and
looked like a vanilla/chocolate milkshake frozen in time, milky white with
random swirls of black which blended together to create a fascinating
pattern.  The walls were carpeted with a soft, green material and were
lined with expensively colorful portraits of old men and middle-aged women
in suits and dress skirts and pure white doors between each portrait.
Three or four chandeliers dangled down the ceilings as a door within one
hallway led to another identical hallway within which a door was opened and
led to another...
      At first, Derek was fascinated by the fanciness and the unnecessary
decorations of each hallway.  But as he was led by the butler through what
felt like several thousand monotonously similar chambers, he began to yawn
and show signs of boredom and fatigue.
      "Hold on," said the butler.  "We're almost there."
      When they reached the last of the identical hallways, Derek saw two
ivory double doors standing in the end of the hallway...something that the
other hallways didn't have.
      The butler stood at the entrance of the double doors and pressed the
doorbell, which protruded from the wall to the right of doorway.
      "Enter," said a voice from within the doors.
      "You may go in, now," said the butler.
      Derek tentatively pushed the doors open and stepped in, while the
butler took one last glance at Derek, before walking through to yet another
hallway.
      Stepping through the ivory doorway was like walking into another
dimension.  On the other side of the door was a long, narrow room, similar
in structure to the interior of a subway train.  It was so empty that one
could almost hear the air flow within the walls.  At the distant corner of
the room stood a wooden desk.  There, at the desk, sat Mr. and Mrs. Carter,
the genius couple behind the multi-million dollar industry that dominated
Nebraska.  Neither the wife nor the husband were particularly old.  They
were still in their late thirties.  But both had sleepless eyes, graying
hair, and sagging chins from the endless hours they spend per day of
maintaining and managing their huge business.  The two of them were looking
forward to their spring break vacation.  All they had to do was to confirm
that somebody would look over their house while they were gone and they
were out of here.
      When Mr. Carter saw Derek, he looked at his wife questioningly.
      "This is who you hired?" he whispered.  "Some adolescent kid from the
streets?"
      "He said he'd do it for $8.00 an hour," Mrs. Carter countered.
"That's only one- fifth of what that Cuban refugee you wanted to hire was
charging."
      "That's not the point," exclaimed Mr. Carter.  "Can't you see?  This
kid's a freeloader!  If we hire him, he's going to live in the mansion and
gets paid for it?  Who wouldn't want that?"
      "Isn't that true for everybody who 'works' for us?  Isn't that true
for every one of the twenty maids and butlers that you've hired?" said
Mrs. Carter.  "Why do you have to hire so many people?  Why do you have to
keep wasting our money like this?"
      "Look...I don't trust this kid..."
      "He is twelve years old!" said Mrs. Carter.  "How much trouble could
he cause?"
      "But..."
      "We're hiring him!  That's final!" yelled Mrs. Carter. "You wanted a
housekeeper...I got you a housekeeper.  Let's just hire him, go on our
vacation, and get on with our lives!"
      "Um...hello," Derek said tentatively, interrupting the couple's
conversation.
      "Oh...hi," said Mr. Carter, trying to look composed and not overly
anxious to leave.  "What's your name, boy?"
      "Derek."
      "How old are you?"
      "Twelve."  Mr. Carter studied him incredulously.
      "Why do you want this job?" said Mrs. Carter in a sweet, yet fake
voice.
      Derek looked down onto the ground.
      "I want to earn money to take care of my dying mother," was Derek's
response.  These words that flowed out of Derek's mouth ushered a wave of
sympathy and understanding from Mrs. Carter, for she, too, once lived a
paycheck-to-paycheck life, supporting her dying sister.  She saw Derek and
wanted, very badly, to go over to him and give him a nice, comforting hug.
      "That's good, Derek," Mrs. Carter heard her husband retort flatly and
without much emotion.  "Tell me.  Do you have any experience in
housekeeping?"
      Mrs. Carter, enraged at her husband's heartlessness, punched him in
the arm.
      "Ow..." he scowled.  "What was that for?"
      "You're such a bitch," she whispered back.  Then, she turned to
Derek.
      "You got the job," she announced.
      "But..."
      "Do you want to get out of here or not?" scowled Mrs. Carter.  "We're
already two hours late because you had to interview the new housekeeper?"
      "Fine, fine. Alright!  We can leave."
      The truth was, Mrs. Carter had reasons, other than her impending
vacation, behind her quick decision to hire Derek.  She felt sorry for
Derek.  She could tell that the boy didn't go to school and that he had to
live a paycheck-to-paycheck life.  She knew that Derek wasn't a freeloader.
If he had been, he would've demanded the whole $40.00 originally offered
for the job.  She hoped, down in her heart, that Derek would save his dying
mother in time.  But she didn't want to tell her husband that.  Her husband
would've laughed at her.
