Part 27 (2/2)

I got the details about the press conference from James later. He didn't come in until nearly ten o'clock and he was ravenous. So was I and he chided me for not getting something for myself earlier. But I had gotten sucked into rereading my thesis and marking it up with revision notes anyway. It had been forever since I'd read it, and parts of it now were very obviously weak and in need of shoring up. But having spent the entire summer looking at and talking about the paintings hanging in the special exhibit at the Tate, I found myself easily tossing out whole sections and making notes for what to fill them in with.

Now wasn't the time for art a.n.a.lysis, though. Now I wanted to find out what happened with Ben and Pascual. ”Well? What did you learn on your car ride?”

”I will have to tell you later,” he said, making a gesture like he was still worried the room had ears. I knew Ty had checked it only a short time ago but I also knew this was one thing we really didn't want Ferrara to get wind of. ”I can tell you that I've made some plans for our counteroffensive, though.”

Our video, I a.s.sumed. ”I talked to Becky, Paul, and Misha earlier. Becks will be here tomorrow, she said.”

”Yes, I talked to her myself earlier today. She's quite sharp, your roommate! I'm impressed. I put all kinds of references and things into the songs and the music but I never expect anyone to actually get it.”

I laughed in amus.e.m.e.nt. I don't think he quite understood that there were millions of fans out there a.n.a.lyzing his every word, every breath, on hundreds of websites, forums, and chat rooms all across the world. But Becky was quite sharp, too. ”Just don't get her started on Foucault or you'll be talking all night.”

”You don't like Foucault?”

”I like him just fine. You can't study art in the postmodern era without him. That's why Becky and I talked about him all night one night.”

Of course, that meant that James and I stayed up late talking about art. Not too many men could keep up with me on the subject, but James had no trouble, and we ended the night with some artistic fun of our own.

Things got very very busy after that, as the night of the debut was only a few short weeks away, and there was still so much to learn, sets to be built, costumes to be made, et cetera. Rehearsal hours doubled, and for James they tripled since he was also rehearsing the songs with the band at some music studio a mile away. He and the band did most of their work in the evenings-as he put it, rock musicians were not morning people-leaving me some time to see the Vegas sights with Becky and to work on my thesis.

And yet, in spite of all that, he still found the energy to play games with me, tying me, spanking me, sometimes f.u.c.king me to the edge of o.r.g.a.s.m for both of us in the morning and then making us both wait until night to finish.

We had special fittings for a Peter-Pan-style flying rig that would allow both of us to fly together, as if joined in a somewhat suggestive pose. We tested it extensively as well as practicing how to get into it quickly. Leading up to the moment in the show when we would take off over the audience, Ben and Annika would briefly replace us on the stage. Because of lights and smoke no one would likely be the wiser that for those thirty seconds or so we were actually inside the set, getting the flying rig on, and then whoosh, out we would come as part of another switcheroo. I'd be on the bottom, with him on top. When we practiced it, the pose put his dance-belted c.o.c.k right in the crack of my a.s.s.

Becky was fairly busy, too, interviewing Alicia, Chandra, and the dancers about their interpretations of various works. Chandra got a bright idea then, as well, following on James's that we might have to release some videos of our own. She got Becky to interview various women, me included, about our thoughts on the bondage theme, and about James's statement that consensuality and mutual respect were empowering. I didn't feel like much of an expert on the subject, and I didn't want to talk much about our private life, but I could definitely see how it would be helpful to spread these videos around later, to undo any damage that the ”rape tape” (as the ravishment video was being called) might have spread.

And Becky and I finally got to go shoe shopping, this time with no budget restrictions. I thought she was going to die of ecstasy. Amusingly enough, after trying on twenty pairs of shoes at three different insanely expensive designer stores, what she ended up buying was a Gucci scarf. She wore it everywhere, so I guess she really liked it.

In the midst of this, Ferrara released two more videos. One was another ravishment tape, only this time it had herself as the victim, and again the face of the man was obscured, this time by an elaborate carnival-style mask over his eyes. Snippets of James's voice were interposed at various points where his mouth was not shown, but it was overall smoothly done. Ferrara's face, of course, was huge, right in the camera. Her crying on camera was nowhere near as convincing as Vanette's had been, though. James brushed it off. It continued to play into his plans to create a publicity frenzy.

