| Chapter 16 The weekend was followed inexorably by Monday morning and everyone was nervous. Much to James's dismay, JC had arrived Saturday night, or rather Sunday morning, and was invited to occupy a spot on the floor. Actually, it had been Joey who had done the inviting. JC had arrived at the bar after Lance and Justin left and closed the bar with Joey, talking and laughing and cementing the beginnings of a friendship. Joey had made it clear that he was not "that way" but that Lance was his best friend and he didn't have any problems with anyone who *was* "that way". JC had laughed and promised not to hit on Joey, a wry smile on his face. When Joey sniffed at the implied idea that JC might not be interested, they both burst out laughing and any lingering tension was gone. Sunday was as relaxed a day as it could be with the five of them packed into a one bedroom apartment and the anxiety related to the shoot was put on the back burner. At dawn on Monday, it came rushing back, and Justin woke up, soaked with sweat, the product of a dream he couldn't remember. He inched closer to Lance, seeking comfort. Lance was still sleeping, his blond hair mussed and the gorgeous green eyes hidden. It was early and Justin didn't have the heart to wake him, but he wished desperately that Lance would do it on his own. As if in answer, Lance stretched and opened his eyes, meeting the pleading blue ones dead on. "What, baby?" Lance asked, the concern clear. "Tell me this will work out, this modeling thing." "It *will* work out. You two are perfect and you'll learn what you need to learn, I'm sure." He pulled Justin to him and comforted him, allowing his strength to flow into the younger boy. He didn't voice his own fears, just let them simmer under the surface. Lance gazed at Justin. The streetboy had not appeared in days but he knew damn well that he wasn't gone and at the first sign of danger, he would stick his arrogant little nose out and make a mess of things. Now that Jenna knew, she would be watching Justin and JC like a hawk, waiting for any missteps that would be fatal for this campaign. They dozed on and off for a little while and jumped when the alarm went off. They giggled and kissed and Lance went to orchestrate four of them using the facilities. Miraculously, it all came together and all four were ready to leave on time. Joey had tried to shut them up without success and as they were leaving, he wished them luck. They were all meeting at Jeff's studio for some initial shots. He had the rep of training young models well and having the patience to deal with their insecurities and screwups. Lance greeted him, then saw Jenna standing to the side, staring at them, an undercurrent of mistrust that hadn't been there previously. JC was made for this, Lance thought. He seemed to be off in another world most of the time so that he didn't focus on whether this would be difficult or not. His anxiety was mostly related to Justin's, the osmosis of the younger boy's fear infecting him. But even anxious, JC just looked a little more spacey, a little more ethereal. Justin, on the other hand, was a wreck. He felt that all of their hopes and dreams were resting on whether he could do this and it terrified him. As a result, he was unable to relax enough to appear anything but a rigid mass of muscles. Jeff studied them and laughed, "This kid could use some drugs." "No," Justin said sharply. Drugs had been used too often on him, to "help you relax, baby". "Just kidding, kid, Justin is it?" Jeff said, eying him cautiously. Lance moved closer and laid a reassuring hand on his back and was relieved when he felt the slightest release under his hand. "Yes, Justin and JC," Lance said. He could feel the tension in the room and prayed for some way to diffuse it. Justin continued to stand, rigid for some reason that Lance couldn't fathom. JC slouched on the sofa and waited for someone to say something. "OK, boys, let's go. On with the clothes, " Jeff said and began preparing his cameras. Lance waved to a rack on the side, filled with a multitude of choices. "Pick something you like," Lance laughed. JC jumped up and like a kid at Christmas, looked through the various outfits, selecting and subsequently rejecting one after the other. Justin, on the other hand, remained still, not moving toward the rack at all. "Jus, c'mon," Lance urged. When he still didn't move, Jenna strode over. "Time is money, kid, let's go," she snapped. Lance winced, knowing the anger was directed at him and tried to smoothe everything over, handing Justin the first thing he grabbed off the rack. Justin looked at it and shrugged. "Where do we change?" "Here, of course. No wasting time running back and forth. Dress, click, undress, dress again. Simple really," Jenna said, sarcasm dripping. Justin had tensed at her first words. He couldn't undress here. Even though he'd undressed in front of johns hundreds of times, this was supposed to be different. Lance had said it was different. Why the fuck did it feel the same? Justin's body was shrilling with panic, caught in some weird place that he didn't recognize, not on the corner yet on the corner, just like always He managed to close his eyes and dress quickly, sighing with relief when he was clothed. But when the stylist came over and began to pull and tug everything into place, touching him in all the wrong places, his breathing shortened into pants. By this time, both Jeff and JC were finished and waiting, JC holding his breath and Jeff preparing to deliver his new model speech. He started softly, "I'm sure this is difficult for you, stripping in front of strangers, but just pretend you're a mannequin, something