      "The butler shall take you to your room," were Mr. Carter's last
words to Derek, before the two of them left, through the back door, to a
getaway in the Bahamas.

************************************************************************
************************************************************************
	Joe looked out his window into the star-lit sky.  There were no
shooting stars tonight.  Just a bunch of shiny, blinking masses and milky
streams within the night sky.
	"Wish upon a star," Joe thought to himself, mocking his own
stupidity.  "I'm really getting desperate."
	Once again, Joe was distracted.  In front of him was a shit-load of
work...reports and assignments of economics, business, and all other
useless shit...that he had to complete by the time his parents came back
from their vacation.  And Joe, instead of working valiantly to get it done,
was staring out the window into the night.  What was he looking for?  Hope?
Salvation?  Friends?
	"I gotta concentrate," Joe thought to himself.  "This isn't even
that much work.  I should've finished it a long time ago."
	If only wishes upon stars did come true.  If only an angel did
descend from the heavens and liberate Joe from this hell.
	"C'mon!  Concentrate!" Joe urged himself.  "Get this done so that
you could enjoy your spring break, already!"
	Why was life so unfair?  Why did Joe have to be born to such a
wealthy, stuck-up, materialistic family?  Joe never wanted to be a
businessman.  He knew that he could never become one without killing
himself after the first year.  What Joe wanted, more than anything, was to
be an artist.
	He could picture it now.  Joe Carter...an art prodigy, famous
around the world for his unique and stunningly life-like depictions of
unrealistic or non-existent beings or events.  His paintings and
sketches...displayed and admired by people of all ages in museums and
exhibits around the world.  He would put on live shows three or four times
a week, putting his talents and skills on full display by sketching a
fresh, new work of art in front of an amazed live audience.  These shows
would take place in Venice, Rome, Shanghai, Cairo, Dubai, Tokyo, New
York...all of the world's greatest cities would host his exhibitions.  Joe
Carter...world famous artist...international celebrity...an impossible
fantasy.
	"Shit...I can't concentrate!" Joe thought to himself, slamming his
fists against his wooden desk.  "Maybe I'll do the work later."  With that,
Joe rose from his chair, abandoning his homework, and decided, instead, to
get some fresh, new clothes from his closet to take a shower.  Perhaps the
relaxing flow of the hot, steamy shower will wash away his stupid fantasies
and help him to concentrate on the here and now of reality.

************************************************************************
************************************************************************
      Derek stepped into the shower, becoming more and more amazed at the
torrents and torrents of unexpected luxuries that continue to pour
themselves upon him.  It was hard for Derek to imagine that weeks ago...no
days ago, he was still bathing in a moldy, wooden tub situated beneath a
metal faucet, behind the cheap, run-down bar that he used to work for...a
far cry from the elaborately tiled floors that were beneath his feet and
the tall, glass cubicle, with its copper-framed door, that enclosed his
naked body.  And his room!  Derek's room was amazing!  Big and spacious,
with a soft, cloud-like bed and a drawer full of clothes!  Expensive
clothes that Derek sees on regular kids his age everywhere he
goes...clothes that he would've given anything to have just weeks ago.
	The hot water was steaming up the glass panels of the
cubicle...something Derek had never seen before.  The bathroom he was in
was really fancy with a marble sink and the most gorgeous faucet he'd ever
seen before.  Most of all, the bathroom had THREE doors!  Three!
(Well...four, actually.  Derek didn't notice the fourth one...the one in
the very corner that connected to Joe's room.)
	"This is amazing!" Derek exclaimed to himself, in a sing-songy
voice.  "I hadn't seen anything this awesome since...since...since I was at
that doctor's..."
	The doctor!  The doctor!
	Horrific memories suppressed deep within Derek's mind surfaced
again and before long, he was reliving, through his mind's eye, that
horrific night...that shameful night that he was deflowered, exactly the
way it'd happened.  Everything around him blanked out and erased itself
away from existence...everything, including the fancy bathroom and the
shower.  In its place stood a dark, room, painted white on all four sides.
There is a small bed with flowery, oriental bedsheets and a smooth, wooden
desk in the corner, filled with barrel loads of medical papers.  In the
bed, under the sheets, was the doctor...excited, anxious, impatient.
	"Come in!" he said, as Derek stepped into the room.  Derek wasn't
sure what to do.  He wanted to run.  He wanted to hide.  He wanted to bolt
out and forget about this whole incident.  But he couldn't.  His mother's
life was at stake.  This doctor already agreed to treat her for free...all
he needed was one night...just one night, in bed, with the doctor.  And he
wasn't even that bad-looking.  The doctor was relatively young, perhaps
late twenties or early thirties, and was handsome, but not stunning.  Still
a hell of a lot better than some of the other doctors in town, though.  And
besides...it was sex.  Derek might actually enjoy this...
