by Jay Bell
Kelly nodded, no stranger to wishing things had gone differently. “Ideally he and I would have broken up that day instead of getting in a car crash. I assume he told you about that?”
“Yeah.”
Kelly braced himself for pitying words, still bothered by the way people would say they were sorry, as if being one leg down was automatically a fate worse than death. For once, Kelly was joyfully disappointed because Jason simply sat there, waiting for the conversation to continue.
“I don’t know about you,” Kelly said, “but I haven’t got a clue what to do with myself anymore. There’s an entire summer before college, and without William, the world feels empty. I feel empty. When I lost my leg, I needed a long time to get over missing a piece of myself. How I feel right now isn’t so different.”
Jason finally relaxed, slumping down in his chair as he exhaled. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. I keep wishing I had some of William saved up somehow. Maybe videos where all he does is look at the camera and talk. That way I could pretend we were having a conversation. I don’t even have photos. I think the ones from prom got lost in the mail.”
If the illusion of William was all he required, Kelly could provide. While there might not be photos of him hanging on the bedroom wall anymore, Kelly frequently scrolled through the images on his phone. “Here,” he said, digging the device out of his pocket. “Give me your number and I’ll hook you up.”
“Okay. Uh.” Jason rattled off his number, his body language tensing again. Kelly found this puzzling until landing on the first photo. A selfie. In it, Kelly was holding out the phone, arm stretched as far away as possible to capture both him and William on camera. Of course he had cut off most of William’s face and a lens flare from the setting sun made anything else hard to see... but William’s smile was still there on display, right next to Kelly’s. A happy moment together. One of the first. Jason would hate seeing it, so Kelly kept going, making sure the photos he sent were of William and William alone. Then he studied Jason as he absorbed each image. Kelly could practically see the lump forming in his throat.
“Thanks,” Jason said, voice hoarse as he wiped at his eyes.
Kelly had once dreamed of his photos causing emotional reactions, but never like this. “These are just the ones from my phone. I used to take real photos all the time. Sort of a hobby of mine. Give me your email address and I’ll send you some.”
Jason practically leapt at the offer. Kelly typed the info into his contacts, trying to remember the last time he needed to access them. These days it was just him and Bonnie, and she was usually preoccupied with Emma. The idea of having another friend sounded appealing. Kelly set aside the phone and took a deep breath. “Listen, I know I’ve been a bitch to you, but maybe we can hang out sometime. That way I can prove I’m not so bad after all.”
Jason’s eyes went wide. Then he nodded. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun.”
“Or awkward,” Kelly said.
After a pause, they both laughed, which felt good. Kelly hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately. In fact, he hadn’t done much of anything. Maybe it was time for that to change.
“It’s kind of beautiful,” he said with a sigh.
“What?” Jason asked.
“William. How he just let go of everything. Me, you, his mother, his past. I don’t think we stopped meaning anything to him, but he somehow managed to release us all before floating away on the wind. I wish I could do that. Just think how liberating a fresh start would feel.”
“No thanks.” Jason shook his head. “I’ve had my fill of new beginnings.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I’ve been in and out of foster homes my entire life.”
Now the roles were reversed and Kelly felt like telling Jason he was sorry, but he paid him the same respect and remained silent.
“Even coming to Austin was a new beginning for me,” Jason continued. “Hopefully the last. Maybe that’s why I’m not packing my things and moving to Cape Cod to be with William. Part of me is tempted, but the rest feels exhausted by the idea. I have to put down roots eventually, right?”
Kelly chuckled. “No idea. All I’ve got is roots, and frankly, I feel tangled up in them.”
“Oh. Maybe you just need to change a few things, not everything.” Jason glanced down at the phone again, staring at an image of William at the YMCA. Behind him were only the lockers he leaned against. Kelly had made sure nothing else was in frame. Just a solemn William with arms crossed and a slightly rusty metal backdrop. “You ever think about turning that camera on yourself?”
“Me?” Kelly asked.
