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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gap Year - 59. Chapter 59

March 1, 2004

Beverly Hills, CA

 

Will

I almost giggled as I climbed into the big Suburban limo. Stef had grown very attached to these large SUVs, and while he said it was due to the extra room, I think he also liked them because they were taller and Grand had to stretch a bit to get in them. Tom had opted to sit up front with the driver, so it ended up being just Stef and I in the back.

“I like Travis,” Stef said.

“I like him a lot,” I said, grinning. “He bottomed for me last night.”

“And that was a new experience for him?” Stef asked.

“He told me that he didn’t like to do it because he didn’t enjoy it,” I said. “We had a conversation with Kevin and Cody about it.”

“Indeed?” Stef asked. I replayed that conversation for him. “So were you able to help him get over his discomfort?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, grinning at him and making him laugh. “He likes edging, so I made sure to take a really long time.”

“I have found that having sex with someone who enjoys edging can be fun, up to a point,” Stef said.

“Up to a point?” I asked.

He nodded. “I was once with a man who enjoyed it but made it last a bit too long for me.” He looked really annoyed by that.

“Why does this bother you?” I asked.

“I pride myself on making sure my partner is satisfied, and I found it very difficult to maintain control of my body for that long,” he said.

“You blew too soon,” I paraphrased, just like I did for Grand, only instead of frowning at me, he laughed.

“I did,” he admitted.

“Travis asked me what it was that set me free during sex,” I said. “How would you answer that question?”

“Set me free?” Stef asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Kind of like how Robbie was about fisting.”

“Ah,” he said. “I do not have a specific kink or practice that will do that. For me, I am fulfilled if my partner achieves a spectacular orgasm.” I was grinning like an idiot after he said that. “Why is that funny?”

“Because that’s exactly the same answer I gave Travis,” I said. We smiled and shared an intense look, bonding over how similar we were.

“I must tell you how much I enjoy the time we spend together,” he said. I almost freaked out, thinking he was giving me shit for all but blowing him off over the past few days, but our eyes met and I could see he was being sincere.

“I feel the same way,” I said, and moved in front of him so I could give him a big hug.

“I have come a long way from the person I was last year,” he said introspectively. “I used to look at you and feel jealousy because you are now the ‘me’ I cannot be any more. Now I look at you and feel pride.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“It is true,” he said firmly.

“I am so glad we are beyond that shit,” I said. I hugged him again for a long time. “You are such an important person in my life. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. I sat back in my seat and that seemed to end our sentimental moment. “How long has it been since you have seen Travis’s mother?”

“Not since his grandfather’s funeral,” I said.

“She has not changed that much,” he said.

“Isn’t she from Switzerland or something like that?” I asked.

“She is,” he said. “Her mother is originally from the area around Geneva while her father was from the Zurich area.”

“We always spoke French,” I recalled, thinking of my conversations with her.

“Her mother’s native language was French, while her father’s was German,” Stef said. “She is fluent in both.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “I remember that Travis was better at German and didn’t have French down very well.”

“She is almost a walking definition of Eurotrash,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I asked curiously.

“Eurotrash was a term that arose during the 1980s and refers to wealthy European socialites who settle in the United States,” he said. “I have sometimes been mistakenly lumped in with that group.”

“The jet setter crowd?” I asked.

“That is another way to put it,” he said.

“No wonder she’s still trying to milk Curtis Buck for money,” I said.

“I would have thought that was all settled when they divorced,” Stef said, confused.

“Yeah, but he’ll drop her some cash if she gives him juicy tidbits about their kids,” I said.

“As you think about that, I hope you now realize that as bad as your father is, he could have been so much worse,” Stef said. I laughed at that.

“He’s still pretty bad when it comes to control issues,” I said. “In any event, that’s why Travis has to be on the DL.”

“I do not understand,” Stef said.

“He thinks his mother suspects, but if he tells her, she might tell his father and score a big payout,” I said.

“Why would his father be upset that he is gay?” Stef asked. “I never pegged him for being a bigot.”

“He has no problem with gay people as long as they aren’t blood relations,” I said in disgust.

“That is sad and reprehensible all at the same time,” Stef says.

