Let the Music Play - 14. Shop 'till you Drop

“We need to get a cab back to the hotel, well I do anyway. The other three are going shopping and I’m not invited,” Chase said, trying his best to look dejected.

“Not invited while they shop for your birthday presents? Poor little pretty boy, that’s just so sad,” Helen chuckled, before adding with a scowl, “I don’t like the idea of you lot going out in public without security. Günter isn’t on call tonight, and I do note that you’ve disguised yourselves somewhat adequately, so I’ll call you a cab and it can drop Chase off on the way. I’ve had a few glasses of wine, and so has Barbra, or I’d take you myself. Just don’t be too late. Where did you have in mind?”

“Beverly Center, it’s pretty close to our hotel.” Jon replied, breaking his silence and trying to avoid Helen’s gaze.

“That’s a bit too public,” replied Helen evenly as Jerry and Barbra joined them.

“I heard something about needing a cab to Beverly Center?” asked a chipper Jerry, “I’m going back to my home in Pacific Palisades and that wouldn’t be far out of my way. I’d be delighted to offer you all a ride.”

“Sure,” Jon replied, leaping at the chance, “we’d need to drop Chase off at our hotel first though; we’re shopping for his birthday presents.”

“Oh my, a shopping trip for the dear birthday boy; of course I’ll give you a ride. I’ll even offer some advice if it’s wanted; I know Beverly Center quite well, and if there’s one thing a gay man knows, it’s shopping!”

Eager to escape Helen’s wrathful glare, Eric and Jon led the way to Jerry’s Suburban.

En route, they made small talk with Jerry, mainly about the coming tour, as Jon noticed Eric glowering in the rear seat beside him. After tapping Eric’s foot and giving him a warning look, Jon tapped Chase on the shoulder as they reached the hotel, “We’ll be back in an hour and a half, and we’ve got our cells. Got your key card?”

Chase climbed out onto the sidewalk, tapping his rear pocket in reply, as he watched Jerry pull away into the heavy traffic before heading for his room.

Once they’d arrived at the mall, Jerry said, “I have an appointment early in the morning, and much to do to prepare, so I can’t stay long. Will you be all right calling a cab from here?”

Assured that they would be fine, Jerry led them inside as Brandon looked around beginning to feel out of place in the fancy mall, with its three stories of elegant shops, under a soaring glass roof, multi-story mosaic video displays, glass elevators amidst large palm trees and marble floors. It wasn’t the sort of mall he was used to, of that he was certain.

Sweeping his arm around, Jerry said, “This mall has one floor on the ground level, then five floors of parking. We’re on the sixth floor here, which is the main level, and there are two floors above us.

“Now, you each need to get Chase a present, correct?” Jerry asked. Receiving three nods, he queried, “Do any of you have any idea what you want to get?”

Jon mentioned a camera, while Eric said he was thinking of either a compound bow, or a pocket-sized GPS. With a smile Jerry said, “You’re in luck. Go up to the eighth level and find the big H&M store, right in the middle. Once there, turn and face it. The store immediately to the left is an excellent sporting-goods store, and the store to the left of that is a superb camera shop. You two head up there, and I’ll talk to Brandon for a minute and see if I can get him squared away. We’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

* * *

As soon as the elevator door closed, Jon asked, “What the hell is the deal between you and Jerry? Is it because he yelled at you at the party, or because he’s a flamer?”

Eric turned to stare out through the glass as he replied, “You remember my friend from back home? You don’t get any flamier than him, so duh, that’s not it. I know I had it coming at the party, too... I guess I can’t let go of the fact that he’s Lump’s father; apples not falling far from the tree, ya know? Don’t forget, he knows about Brandon and Chase, and Helen wasn’t too happy about that.”

The door hissed open, and leading the way out, Jon replied with a scowl and sarcastic edge to his voice, “Yeah, that’s so true. Brandon’s folks tried to destroy him, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Speaking of which, what about our own damn parents? Yeah, that makes so much sense; blame a person because of who they’re related to. As for him knowing about Brandon and Chase, yeah, but he’s a closet case himself to most people. Hell, Jerry just sprung us from Helen; she’d have put the kibosh on this shopping trip if it weren’t for him. Just give the guy a break, okay?”

“I guess you’re right. Okay, okay, I guess I’ll give him a chance.”