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Professionally.”
Modeling? Kelly almost laughed at the idea. Enough people had told him he was handsome, or at least striking, that the idea wasn’t completely far-fetched. Regardless, one attribute would always disqualify him. “I’m pretty sure having a full set of limbs is required if you want to be a model.”
Jason shook his head, as if he disagreed, and moved through the menus of his phone. Then he pushed a button and held it out to Kelly. “Talk to this guy for a minute, and he’ll happily prove you wrong.”
Kelly stared at the phone. Then he heard a click and a tinny voice say hello.
Jason gestured with the phone. “Go ahead!”
Kelly grabbed it, and not having a clue what was happening, pressed it to his ear.
“If you’re not going to speak,” said a husky voice, “you could at least breathe heavily. Give me something to work with.”
“Hello,” Kelly managed.
“Ah! Progress at last. What can I do for you? No doubt this is an exlover, driven by desperation to call me. The only remaining question is if amorous desire motivates you now, or a lack of funding instead. I’ll cut to the chase and tell you now that you won’t get a single penny out of me. No, sir!”
Kelly scoffed. “This is a joke, right?”
“Quite possibly,” the voice replied. “Let’s start over. Why are you calling me?”
“I don’t know,” Kelly confessed.
“Do we know each other? No matter. I have a marvelous ear. Had we met before, I would have recognized your voice by now. Why don’t you describe your present circumstances to me? Start with your surroundings.”
“Okay...” Kelly glanced over at Jason who nodded encouragingly, as if everything was going according to plan. “Right now I’m in a church basement surrounded by gay teenagers.”
“Some immoral priest is squirreling away young men in his own personal dungeon? How scandalous!”
“It’s a gay youth group,” Kelly said. “I was just talking to Jason and 5}
“Which Jason? Stewart? Grant? McMillan?”
“Grant.”
The line went quiet a moment. Maybe the guy was consulting a crystal ball, because when he spoke again, he suddenly knew everything. “Kelly Phillips, how would you feel about your image being plastered all over the world? Don’t ask any questions or trouble yourself with complicated details. Just consider fame and wealth, and give me a simple yes or no answer.”
Kelly’s mouth went dry. He craved change in his life. He still didn’t know what was going on, or what could happen, but this was definitely something new. Taking a deep breath, he answered.
“Yes.”
Kelly had made a deal with the devil. There could be no other explanation. He glanced over at the driver and felt certain. They were in the Bentley again, but this time Jason was behind the wheel. The person who could summon up super-hot guys as his date, or steal away boyfriends despite doing everything wrong. Now it all made sense. Jason had made a deal with the devil to get whatever he wanted. And now Kelly had done the same.
Jason sensed his stare and smiled reassuringly. “Feeling nervous?”
“No,” Kelly lied. After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “But thanks for tagging along.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Jason said. “I’ve never seen a real photo shoot. Or Marc
ello’s studios.”
Just the name made Kelly squirm. Marcello. It sounded foreign, even though the voice on the phone didn’t have an accent. Not really. Sort of pompous, maybe, like make-believe royalty. He knew little about the man, but Kelly had learned that he wasn’t a complete stranger. The fundraiser where William had played waiter was Marcello’s. The palatial home where it had taken place belonged to Marcello. The fat man who had been up on stage in a well-cut white tuxedo, graceful despite his large size, was Marcello.
These brief impressions intimidated rather than comforted, adding to Kelly’s nerves as they pulled up to a massive square building without any windows. The only detail was on the door, written in unassuming black letters.
Studio Maltese
“Weird,” Jason said. “Not at all what I pictured. Looks more like a movie studio. Oh! Oh.”
“What?” Kelly said.
Jason cringed. “Don’t freak, but Marcello doesn’t just handle professional photography. His company also makes movies. For adults.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Kelly said firmly.
“I agree!” Jason said. “I swear he’s only interested in you as a professional model. Tim would kill Marcello if he tried to get me or my friends involved in... that stuff.”
