Chapter 7 Lance had spent a long night, tossing and turning, thoughts of Justin chasing him in circles.  He wanted to be with him but he wanted a simple relationship, two things that were mutually exclusive.  Justin was already as complicated as anyone Lance had ever known.  Loving him would be work and a risk, a risk of getting hurt once again when the street boy turned model realized that Lance was just too boring for him. He sighed and turned over once again, glancing at the clock and groaning at the late hour.  He wanted to push that beautiful boy out of his thoughts, but every time he did, Justin jumped back in, demanding his attention. By the time the alarm rang, Lance was wrung out and not looking forward to work at all.  He had finally gotten to sleep by focusing on Brian, that sweet thing at the bar, who Lance thought was even duller than himself.  That had definitely put him to sleep and Justin must have been pissed because he didn't even appear in his dreams. He dragged himself into work and was greeted by a skeptical Jenna.  "I thought you were going to `rest' yesterday afternoon. What happened?" "Nothing important," he lied, "Just sorting out some stuff." "You'd better be ready to bust your ass.  We need these storyboards. They loved his look and were disappointed they couldn't meet him. This better work, Lance, or you and I will be looking for new jobs." Lance sighed to himself and crossed his fingers beneath the table, " It'll work, Jenna.  He is a little rough though, not professional, remember?" "Oh yeah, what *does* he do?" "Customer service.  Both of them actually." "And they went to Europe on vacation?  Better pay than I thought." "Yeah," Lance answered weakly.  What was that saying of his mother's?  What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.  Lance rubbed his forehead, determined not to dig the hole any deeper.  "Ready to start?" "Sure.  What are your ideas?" For the next few hours, they hashed out several ideas and came up with three that they would develop over the next few days.  Justin lonely on the beach until the dream girl arrives.  Justin waiting anxiously for a girl who is apparently late, wearing their clothes *and* looking in a store window at a display of the line.  Justin debating what to wear from several outfits, the girlfriend's picture featured prominently. Lance argued about the photo saying that the girls who would influence the boyfriends' purchase would rather imagine themselves there instead.  What he really wanted to say is that the frame should hold *his* picture.  He didn't, of course, and his argument was persuasive enough to get Jenna to drop the photo idea. By the end of the morning, Lance had a headache and wanted nothing more than to go find Justin and convince him to lie down with him. That, of course, was not likely, now or later.  He stared at the photo on the desk and prayed that somehow this boy could be his. At lunch, he called Joe and asked if there was a chance that he could come with him to meet up with JC and Justin.  After AJ, Lance wasn't willing to trust himself and as crazy as it had sounded, the idea of Justin passing muster with Joey didn't seem like a bad idea at all. Joey laughed but agreed to come and meet him outside at 5:00.  Lance knew they had to get there before JC  had to get out on the street, sure Justin wouldn't hang out alone with them. He hung up and wondered why he was going to all this trouble and then he looked at that smile in the photo and remembered. The rest of the day flew by, a flurry of activity that always preceded a presentation.  Lance was good at his job and detail- oriented, a fact Jenna loved.  By five, he was well-prepared for the next day and told Jenna he was leaving. "Hot date?" she asked with a smile. "Hope so." Lance left before he blurted out something and slung his jacket over his shoulder.  Joey was waiting. During the el ride, Lance warned Joey to watch his mouth, that Justin needed to be handled with kid gloves.  Joey rolled his eyes and wondered to himself if Lance hooking up with this kid was even a decent idea much less a good one. Lance was as nervous as he had ever been, kicking himself for the modeling idea, for bringing Joey, and most of all, for falling for Justin.  He closed his eyes and imagined their first kiss, something sudden and unexpected, but filled with longing,  and promising so much more.  A smile formed and he knew how impossible it would have been not to fall for him. Joey elbowed him, "Thinking about your boy?" Lance opened one eye and glared at him, making Joey laugh.  "Oh yes, I'd say yes." Lance ignored him and closed his eye again. Justin was beside himself with anxiety.  He had promised JC he would stay in and the truth was, he didn't want to run into any johns, one in particular.  But in here, his thoughts were driving him insane. It was four and JC had promised to be back by now.  He should have gone with him, insisted when JC said he had a few errands to run, but JC said to stay here and he was gone before Justin could even think about arguing. He could have gone out alone, but JC had asked, begged him not to, and Justin couldn't let JC down again.  That had been his deal to himself — no new bruises, the modeling was a go.  So he couldn't risk running into one of his usual tricks.  It wasn't fair to JC. He decided to shower again.  It was the third today but he couldn't get the feeling of the two johns off  him and he knew, just knew, that Lance would smell them and wrinkle his nose in disgust. He studied his cuts and bruises in the mirror.  The bruises had turned to that greenish color that means they're disappearing and the cuts were healing, even the WHORE fading.  Justin shrugged.  