“It is, especially since it puts Travis into a situation where he has to lie about who he is,” I said.

“I can see why a relationship with Zach works well for both of them,” Stef said, now that he had put all of the pieces together.

“Yeah, it’s just terrific,” I said sarcastically, getting a sympathetic grin from him.

“I am wondering what your plans are for Curtis Buck?” Stef asked.

“Am I required to have plans?” I asked, with a hint of snippiness.

“You are not,” he said. “But if you develop plans, I am requesting that you consult with me or JP before you do anything.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because he is a very wealthy and powerful man,” Stef said seriously. “He is not someone who should be trifled with.”

“You mean he should get a pass on all the shit that he’s done?” I asked, with no small amount of outrage.

“I did not say that,” Stef said, letting his irritation show. “I am saying that if you opted to go after him, it would not be a battle, it would be a war. And as that is the case, we would be wise to make sure we had a sound strategy and a thorough plan.”

I was getting a little pissed, but then I finally got his point. Stef was clearly impressed by Curtis Buck’s power and influence, and that meant he must have a lot of it. “You’re saying that I need to be careful with this guy, because if I piss him off, this isn’t something I can tackle alone.”

“I think that may be an apt summary,” Stef agreed.

“I pretty much decided that I’m not going to do anything unless Travis asks me to get involved or unless I think I have to,” I said. “I’m willing to promise you that if that happens, I’ll talk to you first.”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at me. I opted to change the subject.

“Did you know our phones were being tracked?”

“I spoke to JP about that and told him that I assumed our positions could be fixed, but I did not know there were records of where we had been,” he said.

“I only thought we were tracked if we hit the SWAT key,” I said. “Do you know what the deal was?”

“I cannot say for sure, but only two people have voiced objections to the meeting on Sunday,” he said.

“I’m betting my father was one of them,” I grumbled.

“You are correct,” he said. “He was planning to come down to Malibu later this week, but since this topic came up, he has changed his plans.”

“I scared him away from Southern California,” I joked, making him laugh.

“That appears to be the case,” Stef agreed.

“Who’s the other person who had a problem with it?” I asked.

“Your aunt,” he said.

I stared at him as a wave of comprehension spread over me. “Dad and Claire were using that info to track their kids.”

“I imagine that is what was happening,” Stef said nervously.

“I remember when Dad was talking about JJ and how he seemed to know an awful lot about where JJ had been,” I mused. “Now it makes sense.”

“And how will you handle it?” Stef asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said, even as I thought about it. “I’m seriously pissed off that Dad was probably tracking my every fucking move, but I’m not enraged.”

“I am wondering if you will be able to remain that calm on Sunday,” he said, teasing me.

“I think a lot of that depends on how Dad handles it,” I said. “If he tries to stonewall me or tries to justify this, I’ll probably lose it.”

“I think it will be interesting to see how John and Marie react to this,” Stef said.

“They’ll be pissed,” I said, but I wasn’t really sure how mad they would be.

“It will be interesting to hear the justifications for all of this,” Stef said with a hint of dread.

“I think that we need to make sure that shit like this, like communal things like our phones, is kept completely out of Dad’s hands, and evidently also away from Claire and Jack,” I said.

“What about Jake?” Stef asked.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I am wondering if people will worry that Jake will have a hard time maintaining the privacy of this information based on his relationship with your father,” Stef said.

“I have total confidence that he would,” I said strongly, getting a surprised look from Stef. “But I still don’t think he should be involved.”

“If you have confidence in him, why would that matter?” Stef asked.

“Because it will only create conflict between him and Dad,” I said. “If he wants to know something, and he badgers Jake, it will only piss Jake off.”

Stef smiled gently. “I see your point.”

We got to the event and I walked down the red carpet with Stef, pausing to get my picture taken about a dozen times. It was a pretty slick deal, and since it was sponsored by GM there were some cool cars here. “I think this is a fashion show that Grand would have actually enjoyed,” I told Stef as I looked at a new Cadillac XLR.

“He was being grumpy and refused to leave home,” Stef said, making me chuckle. He stopped to talk to Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore, while I wandered on into the venue.

