by Max Hudson
“Oh no, please, Mister Hodgens, go right ahead.”
Jared gave him a wink, and another once over. It was enough to make even a straight man blush, and then he sauntered into the club. It was a loud, colorful place, and he was fairly certain they had way more people packed in it than any fire code would allow. Luckily, he knew that August wasn’t among the crowd, but he was still going to have to figure out how to get to this basement ritual room below. He figured it would either be heavily guarded or hidden away well enough that no one would ever notice it. Either way, it was going to be a challenge getting in.
With the room being so crowded, and the dim pink and purple lights, no one recognized him, so he slowly waded through the crowd, trying his best to look around the room. He wasn’t having much luck in the sea of bodies, until he spotted a balcony above them. It was a bit less crowded, and if he could get to it, he could take in the whole room. Another gatekeeper stood at the bottom of the stairs, though. This one looked like he might be a little less enthusiastic than the bouncer at the front door.
“Nu poti merge,” the man said in Romanian, and while Jared didn’t speak the language, he knew exactly what the man meant.
“Come on, man, I just want to take in the room, get some fresh air, you know.” He grinned and waggled an eyebrow before moving closer and muttering over the music, “You know who I am, right?”
The guard looked him over, and Jared could see the wheels turning, the moment realization began to dawn on him. The actor moved closer still, slipping a hand on the man’s big bicep.
“Let me up,” he cooed.
“Of course, Mister Hodgens,” the man said, sounding a bit flustered.
“Call me Jared,” the actor said as he took the first stair. He knew he was laying it on a little thick at this point, and hoped the man didn’t come looking for him for a little something more later. Still, old habits and all.
Most of the people on the balcony were already doing what Jared had hinted at the bouncer, but he simply raised an eyebrow, and then ignored them as much as they were ignoring him. He went to railing and looked down at the people dancing below. There was so little room that most of them were simply bouncing or jumping up and down. With a cringe, he found himself hoping the floor was sturdy, considering there was another room below them, one that his lover was probably being held in. He didn’t want to think about having the wrong location, so he cleared his mind of everything beyond trying to find this secret door.
There was very little in the way of décor. Pretty much all of the furniture had been saved for the balcony. Below there were only the flashing lights, and what looked like long, semi-transparent curtains hanging from the walls and ceiling. Here and there, people were entangled in them, using them as props for dancing and other expressions. The curtains still made it difficult to see everything, but he could see almost all of the surrounding walls if he moved about the balcony, everything except for the one below him. Then, he spotted it. Tucked away in a corner, but the front door, was a small bar that served glowing drinks. In fact, the entire thing seemed to be lit up by some kind of neon or perhaps black light. To the right of the bar, was what looked like a trap door.
Jared took to the stairs like a mad man, which was perhaps, not the right move. He whizzed by the balcony guard, who looked startled and then suspicious, and tried to shove his way through the crowd. All the poise he’d had went out the window at the thought of finding August. It all seemed to be taking too long now, and as he pushed and elbowed, people started to complain. By the time he made it to the bar, the bartender had been alerted, as had another bouncer, and the two, as well as the bouncer from the balcony converged on him.
“No!” he yelled as one of them grabbed for him. He dove under their feet and managed to pull open the trap door before the three of them dog piled on top of him, and the entire group ended up rolling down the stairs to the basement.
Jared groaned in pain, though he was pretty sure he didn’t have any serious injuries. He was at the bottom of the stairs, one of the bouncers still on top of him. He shoved the unconscious man off of him, and then sat up to look around. The place looked mostly like a basement, with the exception of one corner with a magic circle drawn on the floor, a couple of lit candles, spell books, and other magical paraphernalia. As one of the other bouncers groaned too, and sat up, Jared looked his way, and his jaw dropped open.
To the other side of the room was a small round table, and two chairs. Sitting at it were August Jimson and Leif Svensson, apparently having tea. The two men were looking over at Jared and the bouncers as if they’d rudely interrupted something. Until August spotted his boyfriend at the bottom of the pile, that is.
He quickly put his teacup down, and bounced out of his chair, sputtering, “Jared? What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” the man repeated, getting to his feet a bit unsteadily, and then roughly brushing away the dust. “What am I doing here? I came here to rescue you, stupid! What are you doing?”
“Oh, having tea. Turns out Leif here was also taught by Madame L’Begnaud.” When Jared only glared at him, he sat back down, and took another hesitant sip of tea. “He makes really good tea.”
“I thought you were in danger,” his boyfriend said slowly.
“Oh, I was, trust me.”
For the first time Jared looked over at Leif, who only shrugged apologetically, and took a sip from his own cup.
“It’s a long story,” August added.
“Try me. I have all night. Oh, and apparently, all of Hollywood’s been trained by the Madame. Jameson was too. That’s how I found you.” There weren’t any more chairs, so he sat on the side of a crate, and listened as Leif and August told him all about the film, Jameson’s betrayal, the sabotage, and how they’d bonded over the witchcraft and tales of Madame L’Begnaud. At first, none of it did much to quell Jared’s annoyance, but by the time the police finally showed up, the three of them were laughing and drinking something a little stronger than tea.
“Oh, do you have to arrest him?” August said, as the handcuffs came out.
“It’s all right,” Leif insisted. “I have done quite a few illegal things, after all.”
