Gap Year - 20. Chapter 20

February 8, 2004

The Bryant Hotel

New York, NY

 

Will

Stef had brought clothes for me that were a little dressier than I normally would have picked for a Sunday afternoon, but I had to admit they made me look good. I smiled, thinking that I was like an evil temptress, trying to lure some vulnerable dude into my lair. That thought turned to laughter which was cut short when I heard a gentle knock on my door. It was 12:57; at least he was prompt. I opened the door with a smile, only to see Patrick standing there frowning. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeve button down shirt with his coat draped over his arm, looking just like an ordinary dude, albeit an amazingly sexy one. “Hey,” I said, and held the door open. He looked around, as if he were worried someone were stalking him, then came in. The door to the suite was open.

“Can we meet in there?” he asked as he walked into the suite.

“Sure,” I said, totally blown away by his attitude.

He didn’t sit down, he just walked into the middle of the room, turned and stared at me. “I need you to stay the fuck away from me.” I blinked because this was so not what I was expecting.

I sat down on the couch and motioned him to a chair. He didn’t move, so I said “Sit,” more as an order. It was funny that he did.

“I’ll bet you thought that was really funny, setting things up so I was sitting next to you last night,” he snarled. Unfortunately for him, I had limited patience with this kind of bullshit.

“I thought it was fucking hilarious, but I had nothing to do with it,” I said, my tone hardening.

“Right,” he said, and rolled his eyes.

“Look dickhead, I didn’t even know for sure I was coming to New York until a few days ago. JJ was pissed off at me for not even letting him know I’d be in town,” I snapped. “But you think that despite that, I somehow rigged the seating arrangement for that dinner?”

“You could have had people do that for you,” he said, which was true.

“Well I didn’t,” I said firmly, all but challenging him to call me a liar.

“Then who did it?” he asked snidely.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” I said, my volume escalating. “I had nothing to do with it. There is absolutely no fucking reason for you be such an asshole. I have been nothing but a friend to you.”

He looked confused, then resolved, and he stood up. “Fine. Just stay the fuck away from me.” With that he started heading toward the door.

I jumped up and grabbed his arm and pulled him back and around so he was facing me. “You’re not fucking going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck this is all about.”

“I’m walking out that fucking door,” he yelled, getting in my face. He was shocked shitless when I got really calm and plastered a smug smile across my face.

“Fine. Go ahead. But as you’re walking out that fucking door, you may want to think about how smart it is to turn me from a friend into an enemy,” I said. That threat had an impact, because he knew that I could cause him shitloads of problems. When you’re an up and coming designer, the last organization you want to piss off is Mode magazine, which Stefan owned. Perhaps worse than that was pissing off Bellona Carter, who was JJ’s BFF. I went back and sat on the couch, looking at him like I was totally disinterested in what decision he made. It was hilarious, because he walked toward the door, stopped, walked a few more steps, then sighed, turned around, and came back and sat in his chair. “Good decision.”

“Why can’t you just do what I asked and leave me alone?” he asked plaintively.

“Because that’s not good enough,” I said. “If you were just a hookup, and I didn’t give a shit about you, it would work. But you’re a little more important to me than that.”

“I’m with Tara now, and I can’t fuck this relationship up like I did with Ella,” he said.

“And how does that have anything to do with me?” I demanded. “I didn’t fuck up your relationship with Ella. That was already a shit show.”

“I didn’t say that you did,” he objected.

“So you’re worried that I’ll come in and mess up this deal with Tara? Dude, that’s bullshit. If you’re with her, and you want to be with her, nothing I say or do should be able to change that. Your deal with her has nothing to do with me,” I said.

“Well, it does change our friendship a bit,” he said, shooting a cute grin at me.

“Because you aren’t allowed to fuck me?” I asked. He nodded. “That’s a bummer, because you are an amazing piece of ass.” It was funny to watch him grin and blush a bit at that.

“So are you,” he admitted.

“But if you’re with her and that’s your deal, that’s your deal. I’m disappointed, but I’m not going to pin you down and force you to have sex with me,” I said.

“That’s my deal,” he said, and seemed disappointed.

“I’m tempted to do a strip tease here to see if you’re sincere,” I flirted.

“Don’t,” he said. He seemed so convoluted.

“Help me put the pieces together,” I said. “You’re with her, and you’re not that into her.”

“I’m into her,” he objected.

“You like being with guys better,” I said.