Just as he stepped out of his boxers, he heard the door and redressed quickly. It was JC and Justin nearly hugged him.  JC recognized that look.  "What's wrong, Jus?" "I know I fucked up." "What?  Did you go out again?" He was scanning Justin's chest, looking for new marks, but he saw none. "No, no," he said, running his fingers through his curls, "I just know that Lance won't be back.  I know I pissed him off bad." JC pulled him down to the sofa and patted his back, "Let's just wait and see and if he doesn't come back, then, well, we still have our night jobs." He had tried to make a joke, but it didn't come out that way.  Up to this moment, neither of them had realized just how much they were counting on Lance to make things right for them, to take them away from this life. Justin looked as if he were going to burst into tears, feeling responsible for JC as well as himself.  "Oh God, JC, what if..." "Stop, Justin," JC snapped.  He didn't want to go there.  He smiled then, changing the subject. "Look what I bought us for the interview!" He pulled two sweaters out of a bag and laid them on Justin's lap.  "Guess which one is yours?" One was a wild array of colors, a modern art pallette gone berserk and the other a baby blue turtleneck.  Justin smiled and pointed to the multicolored model.  "That one." JC hoped it was a joke and hesitated, but Justin's soft laugh relieved him.  "Like it?" Justin was having a hard time speaking.  With anyone else, this was the point where he would go into his hard-ass street boy persona, rejecting the kindness.  But with JC, he knew it was caring and that there was nothing expected in return and that was even harder to take. JC was nervous, "I can take it back, exchange it, whatever..." "It's perfect, JC.  Thanks," Justin whispered. "You're welcome, baby, you deserve it.  Someday, you'll have hundreds of sweaters." Lance and Joey were almost at Lynn's when Joey asked what he was going to tell Justin.  "Tell him?  What's to tell?  You're my friend.  You came along.  End of story." "Ok, got it." Lance looked a little worried.  It never occurred to him that Joey might tell Justin why they were there.  My God, that would be the end for sure. "Not a single word about why you're really here.  Get it?" Lance was already on pins and needles, afraid of what would set the boy off this time.  JC said he promised to try to control the street boy, but `try' was a funny word and it didn't always work. Lance hesitated and took a deep breath before knocking.  He knew they must have been waiting since the door opened almost immediately.  He was disappointed that it was JC and read into this small act, things that might not have been there. Justin hadn't answered the door because he wasn't sure he could stand.  Shit, he wasn't this nervous with freaky johns that wanted all kinds of sick crap.  He couldn't even look up right away. Lance could feel his anger rise when Justin didn't acknowledge them immediately, but he breathed slowly and pushed it down.  The introductions were made and he could tell by Joey's face that he was impressed by Justin. JC seemed to be the emcee for the visit and suggested they head to the diner for a quick bite.  What he didn't say was that he had to be on the corner in a couple of hours.  They walked in pairs, JC and Joey striding ahead, Justin and Lance lagging behind. Lance was trying to think of what to say that wouldn't create an issue, staring at the ground, when he heard Justin hiss, "Shit.  Oh, fuck." He looked up quickly to see a tall, well-built man heading their way and when Lance glanced at Justin, he saw the younger man frozen in place.  Justin had bitten his lip so hard, a drop of blood had already appeared and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his side. Lance was confused, "Justin...?"  The boy didn't seem to hear him, just stood watching every step the man took, his face a mask of fear. "Hey, baby, last night was so good," the john purred.  "Sorry you had to kneel in an alley, but I was kinda in a rush." Lance felt the color drain out of his face as he watched this man humiliate Justin and then turn to him with an oily smile.  "Good choice.  This kid is hot in bed and cries like a girl." Justin still hadn't moved or said a word.  The man moved forward and grasped his chin, pulling him forward, "Soon, baby, soon." And then he was gone. Lance and Justin stood in silence.  Joey and JC had finally noticed the two weren't behind them and had come back to check on them.  Joey was adrift, his gaze swinging back and forth between them, but JC saw the john's disappearing back and guessed what had happened. "Jus," he said and turned the boy to face him.  It was painful to look into his eyes and see the shame, glowing brightly, the flames destroying Justin.  "C'mon, baby, let's go back to Lynn's." "Wait," Lance said, "Justin, I...." He had no words.  He had no idea how to tell this boy that it was okay, what he had heard, what he had seen, what he knew. "Not now, Lance, please, come back tomorrow, please?" JC begged, pulling Justin in the direction of Lynn's apartment.  Justin followed, a doll dragged along the pavement, Lance and Joey left behind. Joey and Lance headed toward the el, Joey leading the way, Lance seeing everything through a watery haze.  He wanted to throw up, to rid himself of the filth that surrounded that man, the filth that Justin had to live with every day. On the platform, Joey quizzed Lance for an explanation, playing twenty questions until he had the whole story.  His face was solemn as he watched Lance cry softly for that boy's pain.  He wanted to erase it but he couldn't so he just stood there and witnessed it. Lance had forced each word out, realizing that it all might be finished unless JC had more magic up his sleeve.  