I spotted Billy Joe Armstrong by the stage talking to Dave Navarro. Carmen Electra was with Dave, looking hot in a slutty kind of way. “Hey,” I said to Billy Joe.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” he said and gave me a man hug. He introduced me to Dave and Carmen, then said “give me a second” to them. He pulled me off to the side. “You going to be around later?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “You can text me.”

“I’ll do that,” he said.

“I have a huge favor to ask,” I said. He just looked at me. “I’m seeing this dude and he’s a huge fan of yours. Can I make one copy of your CD for him?”

“I don’t know,” he said nervously.

“I’ll make him promise to not copy it,” I pledged.

He smiled and nodded. “This one dude, and make sure you don’t let it get out. They’ll kill me if it does.”

“We’ll be careful,” I promised. “What are you doing here?”

“Dave and I are the entertainment,” he said.

“No shit? That is going to be the bomb,” I said excitedly. He winked at me and strutted off, and I smiled at how cocky he was when he was talking about performing.

I went looking for Stef again but instead ran into Paris Hilton. She was wearing this really bright yellow dress with some tropical accents: The whole outfit was basically screaming for attention. She was standing there getting her picture taken with Tara Reid. I wasn’t a big fan of Tara, but I went over to talk to them anyway.

“Willie!” Paris said and gave me a big hug. When that embrace was over, she made me turn and face the cameras, then the photographers snapped a bunch of pictures of me, Paris and Tara. The three of us turned and walked away from the media.

“I don’t appreciate being photo-bombed,” Tara said to me rudely. “I have to guard my reputation.” Paris looked at me and rolled her eyes.

“That’s a fucking riot,” I said to her. “You think being seen with me is going to ruin your reputation? As if.”

“No one knows who you are,” she said with disdain. “Makes it seem like I was taking pictures with strangers in a bar.”

“Right. And you’re such a superstar. Let’s see. You did your two whore movies then afterward your career really took off” I said, referring to American Pie I and II. My voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Since then, your big starring roles have been in Josie and the Pussycats and Van Wilder, both mega-hits.” Both of those movies had been total flops.

“Yeah, well what the fuck have you done?” she demanded a little loudly, since I’d really pissed her off. I ignored her question.

“I forgot about your latest box office smash, My Boss's Daughter. That’s another massive flop. You’re three for three, and Hollywood is just like baseball: three strikes and you’re out. Oh wait! You did get nominated for an award for your amazing performance. You were nominated for Worst Supporting Actress at the 2004 Razzies.”

“Fuck you,” she said, and stormed off.

Paris laughed hysterically. “That was hilarious.” She dragged me over and told Nicole Richie about the encounter, then let me borrow her snuff bullet for a quick bump in the bathroom. I slipped into one of the stalls and did a couple of pulls of coke, then went out to the sink, my main purpose being to make sure that I didn’t have any white powder left on my nose. I solved that problem and was about to walk out when Hayden from Star Wars walked in.

I’d hooked up with Hayden and this dude named Trevor he’d been dating, then later I’d hooked up with him alone. He’d gotten all mad at me for that solo encounter, because evidently the two of them were supposed to be exclusive. I wasn’t the one who’d cheated on my boyfriend, he was, but he’d painted me as a predator, so he and Trevor had decided to hate me. They’d thrown attitude at me every time I ran into them, and even when I was totally down and out after 9-11, they still blew me completely off.

Now that Hayden was alone again, he was acting totally interested in me, checking me out in an obvious way. “Hey Will,” he said in a sexy way.

“Hayden,” I said in a nonchalant way that was almost a dismissal. He walked past me, pausing to look at me and give me his ‘fuck me’ look. He walked over to the handicapped stall in the back, the one that was like a European bathroom with floor to ceiling walls and a door that made it seem like its own room, then turned back toward me and motioned me over with his head.

I sauntered over, checking him out as I did. He was dressed casually, he looked good, and he knew it, only when he was acting cocky, it seemed to come out more as bitchiness than coolness. I walked into the stall and pulled the door closed. “I remember the last time,” he said, trying to be sexy.

I leaned down and started nuzzling his neck and sucking on his earlobe. He leaned his head back and moaned contentedly. I did that for a bit longer, then stopped and faced him so I was looking him straight in the eye. “So do I,” I said coldly, and walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.

