Obviously, he wasn't the first Red X.
Nor was Robin.
The first Red X wasn't a hero or a villain but Xing Fu Lee's grandfather with the same name, Xing Fu Lee, as Red X well knew.
It was 1950 and the Lees lived in China near the border with North Korea. It was a brutal life barely above subsistence and kept that way by the communist dictatorship that now ruled the country. Xing Fu Lee was one of four boys in their family, all of whom were summarily conscripted into the chinese army. The "People's" Army they called it, though Xing Fu couldn't seem to find any people who much wanted to be in it. Oh, there were some idiots who believed the propaganda about protecting the mother country from the american devils. The dumbest boys seemed to be taken in by that but hardly anyone else. But like any dictatorship, it didn't work by offering choices, unless you considered death to be a good alternative. You were going to fight the americans or they'd kill you back there in China. So, they went to fight the americans, the four Lees.
Despite the lack of any choice, the brutal officers still kept inundating the soldiers with propaganda about how terrible, how evil the americans were. Maybe some of the soldiers bought it. But it eventually occurred to Xing Fu Lee that if these horrible officers hated these . . "americans", wasn't that a point in favor of the americans?
He kept this conjecture to himself as they marched miles and miles over the border into North Korea and finally attacked the americans. But the way they did it was so brutal and insane, and showed such indifference to the lives of the soldiers that Xing Fu would have shot at his officers if he could just get a gun. They didn't all have guns. They all had bullets which they carried in all their pockets. they assumed they were going to be issued rifles near the front. But there were not enough guns to go around. So, the officers' solution was that the first man in a line of soldiers would advance toward the americans shooting a rifle. When he was shot, the next man was to pick up his rifle and advance and shoot the americans, until he was shot. At which point the third man was to pick up the rifle . . . etc etc
Looking across a valley of lives being wasted, Xing Fu Lee vowed then and there to shoot the officers who would make men do such an insane thing. He thought his brothers must be feelings simillarly but couldn't tell. His brothers had been separated from him. The chinese army did not like you to have attachments that might mean more to you than your fear of your officers. He thought he saw one of them killed off to his right and frantically tried to scheme a way out of this nightmare as he got closer and closer to the rifle. As he approached, a thought occurred to him. At last he was the next man. He picked up the rifle from the dying man, blood gurgling out of the poor man's mouth, and he immediately went down as well, the rifle flying from his hands before he could bring it to his shoulder to shoot even once. He lay there for hours, till darkness, burning with rage that the "People's" Army wasn't even trying to save the lives of the wounded.
Luckily, he wasn't one of them. He hadn't been shot. He waited till 2 a.m. then crawled to the american lines. He was nearly shot there. One jittery GI was going to shoot him despite his raised hands but another stopped him. "Surrender. Surrender," he kept repeating using the word he had heard american soldiers would use. They weren't exactly delicate with him. One slammed him to the ground with a rifle butt to the shoulder as he was led past the man's dead friend. But eventually they brought him back behind the lines and had him speak to an interpreter. They gave him food, better food than the chinese army was giving him. And he told them all he could.
He also told them that he wasn't just a prisoner. He wanted to be an american, he said. The chinese had let his brothers be killed without caring about it. And in just a few minutes behind the lines, he saw helicopters flying in to take wounded american soldiers off to M.A.S.H. units. He'd never seen a helicopter before. But the americans would fly these giant mechanical dragon flies to the front lines for each and every wounded man, not just officers, anyone! Anyone! This meant something. They didn't tell men to line up fifty deep with pockets full of bullets behind one man with a rifle. They didn't leave them dying in the dirt. They flew these giant mechanical dragon flies in to save the wounded men. This meant something. This was better. The way these men were living was better. The men, themselves, were the same. They were smart and dumb and good and bad and kind and cruel, just like in China. Anyone could see that. But the way they were living was better. Xing Fu Lee begged the interpreter. Don't make me go back. This, pointing to everything around him, the tents, the jeeps, the helicopter, this is how I want to live. The interpreter nodded.
For two years, Xing Fu Lee worked with the army as an interpreter, interrogating captured chinese soldiers. At first, the americans looked over his shoulders suspiciously but he quickly built up a remarkable record of getting soldiers to divulge information. He sympathized with them about how the Chinese army and government was mistreating them and established a sincere rapport. Many jaws at first clenched shut opened, first reluctantly then readily in conversation with Xing Fu Lee.
After the war, he settled in Jump City, at the edge of Jump City's chinatown, again, not quite in one world or the other. He got a job in a factory and fell in love with a korean american girl. At the factory, too, he could feel suspicious eyes looking over his shoulder at first. A defector from commie China? What?! And there was another man at the factory named Xavier whom the other workers just called "X". As a joke about his background, they started calling him "Red X" to distinguish him from Xavier.