* * *

Jerry smiled as he spotted the love-bite peeking out from beneath the collar of Brandon’s shirt, “I see that things went well for you and Chase; congratulations, my boy. Now, cutting to the chase, if you’ll pardon the pun, are his brothers aware of your relationship?”

Brandon considered for a moment what he should say, but the proverbial cat was already out of the bag, so he replied with a smile, “They know; I’ve got no secrets from them.”

“Oh my, I’ve sent those two gorgeous specimens away for nothing then. Let’s catch up to them while we try and figure out what you can get for your spectacular boyfriend; I don’t suppose you have any ideas? ” Jerry asked as he walked with Brandon towards the elevator.

Once in the glass-encased lift, Brandon replied, “No clue. I suck at shopping.”

“Fear not, dear boy, Jerry’s here to help. Now, what you need is something special; something that speaks from the heart. Perhaps something he can wear close to his heart, such as a pendant? Either gold or silver would look positively scrumptious against his exquisite skin and chest. There is an absolutely delightful little jewelry store that specializes in Sterling Silver down on the level we just left. Let’s round up your fellow studs and see what we can find.”

Brandon nodded as they exited the elevator, hoping that the price tag would not exceed his means.

They found Jon in the camera store, already completing a purchase. Once Jon was done, with a gift wrapped box safely in his shopping bag, they walked over to the sporting goods store to find Eric talking with a salesman who had a GPS unit in hand. Jerry immediately interceded, saying to the salesman in a more forceful, manly voice than they’d ever heard him use, “Show my friend a Magellan. What you have there has an inadequate battery life, just one hour. It is also overly bulky.”

The salesman quickly produced the specified units, showing Eric several models while explaining the differences. Selecting one by pointing at it, Eric said, “Ring it up, and gift wrap it, please.”

Brandon was shocked when he heard the twelve-hundred-dollar price. Eric noticed his friend’s ill-concealed shocked expression, giving him a quick re-assuring wink and a smile as he waited for the salesman to wrap the package.

On their way down in the elevator, Eric said to Jerry in a quiet voice, “Thanks for the help back there, I think he was trying to sell me junk, and he almost did.”

“Profit margins often dictate the salesperson’s commission; he’d have likely made a few extra dollars by selling you that sub-par junk in lieu of the better, more expensive unit you now have. I’ll wager he talked it up pretty well, didn’t he?” Jerry asked.

“He sure did. Thanks.”

“Any time, my boy, any time. Now, we have a special gift to pick out, because Brandon needs something very special to give Chase; something from the heart. We’re going to look at some sterling silver necklaces. I must be leaving in a few minutes; are you quite certain you’ll be okay getting a cab?”

“We can just walk, it’s only about a mile and a half,” Eric replied.

“Helen would not approve of you three being out on the streets, alone at night, especially toting some expensive purchases in shopping bags.” Jerry warned.

“Yeah, good point. I saw cabs out front when we pulled up, so we probably won’t even need to call one, but we will if we need to,” Jon replied.

Jerry led them into the jewelry store, glancing nervously at his watch as he strode directly to a display case. Taking Brandon by the arm, he said, “The one on the top left would look positively exquisite on him. There are also several on the bottom row that you should look at, the three on the far right, and the one in the center,” letting go of Brandon, Jerry said to them all, “I’m sorry, but I really must be going, I’ve got so much to do before my meeting tomorrow... You can never be late in the shipping business, after all. I hope the concerts go well. I’ll probably stop in to supervise some of the shipping arrangements a little later in your tour, so I’ll see you all soon.”

“Thanks for everything, you’ve been great,” Brandon said with a smile, as a thought crossed his mind and he played a hunch, breaking into a grin to add, “You’re meeting someone special tonight, aren’t you?”

“I, well, yes; it’s a first date and I’m rather nervous. I haven’t dated in a very long time...” Jerry replied with a shy smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Remember what you told me; fortune favors the bold. Just go and have fun,” Brandon said with a wink as his band mates nodded their agreement. With a flamboyant wave, Jerry bid the trio farewell before he hurried off, as Brandon thought to himself, ‘Jerry’s not the only one with big plans tonight,’ as Chase’s image filled his mind.

“I guess he’s pretty cool after all,” Eric said, finally subsuming the last of his reservations, “He sure helped me out tonight.”

