Safe 5

Chapter 5

Justin had been sitting on the sofa, sprawled, when Lynn came in to
the apartment. "Hey, little boy, what's up?"

His expression was so pitiful that she immediately sat and began
rubbing his back, "My God, Justin, what happened?"

"That guy Lance? He offered me a job—modeling." Lynn frowned,
wondering why he didn't sound a little happier. "I pissed him off
and he stormed out of here."

"How did you piss him off?"

Justin reluctantly repeated the story, ending with, "I was scared,
Lynn, that he's just like all the others. I wanted you guys here so
bad, to tell me what I should do."

Lynn was kicking herself for leaving him alone. "Poor baby. Life is
so hard for you." She pulled him close and let him cry. This was the
only time he felt really safe letting his feelings out and he cried
for a long time. Eventually, he wound down into sniffles and she
felt his body relax. She stroked his back and moved him away.

He sighed, a long breath, and said, "JC was here. He ran out after
him but he isn't back so I guess....."

The door opened and JC and Lance walked in. Justin froze, somewhere
between child and porn star. He tried to read Lance's expression but
it was carefully neutral. JC motioned to a chair and Lance sat down.

JC started the conversation, "Lance still wants you to model for him
and me, too." His smile reassured Justin. Justin didn't trust
himself to speak, so he merely nodded. Lance's face shifted subtly
as he tried to hide his annoyance and Justin cringed.

"Thank you," he forced out in a soft whisper. Lance bit his lip.

"I'm not trying to force you, Justin. You don't *have* to do this."
It came out harshly and JC put his hand on Lance's arm. "Sorry,"
Lance continued, "I guess I am really having a hard time
understanding your reaction. Most people would jump at this chance."

Justin just stared. How could he begin to explain what he was
feeling in a way that would still keep Lance out. There was no way
he would let Lance see how afraid he was of him, not the job, him.

He tried to pull the tattered remains of his street persona around
him. "I'm sorry if you don't understand and I'm sorry if I
misunderstood, but I'll be damned if I'm going to beg you for this
job. Want me to strip and fuck you in exchange? Fine."

JC jumped in before Lance could speak, "Justin, stop."

"What, JC?" he said, his voice with that arrogant tone Lance
recognized from before. Lance rose and started for the door.

"Wait, Lance," JC begged, anxious to make peace. Lance hesitated but
when he saw the cocky look on Justin's face, he shook his head and
walked out. JC ran after him and grabbed his arm.

"Lance, let me talk to him for a few minutes. If I can't get him to
listen, then we can say goodbye right here. Just give me a few.
Please?"

"I'll be at the coffee shop for a while. JC, he can't pull this shit
at photo shoots. No one will be as patient as I'm being." JC nodded,
knowing what Lance was saying, and wanting to talk to him but also
needing to get back inside to Justin.

"Lance, please. I'll be down in a couple of minutes." He watched
Lance leave, praying that he could accomplish the seemingly
impossible.

Justin had reverted, as JC knew he would, to the terrified child. He
sat on the sofa, watching JC with wide, scared eyes, waiting for a
verbal beating. JC just sighed and sat down opposite him.

"J, what's going on? Every time Lance gets within ten feet of you,
you go all hooker on him. He's not one of *them*."

"How do you know that?" Justin whispered. His mind cast back to the
myriad of men he had been with, none of them seeming like *that*, not
until he was alone with them, trapped. "They all *seemed* nice too,
JC."

"He's offering us a real job, a contract, not sex. If he doesn't
come through next week, then it's adios. No harm, no foul."

"It *is* sex, JC. I can feel his want from across the room," Justin
replied quietly.

JC stared. He should have known. Justin had been hooking too long
not to recognize desire when it was there. No wonder the poor kid
was scared. All kinds of frightening scenarios were probably racing
around in his head.

JC let out a long breath. "I'd be lying if I said that wasn't true,
but that doesn't mean he wants to hurt you."

Justin was on the edge of tears again. "But how do you know? *I*
never do. Not until it's too late."

"I *don't* know. I just know he's not like them. He seems for real—
the job offer and all." When Justin nodded, JC continued, "But *you*
have to stop the street kid shit. Let him see the real Justin, the
one Lynn and I know."

Justin shook his head wildly. He couldn't expose himself that way.
He didn't really know this guy and if he ever had that weapon to use
against Justin, then what?