“So that’s how you know him?”
“Yeah. He and Tim are old friends. And before you ask, Tim hasn’t been in any adult movies either.”
“Too bad,” Kelly murmured.
They shared an awkward laugh together.
“You ready?” Jason asked. “You can always bail if you want, although I don’t think you should. Marcello is a little eccentric, but he’s a good guy.”
That remained to be seen. Kelly couldn’t decide if he was being exploited, or if the money involved made it a respectable job. He wasn’t just here to give nice headshots. Marcello was interested in other parts of him as well. But like Jason said, if he got uncomfortable, he could always leave. Steeling himself, he nodded. “Let’s do this.”
He and Jason had just reached the door to the studio when it swung open, the space filled by an imposing form. Marcello’s suit was brown, the fine fabric nearly as dark as the eyes that scrutinized him with cold efficiency. Then he placed his palms on his generous belly and smiled, seeming much more harmless than he had mere moments ago. Just a balding, graying, older man who seriously needed to shed some pounds. And yet, he hadn’t built his empire by chance. Kelly held on to the image of those hard dark eyes and promised himself he wouldn’t forget who he was dealing with.
“So handsome,” Marcello said. “The pair of you!” he added, opening his arms to Jason for a hug. After releasing him, Marcello considered Kelly again. “So glad you could join me here today. Now I see why you turned down my offer to have a car sent over. When it comes to good company, you can’t do better than Jason Grant.”
“Don’t listen to a word,” Jason said. “He’ll flatter your pants off if you let him.”
“Literally,” Marcello said. “Please, come in. Let me show you around the studio.”
He held open the door, meaning they had to squeeze past his bulk. The hallway beyond was the complete opposite of the luxurious home Kelly had visited. The walls were beige, or maybe just dirty, since the flickering fluorescent tubes above provided insufficient light to judge fairly. Aside from numerous doors, there was nothing else to see—no struggling house plants or burbling water cooler.
“Welcome to Purgatory,” Marcello said, taking the lead. “Don’t worry though, Paradise lies just ahead.”
As they walked down the hall, Kelly strained to hear any hint of the illicit films Jason had mentioned. Thankfully—or perhaps not—he heard no trace of cracking whips or creaking bed springs. Regardless, the hallway alone managed to feel derelict, which didn’t promise much for the room beyond the door Marcello opened.
Was he ever wrong! The large space was pristine, the spotless floors and walls painted a solid eighteen percent gray, just enough to neutralize light reflections without sucking up luminance completely. The ceiling was solid black, specialized lights hanging at different angles. Soft boxes and umbrellas were strategically placed, while tripods and crank stands held equipment so valuable Kelly felt scared to breathe. Backdrops, meters, and flood lights! Paradise was an apt description because Kelly felt like he’d skipped over all the dying stuff and gone straight to Heaven.
“It can be a little overwhelming at first,” Marcello said, “but the staff is highly qualified, meaning none of this should concern you.”
Kelly noticed the people for the first time, most of them gathered behind photography equipment, facing one person front and center. Who could blame them? The guy had a body sculpted out of clay, the unforgiving bright light revealing nothing but perfection. No unsightly hairs or the tiniest bit of fat. Just flawless skin, trained muscle, and an impressive package stretching white cotton briefs to their limit.
“He’s terrible,” Marcello said in hushed tones. “Absolutely abhorrent.”
Kelly stared. If this guy didn’t meet expectations, then he was doomed. Sure his upper body was still fairly toned, but Kelly didn’t hit the gym like this person must do on a daily basis. The second he peeled off his shirt, who knew how many flaws would be revealed? Hadn’t he found a pimple on his shoulder a few days back? Had that healed yet?
“I think you need glasses,” Jason said, “because that guy is smoking!”