“Oh, so now you know me better than I know myself,” he said, shaking his head. He was deflecting because I’d nailed it.

“In this case, I do,” I said.

“Whatever,” he said dismissively. “Is this where you tell me that being bisexual isn’t real?”

“Don’t fucking accuse me of being a bigot, asshole!” I snapped. He realized that he’d just crossed a big line.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“When I flew out here to be with you at the last show, I went home so sore I didn’t want to sit down,” I said. “You were an animal.”

“That was a lot of fun,” he said grinning.

“Yeah, but Ella told Darius you weren’t really all that into sex,” I said. He looked shocked, then pissed. That was totally reasonable, since it was a total scumball thing to talk to an ex-partner about your sex life with the person you were currently seeing. I expected nothing less from Ella, but he must have had some remaining faith in her.

“That fucking bitch! She told him that?” he demanded.

“She did, and you’re right, it was a shitty thing for her to do,” I agreed. He said nothing. “You’re with Tara, who is smoking hot, but you’d rather fuck a dude. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I’m where I need to be right now,” he said, trying to dodge the issue.

“Why?” He sighed, hoping that would be enough to stop me from badgering him. As if. “Put this together for me. You’re with her when you really don’t want to be, and you’re determined that I not be within 100 feet of you. Explain that.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be with Tara,” he objected, like that was the issue. I just stared at him and he sighed again. “I have a problem.”

“Maybe I can help,” I said, to encourage him.

He shook his head. “I had a model working for me and it went beyond professional.”

“You’re not the only one who does that,” I said.

“He was 16, just turning 17, when we hooked up,” he said. “And now he’s threatening to sue me for having sex with a minor.”

“Fuck,” I said, even as my mind reeled from that news. “Fuck.”

“I know,” he said despondently. It was like he was trying to evoke sympathy, which threatened to piss me off beyond belief, but I managed to keep my cool.

“What did you do to the dude?” I asked in a gentle way.

“You think I actually raped him?” he demanded, all outraged.

“I did not say that,” I said firmly. “What happened?”

“He was over at my place and I was fitting some new pants on him, and I told him he had a nice ass,” he said flippantly.

“How did you invite him over?” I asked. I could see him getting really angry, so I tried to qualify my question. “Dude, I’m just trying to understand it.”

“What the fuck difference does it make? I already told you what he’s accusing me of and I told you I didn’t fucking rape him,” he spat.

“OK, I’m not a fucking psychologist, but you’re being pretty defensive here,” I said.

He sighed again, as if to convey how much he hated this conversation. “I asked him to come over so we could fit those pants. I wanted to get it done well before this show. I was hungry so I ordered a pizza and we had a couple of beers.” So now he’d given the dude alcohol.

“And then you grabbed his ass,” I teased.

“We made out for a while, he told me he wanted to blow me, but I ended up fucking him. I was his first,” he said. There was so much here to unpack, it was overwhelming.

“I got it,” I lied. “Who is he?”

“I’m not going to tell you his name,” he said emphatically.

“Why the fuck not?” I asked. “What makes you think you can’t trust me?”

He sighed yet again, which almost made me laugh. “Johnny Falco.” How I managed to avoid cringing was beyond me. I’d met Johnny last fall at his show, and he was very hot and very immature. He was tall with an amazing physique, and had dark hair with rounded facial features.

“Dude is hot,” I said.

“Whatever,” Patrick said.

“Is he still in your show on Wednesday?” I asked.

“No,” he said, acting like I was an idiot. “That won’t work, not with him threatening me.” Like he was the victim here.

“So he lost his job too?” I asked, thinking Johnny must really be pissed off now.

“He did not lose his job,” he said, glaring at me, as if he would have done that. “I worked out a deal with Chanel to use him, and I picked up one of the guys they’re not overly happy with. Working with the dude, I can see why, but it’s what I have to do.”

I paused for a bit, thinking about what to say to him. “I understand what you’re saying. Since I’m 17, if we’re together it makes it look like you’re preying on underage dudes.” I began to wonder if that was his deal.

“Being seen with you wouldn’t help,” he agreed. “I really am sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” I lied again. “Is he going public with this, or are you going to be able to keep him quiet?”

“I’m trying to figure out if I can afford to settle with him if he actually sues me,” he said.

“You probably can’t afford not to,” I said. His business and his career would be seriously damaged.