But no one actually doubted Xing Fu Lee's patriotism. He was a model citizen. He and his wife made sure their two sons worked harder than anyone else's kids and got through college as a doctor and lawyer, respectively. The younger son married a beautiful russian american girl, a ballerina at one time who was now also a lawyer. First they had a daughter, Alexandra, a russian style name of the mother's choice. Then, in 1988, they had a son they named "Xing Fu" to honor the boy's grandfather.
Little Xing Fu was special right from the start. He learned to talk faster than anyone else's baby. He learned to walk faster. He seemed to have come out of the womb with tremendous confidence. He was an inquisitive, happy little boy and all his relatives doted on him. But his parents were both working professionals and didn't have quite as much time for Xing Fu and his sister, Alexandra, as they would have wished. When he was four and going to nursery school, his older sister started taking ballet classes. To make her schedule a little easier, his mother put Xing Fu in the same ballet classes. His father worried about this. All he had ever heard was that the boys in ballet were sissies. Even just being considered a sissy was a very bad thing for a boy. He did not want such a reputation to rub off on little Xing Fu.
But nothing bad ever seemed to rub off on little Xing Fu. From the first they could remember, in play dates, nursery school and kindergarten, Xing Fu always led the other children. He was a very handsome boy with dark shiny hair and a strong face with just a hint of his father's background in the shape of his warm, light brown eyes. He was always among the smartest too. It helped that the Lees had a very intellectual, high culture household. They read to him and his sister and had walls covered with bookcases. He was way ahead of his classmates at the start of school and never lost that advantage.
And, somehow, to his father's relief, the ballet never meant anything. Just in case, his grandfather taught little Xing Fu martial arts. But the reputation of the ballet never seemed to tarnish their son. Quite the opposite. It wasn't that Xing Fu didn't care for it. He loved it. He loved leaping and spinning and showing off. He was terrific at it, as with everything else, right from the start.
He never made a secret of it at school or anywhere else. Xing Fu Lee was so confident in himself, he couldn't imagine being ashamed or scared to talk about something he did. Why should he be? He was the best at it, just like everything else. Besides, right from the beginning of school, Xing Fu was one of the most popular kids, one of the ones everyone wanted to be around. It was a curious thing that his classmates could see was odd when they talked with kids from other schools. But they just accepted it. That was Xing Fu Lee. As he got older and advanced through junior high school into high school, Xing Fu Lee, always just "X" now to all the kids in school, only further cemented his status as clearly one of the coolest kids in school. And yet everyone knew that he was taking ballet classes.
For the first several years, it sufficed that it was fun to jump around and he enjoyed showing off and the constant praise he got. And just as the satisfaction of that was starting to fade, X started feeling more and more appreciative of how wonderful it was to be surrounded by all these pretty girls. Thirty girls in class and only one boy, him! This was not only not bad. This was terrific! And all those pretty girls certainly liked to look at him. He'd haphazardly alternated wearing sweat pants, gym shorts and tights up to that point. But, now he only wore tights. He didn't feel self conscious at all. He was very comfortable surrounded by all those pretty girls. The first girl he kissed was one of the ballerinas outside the dance school. And the first time he had sex was with that same girl. And the second time was with another of the ballerinas, as was his first blow job. And so was the third, fourth, fifth and sixth. And the seventh through tenth were with a third ballerina and . . .
No, he didn't mind at all being seen in tights by all these girls. In fact, he couldn't imagine a better setup than the ballet class.
Going to a new school, entering 6th grade in junior high and then 9th grade in high school, was, each time, the occasion for idiots to try and call him gay and ridicule him. But his grandfather, Red X, had taught him martial arts on Sundays for years, in addition to telling his grandson all about his life. Getting a heel smashed into the side of your face over and over proved to be too high a price to pay to call a boy gay.
Besides which, Xing Fu's reputation was that he was anything but gay. Word was getting around. For years he had been the only boy in classes of 30 at the ballet school. The instructors could see at a glance that the slender Lee boy was a terrific athlete. It was hard enough to get boys in their classes, never mind boys with real athletic ability. That Xing Fu wasn't any sort of sissy was even better. That the boy radiated a sort of cool was more amazing still. The instructors at the Jump City school of ballet nearly had a fist fight over who would get Xing Fu Lee in their class. The boy had everything. He was very handsome with a slightly exotic, part asian look. He was incredibly graceful, better than the girls even at their exercises. He could leap better than the instructors dared hope. And he had that certain look. He looked good in costume. He was slender but he wasn't embarassed to be seen in pictures. If anything, the boy turned out to be something of an exhibitionist and certainly an extrovert. This was important in getting him to be in pictures in ads and newspaper stories to promote the school.