“His body may inspire fevered visions,” Marcello said, “but those eyes are devoid of emotion. And really, once you see him among his peers between the pages of a magazine, muscular perfection won’t make him stand out any more than the others do. A shame, since I hoped to get more use out of him. The photographer asked him to imagine his greatest passion, which only resulted in him mumbling something about football. His eyes never caught fire. I’m afraid he’s destined to end up as a crotch on a box of underwear and nothing more. I only hope the client doesn’t ask us to airbrush the finer details out, because the boy is truly blessed. Now then, shall we step into my office and talk business?”
They returned back to the hall and waited in front of elevator doors.
“Third floor please,” Marcello said once they were inside.
Kelly reached for the numbers, only to discover a keypad. After chuckling mischievously, Marcello leaned over and punched in a code. The elevator responded, lurching upward. When the doors opened again, natural daylight filled his vision. Kelly hadn’t seen any windows from the ground floor, meaning this space was probably an addition built above the roof. He took in the designer couches, the low coffee table, and the tasteful rugs strewn about the stone floor, and sighed. Must be nice to be rich.
Marcello avoided the desk situated near the far wall, inviting them instead to sit on the couches. He directed Kelly to one cushion in particular and for good reason. A contract sat on the coffee table, Kelly’s name typed in a blank spot on the first few lines. He tried to ignore it once he was seated, looking at the ferns in wooden planters by the windows, or the marble bust of a male figure in one corner.
“Antinous,” Marcello said, still not having taken a seat. “Emperor Hadrian’s lover. When he drowned in the Nile, the emperor had him deified. What a gift! As if the immortal soul weren’t enough, Hadrian decided Antinous should live on as a god. Do you suppose anyone worships him today?”
Kelly considered the statue. Even from here, he could see how handsome Antinous must have been. “People still worship beauty,” he answered.
“Indeed they do,” Marcello said. “Would you care for something to drink?”
Kelly shook his head. So did Jason.
“Very well.” Marcello sat on the couch across from them and leaned forward. “I’m the sort of man who makes no qualms about what he wants, and I believe you are the sort of man who appreciates a direct approach. Am I correct?”
Kelly nodded.
“Excellent. Let’s get right down to business. What you saw downstairs makes me wea
ry. The commercial world has finally realized the value of male beauty, which means that anyone with a gym membership and a good orthodontist is trotted out in front of the camera. I’m tired of it and so are consumers. The world craves novelty, and there’s no shame in that. I intend to fulfill that desire, and I believe you can help me.”
Kelly considered him. “You think using an amputee as a model will create scandal and publicity?”
“No,” Marcello said. “No scandal. I intend to show the world that beauty comes in many forms. I’m not making an appeal to the hearts of my fellow man. You’ve lost a leg. Fine. But you are also incredibly striking. Beauty sells, and yours is something special. You’re not just another waxed frat boy who hasn’t yet ruined his body through frequent inebriation. Even sitting here now, I’m tempted to take a photo of you. Do you often flex your jaw like that?”
“Only when I’m trying to control my temper, which is often.”
“Have I insulted you?”
“I still feel like you’re beating around the bush, even though you pretend you’re not.”
Marcello leaned back and nodded curtly. “Very well. You’re handsome, but I have no shortage of handsome male models. Neither do my competitors. Your amputation will set you apart from the crowd. I’d like to take photos that include your amputation in plain sight. If you are comfortable with this, I’m certain I can reward us both with inordinate sums of money.”
“Fine,” Kelly said, “but only under certain conditions.”
“Such as?”
“I have final say over which photos get used and which don’t. Also, I want royalties. Jason says you deal in stock photography. It seems only fair that whatever you sell in the future, I get a portion of.”
Marcello glanced over at Jason accusingly. “Did you advise him to be so cutthroat?”
“No,” Jason said, “but I’m enjoying the show.”
“This will come out of your finder’s fee.”
“That’s not why I did this!” Jason said hurriedly. “I only wanted to help Kelly. You can keep your money.”
Kelly rolled his eyes. He was starting to see why Jason and William got along so well. “He gets a finder’s fee,” Kelly said. “And I get final say and a fair share of sales.”
