by G. A. Hauser
empty glasses and putting them into the dishwasher. “Are we
ready for our public appearance as the top of a gay wedding
cake, Mr Rhys?”
“I am if you are.” Fabian held his hand and squeezed it.
Braxton kissed his knuckles quickly, then began shutting
lights and checking his phone for messages. Right before he
opened his unit door to leave, he asked, “Do I look like I was the
victim of a knife fight?”
“Huh?”
Braxton pointed to his chin.
“You do realize it’s the size of a pinhead, right?”
“To me it’s as if I took a cleaver to my face.” He gestured for
Fabian to leave first, then double-locked his door, pocketing his
key.
“What am I going to do with you?” Fabian squeezed
Braxton’s ass as they headed to the elevator.
“Take care of me tonight. I’m planning on getting drunk on
my ass.”
“Deal.”
~
Fabian exited the elevator and lobby to see a stretch
limousine and a stud wearing a chauffeur’s uniform, including a
cap, leaning against it, waiting. The man looked more like a
strip-o-gram than a real driver.
You fucked that?
“Scott, this is my…” Braxton thumbed over his shoulder to
Fabian and seemed to stumble on a word.
Trying to ease Braxton’s anxiety, Fabian said, “Friend,” and
extended his hand.
“Fuck that!” Braxton leapt on Fabian and kissed him, nearly
knocking Fabian off his feet. When he ended the kiss Braxton
said to Scott, “He ain’t my fucking friend.”
Scott laughed and opened the back door. “One with
benefits?”
“No. He’s my…” Braxton coughed and rubbed his forehead.
“My boyfriend!” he yelled as if he were battling internal demons
again and then climbed into the car.
Fabian smiled at Scott. “That took a momentous effort.”
“Believe me, I know. I’ve known Braxton for a long time.
Good job on getting him this far.”
“Thanks.” Fabian entered the back of the limousine and
Braxton was slouched on the seat, pouring scotch into a shot
glass.
Fabian sat against him and smiled. “Bravo. That was nice.”
Braxton shot the liquor down and asked, “You want one?”
“Not yet. Let me at least see what the hell this affair is like
before I get inebriated and act like an ass.”
“That’s me. An ass. They expect it.” He poured another as
Scott began to drive them onto the main street.
“Hey, Scott,” Fabian called to the man behind the wheel. “Is
he usually this hard on himself?”
Braxton elbowed Fabian to be quiet.
“Yes. Sorry, man. He’s got…issues.” Scott laughed.
“That’s rich coming from you, Baldwin.” Braxton downed
the second shot and replaced the bottle into the small cabinet.
“Baldwin?”
“Not that Baldwin,” Braxton said and slumped low in the
seat.
Fabian put the privacy divider up and turned to face Braxton,
cupping Braxton’s crotch. “What is it about these events makes
you crazy?”
“Everything.”
“The worst part? One thing?”
Braxton ran his hand through his hair as if it was in his face
and driving him crazy. “Being alone and getting hit on by a pack
of morons.”
“Well. You’re not alone now.”
Braxton turned to face him and his eyes were glossy and sad.
He cupped Fabian’s jaw and kissed him, slowly pushing Fabian
back on the bench seat and lying on top of him.
Fabian relaxed as Braxton got the reassurance he was
possibly looking for. What did Braxton expect him to do? Run
off with a celebrity and leave him to go home alone?
After a long moment of kissing, Braxton rested on Fabian,
closing his eyes. Fabian petted Braxton’s hair, trying to relax
him, hoping the booze would do the same for him.
A knock of a knuckle sounded at the privacy divider. Braxton
sat up and straightened his jacket, lowering the divider.
“About there, Brax.”
“Thanks, Scott.”
Fabian noticed Scott trying to see them in the rear view
mirror. No we weren’t fucking.
As Braxton checked his appearance in a drop down mirror,
Fabian wondered about this whole celebrity lifestyle. The
pressure was already heavy, and he wasn’t even famous.
Braxton, however, was.
The car stopped and even through the closed windows and
doors Fabian could hear the loud chatter of people right outside.
Scott opened the back door for them and Braxton exited first,
waiting for Fabian.
Fabian climbed out to view a huge mob outside the restaurant
where the pre-gala function was being held. Ropes, security
guards, LAPD cops, and paparazzi with cameras flashing
overwhelmed Fabian.
There were screams from women of Braxton’s name and
people waving paper as if they wanted his autograph. Cell
phones and digital cameras were pointed at the men as they were
guarded on both sides and escorted into the fancy venue.
Once inside, it felt safe and serene, until they entered the
room holding the reception. The large restaurant catering hall
was decorated with posters for the film, and the scent of food hit
Fabian, making his stomach growl.
The second Braxton was noticed, he was greeted and
approached by many people who offered a hug or an enthusiastic
shake of his hand.
