Razzle Dazzle

by Morticia Knight

  Jack held his head with one hand and used the other to toss the bag holding his old shoes onto the love seat.

  “Trixie, please, slow down. I gotta awful headache.”

  She came up to him, and patted him on the back.

  “Jesus. You’re all sweaty and clammy. Ya got the flu or somethin’?”

  Jack shook his head, shoved the bag aside and sat down.

  “Okay then, spill it. I’ve been takin’ calls from the studio all day for ya. Can’t ya tell me what’s goin’ on? Maybe I can help.”

  She plopped down on one of the large throw pillows in front of him, tucked her feet under her legs, then wrapped her feathered satin robe tighter around her.

  Jack knew he had to look like a crazy person. His mind wouldn’t slow down. He had never wished for Nick as hard as he did right then. The only thing that would calm him would be the safety of Nick’s arms. Nick would shush him and tell him everything would be okay as he held him tight. Jack choked back a sob.

  “Oh my God. Now you’re really worryin’ me. Ya know, if you don’t like the shoes, just take them back.”

  Jack buried his face in his hands.

  I’m surrounded by crazy people. Shoes? God dammit, Nick, why aren’t you here to help me through this?

  Jack looked up at Trixie, and she suddenly seemed like a complete stranger to him. Everything seemed topsy-turvy. It was if he weren’t himself anymore, and was changing into another person that he didn’t recognise.

  Roman had his tongue in my ear.

  No matter how much he was attracted to the screen god, he didn’t go with anyone just for sex. Other than the gropings with another boy at the orphanage, Nick had been his only sexual partner, and he had been in love with him for a long time before Nick had ever even touched him.

  And I still love him.

  Trixie would have a fit if he said anything about that. Her constant reminders that they were both better off was not something he was interested in hearing at the moment.

  “Well?”

  Jack put his hands down and tried to relax.

  Maybe another drink.

  Although, he attributed some of the current mess he was in to the fact that he’d let his guard down after too many mint juleps. No doubt that had been part of Roman’s plan. He’d have to be really careful around him from now on.

  “I was out with Roman.”

  Trixie gasped. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out quite like that, but he was too worn out from the stress of the day to be coy. Trixie slapped his knee. “Why, Jack, ya sly dog. Here ya had me all worried, and you was out cattin’ around with Roman Pasquale.”

  Jack snorted. “I was not. He showed up unexpectedly at the lunch with Global, and joined us.”

  “Oh, did he now? Huh, how about that.” Trixie looked down at her fingernails, seemingly uninterested all of a sudden.

  “Ya wanna hear about this or not?” Jack couldn’t figure out what her problem was. First she practically attacked him for information, then she acted like she couldn’t care less.

  “Yeah, honey, sorry. Go on. What happened next? Did he take you back to his place? Ooh, this is too excitin’.”

  “Jesus, Trixie—no! How could you say that? You know I still love Nick.” It had escaped his mouth before he could stop it. But it was the truth, and he couldn’t change it.

  Trixie grabbed her hair as if she was going to rip it out. “I swear Jack Stone, I am gonna have a heart attack and die from ya one a these days. So what was the two a yas doin’ all this time. Knittin’?”

  Jack couldn’t help but giggle. An image of him and Roman knitting in the speakeasy popped into his head. “Of course not. He wanted to know where I got my hat. He complimented your taste by the way…”

  Trixie put one hand across her chest and smiled, obviously pleased with that piece of information.

  “…so we went to Melrose, did some shopping, and he…”

  Jack paused. It had all seemed to make sense at the time that Roman had bought him the shoes, but there with Trixie after what had happened at the club, Jack was sure it would come across rather sordid.

  “What? He did what?”

  “Umm, well, he got me these shoes. God, I should give them back. It was a huge mistake.”

  “What the hell ya talkin’ about? He wanted ya to have ‘em, so ya keep ‘em.”

  “I just don’t think it’s such a good idea after what happened at the club.”

  “Jack, I’m dyin’ over here. Out with it already.”