"Jus, you only have two faces. Unless you can come up with a third
in the next while. If you keep that arrogant, come-on face, he'll be
history."

"Maybe that's a good idea. *You* take the job and I'll just..."

"Stay and sell yourself to every sadist in Chicago? No way. My God,
Justin, is it that hard, to just be yourself?"

"It's not hard. It's scary. I'm afraid of him."

"Has he done anything....," JC began and Justin jumped to his feet
and started pacing.

"No, that's the point. He seems ok. He seems better than ok. He
seems like a guy I could be with, for real. But, what if he's not
and he knows where all my hurts are? Then what, JC?"

"Then you get hurt again, baby," JC said sadly.

"Exactly," he cried and then his shoulders drooped and he sat down,
his head in his hands. "I can't do this."

"If you keep prostituting yourself, you'll have to keep getting hurt
until there's none of the real Justin left. This way, maybe there's
a chance." JC used his most calming voice, speaking the words in a
soothing tone.

JC continued, "What if he is a good guy, what if this model thing
works out, what if wonderful things happen to you?"

Justin looked at him with something akin to incredulity. The thought
that good things might happen had never crossed his mind. Now that
it had, he was working hard to dismiss such a ridiculous idea.

Being the friend he was, JC could read his thoughts. "Don't do that,
Jus. Let the good be a possibility."

Justin leaned back and closed his eyes. *Good*, such a foreign idea
for the last year. Maybe. He sat up and looked at JC, "I'll try."

"OK. Now I have to go talk to Lance and then I'm bringing him back
here. No street boy shit. Hear me?"

"I hear you. I said I'll try." JC scowled but decided it was the
best he could hope for at the moment.

JC found Lance frowning into a cup of coffee. He slid in opposite
and waited until Lance looked up, "Well?"

"He's going to try, Lance."

"Try what?"

"Try not letting the street kid run the show." JC debated what to say
next. It would be a betrayal to lay out all of Justin's insecurities
to this man but without giving him some insight, none of this made
sense. Lance waited expectantly, caught between the rejected white
knight and the hopeful suitor.

"I know how hard it is for you to understand him, hell, us. It's not
safe for us to drop the mask and it's our retreat when we get scared."

"He's scared of modeling? When he sells his body for real every
night?" Lance asked, a look of disbelief evident.

JC couldn't tell him that Justin was scared of him. That was
Justin's to tell. So he let Lance think that was it and hoped that
the issues didn't get any muddier than they already were. "Ummm,
yeah, sounds crazy, huh? But then after a while doing this, crazy
things seem normal."

"What about you?" Lance shifted the subject abruptly.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you aren't anything like him. You seem almost, comfortable,
with this whole gig." Lance blushed, hoping he wasn't insulting his
only ally.

"Comfortable?" JC snorted. "That's not a word I would use to
describe myself. Accepting, resigned, hopeless. Guess they look
like comfortable to you."

"I apologize. I just....I meant....I ...um...was just comparing you
to Justin."

"Justin started at 19, I was 22. Those years make a big difference.
He got thrown out, I left. I have street smarts, he doesn't. He
still doesn't have enough, even after a year." JC wanted to add that
Justin was terrified of the world and he wasn't but it was back to
that too much information game he was playing.

"Ummm, yeah," Lance said and for a moment, he was lost in thought.
JC looked at him questioningly and then Lance shook it off and came
back.

"Anyhow, to answer your question, I've done this for four years. I
hate every minute, but I'm damned good at it and it pays some of the
bills. We rent a room or stay in a shelter when it's too cold to
stay outside, stay warm, eat, the essentials. Justin usually skips
the eating part unless Lynn sneaks it to him because he won't let me
pay for more than half and he doesn't make as much."

"Why doesn't he? He's gorgeous," Lance said, blushing again,
realizing his desire was blatant.

"You'll have to ask him," JC said.

"As if I'll ever get that friendly," Lance scoffed.

"So can we try again?" JC asked, a note of anxiety clear.

Lance sat back. "Let me come by tomorrow, after work."

JC bit his lip, afraid that they would never see Lance again. Lance
realized it and said, "I promise. I'll be back. Will he still be at
Lynn's?"

"I hope so. Never know with Justin."

"Keep him out of trouble. Those bruises need to be gone, not
replaced. So where can I find you if I can't find him?"