Fabian fell into the background, watching, waiting,
wondering what his role was.
“…and this is…” Braxton turned around and appeared
surprised Fabian wasn’t right beside him. He waved anxiously
for Fabian to ‘ get over here!’
Fabian hustled to stand with Braxton.
“This is my newest associate, Fabian Rhys. So for all of you
who have been touched by his uncompromising service, here’s
the man in the flesh.”
“Oh! So you’re Fabian!”
“Fabian, thank you so much for all your help!”
“I can’t believe Braxton actually found someone as efficient
as he is!”
As Fabian absorbed the praise modestly, not remembering
anyone’s name and knowing this small independent film, though
it starred several up and coming young talent, didn’t have any
mega stars, he still tried to be gracious.
“Yes, well,” Braxton tried to ease them out of the mob,
“Time for food and booze. Good luck on the premiere.”
As Braxton held his elbow and led him to the buffet table,
Fabian looked back to see the shared smiles from the group,
whispering about…? About how Mr Todd and Mr Rhys may
be…more than partners in the firm? In reality—lovers?
“Braxton! Hello!”
Fabian looked up to find a young woman decked out in a
simple black dress, with diamonds around her neck and dangling
from her earlobes.
“Hey, babe.” Braxton kissed her cheek and immediately
Fabian wondered if this was one
of Braxton’s straight conquests.
“Fabian Rhys, this is the Executive Producer of the film
we’re about to see.”
“Oh!” Fabian had to stop allowing the air of dread from
Braxton’s past to permeate their evening. “So nice to meet you.
Good luck on the screening.” He shook her hand.
“Thanks. Are you Fabian’s partner?”
Fabian and Braxton exchanged glances at the phrasing of the
comment.
“Uh…” Fabian didn’t know what to say even though Braxton
had used the same word just a moment ago.
“Was it a trick question?” she laughed when neither man
answered.
“Nope.” Braxton seemed to gain some confidence. “Yes. He
is. In both work and…socially.”
“Well, well.” Her smile broadened. “Someone finally netted
the elusive Braxton Todd? Is it official?”
Fabian hoped she didn’t push Braxton out of his comfort
zone.
“No. But…” Braxton gave him a sweet smile. “He’s pretty
amazing.”
Fabian’s cheeks went into a heated blush instantly, although
he tried to remember how much alcohol Braxton had already
consumed. If Braxton was buzzed, he may do and say things he
may not do when sober. Or worse, forget he had uttered them.
“Well! Good luck to you too. I think you’ll need it more than
I will!” She smiled sweetly and headed to speak to someone else
in the crowd who was trying to get her attention.
Fabian stood in line for the food, indeed seeing the ‘gluten-
free’ addition he had heard Braxton discussing on the phone.
Picking up a plate, Fabian made sure Braxton was right beside
him since he knew how little they had eaten all day.
But as they made their way down the line, Braxton, even with
a plate in his hand and a growing pile of gourmet fare, was being
constantly bothered and interrupted.
“…yes, Brianna hired extra LAPD and there’s private
security as well,” Braxton said to a man who has asked about the
issue.
Fabian figured this was why Braxton didn’t enjoy the events.
It wasn’t play, it was work.
“Well? They’re not here. Did they even show up?”
“What do you mean did the off duty security LAPD cops
show yet?” Braxton tried to remove his phone from his pocket
and hold his plate at the same time. Fabian took his plate,
continuing down the line and getting an assortment of food as
Braxton obviously called Brianna.
“Hey, where are the cops?” Braxton nodded in reassurance to
the person who appeared very worried beside him.
The server asked, “Do you want gluten-free roasted
eggplant?”
“Uh, sure. Why not?” He got no reaction from Braxton when
he tried to ask him silently if he wanted it as well. Fabian was
given two scoops of the steaming food, one on each plate.
“No! I was just told they are not here!” Braxton ran his hand
through his long hair and Fabian was getting the impression that
was his ‘tell’ when he was anxious—dragging his long hair back
from his eyes. He said to the nervous man waiting for an answer,
“I’ll get back to you.” The man walked off.
Fabian continued to hold both plates and nudged Braxton as
he spoke to Brianna, looking for a table where they would get
peace and not bombarded.
The hall had huge tables, like for a wedding, and was filled
with people eating drinking and looking excited before the film
premiere.
“Yes. Okay. I’ll check. Thanks, Brianna.” Braxton hung up
and appeared frazzled. “I need a drink.”
When he walked away, leaving Fabian with two full plates of
food, Fabian shook his head and located a spot, placing both
meals down and waiting as Braxton got his booze fix.
~
“Hello, Braxton.”
He spun around in line to see Dack Torrington. “No.”
“No?” Dack appeared confused.
“How did you get in here?”
