by Jayce, Aven
“Stop lying to me… everyone, stop!” he shouts and grips his hair in his hands. He’s losing his shit and I need to calm him down before he rises for another attack.
“Dayne, why is Cove’s father in a photograph with all of you at your college fraternity house?” I question.
Dayne walks back into the room and is obviously puzzled… and for that matter, so is my father. Neither one looks like they have any idea what I’m talking about. I take the photo from the shattered glass and broken frame and show it to them. They study it together and then look to one another for an answer.
“What’s this about Dayne? You hiding something?” my father asks.
“Fuck no. What about you, Paul?”
“Don’t question me, you shit.” My father looks at the photo and smiles. “I remember this night. All these random guys way in the back, where Everton’s mixed in, they were all there for that ‘one man invite’ bash. Remember that?”
“Nope,” Dayne replies. “I don’t remember much from our frat days… too much drinking.”
“Well, he either crashed the party, or someone invited him. Ask our brothers, find out if anyone else knows him besides us.”
“Shit, that was over twenty-five years ago. You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t believe you,” Cove interrupts. “How the fuck did you not notice him in that photo for all these years? I want to know…”
“I never looked that closely at all the people in the photo, especially the stragglers in the back, and since I didn’t know him back then, I wouldn’t have noticed him when I first had it enlarged. This photo has been on that shelf since I moved in here, and believe me, I didn’t take it out of the box and go through all the faces in a search for Cove Everton. People unloaded, unpacked, and decorated this house. Not me. You know what. Fuck it. I’m not going to be late for work and miss my first meeting over this,” my father growls, as he releases the photo and it floats to the floor. “Ten of our brothers work for this company and I trust every one of them. This is meaningless. Cove Everton’s in prison, where he belongs.”
“Fuck you, Paul,” Cove shouts. “Fuck you!”
“If he was at that kegger decades ago, it was just a coincidence. Get ready for the party tonight. All of you. Dayne, get the house whore to help with their clothes. Something seductive, but keep it classy.”
My father starts to walk away but then turns to Dayne. “Did you check the stats like I asked?”
“Yeah, I get it. They love the fucker. Both of ‘em.”
He heads to the stairs and I’m left with a list of questions scrolling through my head. Why would Cove’s father be in Philly? And at that particular fraternity house… out of all the places in the city, why there? Cove’s right, they have to be lying. Why?
“It’s too early in the morning for all of this, go back to bed,” Dayne mutters as he leaves the room.
“Come on, Babe. Get up.” I reach my hand out to Cove and help him to his feet. “You need to get dressed, take some Ibuprofen, and eat breakfast.
“Soph. Stop.” He looks down at me with the saddest face I’ve ever seen on another human being. “Give me the photo.”
I pick it up and hand it to him then watch as his eyes scan the faces. “Recognize anyone?”
“Yeah, a few.”
I look at the photo to see if I can help, not that I’d know anyone, but I can at least try to offer my support. Dayne and Doron are next to one another, both in sport jackets baring their fraternity’s Greek letters. My father’s in the middle of the entire group and he’s holding a paddle scrawled in signatures. Cove’s father stands in the far back of the photo next to a tree. He’s talking to two men; one has his back turned to the camera and the other’s smoking a cigarette. There are similar groups of men standing throughout the background of the shot, and it looks like someone took it at the beginning of the evening, right when people were arriving at the house. The man with his back turned in the photograph is wearing a jacket similar to those of Dayne and Doron; he must be a member of the fraternity. The sleeves of the jacket are slightly rolled, and his wrists are taped.
“Do you recognize the men with your father?”
“Yes, and no. I think the one with his back to us is Carl.”
“Caverns?” I belt out. “He’s been a part of this for that long?”
“I don’t know, Soph.” His voice is soft as he shakes his head. “I don’t know anything anymore. It could be him. He was in the frat, along with this guy, and these two,” he says, pointing to the photo. “They all work for Paul now. I think it’s him because I know he’s a cutter. I’ve seen his wrists wrapped in the past like the guy’s wrists in the photo. But I don’t recognize the person next to him.”
“So you think your father knows Carl?”
He exhales a deep breath of air and shakes his head again. “I don’t know. I can’t see my father associating with such a person, unless he had to.”
“What type of person? Like my father? He associated with him too, remember?”
“My father was hired by Paul to set up the security for the company websites. He only worked for him for six months before I was under Paul’s hand, then he was stuck; otherwise he probably wouldn’t have been with your father’s company for more than a year. What I mean by ‘associating with a person such as Carl’ is that he used to be heavily into drugs. You can’t trust any of them, the Rosens, your dad, Carl, the whole company’s full of sleazy, cheating bastards,” Cove growls. “I don’t know what the fuck my father was doing at this party, but you can bet he wasn’t there because he was friends with Carl. But I will find out. Next time I see my father I’m going to show him this photo, and he’s going to tell me. I’ll make him tell me everything,” he says in a pissed voice.
“You’re gonna take the photo?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s stealing. It’s not yours.”