  “I think he likes me. I know that seems silly—someone as amazing as he is—but we went to this club. After we’d been there a while, he held my hand and…he stuck his tongue in my ear.”

  Trixie sat straight up, eyes wide, then hooted with laughter, smacking her knees. She fell over on her side, rolled on her back and clutched her stomach, all whilst still carrying on. Jack mulled on what he’d just said. It did sound kind of funny out of context. Roman Pasquale, the great screen idol of women everywhere, sticking his tongue in little nobody Jack Stone’s ear. In public. At a club. Of course there had been much more to it than that, but Jack wasn’t going to share every intimate detail of their moments together.

  He laughed along with her. Finally, she got hold of herself and sat back up, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “I’m sure a few other things happened before he rammed his tongue in ya. Oh Jesus, that was hilarious. I kept imagining him just jumpin’ ya and shovin’ it right in. Oh God, that was the funniest thing I heard in a long time. But seriously now, it’s obvious he likes ya. I don’t think ya could be any luckier than to have that stud after ya. I’d fuck him in a heartbeat if he ever gave a girl a chance. Anyone would. Don’t deny yourself a little fun just cuz you’re still hurtin’. You’re a healthy good-lookin’ guy, enjoy yourself. Plus, he’s richer than God. Can’t go wrong there.”

  “That’s exactly why I should give the shoes back. I don’t want him buyin’ me.”

  Trixie harrumphed and stood up. She sauntered to the built-in cabinet that held all the house liquor, and pulled out the tray. She poured herself a straight gin, not even getting some ice, and knocked it back. She poured a second one as Jack watched her with increasing anxiety.

  He thought about what he’d said. “Geez, Trixie. I didn’t mean nothin’ bad by that. I just…”

  She swirled the liquid in the glass she held. “Yeah, you’re just too good for the rest of us, huh Jack?”

  “What? No, Trixie, that’s not what I meant. You know how much I admire ya. I always have from the very first time we met. You’re a beautiful, excitin’ ingénue. Didn’t I always say you’d be famous? Now here ya are, gettin’ ready to star with Roman in a big movin’ picture.”

  Trixie took another swallow of her drink, and smiled. “Yeah I am, ain’t I?”

  “Sure ya are. All I was sayin’ is that I ain’t ready to accept gifts from Roman or anybody else right now. I ain’t got Nick outta my system yet. You understand, right?”

  “Sure, honey. Don’t worry about it.” She snapped back into her jolly mode. “So what happened after the whole tongue thing? You guys didn’t just leave it like that did ya?”

  “No.” Jack remembered how Roman had caught up to him as he was vainly trying to find a cab to hail.

  “Jack. I am so sorry, please don’t break my heart by leaving like this. Let me give you a ride home. You can sit in the front seat so that you don’t have to worry about what I might do.”

  Jack had felt really bad then. He couldn’t imagine how he could ever be capable of breaking Roman Pasquale’s heart, but he had decided to get in the car anyway. They hadn’t spoken the entire way back, but when they’d arrived at Trixie’s, Roman had leant forward and whispered, “Thank you for the lovely day. I look forward to seeing you on the set.”

  Jack had merely nodded and choked out a thank you for the shoes and drinks, then run inside Trixie’s building and right up the stairs. He hadn’t even bothered with the troublesome
elevator.

  “So? What happened?”

  Jack shook his head to bring himself back to the present. “He brought me home, and said he’d see me on the set.”

  “Oh. Well that ain’t so excitin’ an end to the story. Say, that reminds me. We gotta call Charlie up and find out if he can meet up with you tomorrow to sign those contracts. After that, we gotta swing by Global for some costume fittins. They called me earlier. Do you remember when they said we’d start shootin’? I can’t remember whether they said so or not. Oh well, I guess if we don’t show up, they’ll call us.” She laughed at her own remark.

  Jack couldn’t focus on what she was saying. He’d latched on to the part where she’d talked about meeting up with Charlie. The studio lawyer was the last person he ever wanted to see again.

  “You okay, honey? Ya look a little pale.”

