CHAPTER FOUR

I could hear the Sap ranting through the dressing room door.

"…so what's the fucking point of me wasting my time working out your sets if you're just going to fucking change it whenever you feel like it?"

"I didn't change the whole set, Gary. It was one song." The kid sounded bored and tired.

"Yes, and it messed up the mood of the whole set! You were supposed to finish with Autumn Leaves! The Fleetwood Mac number was too fucking modern!"

"Modern … Christ," Sirius muttered. "It's older than I am."

I could hear the sound of clothing being removed and briefly imagined the kid standing there in just his shorts, all that pale, glowing flesh uncovered …

I shook away the image.

"It was a song, Gary," Sirius went on. "A sad song, just like all the others. You're only pissed because I sang something you hadn't chosen, that's all. Anyway, the audience loved it … you heard them."

"Don't try and tell me what the audience loves. I know what the fucking audience loves, right? How many times do I have to say it … you have to project an image the public identify with, one they recognise, and…"

"Yeah, I know," Sirius replied shortly. "But it's your image, remember? NOT mine. It was NEVER mine!"

I heard something that sounded like a muffled curse and then some scuffling sounds. I decided I'd better cool things down inside so I knocked sharply: there was a brief silence before I heard footsteps approaching and the door was thrown open, revealing an angry and flustered looking Saperstein.

"Hi," I said sweetly.

"Brian." He swallowed a couple of times before stepping aside and gesturing me in. Sirius was standing with his back to me, pulling a grey hoodie over the baggy fawn cargoes he was already wearing. He turned as I entered, and my first thought was that I'd been wrong: his eyes truly were that amazing shade of blue. My second was that the left side of his face looked a lot redder than the right. His blond hair was mussed and beautiful.

"Sirius," Saperstein said with a strained smile, reaching out to lay a hand on the kid's shoulder. "This is Brian Kinney, the guy I told you about."

Sirius moved casually to one side so that the Sap's hand barely made contact. It could have been accidental, but I didn't think so. "Oh yes. My babysitter," he acknowledged, and there was no mistaking the resentment in his tone, or in his expression.

"Pleased to meet you." I gave him my best smile and held out my hand. For a moment I didn't think he was going to return the gesture; eventually he did, although the resulting brief touch of palms was almost as insulting as if he hadn't bothered at all.

Saperstein cleared his throat. "Baby, I've explained to you …"

"I know." Sirius turned abruptly and sat down at the dresser, where he began to fix his hair with a comb. "Mr. Kinney is going to be my 'aide'" – he made the air-quote with his voice and not his fingers – "while you're gone. Just in case I fall asleep in the bath and drown, or choke myself to death on a pretzel, or electrocute myself on the toaster."

"Or get your fucking ass arrested again!" Saperstein yelled, a vein pulsing above his right eye.

Sirius turned to look at him. "Yes," he agreed unemotionally. "Or that."

There was a prolonged silence: the Sap glaring, his lips thinned with anger, while Sirius gazed inscrutably back. "Well," I said at last. "Let's assume none of that's going to happen, shall we?"

Sirius' blue gaze met mine in the mirror. "Don't worry, Mr. Kinney. I won't cause you any trouble." He returned his attention to smoothing his hair.

Okay, I know who I am. I know how I look. Modesty isn't a virtue that even my closest friends would admit to my having. I'm used to seeing envy or desire, resentment or even hate in the faces of men and women, gay or straight. What I'm not used to is … no reaction at all. Zip. Nada. I know I'm any gay boy's wet dream, and yet those beautiful eyes looked at me with all the dispassion of someone putting salt on a slug. For a moment I wondered whether the kid might not actually be straight after all, but I instantly dismissed the idea – my gaydar had been bleeping deafeningly since the moment I'd laid eyes on him.

"So, Brian," Saperstein said, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm flying out early next Saturday, so I'll expect you, say, Friday afternoon. That'll give me time to show you around and get you settled in before I leave."

I nodded. "How long do you expect to be gone?"

"That'll depend on how things turn out. I won't know until I've had some meetings," Saperstein replied off-handedly, his eyes still fixed on the slight figure seated at the dresser. "Maybe only a couple of days, but I might be gone for a week or so. I take it that won't be a problem?"

"Not at all," I replied, although my heart was sinking rapidly. Okay, so I hadn't picked up any signs from the kid's looks, speech or general demeanour that he might be

unstable or a chronic user, but he was obviously hostile to the idea of my presence and wasn't even attempting to hide it. A week of pussy-footing around a sulky teenager? It was going to be hell.

"Fine, fine. I'll see you Friday, then." He patted my shoulder and I resisted the urge to shrug him off in the same way the kid had. "Now, Sirius and I have a few things to discuss, so I'll have to leave you to make your own way out." He was already at the door, pointedly letting me know he wanted me gone. I threw a quick glance at Sirius to see if he would react to my departure, but he paid no attention at all. He probably hadn't even been listening. I said goodnight as I walked out of the room and Saperstein closed the door on me.

I'd been dismissed.

I paused as the voices started up again inside, but I didn't try to work out what they were saying. From what I'd heard, Sirius was capable of giving as good as he got and I really didn't want to know the dynamics of whatever kind of fucked-up relationship they had. All I wanted was to get back to Liberty Avenue and find some hot ass to take my frustrations out on.

As far as I was concerned, the pimp and his toyboy probably deserved each other.

TBC