“What the fuck, Soph. Really? Are you serious? You think your dad gives a shit about this photo?”
“Well he must if he has it on a shelf in his living room. Just take a photo of it and then you’ll have a copy.”
“You want me to take a photo of a photo?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Fine,” he mumbles and limps back to the suite. “If we ever get our phones back, I will, but for now I’ll keep the image ingrained in my head so your asinine father can keep his precious photo.”
I watch him dress while I search through my suitcase for clean clothes. He puts on a pair of faded blue jeans and the black button front shirt he had on yesterday, un-tucked, with the sleeves rolled. The top of his foot is red and swollen from my father’s shoe.
“I can’t believe you punched my father.”
“Why? Don’t you think he deserved it?”
“Well, I… I guess so. Maybe not for having a photograph on his shelf, but yes, he deserves it for other things. I’m surprised he didn’t hit you back.”
“He put a good choke hold on me and fucked with my foot, that’s enough as far as I’m concerned. Besides, he was on his way to work and probably has meetings all morning, which means he’ll want to look his best. No hair out of place or blood on his clothes. Plus he seemed tired. We’re all tired,” Cove declares.
“I don’t have any clean clothes.”
“One more day, Soph.”
“One more day ‘til what?” Mera asks, as she walks into the suite wearing a knee-length light blue satin robe.
“Until we…” I start to reply then get quickly cut off by Cove.
“Until we have a day off. Saturdays are always free days in the house. We won’t have to perform for clients.”
“Oh,” Mera says. “I need to get you guys some clothes for tonight. Paul said he wants something sexy and seductive, but in good taste. I’m not sure what that means. I’ve never been to one of these soirees before.”
“Mera, don’t you feel bad about all of this?” I ask.
“About having a party?
Nope.”
“No,” I seethe. “About the fact that Cove and I have to submit and work for my father, we’re under his control, can’t get out of the house, and he’s marketing us for his business.”
“You were outside last night. We went swimming.”
“Why are you playing dumb?” I scorn. “This is so out of character for you. Are you so hog-tied to Dayne that you’ve forgotten what our friendship means? If you have so much freedom, then why don’t you take us shopping with you today.”
She takes a step back and looks up to the ceiling fan. She steps out of the room and mumbles something about being back later with the clothes.
“Let her go,” Cove says. “She’ll figure things out on her own. Give her some time to realize that all of the wealth around her isn’t hers. She has dollar signs in her eyes, I can sense it. All of the women who come through here act the same way.”
“No, that’s not like Mera. She’s had a shopping addiction in the past, but nothing major that got her into any real trouble. I can’t imagine her throwing away our friendship because of money or love. Especially Dayne’s love. We’ve been through too much together. And besides, money isn’t everything.”
“Only people who’ve never had money say things like that.”
“Why are you so fucking grumpy today?”
“I just found out my father knew Paul fifteen years earlier than I had originally thought. You would be in a piss-ass mood as well.”
“Well don’t take it out on me, I didn’t do anything.”
He pauses and sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just confused by all of this and I’m on edge about tonight.” He walks over to me and kisses my cheek then helps me find something to wear. “What happened to your yoga pants?”
“I hung them in the bathroom last night to dry when we got out of the pool.”
“Put those on, and this t-shirt, that’s all you need for today. We’ll just be lounging around the house until it’s time.”
I pull the black t-shirt over my head. The one I’ve already worn twice and is starting to smell of body odor. Cove gets my yoga pants and then heads back to the kitchenette. I hear a bottle on the counter and a drawer open. He better not be doing what I think he’s doing.
“Cove, no. It’s fucking eight in the morning, let’s go downstairs and eat some breakfast. Put the fucking wine bottle back in the rack.”
“Fine, there’s stronger stuff downstairs anyway.”
“Why don’t you talk to me about how you’re feeling instead of drinking?”
“I need something to take the edge off and I’ll be fine.”
“Well if we just talk about…”
“Sophia,” he interrupts in a cold voice. “One drink.”
“Cove,” I reply in my most authoritative voice. “No.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, what the fuck. Quit it.”
We stare at one another with fiery eyes; his hand taps the counter next to the bottle, as my hands rest on my hips. I’m not backing down. No way.
He places the bottle back in the wine rack and smiles. “You’re fucking hot when you’re angry.”
I won.
“Come on,” I say, taking his hand in mine. “Breakfast.”
***
The great room on the ground floor has just been cleaned and smells of pine. The wood floor glows in the late morning light; and the area that Cove and I cleared of broken glass from my father and Dayne’s fight the night before, is now spotless. Someone’s been through the house, swept, washed, and dusted all the rooms, then left two long tables next to the bar. They’re covered in white table linens and I can only assume placed there specifically for drinks and food for the evening event.
I convinced Cove to eat two slices of toast and an orange before he headed to the bar for a shot. It’s evident that he uses alcohol to pacify the pain and depression that he tries to control on a daily basis. The drink did calm him down, and at any rate, I’m glad he’s not an angry or violent drunk. I can’t blame him for wanting it either. Drinks are everywhere in this house, and for that matter, in my father’s business. It seems that all three of them have some form of alcohol in their hand all hours of the day and night. I even caught myself eyeing the bar when I first walked into the room after cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Vodka and orange juice would make a nice mid-morning drink.