But, the instructors' smiles of pride were sometimes replaced by worrisome frowns. There was something about the boy, almost a predatory air to the attitude of cool that surrounded him. When the first whispers reached their ears, not a womanizer, they were girls, but ballerina-izer? Would that be the right term? When they first heard of what was going on, 22 out of 30 so far, or so it was said, they realized that they had known it all along. Xing Fu Lee and this ballerina. Xing Fu Lee and that ballerina. Pretty soon it was easier to try and figure out which ones were not rumored to have slept with Xing Fu Lee.
The instructors worried that it would tear classes apart with jealousy between the ballerinas or recriminations between them and X but nothing of the kind happened. Was this generation that different, they wondered. Could everyone really just be a friend with benefits? Or was it this boy?
One of the instructors pulled one of the top ballerinas aside after class one day and asked her, what kind of boy X was in school? The girl laughed. "Did you see that Ferris Buehler movie on TV the other night?"
The instructor said no but that she'd seen it before.
"Xing Fu Buehler," the ballerina laughed. "That's him. He practically runs the school in this secret way. Seriously. It's awesome. Any trouble you get in, X can get you out of it. You need a pass or a day off, you see X. The parents all think, because he does ballet and always says 'ma'am' and 'sir' that he's just this goody two shoes, top grades sort of boy, but behind the scenes," she laughed, "there's this whole other X."
The instructor nodded. Of course. She'd known it all along, hadn't she? But she'd been afraid to face it because this slender, incredibly handsome boy was so special as a dancer. The occasional smirk that she caught. The jokes she'd heard him tell. The way he'd stared down that boy picking up his sister after class, the one who'd said something to him, threatening him without a word and the way that other boy, a bigger one, had backed away. That was an insight. It wasn't a secret. They knew. Everyone knew. They knew it right away. It was part of his appeal. It was why the mothers no longer carpooled picking up their daughters but all showed up individually. And he always leaped over to let them look at him, didn't he? There'd been that marijuana cigarette that she'd found and berated all of them for and he'd stood up and taken the blame for it but she thought he was just being chivalrous and the whole thing sort of dropped. But the way the girls all looked at him when he'd stood up! Their expressions! Of course! It really was his, wasn't it?
The instructor had a long talk with Xing Fu about all of this a few weeks later. He didn't deny anything. But, worse, he barely seemed to care. That's what was shocking. After you stripped away the 'yes ma'am', the boy really didn't feel obliged to do much of anything on these counts. She wasn't sure what to say. There was a sense that he was beyond them now. He was nearly 16, 6 feet tall and a fantastic athlete and dancer. More than that, he had a certain charisma, a certain style that he exuded whether the role was light or dark. He inhabited the roles but with his own signature style.
Duende.
That was the word that that hispanic woman had blurted out smiling and watching him perform. Duende. He had duende. And the truth was they couldn't control him or teach him much more here.
She stared at him for several moments, standing there beside the mirrored wall, slightly smiling at her just now realizing the real situation. "Gotham City," she finally told him. The sky's the limit for you, Xing Fu. You've got the face the-the look, she blushed quickly raising her glance away from his . . hips; we've never had a boy who could dance like you here. We're not set up to help you take that next step. She unfolded the flyer in her pocket, that she'd printed from on line, an audition contest for a scholarship to the most prestigious company in Gotham City, one of the most prestigious in the world.
Xing Fu Lee's parents put him in his best suit and on a plane for Gotham for the audition. This was a new experience for X. He was not master and leader of this new environment. He would have to prove himself worthy.
There were 10 other boys there changing beside X in the dressing room at the Gotham City Ballet but he immediately crossed off 6 or 7 in his mind as not being real athletes and therefore not real competition. They would all have good technique, know when to point their toes, how their arms move, how their backs should arch. But who was an athlete, too? They all glanced warily at each other in the wings at the side of the stage while one after another they did some common steps and leaps and then some partnering with one of the prestigious company's star ballerinas. All of it was watched by the company director, some other executive and two men that X quickly recognized as a couple of the biggest stars in ballet. The "heir to Baryshnikov", one had been called, strawberry blond and just included in People Magazine's list of the 100 most beautiful people or so one boy had whispered. The other had been called the dark prince of dark princes or some such silly thing on a poster at the school back in Jump City. Both were in their mid 30's, near the very end of their runs at the top but certainly authorities.
X ended up going last. He kept moving around while the others went and got himself loose and warm. It was going pretty much as he'd expected. None of the people watching said "this kid's no good" or "this one's got it" or "he's the best yet". But the grading was clear even if it was all indirect, body language, tone of voice, smiles and the quality of the glances among the company director and the two mid 30's stars. It was clear that only the couple of others whom X had thought were competition had made much impression. The others sort of performed by rote even if they didn't make any flagrant mistakes. Then they called him, the secretary to the company director reading off a sheet on a clipboard.