“You did try to kill me, twice,” August agreed.
Jared looked at his boyfriend, and raised an eyebrow, and then cocked his head to the side. “Yes, I suppose he really will have to go to jail for some of this.”
As a police officer started pushing Leif up the stairs, he looked back at Jared and August and smiled. “You make a wonderful couple, you know.” He chuckled as the two of them blushed and stuttered. “I don’t suppose Jameson will shut down the production now?”
Jared opened his mouth, and looked at August, who frowned, and then they answered in unison, “Probably not.” The two of them stood there and watched as the man was led away, and then two of the bouncers came downstairs to escort them out of the club. Neither of them looked particularly happy to see him this time.
“Sorry, boys,” he said as he brushed past them to go up the stairs.
Once again, there were hours of questions, and statements to make. Jared and August were checked out by medics, but they were both fine other than a bit of bruising, and a strange delirium that was a side effect of the sedative the director had been given. It was actually a little fun to watch. Jared mostly sat back during the police interviews and watched his boyfriend tell the tale of what had happened, even Jared’s part in it, which the man didn’t even know. August made him sound very heroic, so he simply let him keep going.
When they were finally released, both of them had calmed down a bit, and took a quiet cab ride back to the hotel. They had every intention of simply going up to one of their rooms and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out to be that simple.
“Surprise!” the cast and crew yelled as the two of them walked into the lobby.
“Is it my birthday?” Jared muttered in August’s ear.
>
Before August could answer Margaret and some of the others came running over to them. She gave them the once over, and then said, “I figured you’d be worse off.”
“Did you now?” Jared quipped.
“We’ve already heard everything,” one of the camera men jumped in. “One of the bouncers at the club is a friend of mine.”
Jared’s eyebrows crept up. “Big guy? Guards the balcony stairs?”
The camera man’s mouth opened in surprise, and then he giggled. “How did you know?”
Jared simply waggled an eyebrow, and then turned and did the same at a curious looking August.
“Anyway, we’ve put together a little coming home party,” Margaret finally managed to announce. Then she waved them toward the restaurant.
“You people and your parties,” August groaned.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Jared complained. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Oh, and Jameson’s on his way,” Margaret called back.
“Wonderful,” Jared and August said in unison.
Though, once again, neither of them felt up to it, Jared and August mingled with their cast and crew. They couldn’t really call any of them friends, but it was nice to know that these people cared about them. As the night wore on, though, something began to take shape in the back of August’s mind. It started out as something he couldn’t even put his finger on, but before long, it had fleshed itself out into a fully formed, harebrained scheme.
“Why don’t any of us ever make friends in this business?” he asked, sliding over toward Jared, who’d taken up residence at the bar.
The actor was looking out at the crowd, drinking everything in, but for once, not really participating.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “We did.”
“Yes, but...that’s different. How many of these people do you see when you aren’t shooting a movie with them?”
“Okay, I see your point. I have a few friends I work with, though. What are you getting at?”
It was August’s turn to waggle an eyebrow, and then he leaned in closer. When he was finished, Jared stared at him, eyes and mouth wide, and then a slow grin crossed every inch of his face.
It was very, very early when Jameson arrived on his red-eye flight. He went straight to the hotel to get a little sleep He saw that the party had disbanded for the night, but what he didn’t know was that, up in Jared’s room, he and August were still up, putting the finishing touches on the grand plan. The next morning, they weren’t surprised that he wanted to see them, bright and early.
“Did you get any sleep, sir?” August asked. “You can’t have been in long.”
Jameson huffed, looking the two of them over. “I can’t look any worse than you two.”
“Long night,” Jared said.
“I bet. So, I’ve been thinking about this production, and where things should go from here. With Svensson in jail, I don’t see any reason...”
“We quit,” August interjected before the man could get any further.
Jameson slowly looked up from his hotel table. “Excuse me?”
“He said, ‘we quit’,” Jared replied.
“You can’t just...quit!” Jameson said, his voice building to almost a roar by the time the sentence was through.
“Of course, we can,” August said, calmly and politely. “It says right in our contracts that you, as producer, had a duty of care to keep us safe. You ignored multiple attempts to get you to see how dangerous continuing was, and you ignored us, resulting in injury to various cast and crew, and multiple attempts on my life.”
“So, we’ve decided we want nothing more to do with your movie,” Jared added.
Jameson’s face had gone purple, and he shook his head. “What do you plan to do now, then? I’ll make sure...”
Once again, August politely cut him off. “We’ve formed our own production company, A&C Films.”
“What?” Jameson said in disbelief. He started to laugh, but then the door opened, and the rest of the cast and crew came spilling it.
“Oh, and we’re taking a few people with us,” August added with a friendly, yet mischievous smile.
*THE END*
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Marcus Armantado lives the dream of all aspiring athletes. He is the first-string kicker on a major-league football team, adored by fans the world over. However, things are not as they appear. Marcus is plagued by constant bouts of sleepwalking, seemingly brought on by a recurring dream wherein he relives a memory from his past. On top of this, he pines for his best friend from childhood who also happens to be the quarterback for his team’s rival. Though they once had the closest relationship anyone could have with another person, they have fallen out of contact over the years fueled by an incident that left Marcus confused and bewildered.
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