to make the clothes look good. Because the truth is, that's the deal. You're the living version, and people will pay to get clothes that will make them look like you. Now, isn't that a compliment?" Justin's head filled with other men, other speeches, speeches about how lucky Justin was that he had been chosen. From all the boys and men on the corner, he was the fortunate one, the one that would pocket the cash for getting fucked. How lucky. Jeff's voice seemed far away, too far away to hear, so Justin stood with a blank look that Jenna correctly interpreted. She hissed at Lance, "Take him out for a few minutes and straighten him up. Lance took Justin's arm and dragged him out and into the nearest empty room, slamming the door behind them. Justin looked startled and glanced around, curious how he got there. "Justin, babe, you gotta pull it together," Lance pleaded. He moved to embrace the younger boy, but Justin stepped back, a cornered animal. Lance's eyes darkened with the anger he was trying to keep under control, "What the fuck?" "You said it was different," Justin whispered. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" "You said modeling was different from the corner. It's not. It's the same." Lance ran his hands through his hair, "Jesus, Justin, it's not. All they asked you to do was dress in some A&F ripoffs and wiggle your ass in front of a camera. It's not prostitution." He fairly yelled the last and regretted it when he saw Justin cringe. "Sorry, Jus, sorry. It's just that..." Justin took a deep breath and said, "Fine. Fuck off, Lance." Lance didn't feel bad, just relieved and the streetboy appearance didn't even bother him. Amazingly, the streetboy went back into hiding and Justin kept it together. It was a long day but Jeff was patient and went at a snail's pace for Justin's sake. At the end of the day, he sent the two models off to shower and dress and came over to Lance and Jenna. "This will take a hell of a lot longer than two weeks at this rate and unless there's a miracle, I doubt Justin will be ready for a runway show in three weeks." "Shit, fuck, damn," Jenna spewed. Lance looked embarrassed and Jeff laughed. "Well, I'll leave you two to the fun stuff. See you in the morning. Drop some Valium in his Cheerios, will you?" Jenna and Lance faced off. "Not a bad idea, Lance," Jenna said, forcing out every word. "C'mon, Jenna, cut him some slack. It's only the first day." "It's JC's first day, too." "Justin's not JC." "No shit." "You wouldn't be this tough if you weren't pissed at me for lying. Don't take it out on him. Please." "Fuck off, Lance. Get him on track— soon. Valium, liquor, sex, whatever it takes." Lance turned and walked out, thinking that those three things were probably the least helpful solutions. He waited for them in the hall, pacing, wondering what he *was* going to do. They came out a few minutes later, JC smiling and Justin with a slight hint of one trying to make an appearance. He looked ashamed when he saw Lance and went over, "Lance, I'm sorry. I tried, really. Lance sighed, "It's ok, baby, it'll get better. Dinner, guys?" The other two nodded and they stopped on the way and picked up Chinese food. When they opened the door, Lance frowned at the bags in the entryway. "Shit. Just what I need." James appeared, a sour face that told the story but Lance felt that he had to ask anyway. "James?" "You don't need me anymore to cover the rent and it's a little too crowded for my taste. I'm sick of taking your messages anyhow." "James, don't be like that," Lance coaxed. "Fuck off, Lance." Lance mused that this was becoming the phrase of the day. "Well, call me when you've calmed down and we'll talk." "Uh-huh," James agreed and frankly, at that moment, Lance couldn't give a rat's ass whether he ever heard from him again. So he just held the door open and watched James leave. They ate in silence, JC nearly nodding off into his food. Lance laughed at the sight and shoved JC in the direction of James's alcove. "Take it for tonight. Joey won't care and we'll work out the details tomorrow." It appeared that de facto, JC had moved in. Justin and Lance went to their own room and were under the blankets in minutes. The tension was palpable, but neither was willing to broach the topic that lay between them. Instead, they worried separately. Lance had no clue how to resolve this. He couldn't *make* Justin feel good enough about himself to enjoy this or forget the johns long enough to stop the comparisons. He said a few prayers himself that night, asking for an overnight miracle. Justin huddled into a ball, berating himself for his reaction, swearing to do better and seeking God's help before falling into a restless sleep. He had horrible dreams of johns chasing and catching him, being dragged into some filthy place and fucked painfully while a crowd of onlookers cheered. He awoke with a start, little hitched breaths and small sobs filling the air. Lance jumped up and reached for him, pulling him close, and murmuring comforting words, not even sure what had happened. When he finally felt Justin's body begin to relax, he whispered, "What happened, Justin?" "A nightmare. But it felt so real. So horrible," he said , his voice catching on the words. "It's over. Go back to sleep," Lance said. Justin tried but it was a long time and the fear about the next day chased him way into the night, long after he heard Lance's breathing even out into the rhythms of sleep. He was tired the next morning and wired again as they prepared to leave. Lance took him aside. "Justin, it's a job. A real job. No one wants to hurt you. Try to keep that in mind today. Can you do that?" "I hope so," Justin