"Okay, last one is, um, Zhing Fu Lee."
"Excuse me. It's Xing spelled with an X but sounds like a Z. Xing Fu Lee," he told the woman reading from the clipboard, his voice polite but deep, commanding not timid or offended, with an implied "it'll never happen again, will it?" She apologized and said it the right way. And then he auditioned. He gave it everything he had, every bit of concentration and athleticism at the same time. He'd never leaped higher, spun faster or did it all with such impeccable control. He carried and caught and presented the star ballerina like a proud lover and when he was done, she broke ranks with the apparent agreement among them to be non-committal.
"This one!" she said almost airily pointing at X. "I could dance with him tomorrow night. His hands are . . perfect. He's stronger than he looks and the-the way he lifts, the way he catches . . this one." She added a complimentary pat of X's white tighted behind which he took in stride.
The company director glanced at the two stars. 100MostBeautiful and Dark Prince nodded their agreement. X smirked at the other 10. The other boys grumbled and went back to the dressing room to change while X stayed on stage and talked to the ballerina and the two stars and then mostly the company director. After shaking hands with the company director, he made his way back to the locker room, almost walking right past 100MostBeautiful and Dark Prince.
They told him to come with them after he changed. He followed them into a cab that took them to one of Gotham City's most expensive restaurants. The staff seemed very familiar with both the established stars. They introduced him as "Xing Fu Lee, the next great star of the ballet world". Everyone fawned over him and nobody seemed to care that they were serving expensive champagne to a 16 year old. The two stars spent the night, there and at two successive exclusive clubs telling him what they had learned about being a star. They told him about how it was especially important for him to partner the ballerinas better than the other guys. They told him that it didn't matter if he wasn't feeling particularly good some night, he was the star. He was the reason people had bought tickets. He had to wow them, not just be okay. He had to amaze them even when he didn't feel his best. They told him about his responsibility to the company but they cautioned him not to make the same mistakes they'd both made. Don't let them tie you up with a long term contract when you first become a star. See what other companies will offer you. It might be fine to settle down in your late 20's with one ballet company but don't let them tie you up so that you give all your best, most athletic years to one company such that people in other cities, other countries don't get to see you in person. When you have the leverage, put the hammer to them, Xing Fu. Put the hammer to them.
X was taken aback. It was incredibly generous of these two established stars to be taking time to give him the benefit of their experience. For a few moments after auditioning, he thought he'd seen them give him looks that were, perhaps, envious, envious that he was 16 years old and likely to be a better dancer and bigger star than either of them had ever been. They had only a year or two, tops left as stars and he had all his glory ahead of him. He drank more champagne feeling quite blessed.
His two mentors introduced him as the "next great star of the ballet world" at both the clubs, too. They couldn't have been nicer to him, giving him advice and buying him champagne. Perhaps the first sign of anything else was the glance that went between them when he retrieved some girl's balloon from the ceiling of the second club. It was her birthday or bat mitzvah or . . something. She came in with a bunch of helium balloons. Some popped and her last one floated up to the abnormally high ceiling of the club.
"I'll get it," smiled Dark Prince, leaping in his dress pants and print shirt. But he came up short.
100MostBeautiful gave a patronizing smile and patted his fellow star on the shoulder. I'll get it, he said, taking off his suit coat before jumping but he couldn't touch it either.
Xing Fu Lee finished a flute of champagne and jumped up from his seat without removing his jacket. "I'll get it easy," he grinned, then took one running step, leaped and palmed the balloon . He walked over and handed it to the girl with great ceremony and saw dark looks in the eyes of his two mentors. He sat down a bit uncomfortably but soon enough the mood was festive again.
The next morning, there he was, on the flight back to Jump City, again sitting down uncomfortably, sore where he'd never been sore before. Finally, he smirked. The irony. All those idiots back in Jump, all those years who'd called him names while he was boinking their sisters and their girlfriends and the girls who wouldn't have anything to do with them, all those idiots, some of whom he'd beaten up, all those idiots he'd proven wrong. And now he was leaving them all behind in his dust but last night . . . He rolled his eyes. It was definitely ironic. But, it almost felt like a freebie, a mulligan. Every guy in ballet's supposed to be . . . Soooooo . . .
Still, he didn't feel different. A young stewardess went by. Outstanding, he thought, smiling at her. She looked great in that skirt. What a booty on her! And that was it. He still didn't feel . . gay. Even if it hadn't been that bad. Maybe X's self-confidence was too strong to take much of a dent from one night. At any rate, he went home and got congratulations from his family and everyone at the ballet school on the full scholarship, everyone at high school, too. He was leaving all of them for the next phase of his life. He already felt like Jump City was a part of his past, somehow vaguely not worthy of him. The Gotham City Ballet was the present.