The next video she put out a few days after that, though, incensed him. It was a music video, using the music from Bride of the Blue, that began with some snippets of the Vanette ravishment video, then had some of the more recent one with Ferrara, this one making it look more like it was as if the couple in the wedding video had made a s.e.x tape that had gone wrong, with more footage of him tearing her clothes and her trying to push him away, and then toward the end, some footage that made my hair stand on end, too.

It was us, James and me, in bed. And it looked bad. It looked like I was struggling and shouting ”no, no.” He threatened to f.u.c.k me in the a.s.s and I continued to shout ”no.”

We were watching it on my laptop in the suite. James stood abruptly and went to stand at the edge of the bed, staring at the spot where it had been filmed. ”When did they get that? When was that?”

”I'm trying to think. When was the last time you teased me about f.u.c.king me in the a.s.s?” I backed up the video and watched it again. ”d.a.m.n it. I'm actually struggling to get your c.o.c.k into me here, but in the context of the other footage, it sure doesn't look that way.”

He turned and stared at the media center shelf. ”The camera vantage is from here.”

”And a good thing, too, so your face doesn't show.” I moved to stand next to him and it dawned on me. ”Phil. The night he snuck in here dressed as a waiter. He must have taken the camera when he came in.”

James pointed to the books. ”Yes. You're right. Remember when I signed the room service check? He had me lean on a book, which I thought was odd since the folder was adequate enough for that. But that's it. He ran off with the book. It wasn't a book. It was a camera.” He cursed loudly.

”Well,” I teased, ”we were planning to put out a film clip featuring me of some kind, weren't we?”

He sat on the edge of the bed. ”True. But I do hate having choices taken away from us. From you especially.”

”It's all right, James.” I sat next to him. ”Don't let it bother you. That's what she wants. Does this mean we don't need to do a tape of our own?”

”We might not,” he admitted. ”The press gala is coming up, though. Did I tell you Mand.i.n.ka is going to come in to do hair and makeup for it?”

”For you?”

”And you. And more important, Ben and Pascual, so that the two of them and me will be perfect matches. But we were speaking about me doing something wicked to you.”

”On video?”

”At the press gala. I was thinking of making you into a kind of centerpiece of bondage art. What do you think about that?”

”I think that would be a great way to avoid having to make awkward c.o.c.ktail party talk.”

The next day, Ferrara got even more impatient and desperate. She e-mailed me herself, though from an anonymous account, of course.

A different edit of the video of me and James having very rough s.e.x was attached to the e-mail. The message read: The first thing that will happen if you don't help us is that this video will be sent to your mother.

You will threaten to drop out of the show if he doesn't meet our demands.

If he refuses, then you will drop out of the show. If you do not, the second thing that will happen is we will send you back a tape of this happening to your mother. Do you understand? We know where she lives.

I don't know what Ferrara was thinking. Did she really, seriously think she could blackmail me into betraying James? She'd already tried to play on my worst fear, and failed. I showed him the e-mail immediately.

He sighed. ”Call your mother. Invite her here. Free vacation on me. I'm having my own mother come here, too. It's long past time when I should have told my mother about what I do. I'll feel better when they're in our security's hands.”

I had to agree with him there. ”So you're going to come out to your mother.”

He smiled. ”Yes. 'Mom, I have something to tell you. I've been hiding it from you all these years.' 'What, son? Are you gay?' 'No, Mom, I'm a rock star.' ” He sighed. ”Honestly, I can't imagine she's going to have a problem with it now. When I first started keeping the secret from her, she was having terrible empty-nest syndrome, clinging to me fiercely and the only thing I could think of was I had to get away. I didn't want to seem like I was anything less than a dutiful son, though. So I rebelled... but I didn't tell her. It seems rather stupid now.”

”I wonder if my mother will be cool with it, too, or if she'll flip back to being the judgmental person who drove me crazy ever since I got old enough to date.” I held out hope that she'd be accepting, but I figured if not, our rapport was nice while it lasted. I hadn't ever really expected her to approve of my life choices, so if we went back to that, well, I'd live with it.

Sixteen.

As Long as There's Fire My conversation with my mother went something like this. ”Mom, you know that show in Las Vegas I was telling you about? James and I would like you to come to here to be with us while we work on it.”

”Oh?”

”Yes. We've got a whole floor of a hotel to ourselves, and we'd love if you could join us.”

”You didn't tell me James was involved in the dance show, too. Is he a financial backer?”

”Yes. James is inviting his mother, too.”

”Oh! Oh, well, I should definitely come, then!”

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