said, promising nothing. It was only slightly better, Justin tense and tight, his smile forced. Jeff's soothing voice only seemed to heighten his anxiety until he was breathing hard, the fear obvious on his face. They broke several times and JC and Lance took turns calming the younger boy with no success. Jenna stormed over before Lance could intervene. "Listen, Justin, get it together or you're finished." Justin stared at her, the words meaningless. At that moment, all he wanted to do was run, as far away from here as possible. He turned on his heel and left the room without a word. Lance gave chase and caught him, "Justin, wait. Come back." Justin stopped and turned, "I can't do it, Lance, I can't." Lance stared openmouthed. He had never expected that— a flat statement. "Justin, you can't mean that." "I do. I can't do it." Lance bit his lip, "There's got to be something we can do. Wait. That guy, a friend of Joey's over at State, Chris something or other. He's a therapist. Maybe talk to him." "And be cured after lunch?" Justin snorted. "Besides, maybe I don't want to be cured. Maybe I just want to go back to my old life." The streetboy was there, defending the real Justin, trying to make him safe, but with limited success. And now that Lance's safety was in jeopardy as well, he wasn't in any position to help Justin. His own fear was overwhelming him. Thoughts about Jenna and Jeff and the client all swirled and he was losing it. He tried one last time. "Please, Justin, that Serenity Prayer. One step at a time, baby." "No," Justin shouted and ran out the door, leaving it all behind. Lance was stunned into inaction. By the time he gave chase, he caught up only to have the elevator door shut in his face and as he hit the lobby, he knew Justin was long gone. He couldn't follow. He needed to explain upstairs first so he headed back, dread curling in his gut. He had sworn to Jen that it would be ok. Now it was this huge disaster and they were in for it. He signaled to Jen to step out and the look on his face told her everything she needed to know. "He's history, isn't he?" Lance nodded. He could see her counting to ten and then starting over. When she finally spoke, it was to spit out the words through clenched teeth. "I am going to go back to the office and call the client and tell them the biggest lie I can think of about Justin's `health'. You are going to go back in there and tell Jeff the truth and swear him to silence and if you leave to go find your boy, you will follow him out the door. Clear?" "Jen, please, you don't know him. I need to go after him now." "Him or the job, Lance. I laid mine on the line for this, but it stops here. We're not running a social work agency. This shoot cost a fortune and the entire campaign has to be reworked around JC— if the client is agreeable and that is a huge `if.' I need someone whose priority is this campaign not pathetic hookers." Lance was frozen. "Lunch, Jen, give me an hour, please." Jenna hesitated. In the six months he had been her assistant, he had proved he had what it took to be a great ad man. But since Justin had come into his life, he had been making decisions with his heart, or dick she thought, and their world had been turned upside down. "Why the fuck am I doing this?" she wondered out loud. "Lunch. No more. Go tell them we're stopping for lunch. And Lance?" His look of relief was replaced by concern, "Yeah." "I don't want him back. Get it?" Lance nodded and turned away, anxious to go find Justin. Jeff wasn't surprised, just curious about how the campaign would be shot. The storyboards were useless. Lance assured him they would continue after lunch and prayed that Jenna could sweet talk the client into giving JC a try at least. He was photogenic as hell and maybe the otherworldly look would work just as well. Meanwhile, he and JC raced for a taxi, listing the possible places where Justin would head. With the meter running, they tried all of them until the corner was the only one left. No one had seen him. Lance pulled on his spikes, "Are you sure?" "Hey, man, we worked with the guy for a year. We'd know if we seen him. His buddy has been around though, sniffing for him," sneered Morgan. Lance felt his stomach clench. They were out of options. He looked at his watch and told JC that they had to get back. JC balked, wanting to stay and wait, sure that Justin would show here eventually. "What if he doesn't? Then we're all out of jobs and no closer to him. He'd want you to keep working, JC, I know that much." It was a silent trip back, each wondering if this decision was the right one. JC loved his friend but Lance was right. Justin would kill himself if he thought JC lost the job because of him. As it was, there were no guarantees. Lance had filled him in on the ride over here and now they just had to wait and see. Lance seesawed back and forth. He loved Justin but he wasn't sure he was ready to sacrifice everything he had worked for to save Justin from himself. One minute he thought yes and then no, back and forth, and no firm answer even as they headed into Jeff's studio. Jenna looked pointedly at her watch, noting that they were five minutes late. "Well?" "We couldn't find him." She ignored their sad faces and turned to business, "Well, I talked to the client and they are willing to give JC a try with it. Jeff and I have been talking. We'll do the window one with JC alone, the original idea. Then tonight, Lance, you rework the storyboards to be one guy instead of two." "Tonight?" Lance croaked. He had planned on scouring the streets for Justin tonight. "I can't, Jenna. I have to find him." "Then go find him now. You're fired." continue menu |