X flew with a single suitcase full of stuff back to Gotham City and moved into a dorm-like apartment six stories up from Gotham City Ballet's offices. He shared a room with another boy whom he quickly saw was very interested in him. X wasn't interested in him and made that clear but needed to see that that boy was out of there as much as possible so as to not cramp his style. He did what he could to pair his roomate up with another boy. He needed to be able to bring girls back there. For, as complete as his dedication was to honing his craft and becoming stronger and faster, X was just as dedicated to pursuit of the ballerinas at the school. And now there was a whole new roster of them, none of whom he knew and who were even prettier than the girls in Jump City. And just as completely as he succeeded in the former mission, he succeeded in the latter.
His dark, slightly exotic good looks and the masculine air he had about him, so different from most of the other boys in the ballet school, appealed to the ballerinas, as did the fact that he was a better dancer than all the other boys. He partnered so well, carrying them with such graceful ease, his hands always in exactly the right place, comfortable and firm but never soft. It was natural for them to think that X might be a wonderful partner in . . other ways, as well.
His roommate eventually complained about how often X was asking him to leave so that he could be alone with Natasha or Stephanie or Suzanne or Zoe or Chloe or . . who was it this week, he whined. X offered a deal to pay him to leave. He said if that wasn't good enough, he'd just screw the girls five feet away while the roomate lay there in his bed. The roomate threatened to tell school officials if he did. X looked the shorter, willowy blond boy in the eye and promised to beat him to a bloody pulp if he snitched on him then repeated the offer of money to leave. The roomate's voice cracked as he said he'd take the money.
School officials had some sense of what was going on, at least that's what X thought, but things stayed just quiet enough. As he had in Jump City, he was sure to be charming and sophisticated and to always make clear to every girl right at the start that this was just for today or tonight. This wasn't forever. In both places, there had been a girl or two who simply wouldn't go for that. All the others would. So, the sweep and scope of his conquests stayed quiet enough that it didn't become an issue for the school. And the sense that he was their next big star was clear to everyone. Standards were different. His technique was impeccable and he had an amazing leap. His spins were incredible. He never seemed to get dizzy or lose his reference point. He had as good body control as anyone under contract with the ballet company. On top of all that, he had the look, slender but very athletic, with an amazing ass in the words of one girl, and the right face, slightly exotic for being half asian. It was a face that would definitely sell tickets. Lots of them.
He could see it in the eyes of the school officials and the company director when they looked at him or talked about him. If we can just keep him under control . .
At first, they seemed to intend to do so by starving him, starving him of recognition. The few roles they gave him were the tiniest ones, parts in which it was impossible to show promise. Stand at the back of a crowd scene and literally do nothing. Just be another body. Still, the audience applauded the first time he strode on stage. They'd heard about this Xing Fu Lee, the boy who got the full scholarship. Word had got around. But they got no chance to really see him or what he could do. The company put the clamps on him by giving him nothing for roles. When a decent role for one of the boys at the company's school occasionally came up, they let another boy play it and assigned Xing Fu Lee to be the star's understudy instead. He would only appear on stage if the company's star got hurt that night, in that performance.
Early in that night's performance, 100MostBeautiful, the "heir to Baryshnikov", landed just slightly off and tore something in his knee. Luckily it had happened right at the end of the first act and he'd been able to grimace and remain standing and not simply crumple to the stage while the audience could see. The curtain went down and the star limped over then sat down unable to even walk further. X approached him, standing over him. The star groaned in pain as he looked at him. Finally X stuck out his hand, not offering a hand up but demanding the star's red velvet top. They had made visible last minute changes to the collar and that top had to be worn by the dancer on stage. Some of those watching thought it was cold. One ballerina said something to X as he fastened the last snap at the collar. X ignored her.
But the audience couldn't ignore him. Where was 100MostBeautiful?! At first they were almost indignant. We paid our money to see 100MostBeautiful! Where is he?! "Who's this new guy?" asked the casual fans who didn't know how he'd been touted.
But gradually, the audience quieted. And slowly they become more and more fascinated with the understudy. Who was he, leaping like that, and so charismatic? The name was whispered through the audience. Xing Fu Lee. Xing Fu Lee. And when the strains of Tchaikovsky reached their closing crescendo, they were standing and cheering, shouting "bravo" to a bowing Xing Fu Lee.
The write up in the paper the next day was headlined, "Amazing New Star Debuts". X bought extra copies for his parents and sister. They asked, on the phone, what this meant for him. Would he get a big contract offer from the company now and get to dance lead roles? X told them what the aging stars had told him. The company would offer him a long term contract now. On the other end of the line X's mother and father congratulated him. But, he told them, he wouldn't sign anything long term. He had the leverage now. He'd start contacting the leading ballet companies in other cities around the world. Paris, London, Moscow, St. Petersburg, etc. His parents tried to talk him out of it, suggesting he pursue security. He wouldn't listen.