“I know one of the stars. He’s a good friend.”
“I’m with—” Braxton tried to find Fabian.
The man tending the bar asked, “Can I get you something,
sir?”
“Two vodka cranberries, please.” Braxton ran his hand
through his hair impatiently.
“So? You change your mind about representing me?” Dack
touched Braxton’s ass.
Braxton whacked his hand down. “No.” He took one of the
glasses and drank it all as he waited for Fabian’s.
“Don’t get crazy. I’m here with my old man.”
“Your father?” Braxton blinked.
“No! My sugar dad. Jeez, Braxton. Why would I come here
with my father?” Dack shook his head at the absurdity. “Come
meet him. He’s willing to pay you a lot to get my name out
there.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
Braxton held out his empty glass and took Fabian’s drink.
“Quick refill?”
“Certainly, Mr Todd.”
Braxton looked over the crowd for Fabian and couldn’t even
see him at the moment. He craved him on his arm, but he knew
Fabian was here. Somewhere. He shot down Fabian’s drink and
left the empty glass on the bar as he took the third one to bring to him. If and when he could find him.
~
Fabian’s food was growing cold. He began to eat it and
worried where Braxton had gotten sidetracked. He knew he had.
The meal was excellent and he was starving, so he gobbled it
down and tried not to engage the other people at the large table.
He was a stranger, so they ignored him as if he had the plague.
Typical celeb-wanna-be’s
After he ate his meal, he began to worry about Braxton
guzzling alcohol on an empty stomach. Holding Braxton’s plate,
he did a search. Sure enough, Braxton was boxed in by a young
man standing near an elderly gentleman, who was seated at one
of the tables.
Fabian walked closer and could hear the debate.
“…Braxton, why not? It’s just money!”
“Dack, look, let me eat, will ya? It’s a Saturday and I don’t
want to discuss business at the moment.”
Fabian spotted a drink in Braxton’s hand and cleared his
throat.
Braxton spun around, holding out the booze. “This is for you.
Take it before I drink it.”
“And this is for you.” Fabian handed him the plate. “I hope
it’s not cold.”
They swapped items and Fabian tried to figure out what was
going on.
Braxton gestured to his meal and addressed the two men, “I
need to eat. Nice meeting you.” He rolled his eyes at Fabian and
they tried to find another table that they could occupy where
Braxton could eat.
“I bet it’s cold.” Fabian pulled out a chair for Braxton.
“I’m used to it.” Braxton sat down and began eating the meal.
Fabian tasted the drink and shivered. “Damn, that’s strong.”
“Tell me about it. I’m toast.”
That surprised Fabian. Braxton certainly appeared sober.
When someone approach
ed Braxton, about to disturb his
meal, Fabian blocked him with an outstretched arm, and said,
“Let Mr Todd eat in peace.”
The guest made a face of insult and left.
Braxton said between bites, “Love you.”
“Back at ya.” Fabian caressed Braxton’s shoulder
affectionately.
Fabian waited until Braxton had eaten most of his food,
sipping his drink, keeping the hounds at bay, and then the entire
party appeared to leave the room at once.
Braxton wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and said, “Show
time.”
“Are we walking to the theater?”
“No one walks in California. Even if it’s two blocks we’ll
have Scott drive us there.”
“What a crock.” Fabian laughed and finished the drink.
“Tell me about it. It’s all about appearances. Getting out of
the limo for the photographers. Remember what we do? We’re
the PR machine that makes this crap happen.” Braxton stood and
swayed.
Fabian caught him. “The food will help.”
“I hope not.” Braxton boldly held Fabian’s hand and they left
the restaurant’s private event room and lined up at the exit door
as the limousines did outdoors.
Braxton put his phone to his ear. “Where are you?”
Fabian assumed he was talking to Scott.
Braxton nodded, gripped Fabian’s hand, and bypassed a line
of people waiting to be driven to the premiere.
The minute they were outside, the crowd became manic and
Fabian was slightly afraid. Braxton held him tight and headed to
the curb where Scott opened the back door for them.
Quickly Braxton and Fabian entered the limousine and the
moment they did, Braxton went for the booze.
“Do I need to get you into AA?” Fabian asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe just before these nights.” Braxton
tipped a small shot of scotch into a glass and instead of shooting
it down, he sipped it, slouching on the seat.
The car moved slowly and Fabian had no idea what distance
they had to travel. He assumed since everything was right here in
LA it was close. He texted Naomi that he was on his way to the
premiere, but chances were she would be sitting in the theater
with her date, away from where Braxton would most likely sit.
She sent a text back telling him not to worry, and to just
enjoy.
And as Fabian expected, five minutes later, Scott parked, got
out, and opened the back door for them. Braxton didn’t finish the
drink this time, perhaps because of the comment Fabian had