  “Do I really have to see Charlie? Can’t he just send the contracts over, and I can sign them and send them back?”

  Trixie had a puzzled look on her face. Then she nodded. “Oh, now I get it. Are you embarrassed cuz a the stuff he paid you and Nick to do?”

  Jack nodded, regretting that they even had to bring the subject up. They had been so drugged out and full of booze at the time that Jack hadn’t had a problem with what they were doing. He’d also been motivated by the need to keep Nick from selling himself to take care of Jack. But now that it was all over, he certainly didn’t want to discuss it. Or do business with the man who had watched him have sex.

  “What are ya worried about? I had the guy’s cock in my mouth, and we go over contracts all the time. He never even touched you. Besides, how do ya think he feels? You know all about his perversions and stuff.”

  Jack pondered that. It seemed logical, yet it wasn’t helping him feel any less awkward about it. But if it was the price he had to pay for what he’d done, he would just have to accept it. If he could just figure out how to handle the situation with Roman.

  * * * *

  Roman vigorously ass-fucked a young yellow-haired acting hopeful on the large bed of his master suite. It was somewhere around eleven o’clock at night, and he had waited for almost two hours for Hector to produce a man that even remotely looked like Jack. Roman had finally accepted the one he was currently pounding, but he’d really had to make do. At first the young actor had fellated him, but he could still see his face. It was nothing at all like Jack’s pure countenance. Roman’s solution had been to hold the man down on his stomach by the back of his neck. From there, he’d bent the man’s leg at the knee, and pushed his cock all the way into him.

  Roman cried out, and after jerking the last drops of jizz into his evening’s entertainment, he abruptly pulled from him. He took a towel from the white lacquer nightstand, and wiped himself off. His date rolled over and gazed at Roman through dreamy eyes.

  “That was fucking incredible, Mr Pasquale. Do you want to suck my dick?”

  Roman grunted. “Actually, I would prefer if you left. Hector will ensure you have a ride home.”

  Roman turned his back to whatever-his-name-was and entered the black and white marbled bathroom to take a shower. The man insisted on pleading with him. It was always so annoying when they did that.

  “But, Mr Pasquale, I don’t mind staying. How about I suck your dick? Whatever you want, you can fuck me all you want…”

  Oh God.

  Roman picked up the receiver of the gold-plated phone he kept in the bathroom for these very occasions. He dialled the inside line.

  “Hector, could you please escort the young gentleman that’s in my room out immediately. Give him the money I have in the cigarette box and make sure he gets home.”

  Roman could hear the would-be actor still yelling, and he could tell the man was getting ready to press his case in the bathroom. Roman shut the door and locked it. Within seconds, he was banging on the door.

  “Hey! You can’t just ignore me like that. I let you do that perverted stuff to me. I’m not a queer, I just want to get in the pictures. What gives you the right?”

  Roman used to argue back with them, but it was pointless and took up too much of his energy. It was amazing to him how none of them were queer until they were willing to sell themselves for something they wanted. More perplexing still was how experienced they were at sucking cock and taking it up the ass, yet they all claimed that with Roman it was the very first time they’d ever done it. They were all players in the same twisted game as he was.

  Roman stepped under the solid gold faucets of his black marble shower stall. Spray heads pointed at him from three directions, and it was large enough in there to accommodate four people comfortably. He knew, as he’d tested it once or twice before. There was a bench built in to one side, which added to the convenience when he used the roomy cubicle for purposes other than just washing off.

  He’d had a release, and yet he still felt a longing. It was Jack. Everything for him anymore had to do with Jack. He needed him.

  My own damn fault.

  He shouldn’t have been so hasty, but he’d already had to control himself all day being around the delectable creature. Filled with the sweet mint juleps, and seeing Jack look so vulnerable had done something to him. The urge to embrace and comfort him had taken hold, and he’d gone too far. Now Roman was filled with dread that he might have chased Jack away for good. That was not a feeling he was accustomed to at all. Roman took whatever he wanted, whether it wanted to be taken or not. He’d always found a way to convince whoever it was that they had to give him what he desired. It could be a movie role, an object or a sexual conquest. It didn’t matter—it was his if he so chose.