Just as he expected, the officials at the Gotham City Ballet called him down at the end of class the next afternoon. He didn't even change. He went down there still in tights.
"Yes?" he asked in his best faked innocence entering the company director's ornately appointed office.
The director and two other officials had him sit down in a chair lower than theirs and, in a tone of great generosity, offered him a 7 year contract. Security. He didn't even look at the dollar amounts involved. He told them no.
They weren't used to being rebuffed by students from their school being offered contracts. They usually got to play Santa Claus in such instances. But X didn't believe in Santa Claus. They didn't take well to the new experience he was giving them.
"One performance! One performance!" they eventually shouted at him in exasperation. "Where do you get the nerve to try and call all the shots after one performance?" they demanded of X, voices bouncing of the supremely expensive decor. But no matter how they shouted or tried to intimidate him, the teen remained frustratingly calm, impervious to their pressure.
"Well, gee, sirs, you want to give me a contract after one performance. Why should I believe that Paris and London and the Kirov and Bolshoi won't?"
"It doesn't work that way, Xing Fu! We-we scouted you! We developed you! We know all about you!"
X smirked for reasons they didn't understand.
"We might not make you this offer in six more months, X, when you turn 17 and you can legally go to all those other places."
He chuckled. "I'll take my chances," said X.
They called him a lot of names before letting him out of the office They didn't give him quite as many lead roles in those six months as they should have but he was still the sensation of the season. The biggest stars in ballet had always come from overseas. Finally, the biggest star was being developed here. It was a whirlwind six months. Patrons of the arts and other people wanted to introduce X to the high society life of New York. They wanted to be his friend and be seen as being his friend.
The best restaurants.
The most exclusive clubs.
The richest arts philanthropists in the most expensive homes in Gotham City. He was introduced to them all. He was the bright new star of a particular niche in the entertainment world. But, still, it was a pretty small niche, even if handsome Xing Fu Lee might increase its market appeal a bit.
Then came the blocks. And he increased its market appeal a lot.
There was probably nothing he could have done to increase that market appeal more than the blocks. They came about during the filming of a commercial. 100MostBeautiful was represented by the same talent agency as the people producing a certain commercial and the same ones who represented NBA star Kobe Bryant. Kobe Bryant was still trying to rehabilitate his image after the incident in which he was charged with rape in Colorado. Though the woman had eventually decided not to testify, there were rumors about intimidation tactics by Kobe Bryant's entourage. He was also seen by a lot of fans as being a divisive personality who was contemptuous of teammates. There was a lot of room for image improvement.
JUMP was the group's name, a charity serving city kids that, like a lot of others, came up with a name just to fit a catchy acronym.
Juvenile Urban Mentor Program. J.U.M.P.
The script for the commercial called for both Kobe Bryant and a ballet star to say a few corny words together after some narration about the charity had been played over footage of them both jumping. But, 100MostBeautiful was injured and couldn't film it. A few other dancers at the company were offered the chance to take his place before the job was given to X. The company's officials told a different story to X when they offered it to him. The company director tried to make it sound like a gift because they thought so highly of X. But he'd heard the rumors of the real reasons. Five other guys had been offered it but didn't want it, because it paid almost nothing and there was a feeling that they'd be humiliated by the comparison to Kobe Bryant, standing there in tights next to him.
X just laughed. He wasn't intimidated.
He didn't play basketball and barely knew who Kobe Bryant was, at least till the night before the filming of the commercial. But that night he reviewed a bunch of clips of Bryant playing, noting exactly how he tended to jump.
When he showed up on the set the next day, X was wearing the same white tights and gold and white velvet top he'd worn in his last performance. Kobe Bryant smirked while shaking X's hand, snickering at his white tights.
"Damn!"
"Nice to meet you, Cabby," said X.
"It's Kobe," replied the 6 foot 6 basketballer.
X just shrugged. If the guy was going to make fun of his costume, he'd give the guy contempt right back. He complimented him on his kilt. Kobe Bryant demanded to know what a kilt was. A skirt for guys, X told him with an implied "of course".
"They're shorts!" complained the NBA star.
"Then why are they as long as my sister's skirts that go with her business suits?"
"They're shorts!" repeated the NBA star before grumbling something about how ridiculous it was that he was being made fun of by a guy in tights and adding "we all wear 'em like this."
"Okay, okay. Didn't know you were so sensitive. Sorry Koko."
"Kobe!"
"Right."
The crew set up to film a few seconds of Kobe dunking the ball, jumping of course. X approached to the edge of the basketball court as Kobe dunked a few times for warmups, carefully noting every movement.
"What if a player tries to stop you when you do that, Cabby? What happens then?"