He prayed that JC could do something to ease Justin's heart and Lance only wished he could be the one to offer the solace instead. Justin's expression was glazed, horror imprinted on his features, Lance's face photographed in memory for all time.  JC led him into the apartment and pushed him onto the sofa, hurrying to the kitchen for a glass of water. Justin took the glass and held it, neither drinking nor putting it down, just staring into a bleak future.  "Jus, Jus, look at me." Justin looked into JC's eyes and saw the pity there and the tears fell, steady and quiet, dripping soundlessly.  He replayed the tape, over and over, seeing Lance's horrified expression again and again. "I'm going out tonight," Justin said in a monotone. "Out?  Out where?" "To the corner.  It's where I belong.  This whole thing...." "No, Justin, no." "Forget it, JC.  I'm sorry.  Try to get them to take you anyhow." "What did Lance say?" JC begged, unsure of what happened. Justin frowned, "Lance?  Lance didn't say anything.  It was that guy." "What did he say?" JC asked but Justin just shook his head and stood, staring down at the sweater that had represented their hopes. "Better take this back," Justin said softly, "I won't need it." He moved toward the door but JC was quicker and blocked it, praying for the right words. "Please don't.  Please, not tonight.  If you still want to do it tomorrow, then I won't try to stop you but not tonight." Justin simply stared at him. "It's me, JC.  It's me, the whore, nothing but a whore.  Let me go do what I do best." "No, Justin, no.  You deserve so much better." Justin pushed past and JC knew it was useless to try and stop him, Justin the taller and heavier of the two.  When the door slammed behind him, JC sat on the sofa and hugged himself. Justin walked slowly to the corner and blended in, just another boy ready to sell himself for another night.  Time passed and business was slow, the johns busy at home with wives and children.  Maybe they'd be here later, maybe not.  Justin leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.  The voice stirred him, "Come have dinner with me." His eyes snapped open and he met Lance's green ones, shadowed in the dim light.  He shook his head, "I don't want your pity." "It's not pity.  It's need." Justin stared at him, the hooker and the boy competing for control.  "What do *you* need, Lance?" Lance forced himself to keep calm, understanding what was happening, even though he wanted to shake the hooker right out of Justin.  "I need you.  For work, at the very least." Justin sighed.  He didn't know what he had been expecting. Declarations of love?  "This *is* my work." "It doesn't have to be." "Didn't you hear him?  How hot I am in bed and how I cry like a girl?  I can give you a sample." "If I ever get a sample, I want it to be from your heart," Lance said. "Not sure mine is salvageable." "We could see.  Start with dinner?" Lance was determined to keep things nonthreatening. Justin looked around, assessing the johns.  One of them caught his eye and came over, "You.  How much?" Before Justin could answer, Lance stepped in, "Sorry.  I just asked him.  Another time?" "Yeah, another time," the john said, "Too bad.  He's really .... "Thanks," Lance interrupted and turned to Justin, "Ready?" Justin couldn't move but he saw the john continue to watch them, so he put one foot in front of the other.  "Where to?" "I don't care," Lance replied, "your choice." "Not hungry." Lance frowned and turned to face him.  "OK, here then." Justin scowled, unsure what Lance meant.  "I heard what that fuck said before.  I'm sorry I heard.  But Justin, I wasn't surprised or shocked.  It's no secret to me what you do to live." After the first words, Justin had dropped his head, studying his shoes, but when Lance stopped he looked up, searching Lance's face for a hidden agenda.  He sighed, a small sound from the real Justin.  "What if this happens at your job or when ...." "Can we deal with that when we get there?" Justin was afraid to ask, but he needed to know, "So this is just about work.  This being nice to Justin.  Keeping Justin off the streets so his body will look good to sell." The street boy had fought his way back. "Damn.  You are so fucking annoying," Lance spat out, "Can't I just be nice to you?" "Why?  Why are you going to be nice to me?  What the fuck do you want?  I need to know the deal," Justin shouted back.  He knew trades— body equals money.  If that's all it was to Lance, then he needed to know, before he let the real Justin peek around and get slammed. Lance sucked in his breath.  God, this boy was beautiful.  Between the desire and the anger, he could barely breathe.  He took another long breath. "I need you to model, yes," he said.  Justin started to turn away, "But that's not all.  I want...." He couldn't go on. I want to make love to you, I want to make you happy, I want you to love me, too.  None of that came to his lips. Justin hesitated, hoping for more words, hoping that Lance would give him a reason to stay. ....to be friends." It was lame and Lance knew it.  But JC had warned him to go slow, not to scare this skittish boy off.  Justin knew it was a lie, felt Lance's desire slide over his skin and leave hot trails where it touched. "Friends?" Justin sneered, "That's what they all say, right before they fuck me.  I can be your friend, for the right price." Lance was frustrated to the point of fury, "Stop that shit.  I don't want to hire you as a whore either for work or for me.  Modeling is a job, a real, respectable job.  As for me, if we ever fuck, it will be because we both want to, not because you owe me." Justin stood there, the conflict clearly written on his face.  "Ok, let's do dinner." continue menu