After watching Jerry leave, Brandon turned back towards the display case to see that Eric had attracted a young saleslady and was busily pointing out the necklaces Jerry had selected. His stomach feeling as if it was host to a butterfly convention, Brandon walked over to the counter as the necklaces were laid out on a sheet of black velvet. Looking at the first one Jerry had picked out, a round pendant with fluted edges framing a brilliant round Tiger’s Eye stone the size of a quarter in the center, Brandon was mesmerized. The golden stone, he thought, would be a perfect complement to Chase’s golden tan. He had to have it.

The saleslady noticed his interest, “That’s an exquisite stone, isn’t it? One of the finest I’ve ever seen; superb refraction; it really does look like a big cat’s eye. Tiger’s Eye is one of my favorite gemstones; they say it’s beneficial for health and spiritual well-being and a psychic protector, great for business, and an aid to achieving clarity. This one was mined in Western Australia, which has the finest quality Tiger’s Eyes on Earth.”

Tuning out most of the sales spiel, Brandon’s ears perked up at the mention of Australia; it just seemed so perfect to him, because they’d just found out they’d be going there. “How much is it?” he asked, hoping against hope that he could afford it.

“Its full price is twenty-three hundred dollars,” she said, as Brandon’s stomach began to churn, knowing that it was much more than he could afford. “But there is a twenty percent in-store discount, and we’re having a sale tomorrow which would reduce it further, so I could give you that discount as well, which would lower the price to only fifteen-hundred dollars, if you buy it today.”

He knew to the dollar how much he had left on his card; he could cover it, with about fifty dollars to spare. Telling the lady he needed to think on it for a few minutes, he exited the store, motioning for Jon and Eric to follow.

As soon as they were outside he asked, “What kind of expenses am I looking at before the concert money comes in?” he asked.

Eric stood back, out of Brandon’s field of view but within Jon’s, holding up his hand and catching his brother’s eye before running his fingers together in the sign for ‘money’.

“Nothing really, the expenses are paid by the business when we’re on the road,” Jon replied, deciding to stretch the truth just a little and make up the difference himself, “Get it, I know you want to. Don’t worry about the money.”

“Thanks,” Brandon replied with a nervous smile, before turning to head back inside. With a nod at the waiting saleslady, he said, “I’ll take it.”

Smiling sweetly she punched the numbers into a calculator, “That will come to sixteen hundred and twenty nine dollars, and seventy-five cents. Will that be debit or credit?”

Brandon’s heart sank as he realized he’d forgotten the tax. Even with the fifty dollars in his wallet, he wouldn’t have enough. A flash of green interrupted him as Eric rushed to his side, placing two hundred-dollar bills on the black velvet, chucking, “You forgot about the sales tax, huh? I do that all the time. Let me help, and don’t argue; it’s the least I can do after you donated in our name to smooth things over with Jerry, and for not killing us last night, too.” Giving Brandon a pat on the back, Eric darted away before he could object.

Fishing out his debit card, Brandon said, “Fifteen hundred and fifty on the debit card, please, and the rest from the cash,” he said, pulling a twenty, a five, and a couple of ones from his wallet, using them to replace one of Eric’s C-notes before asking, “Could you gift wrap it too?

With a nod, she guided Brandon over to the register, letting him swipe the card through the reader and enter his PIN number. Breathing a little easier once the transaction completed and he had the receipt in hand, along with remaining hundred dollar bill, he waited while the saleslady wrapped the necklace. Carefully placing the wrapped and bowed box in a plastic bag, she returned to the counter, her eyes lingering a little too long on Brandon’s face before flying open in recognition. “You’re Brandon Wolfe, aren’t; you?” she gushed, a little too loudly, still holding onto the bag and making no move to hand it over.

Glancing around, his nerves suddenly raw, he said, “Please hand me my bag,” as Eric and Jon, having heard the exclamation, appeared by his side, their caps pulled down a little lower. Tugging his own cap lower over his eyes, Brandon asked again, more forcefully, “Give me my bag.”

Oblivious to his request, the sales clerk babbled, her eyes opening wider yet as she recognized Jon and Eric, “I’ve got to tell Trisha, she’s got your poster!” before turning and waving to attract the attention of a girl at another counter, “It’s Brandon Wolfe and Instinct,” she yelled across the room. Windmilling her arm even after her friend had noticed, she backed up a pace towards Brandon as she saw her friend running over. With the bag within range, Brandon seized his chance. Jumping forward to reach over the counter, his feet leaving the floor, he grasped his prize, tearing it from the startled girl’s hand. Turning to leave as soon as his feet hit the floor, he came face to face with a very large mall security guard who wrapped a big, meaty paw around Brandon’s arm, “Just where do you think you’re going?” he snarled.