"Kobe! And . . nothing," Bryant sniffed, "They never stop me."
"But all they have to do is swat the ball away, right?"
Bryant gave a big toothy grin. "Oh. You wanna try . . ballet boy?"
X nodded innocently.
Bryant got the ball at half court, then waited, sighing, while X did a whole series of ballet stretches. Finally, X motioned for him to go and Bryant dribbled on the run approaching the basket, jumped, and to his amazement, was met in the air by "ballet boy" who swatted the ball out of his hands. The crew and onlookers ooo'd aahhh'd and cheered as Bryant seethed while retrieving the ball.
"Did you do everything you're supposed to do?" asked X in a deadpan tone, prompting snickers from the crew. "I mean, that wasn't very good for you, was it?"
"I'm gonna do something this time," a furious Bryant growled, dribbling the ball back to midcourt. Ballet costume clad X acted nonchalant. The crew was hushed. "I hope he doesn't hurt him," said one cameraman of Bryant, a notoriously hyper-competitive bad sport.
Bryant charged to the basket even faster this time but, again, Xing Fu Lee shocked him by leaping just as high as the six inch taller NBA star and precisely jabbing one quilted gold and white velvet clad arm past Bryant's left and swatting the ball out of his right.
"Get that shit outta here!" shouted X as the watching crew exploded in cheering and whoops. Bryant stood there frowning and befuddled. Finally, X approached him offering a handshake.
"Seriously. You jump pretty well, Kiki. We might have a spot for you in the ballet."
" . . don't fucking believe this . . " Bryant grunted through his teeth before stalking off, only reluctantly returning for the shot of him and Xing Fu Lee together at the end of the commercial.
The footage went viral.
Bryant had treated some of the film crew very poorly, snapping at guys with microphones and cameras as well as people serving food and they were more than happy to rush the video out to Youtube and all over the net.
It was a massive problem for Kobe Bryant as Charles Barkley and other NBA studio analysts snickered at him getting rejected twice by a guy in white tights. He went into a slump for the next several games and when he missed a potential game winning shot one night, Charles Barkley diagnosed the problem. "Terrrrible," was Charles Barkley's pronouncement. "He-he plays like he's still waiting for that ballet dude, that Xing Fu Lee to come flyyyyyyyyyyin' in at any moment and swat his shots away! He got put in a slump by high culture! He needs an opera or somethin' to get him out of it!"
It was a coup for the ballet. One of their guys humiliating a top athlete! They'd never even dreamed of having their art validated in this way.
The word of those in the know that Xing Fu Lee was going to be the next big star of ballet had gained him some notoriety but only within a very small circle of interest in such things. There was the occasional picture in the society sections of the newspapers. But now the crowds at every performance were much bigger and celebrities were showing up at performances in order to be seen getting out of their limos at the rediscovered 'in' thing.
There was a media crush to interview the young ballet star who'd humiliated Kobe Bryant. Oh, they weren't direct about it. They all professed to want to bring more high culture to their viewers. The Today Show, Good Morning America, Regis and Kelly, Oprah, Dateline, 60 minutes. Leno, Letterman, Conan, Craig Ferguson. They got a look at him stomping Kobe Bryant and what a pretty boy this Xing Fu Lee was and they stampeded to have him on. He had cameo appearances on Lost, CSI and 24, too. He had fun with it.
The Regis and Kelly appearance was typical.
"And we're back. Okay now, Kelly, our next guest is the hottest thing on the internet. Show 'em the video . . here he is blocking NBA star Kobe Bryant . ."
"Kobe Bryant, Reeg!"
Studio audience ooo's and claps as footage is shown.
"Not once but twice!"
"Twice, Reeg!"
Studio audience ooo's and claps louder "That's what I said, Kelly! Now, here's the new star of the Gotham City Ballet, Xing Fu Lee, along with ballerina Melissa Devereaux!"
Xing Fu Lee and the ballerina walked out onto the studio set in full costume moving to stand between Regis and Kelly as the studio audience applauds. Kelly leans backward to look at X's rear. A big grin comes over her face and she makes a big thumbs up gesture to the audience which laughs and applauds. Regis rolls his eyes.
"First off, Xing Fu Lee, how old are you?"
"I'm just a week short of seventeen, Regis."
"And Melissa?"
"I'm twenty three, Regis."
"So, you're six years older than him!"
"That's six years, Reeg!"
"Yes, Kelly. Is that a problem at all, Melissa?"
"Um, no, he's very mature for his age, Regis."
"Now, your name. Xing Fu Lee. That's chinese, I'm told. Is that right?"
"That's right, Regis my ancestry is half chinese, half russian."
"But you grew up in the states, right?"
"That's right, on the west coast, in Jump City."