Cove and I lounge on one of the three dark brown sofas spread throughout the room. His swollen and battered foot rests on a coffee table, and he’s scrolling through music on the iPad that I showed him was in the desk drawer of our suite. I mentioned Carl watching my every move when I was online two days ago, and Cove agrees that we shouldn’t check our email or try anything foolish. I place my hand on his thigh and give it a light squeeze as he selects a song.
“Finally. Something we can listen to that isn’t Dayne’s crappy ass music,” he smiles, and clicks play.
“Ah, OneRepublic. We do have similar tastes.”
“Would you leave me if I only listened to ‘hair metal’ music from the 80s?”
“I don’t even know what that is, but, to be on the safe side, I’ll say no.” We laugh, and he goes online with the music playing softly in the background.
“If you don’t mind, and I know this is going to sound crazy, I’d like to go into Jameson Industries to see how we’re represented on the site. It will help me figure out what to expect tonight.”
I nod and he clicks on the NEW PRODUCTS/VIDEOS tab of the Industries homepage. Featured at the top of the page are Baby J and Defiant Star.
“New name?” I ask.
“I guess so.” He looks at the photo of the two of us from the bedroom suite. I’m laying on the bed with my robe open and my hands above my head while he stands over me; both of us nude, our eyes locked in an aroused gaze. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I apologize for sounding crass, Soph, but you look beautiful. I’ve never been turned on by any of this shit, and believe me I’ve seen thousands of these things, but seeing you underneath me like that... and the way you look at me... Jesus.”
“What are those numbers?” I ask, pointing below the photo.
“Clicks.”
“Shit, close to twenty thousand people have opened our photo? Is that what my father meant this morning when he was talking to Dayne about the stats?”
“No, but that’s what I’m trying to get a sense of.” Cove scrolls down and I can see that there’s an entire page filled with photos of us. Video stills from the plane, some from the Keep, and a few from the bedroom suite; all of which have thousands of views. At the bottom are five videos, the airplane and suite are available as two dollar downloads, but the other three have blank screens, and are labeled private access only, verification code required.
“Babe... that number below the airplane video... is that real? That can’t be right.”
“That’s what I wanted to see... shit,” he whispers.
“Am I reading that correctly? Sixty thousand? At two dollars a view he made well over a hundred grand on us in a day!”
“Shit,” he whispers again.
“You just said that.”
“I know. The party will be bigger than I thought. These numbers mean there’ll be a demand for people to see us in person. Autographs, video sales, probably more live cams. Eventually we’ll fade away like all new products do, but for now, it looks like we’re it.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means we’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” he sighs, still studying the screen. I don’t mention our desire to slip out one of the doors this evening, and I know he won’t discuss it unless we have complete privacy to talk. I’ll keep it in the back of my mind that we are leaving tonight.
“You okay?” I ask.
“No. These other three videos that are blackened out worry me. The description under this one reads pool, but we didn’t do anything besides kiss when we went swimming so I don’t k
now why it’s grouped in our set. This other one reads weight room, and then there’s anal treasure. If these are videos of Dayne and Mera...”
“Dayne would kill my father if he put him online.”
“Literally, Soph. He would plainly, without any hesitation, flat out kill him.”
I look at the iPad and click the pool video. Verification code required bounces on the screen. “So, what would happen to us?” I whisper.
“How fast can you run?”
“I’m baaaack,” Mera’s voice echoes through the great room. She closes the front door and places two bags on the sofa next to us. “Got ya some things. Hope they’re to your liking.”
“You’re starting to sound like Dayne,” I mutter and open the bag. “Thank God, it’s not a waspie.” I pull out a flesh tone short dress and hold it up to the light. You can see right through it, being made mostly out of soft mesh-like fabric. It’s short too, incredibly short, and will barely cover my ass. “Shit, Mera.”
“I know. It’s hot, right?”
“Yeah, but slutty as all hell. Why don’t I just walk around naked?”
“Might as well, all the other porn stars here will be.”
“Really?” Mera and I say simultaneously.
“Yeah, the women at least. Either nude or in a bikini. These aren’t black tie, cocktail dress functions. They’re for the clients to view the product, maybe even try a sample.”
“Wait... what?” I gripe. “No fucking way anyone’s getting a sample from me.”
“Don’t worry. As your father mentioned, you and I are a linked product. I’m not separating myself from you tonight.”
“I guess I should’ve asked some questions about what to expect,” I murmur.
Cove reaches into his bag and pulls out a crisp white shirt. I can tell from the cut and the collar that it’s expensive.
“Paul said if people are going to be close to you he wants the bruises on your back to be covered. He said to keep the top three buttons open and roll the sleeves. There’s also a pair of black dress pants in there for you.”
“This is bullshit. Cove gets to dress up and cover himself and all I get is this skimpy transparent two foot piece of fabric?”