* * *

“You four: stop standing around and get your belongings stowed in the bunkhouse,” Dimitri growled, motioning for one of his security people to make sure they complied. Twelve men in all; three former soviet Spetznaz special operations troops for security, and nine specialists from the Middle East; two metallurgists, three gunsmiths, and four machinists comprised their small workforce. With the exception of the Spetznaz, whom he’d armed with smuggled AK-47’s, everyone, he was thankful to discover, spoke at least passable English.

While the arrivals stowed their gear, Dimitri hauled the engineer aside to ask, “What are the chances that they will discern our purpose here?”

“Low at first, but if any of them have any knowledge at all of nuclear weapon design, they will know. The components they will be making are unique to the purpose, and they will surely suspect something, given the isolation here and your armed guards. However, we should be safe, for a while, though towards the end it will become obvious. The first sets of components they will be working on are just assembly jigs and structural braces; they could be for anything. My suggestion is that you start a rumor; we are working on aircraft avionics and need secrecy for commercial reasons. They are from totalitarian states, so they ought not to find the security too unusual. That cover story should suffice long enough.”

Dimitri glanced towards the bunkhouse, “I doubt any of them would be inclined to object even if they knew; it would be obvious what we would do to them were they to do so. Very well, we will attempt to keep them in the dark, as the Americans say. How soon can you begin?”

“The jigs are just a matter of machining aluminum to the proper form; as soon as they have stowed their gear, I will introduce them to the machinery and see how they do. We have plenty of aluminum plate, so if any are incompetent it is best that we find out with the jigs. We will be casting and machining the depleted uranium next to last, and the plutonium last of all. Those, of course, will leave no doubt as to our product. We could not deceive the metallurgists; they would recognize the uranium and plutonium from its handling requirements if nothing else. The depleted uranium has other uses, but the plutonium will, as they say, give the game away.”

Checking his watch, Dimitri told the engineer, “Our employer will be arriving in a few hours. Make certain that you have detailed designs and are ready to explain them; he is not a patient man.”

* * *

Realizing that what he’d done must look like a theft attempt, Brandon held up the receipt, “It’s paid for.”

Jon stood by Brandon’s side to say, “Officer, he’s a celebrity who’s just been recognized, and that air-headed clerk was hollering his name and wouldn’t give him his purchase. You’re putting his safety at risk, and also that of the crowd that’s going to appear unless you let him go. You can’t legally stop us, he’s got a receipt; that’s his property now.”

After looking closely at the receipt, the security guard looked at the salesgirl, now joined by her giggling friend, “Is this true?”

Beginning to understand that she’d just put her job at risk, the salesgirl didn’t answer. “I’ve got his poster,” gushed Trisha, as if that made everything okay.

Making a quick decision, based largely on the fact that he couldn’t detain a man for taking his own property, along with the looming threat of a crowd gathering, the guard let go of Brandon’s arm, “You’re free to go.”

Wasting no time, the three jogged down the mall, attracting even more attention, before running down the stairs to street level and finding an exit. Rushing out into the smoggy night air, Jon led them towards the taxi rank he’d seen on the opposite side of the mall. “Thanks,” Brandon said, pulling even as they walked along the sidewalk.

“No problem, this shit happens all the time,” Jon replied, “We have to be on guard every damn minute we’re out in public.”

Suddenly understanding something from days before, Brandon replied, “And that’s why you guys go kinda crazy when you get a chance to let loose, right? You’re under scrutiny every minute.”

Throwing a friendly arm across Brandon’s shoulders, Eric nodded before saying, “Yep, that about sums it up. It’s like being grounded but it never ends. Chase deals with it a lot better than we do, but yeah, welcome to our world, bro.”

As they rounded the corner, Brandon shoved the c-note into the side pocket of Eric’s jeans, “I didn’t need ‘em both, but thanks, I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

Realizing that Brandon must be nearly broke, but deciding not to argue, Eric gave him a pat on the back, “Anytime, man, anytime.”

They neared the main entrance, with no taxis in sight. With a longing look down the busy street, Jon reached for his cell.

Brandon saw the look, and understood what his two friends were feeling; the need to do something normal, like walk a few blocks in public. Throwing his arms around their shoulders as he stood between them, he said, “Come on, let’s walk. It’s only a few blocks, and I used to walk everywhere, including some really rough areas, which this isn’t.”