“Yeah, but I’ll be strapped for cash, and it will be tough to make the spring show,” he said. I was tempted to offer to help him, but I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t guilty.

“Well good luck,” I said. “In the meantime, we’ll act like buds in public and I won’t hang around you.”

“Thanks, Will,” he said. He suddenly realized that was my way of getting rid of him. He stood up and I rose as well, then he walked toward me and gave me a big hug, which I returned as much as I could. “I figured that you would try to get me to jump in bed with you,” he said flirtatiously.

That was my plan before, but that was so not going to happen now. “Dude, you told me your deal, and I respect that.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and led him to the door. He looked disappointed, and I knew that if I’d wanted to, I could have gotten him to fuck me. After he left, I felt unclean, totally dirty. My one driving motivation was to get the fuck out of the hotel, so I waited until I was sure he had left the floor, then hurried out of the room and snagged an elevator. I tried to make sure he was gone when I got to the lobby, and fortunately I’d waited enough time and he was nowhere to be seen, so I walked out of the hotel and into the shitty New York weather. Stef had packed clothes for me, but like the rest of us Californians, he was oblivious to the need for heavy winter coats. It was overcast and thirty degrees, with a snowflake falling here and there, and I found myself freezing my ass off as I stood by the street trying to flag a fucking cab. I got lucky and some cabbie had pity on me, so when he dropped me off at the condo, I gave him a massive tip. I walked into the condo, still shivering, and surprisingly enough, I found it empty. It was as quiet as a tomb. JJ and Stef must both be out, Grand must have gone with them, and today was Jacinta’s day off. I sighed with relief, feeling like I’d finally gotten to a safe place. I wandered into the main room and found Grand relaxing in the one chair in this place that was comfortable: Stef and JJ’s modern furniture choices looked great but weren’t all that nice to sit on. Of course he’d bail on their activities and stay here, enjoying the quiet and solace. “Hey there!” I said pleasantly.

“Good afternoon,” he said, looking up from his article.

“Everybody left?” I asked.

“As I am sitting here, that is obviously not the case,” he said, cracking me up.

“Obviously,” I agreed. “What are your plans for today?”

He looked at me with a bit of concern. “I am afraid that if I tell you I am free, you will compel me to do something I do not want to do.”

“Or you may have fun,” I said. “How about lunch?”

“Now that you mention it, I have not eaten since breakfast,” he said. We went and got our coats, bundled ourselves up, and walked to this pub around the corner that my father liked.

“It’s fucking cold,” I grumbled.

“Having lived in California for over thirty years, I find I am no longer toughened by Ohio winters,” he said.

“Well I never had to endure them, so this just sucks,” I said. We walked along for a bit, trying not to shiver.

“I understand I owe my charming dinner companion to you,” he said, and gave me a dirty look.

I laughed. “I did not set up the tables. It’s not my fault if she can’t read name cards.”

“That was Patrick Christian’s girlfriend?” he asked. I nodded. “I’ll have to send him a couple of books so his brain does not turn into a desert wasteland.” I was laughing my ass off at that, which coincided with us arriving at the pub.

“I have to say that you looked like a caged lion when you were sitting there with her,” I said, and started laughing again. He frowned at me. “At least you got a good workout with all your dancing.”

“That had initially confused me, since I certainly did not think I would have been the partner of choice,” he said, looking at me in an accusing way. “Only when I was dancing with Lady Albemarle did I learn that I owed my reputation as twinkle toes to your gossip.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, smirking at him. In the past when we’d come to this place, we’d gotten hammered, but this time we settled for food and beer. “I met with Patrick Christian an hour ago,” I told him.

He looked at me in a considering way, since it would have been pretty ambitious for me to fuck Patrick and hurry back to the condo and get to the restaurant in that amount of time. “I take it this was not a conjugal visit?”

I laughed, then got serious. “No. I’d plotted for it to be, but in the end I’m glad it wasn’t.”

“Why the change of heart?” he asked.

“He walked in and told me to stay the fuck away from him, which was not what I was expecting,” I said.

“That’s certainly not a polite way to start a conversation,” he said with a slight smile, making me chuckle.

“It wasn’t, and as you might imagine, it didn’t get a very good reaction,” I said.

He laughed at that, and my ability to sometimes be a hothead. “I suspect it did not.”

“So after an unpleasant conversation, he told me the reason is that he’s being sued by some dude who was 16 when Patrick fucked him.”