	"Come on!" said the doctor, agitated by Derek's reluctance.  "Your
mom's dying and you're just standing there?"
	Hesitantly, Derek climbed into the bed.
	"Good boy..."the doctor smiled.  With that said, the doctor started
filling Derek's face with sloppy, lustful kisses and began ripping Derek's
clothes off.  He began groping Derek...squeezing his nipples...biting his
young, soft flesh.  Derek screamed in pain.  And in a display of sheer
animosity, the doctor jammed something hard and painful straight up Derek's
virgin hole.  Derek began crying and begging the doctor to stop.  But the
doctor's eyes were blinded by lust as he fucked Derek harder...and
harder...and harder.  The pain...the pain was insufferable.  Derek felt
like his body was being ripped right in half, straight down the middle.  He
was bleeding and screaming, begging God to kill him and take away his pain.
	Finally, after what felt like an eternity in hell, the doctor
stopped suddenly and then he said...

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

 	Joe held his clean clothes and dragged his feet into the bathroom.
When he walked in, steam flowed into his eyes and temporarily blinded him.
It was hot...it was really hot.  Joe began sweating, as he tried to
navigate his way through the foggy bathroom...his foggy bathroom that some
unwelcome visitor was using.  It actually took a while for Joe to hear the
sound of running water...but once he did, there wasn't a doubt in his mind
that somebody was using his shower.
	"Who the fuck is in my bathroom?" Joe spouted out loud, extremely
irritated.  "I wanna shower!"
	Just then, the thick, white steam seemed to disappear into the
air...or maybe it was Joe whose eyes had adjusted to the steamy
surroundings.  But it didn't matter.  Joe turned his head and looked
straight into the shower stall...the one and only glass shower stall within
the spacious bathroom.  Steamy water vapor clung onto the copper-framed
glass windows of the stall, decorated by scattered water droplets that
flowed, like rivers, down the misty windows.  Joe peered through the steam
to see who was inside.
	When his eyes came into contact with the naked form within the
shower, Joe's heart sank into his feet.  His clean clothes that he held
fell out of his forgetful grip, onto the floor.  Joe's legs almost died, as
his stomach tied itself into knots.  What he saw in the shower stall was
the most beautiful image he'd ever seen...and all the frustration...all the
irritation he'd felt just seconds ago died.
	In the shower was a boy...about five feet tall with shiny blonde
hair and dazzling green eyes...standing sorrowfully as steamy water poured
down onto his body.  The boy was blonde, smooth, and young with a
mesmerizing tan that ran down his body and was cut off at the waist, but
continued down his legs.  His body was perfectly proportion.  Joe couldn't
take his eyes off of the boy's beautiful bubble butt...so round and smooth.
Joe gasped in disbelief at the image he was witnessing...it looked exactly
like...like....
	"Angel..." he gasped.  "My angel..."  Joe approached Derek...
************************************************************************
************************************************************************
      Derek's mind snapped itself back into reality, as he began to
remember where he was and what he was doing.  Suddenly, he saw a boy...a
tall boy approach him in the shower.  The boy was about 5"8 with long,
brown hair and an athletic frame.  Derek was strangely drawn to the boy.
But the boy was fully clothed, while he himself, was naked.  Desperately,
Derek searched for something to cover himself up with...a towel...a
cloth...any article or clothing...too late.  The boy was already by the
shower door.  Moreover, he opened the door and Derek felt the chilly air
flow into the hot stall.
	"What the hell are you doing?" Derek cried, embarrassed.
	"Oh...what..."was all that Joe could mumble, as he snapped out of
his trance.
	"What are you doing?" Derek repeated, placing his hands over his
penis.
	"Oh...Oh..."
	"Shit..."Joe thought to himself, having realized that he'd
unconsciously walked in on somebody in the shower.  "God...I look like an
idiot...think...think"
	"You're in my bathroom," Joe said lamely.  "I...I was just about to
take a shower."
	"Your bathroom?" said Derek shyly.  "Oh...sorry about that...I'll
just leave right now."  Derek began to step out of the stall.
	"Oh...no!" said Joe.  "You could stay if you want."
	"Huh?" Derek said with a confused look on his face.
	"Shit...now the kid thinks you're a pervert!  He thinks you wanna
check him out." Joe thought to himself.  "Think...think..."
	"Oh...I meant you could finish your shower, if you want," Joe
stuttered.  "I can wait.  Really..."
	"Oh...it's okay," said Derek, as he walked toward the door in the
farther right corner of the bathroom, picking up his dirty clothes and
wrapping a towel around his hips.