With eager grins, they set out, heading south down the sidewalk, leaving Beverly Center behind in the night.

A block later, after they’d carefully folded their shopping bags to make them less obvious, Eric said, “This is great. I can’t remember the last time I just walked down a street. I just hope Helen doesn’t find out,” he added, pointedly emphasizing the last sentence.

“Don’t expect me to keep anything from Chase, but I won’t be telling Helen about this. I think it’s safe enough; we’re a hell of a lot less likely to be recognized out here than we were in that mall,” Brandon said, before turning to walk backwards so he could face the brothers. “Besides, we’ll get there faster this way; we don’t have to wait for a cab somewhere we might be recognized and we don’t have to crawl through the damn traffic,” he added, gesturing at the gridlock beside them as he turned around to lead the way.

Fifteen happy, carefree minutes later, it was all over; they were back in the hotel, entering via Jon’s suite, trying to be as silent as possible so that Chase didn’t hear. Creeping into Jon’s room, they hid the presents in the back of his closet and Brandon set out to find Chase.

Finding him in his suite packing some cardboard boxes, Brandon swept Chase up into a hug, giving him a quick kiss, before asking with a grin, “Did you miss me?”

Chase nodded, hugging Brandon tight, “I sure did, but Helen called right after you guys left, reminding me to get packed. Whatever stuff we have that’s going into storage is being picked up tomorrow. Anything left over is going with us on tour,” he said, looking at Brandon a little wistfully.

As the meaning of Chase’s words set in – it was already getting late, they had to be up early, and they had packing that had to be done tonight – Brandon nodded, trying not to look disappointed, “There’s always tomorrow, or Phoenix.”

After giving Jon and Eric the bad news, he returned and pitched in, helping Chase pack all his wall ornaments, some books, most of his closet contents except for his clothes, and a host of odds and ends. By the time they were finally done, with the boxes stacked just inside the door, it was almost three in the morning.

With tired eyes drooping, Chase said, “We’d better get started on your stuff.”

“That won’t take long; I never unpacked my two boxes and the rest of the stuff I want to take.”

They added Brandon’s boxes to Jon’s pile, a smaller one than Chase’s. Referring to Eric and Jon’s having already finished and gone to bed, Brandon teased as they returned to Chase’s room, “So you’re the pack-rat of the bunch. They don’t have as much stuff as you do.”

“Yeah, I kind of collect stuff and then regret it when I have to pack,” Chase said, before giving the bed a meaningful glance, “I sure wish we didn’t have to be up in a few hours.”

Brandon nodded, pulling his shirt off and shedding his jeans and shoes, “Yeah, me too, but we’ll make up for it tomorrow...” as he pulled Chase into bed.

The wake-up call jarred them out of a deep sleep at ten to eight, giving them barely enough time to get dressed before joining Jon and Eric for a mad dash down to the studio. They made it almost on time, just five minutes late, finding Helen pacing outside the door to their lounge. She passed on the opportunity to chide them for being late, and said simply, “They’re inside.”

Entering the lounge, Brandon hung back, going in last. The three members of The Shadows stood up to greet them, tapping fists with the three brothers. He noticed that they were all dressed in black, though nothing outlandish. Resolving to get it over with, Brandon stepped forward, heading towards the one guy he knew; Zeke.

Zeke’s eyes opened wider in recognition. He stared at Brandon for a few seconds before saying in a guarded tone, “I thought that looked like you in Rolling Stone, but I wasn’t sure and I know your last name’s not Wolfe.”

“Yeah, things change. My last name is Wolfe now...”

“I guess that’s not all that changed. I need to talk to you alone for a few,” Zeke asked.

With a nod, Brandon led Zeke into the deserted hallway. As soon as they were out the door, Zeke said, “My brother told me why you had to leave Phoenix. That stuff is none of my business and I want this tour to happen; I’m not going to rat you out to your group, so don’t go trying to kick us off the tour because you think I would.”

Brandon glanced toward the lounge, “They already know. What about your group? I sure as hell don’t want to put up with any crap if they find out.”

“Dude, we need this tour and I don’t think they’d have a big issue anyway. I’ll talk to ‘em on the way to Phoenix if you want.”

Not wanting to out himself without talking to Helen and his band mates first, and seeing no upside in doing so right away, Brandon replied, forcing himself to appear calm and confident though he was neither, “Leave it alone for now, let’s see how it goes. I doubt they’ll find out unless you tell ‘em.”