  There was something else about Jack. It had hit him after he’d arrived home and had been lounging in his room waiting for his fuck to arrive. Jack didn’t think the way that most people did in Hollywood. He was genuine, sincere. The very thing that had appealed to Roman in the first place might be his undoing. He would have to figure out how to reach Jack on that level.

  Roman shut off the water and grabbed a fluffy white towel. He noted that his contemplation of Jack had caused his erection to return. It was interesting, since he only ever came more than once in a night when he was coked up at one of his parties.

  Jack was unique indeed.

  Chapter Six

  Somehow Jack had managed to make it through the humiliating meeting with Charlie to sign the contracts. It hadn’t been so bad after all. The lawyer never looked at him strange, or referred to their debauched evenings together. The only awkward moment had been when Jack had asked how come he and the studio were using the same lawyer.

  Charlie had cleared his throat, and Trixie had elbowed him in the side.

  “Well, Jack, the studios have been in business for so long, they know what’s best.”

  That had made sense. Jack certainly wouldn’t know the difference one way or the other.

  But now it was early morning on the first day of shooting, and he was waiting whilst Trixie took her morning toot in the bathroom. He couldn’t understand why she always had to be out at parties or gin joints every night. Knowing he had to be up by five a.m. and ready to leave by five thirty, he had stayed in. Before he’d lain himself down on Trixie’s throw pillows at nine o’clock, he had spent the evening practising his facial expressions and hand gestures in the mirror. Then he’d styled his hair a few different ways, and checked to see which was the best angle for his face. He’d finally decided that he liked his hair parted a little to the side and slicked back.

  Just like Roman.

  That was Jack’s main concern that morning. What to do about Roman. He had skilfully avoided thoughts of Roman all week except for when he dreamt of him at night. More than once he’d had to go clean himself after a particularly delicious fantasy with Roman’s hands and mouth all over his naked body.

  Jack wiped sweat off his forehead. If Trixie didn’t hurry, they’d be late.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Dammit, the driver.
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  “Hey, Trix! The driver’s here.”

  “I’m comin’. Tell him ta hold his horses!”

  Jack went to the door and opened it. The same driver whom Jack had yelled at the night of Roman’s party stood before him.

  The day’s off to a great start.

  “Sorry, we’ll be out in just a minute.”

  The man nodded, expressionless, and turned on his heel to leave.

  Jack had only ever done a couple of smaller parts before—one was really just a glorified extra—so it was a momentous morning for him. A battle raged inside him between the excitement of being in a big movie, wondering how to deal with Roman, and wishing that Nick were there with him.

  At last, Trixie stumbled out of the bathroom wiping her nose. It looked like they would only be about fifteen minutes late if he could steer her out of the door immediately.

  “Whoo! I’m ready for tha cameras, baby. What are ya dilly-dallyin’ for? Let’s go!”

  Jack shook his head.

  Only Trixie.

  Roman tapped his fingers on his dressing table. He had his own personal room at the studio. It was never used by any other actor, even if Roman never set foot on the lot for a month. It was seven a.m. and he was due on the set in thirty minutes. He had already had makeup applied, and was in his costume—yet another exotic outfit to make his character as an Egyptian scoundrel searching for illicit treasure complete. He picked up the red tasselled tarboosh hat that he was to wear. He tried to cross his legs, but was restricted by the fabric of the ankle-length robe. To be sure, there would be plenty of scenes with Trixie Fox where his chest would be exposed, but he didn’t want to dwell on that at the moment.

  The only thoughts that mattered were the ones of Jack.

  Ever since the bad ending to their first day together, Roman had been carefully planning how to make his next move. He had some definite ideas on how to handle Jack for the time being, but he needed to get the overly talkative Trixie to reveal more information on his quarry. He didn’t have time to fool around anymore by drawing out the information delicately. He had to come up with the perfect answer.