Drowning In Decadence No one knows. And those that do, look the other way. After all, they’re not boys--they’re men. Rich men. Men with power. Men with money. Men with fame and celebrity. They aren’t play things and no one can control them. They move with the confidence of a Fortune 500 president celebrating his sixtieth birthday. They sweep through life with demands that hired associates scramble to meet. They slide through rules that weren’t made for people of their stature.  ********************** So when JC hires strippers to come to his room and fuck on his bed, everyone involved grants clearance and hides him. Because he’s a teen idol and as such, this doesn’t happen. The girls moan at all the right times and allow JC to invite a member of the crew and Chris in the room while they roll naked on the bed. And when the invited guests are finally gone, JC masturbates over them, then waves them away. Yeah, he’s empty afterward, but it’s better than a groupie. Groupies are messy. And he can’t kink with them. His assistant lugs the suitcase with his toys in it. And to add insult, she’s expected to clean and have them ready for the next city. No one mentions it. They’re paid to protect him. Not to lecture him on the emptiness of his life. ************************ And when Lance wobbles to the left, no one comments. Bodyguards follow him closely, including into the private VIP bathroom where he vomits for a ten count before washing up and hitting the bar again. His ‘people’ shield him as much as they can, not out of concern for his well-being, but out of concern for their jobs. If Lance goes down, they go down. It’s business, they decide, and Lance isn’t really human, they convince themselves. He’s simply another spoiled pop star with a drinking problem. They do usher him out when he gets too touchy feely with other club goers because once he snuck away and got a blow job in the bathroom. It was nearly leaked and people lost their jobs over it. So getting Lance out at the right time is always imperative. ********************* Chris gets high with annoying regularity. He dabbles in drugs and seems to fall into situations with power players. But he never gets star struck over the power players. His goal? To party and numb out. So no one blinks when he drops a baggie out of his duffle. The bodyguard simply stoops down to retrieve it. He tucks it back in the side pocket and makes sure it’s zipped. It’s not as if Chris chooses wise places to get high either. So everyone is on guard. Sometimes they hand him a lighter if he’s forgotten one. But no one ever tells him to stop. It’s not their place. One assistant carries cologne and mouthwash while the other carries Visine and a hairspray can with a false bottom--because Chris can never be caught with it. She fears getting caught but he pays her extra money to carry his stash. So she rambles on through her life and lets him live as he chooses. ***************** No one cares that Joey has unprotected sex regularly. No one stops him although his bodyguards carry condoms--just in case. They watch the door--any door, bathroom, closet--and guard it while he throws random girls a quick fuck. They escort the girl out when it’s over and pacify her with a phony cell phone number. Then they check him over for signs of a sexual battle--scratch marks, bites, anything that Kelly could find--and let him go. And if Joey comes back ten minutes later with another woman, they repeat the scenario. The condoms sit unopened in their pockets and they wonder if Joey will call it a night so they can go out and get laid soon. But he never calls it early so they just move on and let Joey fall into one dangerous spin after the other. Joey gives great Christmas bonus. *************************** Justin is gay living the life of misery. Sometimes they see him cry and sometimes they sneak a paid boy into his room. They handle the transaction then smile when Britney comes for a visit. He doesn’t sleep and pops prescription drugs all day. One for sleep--one for mood swings--one for anxiety--but no one ever comes out and suggests he do what he feels. Because Justin throws them money like it’s water. Not to mention the cars as an end of the year bonus. So they stay quiet and watch over the riff raff he occasionally entertains. And guard the pop princess when she visits. They make sure he has bottled water for his meds but no one ever actually checks to be sure he’s taking the right ones. He passes out once in his hotel room and no one even notices until Lance comes by looking for him. And no one says a word about it afterward. ***************************** When Chris says ‘they’re brothers’ it’s true. And only in the confines of themselves do the five ‘boys’ emerge. Only with each other can they be who they are. In the space of a day where just the five of them gather for a pre-tour day of relaxation--no girlfriends or boyfriends allowed--can Chris give Lance ‘the eye’ over that fourth beer. And only with that eye will Lance put the beer down and smile shyly. It’s the only place JC can corner Joey and whisper how empty he feels inside and Joey will rub his back gently and whisper words of love and hope. It’s the only place where Justin can line up the pretty colored pills to take before Lance swipes them away and pulls him into a kiss--because Justin likes to kiss boys. It’s the only place where Joey can worry openly about losing Kelly and Brianna and express his fears over his compulsion to have unprotected sex randomly--because Chris will shake him and explain again how painful AIDS is--and how destroyed they would be to lose him. It’s the only place Chris can be without smoking pot or doing a line because he doesn’t *need* to. He can kick back with his shirt and shoes off and just be. Designer duds aren’t around. Fancy food is replaced by a few pizza pies and some cheap desserts from the local bakery. No one around to do the dishes or pick up the empty soda and beer cans. It’s five boys sitting around playing video games and comparing lives. Lives they live separately but together. [ back ]