"And you took ballet lessons there from an early age and became such a hot shot that you got a scholarship to come here to Gotham City!"
X grinned. "Basically, yes."
"So, how-how did this all come about, playing basketball against Kobe Bryant?!"
"Well, they were filming a commercial for JUMP, the Juvenile Urban Mentor Program, a charity that works to help poor inner city kids-"
"A GREAT charity!"
"Great charity, Reeg."
"Um, yes, it is. And they were filming a commercial playing off their name, JUMP, and one of the established stars of our company was supposed to take part but he was injured and I got picked to take his place."
"Did you know who you were going up against?"
"Um, no. Not really. I'm not an NBA fan."
"So you didn't know who Kobe Bryant was?!"
"No."
"He didn't know, Reeg!"
"And then you're told to block his shot!"
"Well, no, he started taking shots on the court and dunking the ball and I asked if it was always as easy as he was making it look. And he said that other guys tried to stop him but they never could. I guess I looked like I didn't believe him and he challenged me to try. So I did."
"Did he ever, huh, audience? Huh Reeg?! Xing Fu zinged him!"
Huge audience applause.
"So, now, there's been a huge increase in interest in you and the ballet. HUGE!"
"Huge, Reeg!"
X nodded.
"People didn't realize you guys could be such good . . . athletes," said Kelly openly ogling him mostly below the waist.
"Box office is booming! Ballet's become a hot ticket! Stars show up in limos to be seen there! And you're the toast of the town! You even got offered an NBA contract by your home town Jump City Warriors, didn't you?"
the audience applauded and X bowed lightly.
"Yeah, I was."
"Well?"
X shrugged. "It's a nice compliment but I'm not interested."
"But you can block Kobe Bryant. Nobody else in the NBA can do that."
X shrugged again. "I-I've kind of got a problem with the uniforms," he admitted.
"YOU've got a problem with THEIR uniforms?!" shouted Regis shooting a look up and down the ballet dancer in costume as the audience roared.
"Yeah. I mean, the, I guess they wear . . shorts. But, come on, they look like skirts. They're so long they look like the skirts my sister wears with some of her business suits. It's too . . feminine. I'd rather stick with something where you're clearly a man, like this," he said gesturing with both hands to his own costume as Regis and Kelly laughed and the audience roared. Then he and Melissa danced followed by tremendous applause.
The ballet company was ecstatic.
With one Youtube video they'd gone from effete cultural backwater to hot new, rediscovered old thing. It was beyond their wildest dreams and they begged X to do as much publicity as possible. They didn't have to plead much. Soon there were paparazzi following him into and out of various exclusive Gotham clubs and restaurants always with a stunning ballerina or model on his arm. The fact that this 17 year old seemed to be readily consuming alcoholic beverages was never much discussed.
They tried, again, to get X to sign a long term contract with them. A 6 year deal, they said this time. They talked about the money. It was the money they focused on this time, not the security. He almost laughed, sitting in the big corner office with the company director and other officials not yelling at him this time but practically kissing his ass. He'd discreetly made contact with the right people in London, Paris, Moscow and St. Petersburg as well as another company in Gotham City. He knew how much money he could get from all of them. He made the Gotham City Ballet pay him more and he only agreed to a one year contract. In the course of it, his notoriety grew and grew. The society and gossip pages continually featured him and his girlfriend of the moment. He was box office gold for the company.
The company directors were ambivalent just the same. They loved that X was making them money but they desperately wanted the insolent pretty boy taken down a notch. They varied his roles as much as possible. We want to let you show everyone all the different things you can do, they told him. But privately, they wanted X to have to endure some bad reviews. There would certainly be some. All their dancers had specialties. It wasn't just the dancing requirements of the roles. There was an element of acting, too, of portraying a king or a prince or a pirate or a villain or a callous lover and conveying that to the audience. Certain roles belonged to certain members of the company. But X shocked them, making each character his own, conveying just with the slightest difference of body language and expression, or how he held his head, that he was a king, or gigolo or villain. He seemed to inhabit the roles, even the most extreme like the hyperactive Puck in Midsummer Night's Dream, a role usually given to the shortest men. The critics loved him every time.
At the end of that year, he left and danced for a year at the top company in Paris. After that, he danced a year in Moscow, then London, then St. Petersburg and then Jump City. Everywhere he went there was a huge rush of publicity when he first came that only barely diminished by the time he left.
But other things kept, strangely, diminishing in the cities where he went. These included art collections, stashes of jewels, and the contents of safes and safe deposit boxes.
*****TT*****TT*****
Author's note: This all started when a girl I knew saw a short clip of Red X leaping away from danger in one episode and said, "That was so ballet!". I asked her what she meant, not knowing anything about it and she explained some to me and gave me some background. Since that time, I wanted to fill in some background for Red X and make him a ballet star.