“Good enough,” Zeke replied, turning to head back inside. Just before opening the door, he paused facing the door and away from Brandon, “Hey, I’m sorry about what happened back in Phoenix; everyone turning on you like that must have sucked,” he said, before opening the door and heading through into the lounge.

Zeke received a few curious glances from his band mates upon his return, but nothing was said. Picking up on the awkwardness, Helen asked loudly, “I know my guys haven’t had breakfast yet, so why don’t y’all join us? I’ll have the hotel send some over.”

The three members of The Shadows and their manager eagerly accepted, and Helen smiled in relief as the musicians began talking music, something they all had in common.

By the time breakfast was over, Helen could tell that things were going well; the two groups seemed to be getting along, becoming comfortable around one another, which was after all the real purpose of the meeting.

Three hours later, with her charges still talking up a storm with The Shadows, Helen concluded her own conversation with their manager as he said, “We’ve got to be going; I have to get the busses rolling soon or we’ll hit rush hour before we get out of town.”

After a friendly round of handshakes, the groups parted company. The second their guest were gone, Helen fixed Brandon in her gaze and asked, “What was that private chat all about?”

With a shrug, he recounted the conversation, virtually verbatim, as Helen listened impassively before commenting, “Probably a good idea letting them get to know you guys first before spilling the beans. One thing to bear in mind; once they know about both you and Chase, they’ll figure out that you are a couple pretty quick; it’s pretty easy to spot. However, like I said, they’d be cutting their own throats if they made an issue of it, so I think we’re pretty safe.”

Beginning their final rehearsals, Brandon exchanged a burning, passionate glance with Chase; they both knew that tonight, their last night in Los Angeles, they’d finally have time... Their illusion held for almost thirty seconds, until a tech came bounding into the studio, blurting out, “We have a problem with two of the drum solos and one of the vocal tracks.”

Helen rose from her seat to snap, “What the hell happened?”

The tech gave an awkward shrug, trying to avoid her eyes as he admitted, “The digital master for those tracks became corrupted; we don’t know how.”

Fixing the unfortunate tech in her glare, Helen demanded, “Why, exactly, wasn’t there a backup? Our studio lease runs out at five tonight, just over an hour from now. What you are asking will take hours. You will, of course, be taking care of any additional studio fees.”

The tech began to say that he didn’t have the authority to agree to that, but the look in her eyes caused him to nod meekly in acceptance. In a terse voice, Helen said, “You will also back up everything immediately, and deliver a copy to me within fifteen minutes, understood?”

Nodding, and becoming eager to be anywhere else but there, the tech nodded, turning to tell Brandon and Chase, “We’ve got the booths set up, you can start anytime,” before beating a hasty retreat under Helen’s glare.

Turning to her charges, she said, “They should be well into post-production by now, moving towards shipping within two weeks, and that’s only because we’ve had the artistic producer and his team working overtime mixing and mastering each track as it was completed. This kind of a fuck-up is inexcusable. We’re already far behind schedule thanks to Lump, and you boys have worked your asses off to get us this far, but normally an album ships before the first concert of its promotional tour! Yet here we are, having to lay down new tracks the night before the first concert. This is preposterous. If there is any delay in the shipping date as a result of this, I’ll have someone’s head.”

With a resigned sigh and wondering just how long it would take, Brandon led Chase offstage toward the waiting recording booths.

By three in the morning, after dozens of run-throughs, the technicians were at last satisfied. Brandon had been finished hours before, but had stayed to keep Chase company. Staggering out from behind the drums, his bare torso covered with a sheen of sweat, Chase thanked the techs, relieved that the long session was over at last. Glancing at a wall clock as they walked to the door, Chase sighed, exchanging a longing look with Brandon.

“We’ve got to be up in the morning, hell, later this morning, which means the concert is today, about fifteen hours from now. We’ve got to get some sleep,” with a long sigh, Brandon gave voice to the thoughts they were both having, “Won’t we ever get any time?”

Slinging an arm around his boyfriend as they walked down the empty studio corridor, Chase said, “After the concert, no matter what. It’s the night before my birthday and we’ll have a really deluxe suite in a spectacular hotel. It’s also the night of your first big concert. We have to, it would be so perfect. Like I said before, no way in hell am I going to start my eighteenth year as a virgin.”

Minutes later, the two exhausted guys climbed into Chase’s bed, sleep just moments away. The approaching dawn would bring them a truly unforgettable day...