	"My name's Joe, by the way," said Joe as Derek walked away.  The
younger boy turned around.
	"My name's Derek."  For a moment, the two boys stood there, staring
at each other, neither knowing what to say.  Derek looked at Joe in awe.
Joe had pouty blue eyes, thin, red lips, and a bronze-colored face.  His
arms were thick and muscular and his legs were to die for.  Derek began
feeling stirrings...primal stirrings within his body.  He was attracted to
Joe.  Joe was hot.  But Derek couldn't let Joe know that.  He just
couldn't.
	"So...how'd you end up here?" Joe asked.
	"I'm the new housekeeper...for the Carters," Derek replied.
	"Whoa...shit!  They hired you?"
	"Yep..."
	"Oh no...I didn't mean anything by that," Joe said quickly, sensing
that he'd offended Derek.  "I'm just saying...you're really young,
especially for a housekeeper.  How old are you?"
	"I'm twelve," Derek answered.  "I'll be thirteen in three months."
	"Wow...I'm sixteen," said Joe.  "You're the first person my parents
have ever hired who's younger than me.  You probably won't have to do that
much work, though.  We have, like, fifty housekeepers and twenty-something
maids and butlers."
	"Wait...your parents?"
	"Yeah," said Joe.  "The business tycoons, the Carters, are my mom
and dad."
	"Your life must be awesome!" said Derek, beaming.
	"Well...no"
	Suddenly, a loud thud was heard from Joe's room...a loud,
terrifying thud that shook the walls.
	"Oh shit!" Joe muttered.  "He's here."
	"Who?"
	"Derek...you gotta run...now!"
	"But..."
	"Derek...go!"
	Derek ran toward the door.
	"Aren't you going to come with me, Joe?"
	"I can't!" Joe replied.  "If I do, he'll get suspicious!"  Derek
looked back and nodded, stepping through the door, into his room.  From
inside his room, he heard a big, fat, Asian voice cry, "There you are!"
that sent shivers down his spine.
************************************************************************
************************************************************************

	Keisuke had been more brutal than ever.  Derek could only imagine
the pain and the torture that Joe was being forced to go through at that
exact moment.  He crept into the corner of his room and shuddered.
Punches, kicks, and loud, piercing shrieks of pain could be heard from
where Derek was.  Derek felt the pain...he felt Joe's pain piercing through
his own body...flowing through his own veins.  Derek couldn't bear hear Joe
suffer...the screams and the sheer agony.  Then...it stopped.
	"Little bitch!" Derek heard a loud voice say, as footsteps
resonated out the door.  After a couple of minutes, sensing that Keisuke
was gone, Derek creaked the door open and crept into the 4-doored bathroom.
He grabbed a small towel off of the towel rack and placed it under the sink
for a while, until it became cool and damp.  Then, mustering all the
courage he could manage, Derek walked into Joe's room and gasped.
	There, on the floor, was Joe...beaten, bruised, and bloody.  Derek
walked up to Joe, who was breathing heavily through his sobs.
	"Joe..." Derek whispered, tentatively approaching Joe's limp form.
"Are you...are you okay?"
	Joe moaned quietly...a clear no.  But Joe's eyes were calm and
inviting as he looked at Derek, which was a sign to Derek that he was safe
to approach.  Derek walked up to Joe and cleaned his wounds with the damp
towel.  Joe sat up slowly and met Derek, face to face.
	"It sucks that you have to go through this...day after day," said
Derek.
	"Yeah...it does.  It really does," responded Joe.
	"Why does he do that to you all the time?" Derek questioned.  "Why
don't you just call the police or something?"
	"The nearest police station is 50 miles away.  They don't even
bother to take care of us," said Joe.  "Plus...I have no clue why he does
this...I..."  Tears began to flow down Joe's face.  "Keisuke just hates
me...he feels like he needs to beat me up."
	"It's okay," said Derek, embracing Joe tightly.  "You're gonna make
it, Joe.  Just stay strong."  Joe nodded, as Derek continued to wipe Joe's
wounds.  Maybe life wasn't so bad after all.  Sure...he still had to deal
with Keisuke's beatings.  Sure...he still had to cope with his enormous
workload.  But now, something was different.  Joe had a friend...somebody
he could talk to...somebody he could depend upon for comfort and support.
It was his angel.  And his name was Derek.  But deep down, Joe knew that he
wasn't happy having Derek as just a friend.  He wanted to do more with
their relationship.  But not now.  Not tonight.  That chilly night, Derek
and Joe slept together in each other's embrace.  It was the beginning of
something new...something new and wonderful.

Sorry for the delay, guys.  I've been really busy lately.  Please email any
and all comments, good or bad, to me, Steve, at aramflag@yahoo.com.