“That is indeed a problem,” Grand said. “What do you think?”

“Well, I personally think the laws against having sex with people who are under 18 are kind of bullshit, because some guys can handle it,” I said.

“Like you?” he asked.

“Like me,” I agreed. “On the other hand, some guys are so not ready for that.”

“I think that in this case, the law is designed to protect minors in general, as it is safer to assume a 16- or 17-year-old male cannot handle sex with an adult and therefore should be protected, than to assume that he can. In the former case, it could be quite traumatic for the teen, while in the latter, it is merely an inconvenience,” he observed.

“I can see that,” I agreed, as I thought about some of the gay guys I knew at Menlo. “Some of the guys at school were so immature it would have made me nervous to fuck them, and I’m under 18.”

“It is hard to evaluate the situation if you do not know which one of those this young man was,” he said.

“I know him, or at least I met him,” I said. “He’s probably the kind of dude who couldn’t handle it.”

“I am surprised he told you who the young man was since there is litigation involved,” he said, more of a question.

“I think our conversation was unpleasant enough that he decided it was easier to tell me than to have an argument about that too,” I said wryly. “Besides, he hasn’t sued Patrick yet, he’s just threatened to sue him.”

“Why is this troubling you?” he asked.

“You don’t think this situation is completely fucked up?” I asked a little too loudly.

“I did not say that,” he said firmly, to calm me down. “I am wondering what about it bothers you.” When he said that, I understood that he was trying to get me to think things through by identifying the issues, so I obliged.

“It bothers me because I was there, I was in the same situation that this dude is in, and I remembered how fucked up I was after that asshole molested me in Paris,” I said, cringing as I recalled that incident. I’d felt sorry for Johnny Falco before, but revisiting my own trauma amplified that.

“I can see the similarities,” he said, more to let me know he was listening to me.

“It also bothers me that this dude I was really into may have done something shitty like this, so I’m dealing with that,” I said.

“Your perception of him has perhaps been forever altered,” he noted.

I nodded grimly. “I think about how much I had enjoyed my time with him, and how I’d liked the person that he was, and then he turns out to be Jeffrey Dahmer.”

“That is a bit of an exaggeration, but I understand the sentiment. It is hard to have your ideal of a man suddenly shattered by the real person he appears to be,” he said a bit introspectively, probably thinking about the guys in the past who had done that to him.

“It does, and it makes me wonder if he was just with me because I was young, and not because he really liked me,” I said, really driving into my core feelings.

“Those are all good reasons for you to be disturbed, but you do not have enough data to confirm or deny your concerns,” he said logically. “I am not saying you should not act on your instincts and keep your distance from Patrick, I am just saying that you may not want to jump to conclusions.”

“How can I not jump to conclusions?” I demanded. Fortunately, our lunch and another beer arrived to quell my temper, which kept trying to emerge.

“You are worried about this young man who Patrick molested, but you do not have his side of the story yet. It is possible, on the one hand, that his innocence and perhaps something worse was torn away from him. It is also possible that he engineered this entire situation to create a blackmail scenario,” Grand observed. That sounded cold-hearted on his part, but it would be naïve to think that wasn’t a possibility, and he was just reminding me to stay objective. The law was clearly on Johnny’s side, but this was more than just a legal issue.

“What do you think?” I asked, because it was a relief to put him on the spot in this conversation, and I genuinely wanted his opinion.

“As I noted, we do not have enough data,” he said. “First of all, you will probably never know exactly what happened, because both Patrick and this other male will both have their own stories. In that case, all you can really do is to take both of their versions and decide on your own what transpired. Until you develop a reasonable theory on the event, you will not be able to solidify your decision about Patrick’s guilt, nor any residual feelings about him.”

“I can see that,” I said.

“Unfortunately it will probably be hardest to tell if he was with you because you were young, and if that is what he looks for,” Grand said.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, even though I had pretty much thought the same thing.

“Because it is difficult to discern the difference between his attraction to you due to your youth as opposed to you as a person,” he noted. That made sense.

“I can see that, since Johnny and I are kind of similar in our basic appearance, although he is so much hotter than me,” I said. “How would you approach that?” The cool thing about talking to Grand is that he got me off my emotional roller coaster ride and made me think about things logically.

“I think you should talk to Stef and use his gossip chain to find out if there are other minors Patrick has slept with,” Grand said.