JC was ashamed for the first time in a long while, "On the corner.
If not, I'll be back shortly."

They shook hands and JC went back to Lynn's. Justin looked up
expectantly when the door opened, but his face dropped when he
realized JC was alone. He was so torn. He wanted out of this life,
he wanted someone to love, but he would have to take risks, the kind
that hurt your soul more than your body and he was terrified.

"I fucked it up, didn't I?" Justin said.

"No, he just needed to go. But, baby, he doesn't understand you and
it makes it hard for him to get the picture."

"What did you tell him?" Justin asked suspiciously.

"Nothing much. Just that you were going to try to keep the street
kid on a tight leash."

Justin thought about that and wondered how the hell he could pull
that off. He was glad he didn't have to deal with it tonight. "I'm
hungry. Let's go find Lynn."

JC was relieved to drop the subject of Lance. "Sure, let's go. I
got about an hour before it's showtime."

"I should be out there," Justin said quietly, knowing they would need
a room now that it was so cold.

"You can't be," JC said, upset that Justin would even consider
it. "You gotta get better. Promise me you'll come back here after
we eat."

Justin crossed his heart, "Yeah, whatever."

Lance went looking for Joey. He had never thought of his older
friend as a relationship expert, particularly given his checkered
track record, but he had made sense yesterday. And he had some more
questions. He couldn't remember if this was Joey's day off but he
took a chance and poked his head into the bar.

Joey was behind the polished expanse, schmoozing some customer, a
young blond guy who looked too sweet to be here. Lance pulled out a
stool and sat. Joey cocked an eyebrow and checked his watch before
moving down the bar toward Lance.

"Hey you, given up work? That's two days in a row," he said.

"No, I *have* been working, in a way. I found Justin and Jenna
bought the idea and the kid and his friend will have a contract in
about a week."

"So, this is a social visit?" Joey said with a grin.

"No. Put your Ann Landers hat back on." Joey mimed putting on a hat
and waited with a smile. Lance frowned, "This is serious, Joe."

Joey dropped the smile down a few notches. "OK, shoot. Let me
guess. This is about your having the hots for this kid. What's the
matter? He not interested. Already has a boyfriend, doesn't like
blonds?"

"Shut up for a minute, will you? Shit, what did I come here for?"

Joey was suddenly dead serious, "Because I'm your best friend and you
know I'll help if I can."
Luckily, the bar was empty at this hour except for Brian, who seemed
content to study the bottom of his glass through the brown liquid.

Lance sighed, "I should give up on him right now, this minute. He is
so fucking insecure, he makes me look like an egomaniac. So he deals
with it by coming across as an arrogant, cocky prick."

"But underneath Joey, underneath is a frightened kid. That's the one
I have the `hots' for as you so eloquently described it."

"So when do I get to vet him? Remember? I give you the skinny on
them so you don't get fucked over again?"

Lance sighed, "This one is different. He *is* me."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I realized today that Justin hides the little boy, the scared one,
behind a facade 99% of the time. The facade fools people and they
react to it instead of the real person. That was me with AJ and the
others before him. I'm insecure, unsure, and need to be protected,
so I pretend I'm not that guy. The AJ-type isn't attracted to that
guy, so the real Lance gets the heave-ho. Make sense?

Joey scratched his head, "No, that was fucking complicated. So how
does this Justin guy fit in here?"

"Justin's afraid that the real Justin will be hurt— badly. So he
covers with this cocky asshole. And I keep responding to the asshole
and forgetting that the real Justin is under there somewhere."

"Uh-huh.," Joey responded.

"So how do I get the real Justin to come out and play," Lance asked
with a giggle.

"Keep knocking? Don't let him slam the door in your face, " Joey
said with a triumphant smile.

"Ummm, OK. *That's* helpful, Joe."

Joey thought again, "Can you *not* respond to the cocky guy? Can you
make him feel safe? He expects to get hurt."

Lance sighed. It seemed so simple. But that boy pushed buttons Lance
didn't even know he had. "I'm gonna try, Joe, but ...."

Joe smiled, "That's all you can do. Now, just in case, move down a
few seats and meet my new friend Brian. A back-up, you know?"

Lance shook his head but he moved down and while Brian had nothing on
Justin, it was a pleasant way to spend the evening and so much less
complicated.

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