I went back and tracked down Paris to give her back her snuff bullet, and saw Hayden across the room giving me a dirty look, which made me chuckle out loud. It felt good to throw some bad karma his way.

Dave and Billie Joe were fantastic. I got totally into their performance and had a blast. The fashion show was pretty fun, with both models and cars on the stage. I tracked down Stef and sat with him. Kim Cattrall strutted out on the runway wearing this dress from Oscar de la Renta that looked hideous. “What do you think of this?” Stef asked me.

“The only thing good about the dress is that it’s better than the one Anne Hathaway wore,” I said.

He chuckled. “They were both a bit underwhelming.”

“I’m spoiled after New York,” I said. “Have you seen Miranda Buck?”

“I have not,” Stef said, and seemed as surprised as I was. I got up and snuck out of the main hall and I almost ran into someone.

“I’m sorry,” I said, then realized I was talking to Travis’s mother. She was tall, slim, and looked very svelte in a gray suit that perfectly matched her eyes. I noticed that her eyes were colder than Travis’s, without that touch of blue that made them look so sexy. Her hair was blond like his, and although it had always been that way, that didn’t mean it was natural.

“That is quite alright,” she said pleasantly, then looked more closely at me. “You are Will!”

“I am,” I said, smiling back at her.

“You have grown into such a handsome young man!” she exclaimed, even as she gave me a hug that was very warm by LA standards. “I feel like I have been deprived, not being able to see you grow up, yet here you are, a young adult.” Her accent was subtle, like Stef’s, but while his residual accent was very French, hers was a mix of German and French.

“And you look the same as you did the last time I saw you,” I said, switching to French. She put her arm in mine and escorted me over to a sitting area.

“You are almost as good at charming women as your older brother. How is he?” she asked. I wanted to laugh, wondering if Darius had nailed her.

“He’s doing great,” I said. “He’s actually here in town, going to UCLA.”

“I will have to try to run into him,” she said. “I have seen a lot of your cousin Zach.”

“I’ll bet,” I said, trying to be upbeat even though I was seriously annoyed with him. “I got to party with him and Taylor a couple of times since I’ve been down here.”

“I heard you were at Big’s party,” she said. “You got to see Curtis.”

“I did,” I said. “Not exactly the highlight of my night.”

She laughed. “Now you know how my life has been for the past 25 years.” I laughed with her. “I am disappointed that we won’t be able to do dinner tonight.”

“We won’t?” I asked, surprised.

“Travis did not call you?”

“No,” I said.

“He phoned me just a half an hour ago and told me he was not feeling well,” she said. “He said he was going to go home and rest.”

“That’s a surprise,” I said, grappling with this new dilemma. “I should give him a call.”

“I was so looking forward to spending time with you and Stefan, but I cannot think you would want to have dinner with two old people,” she said.

“Two old people?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Who else did you invite?”

Her laugh really was delightful. “I will leave you to call Travis.”

I stood up as she did. “It was really nice to see you again.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Based on the way Travis talks about you, I am going to bet I will be seeing more of you in the future.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked with a smile. “What’s he saying about me?”

“I think that he is only now realizing what a void not having you in his life has been,” she said.

“That’s funny,” I said. “I’ve been realizing the same thing.”

“I will go see Stefan and see if he still wants to go to dinner, just the two of us,” she said, then walked away.

I pulled out my phone and noticed there were no calls. Travis had been out of school for three hours at least. I had kind of expected him to get in touch with me. I called his normal cell phone first, but he didn’t answer that, so I called his secret phone. It rang for a while, but when I saw that I had a call on the other line I hung up to answer it. I went to hit the key to take it until I saw that it was Zach, but I so did not want to talk to him. I hit ‘end’ to send the call to voice mail and redialed Travis. “Dude, are you going to just call over and over again until I answer?” he asked, all pissed off.

“I’m sorry,” I said, completely stunned by his reaction. “I had a call on the other line so I hung up, then called you back.”

“Christ,” he said in frustration.

“I did not mean to bug you,” I insisted. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively. “I just had a headache and felt like shit, so I decided to go home and crash.”