“Makes sense,” I said, nodding. “Look for a pattern.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You may also want to think back about your time together. Was he only focused on your body, or was he focused on your mind and your personality?”

“That’s hard to say,” I said as I thought about it. “You know, now that I think about it, it’s not hard to say at all. He focused on all three of them.”

“In that case, it is possible that he was drawn to you for your youth, but appreciated your other qualities as well,” he said. “That does not preclude him from being a predator, it merely means that the relationship you shared could be less shallow than you are concerned it was.”

I paused to eat and take a swig of beer. “I guess in the end it really doesn’t matter. That part of it is just me trying not to get my ego torn to shreds.”

He chuckled. “Then perhaps you should just assume it is so, discarding any threat to your self-esteem, and focus on the other, deeper issues.”

“I’m wondering how weird it would be for me to talk to this other guy about what happened,” I mused as much to myself as to him.

“It may be strange, but I am not sure there is any risk of you doing so,” he said. “He may tell you to, as you would put it, ‘fuck off’, but you may also be able to help him out.”

I laughed at his correct assumption of what he might say to me, then got serious. “I have a really strong desire to do that, to reach out to him.”

“And you do not understand why,” he concluded.

“I don’t,” I admitted.

“I will tell you my read on things, but only you truly know what your motives are,” he said, shooting a disclaimer out there like he was a lawyer.

“I know that,” I said a bit tersely.

“I think there are two driving motivations here,” he said. “The first is that you know what this young man has been through, and you want to try to help.”

“You’re saying I’m that selfless?” I asked, laughing.

“I am,” he said sincerely, freaking me out.

“Thanks,” I said, humbled by his praise.

“The other thing is that I have noticed that when you encounter a dilemma, you instinctively want to solve the problem, or right a wrong,” he said. I thought about that.

“Yeah, I guess I do that too,” I agreed. I didn’t think that was a bad thing, and he didn’t seem to think so either.

“Would you mind if I shared this with Stef when he gets back?” Grand asked.

“I’m fine with that, but tell him not to spread it around,” I told him. “I don’t want to cause Patrick or this other guy more problems.”

“I will attempt to impress upon him the need for him to keep his mouth shut,” Grand said, making me chuckle.

We finished our lunch, paid the bill, and walked back to the condo. I left him alone so he could read his article, while I went back to my room and crashed, letting sleep help me erase this issue for a bit.

I felt someone gently stroking my back, bringing me out of my sleep in a most pleasant way. “You will want to get up and get ready,” Stef said gently.

“Okay,” I said, as I stretched and yawned, and flipped over onto my back. “What’s up?”

“JJ’s friend should be arriving within the hour,” Stef said, then smirked. “He seems quite excited.”

I snaughed. “This should be interesting.”

“JP spoke to me about your conversation this afternoon,” Stef said. I’d managed to put that out of my mind for a few hours, only for it to come crashing back at me when I woke up.

“I’m glad,” I said, since that way I wouldn’t have to relive the story again.

“I will keep my ears open regarding Patrick’s other male partners,” he said.

“That’s not a bad idea anyway, in case they’re hot,” I joked, making him chuckle.

“Indeed,” he said. “I will offer my opinion if you would like to hear it.”

“I would,” I said, and sat up to show him he had my full attention.

“I had the opportunity to watch you and Patrick interact last time we were here,” he said.

“That’s amazing, considering all the other drama you got to deal with,” I said.

“This much is true,” he said, shaking his head. “I think that Patrick genuinely cared about you. I think he was attracted to you the person, not you the object.”

“Thanks for saying that,” I said sincerely. Stef’s instincts in situations like this were usually spot on.

“I cannot speculate about the rest of it because I do not know who the other person is,” he said, digging for info in a gentle way.

“I know I can trust you, but for my own peace of mind, I need to remind you not to let anyone know who he is,” I said. He stared at me, silently acknowledge my insecurity about this. “Johnny Falco.”

“My impression of him is of someone who is very new to all this, and is also not very bright,” Stef said.

“All of his assets are in his appearance?” I asked, joking.

“I would not say that,” Stef said. “While he has some of the bitchiness that all models seem to carry, I understand he is a nice person.”

“Well, it’s good that he has something else to rely on in case he suddenly turns ugly,” I said.

“You have not seen him for a few months, while I saw him today,” Stef said.

“So,” I said, trying to figure out what he was saying.

“Before he was beautiful, now he is stunning,” Stef said.