“Were you going to call me and tell me?” I asked, a little irritated.

“Yeah, after I got the pain to go away,” he said. “I was waiting for the Tylenol to kick in.”

“Why don’t you come to the hotel and crash there,” I suggested. “I’ll take care of you.” I’d said that last a little suggestively, and could tell he was smiling.

“I really don’t want to leave,” he said. This whole thing was really strange. I could have let him see how much it bothered me that he didn’t want to hang out with me, especially since I wasn’t going to be here all that long, but I sensed that there was something else wrong, something he wasn’t telling me.

“How bad do you want a copy of that Green DayCD?” I asked him in a taunting kind of way.

“Why?” he asked, his interest clearly aroused.

“I talked Billie Joe into stopping by later and bringing you a copy of it, but you’ll probably have to blow him for it,” I said. I didn’t think that if I told him I’d gotten the OK to make him a copy that it would be enough to coax him from his mother’s house.

“Dude, are you serious?” he asked excitedly.

“He’s here performing with Dave Navarro,” I explained. “They were awesome. I managed to tell him you were a huge fan and asked him if you could have a copy.”

“He was okay with that?”

“He was nervous about it, but I vouched for you,” I said. “If it gets out, everyone will be majorly pissed at him. That’s why he’s being so paranoid.”

“You’re pretty persuasive,” he said.

“Besides, then you get to see me,” I joked.

“Now you’re blowing your whole sales pitch,” he teased. “I’ll leave now and meet you at the hotel.”

“Awesome!” I said excitedly. “I’ll let your mom know.”

“Cool,” he said, and ended the call.

The show had ended and people were just mingling with each other. I was fortunate to find Stef talking to Miranda Buck. “Hey,” I said cheerfully. “I talked Travis into hanging out at the hotel with me.”

“I thought he was feeling ill?” Stef asked.

“He’s feeling well enough to drive to Bel Air, and I promised I’d take care of him once he got there,” I said. I made sure that Miranda didn’t hear the double entendre in my comment, but Stef got it and almost laughed. “I told him he could stay over and make his commute to school tomorrow easier.”

“That is very thoughtful of you,” Miranda said.

“I am going to avail myself of your change in plans to enjoy dinner with this delightful lady,” Stef said, offering Miranda his arm.

“Today is certainly my lucky day,” she said. I walked them out of the venue then realized I had no way to get back to the hotel since I’d ridden in the limo with Stef. They were nice enough to drop me off, making small talk on the way.

“I think that I will head back to Palo Alto after this,” Stef said.

“That’s fine,” I said. “I’ll see you after I get back from New York.”

“I am wondering if you would be willing to accompany me to the Met Gala?” he asked. “JP does not want to attend.”

“I would love to escort you,” I said.

“I will plan your outfit,” Stef said. “The theme this year is Dangerous Liaisons, so you will likely end up wearing something that has vestiges of the 18th Century.”

“Can’t be worse than what I wore to that Regency-themed party,” I mused. Miranda pretended not to pay attention to our interchange, even though I knew she was listening intently. The limo pulled up to the hotel, and I gave Stef a warm hug, along with a less exuberant hug for Miranda, then I was finally able to escape back to my room.

I changed into comfortable clothes, then wandered around my room straightening things up a bit. I fired up my computer and used it to burn a copy of the Green Day CD for Travis, then got out my suitcase and started packing up the stuff I wouldn’t need. I was surprised that Travis wasn’t here yet, since it had been over an hour since I’d talked to him at the show. Just as I was starting to get really worried, the doorbell rang.

I hurried over and answered it to find him standing there, and his appearance totally shocked me. He looked really upset, so much that his eyes were tearing up, while based on the way his face looked, it was obvious he’d gotten into a fight. I had a pretty good idea of what had happened, and I was about to fly off the handle in a rage, but I managed to force that reaction aside, even though it was a major struggle. Instead I focused on this guy in front of me who was clearly hurting. “Come on in,” I said gently, closing the door behind him. After I locked it, I turned back to him and enveloped him in a big hug, letting him cling to me and cry on my shoulder.

Copyright © 2020 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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