by Ema Bancroft
Linda was gone. Cecil had fired her for not preventing what he called "a colossal disaster of epic proportions. I had no idea how I was going to predict Roland's actions, let alone prevent them. I really felt pretty bad for her. I mean, chewing her hair and all that, it was nice to have her around. Not to mention that none of this was her fault.
But so far, in general, things haven't been so bad.
Of course, we knew that eventually a price would have to be paid. And the next day, when we got to L. A. and checked into our hotel, we knew it was time to pay for it.
We'd all been avoiding his calls, but Cecil wouldn't be frustrated.
He left messages for all of us at the front desk telling us to meet him in his suite.
Immediately.
"What are you going to do? " I asked quietly as we took the elevator to the top floor.
"Scream. A lot,"Raul replied dryly.
"And sweat,"Ethan added.
"Oh, yes. Lots of sweat,"agreed Raul.
They were right.
"Have you seen this? " Cecil screamed as soon as we walked in the door. He waved a copy of People Magazine with Roland on the cover and headline - Whisper Screams: I'm Gay!
"Wow, that was quick,"I said without thinking.
Cecil stared at me. "You're damn right, it's fast. People made a stop-the-presses to make some small changes to the cover story... the story that was supposed to be about the new album! "His voice rose with every word, until he nearly screamed, brandishing the magazine like a sword."
Elijah narrowed her eyes. "Nice picture,"he joked, punching Roland in the arm.
"Thank you. Don't you think the leather jacket is a cliché?"
"No. It's cool. Is it Prada?"
"Gucci."
"Really? It looks like Prada."
I saw the two of them joking with their eyes wide open as Cecil smoked, the magazine grabbed his sweaty fist. I could have sworn there was smoke coming out of his ears.
"Wait a second,"interrupted Raul, his eyes squinted in the magazine. "Isn't that my jacket?"
"Would you all shut up for the fucking jacket? " Cecil screamed. I heard Ethan puff, followed by a heavy silence, punctuated only by Cecil's crude breaths. His face was covered with a glimmer of sweat, his bulging eyes and his mustache shaking with agitation.
He looked like an angry mouse... with perspiration problems... and polyester trousers in a strange shade of green?
"I don't know why you're so worried, Cecil,"Ethan finally said. "It's no big deal."
"It's no big deal,"repeated Cecil, his moustache almost comes to life as his face becomes impossibly redder. I was wondering if his head might explode and covertly reach my cell phone, in case they needed 911. Unbidden, an image of Humpty Dumpty lying at the bottom of the wall like all the king's horses and all the king's men tried to put it back together again filled my mind (although how horses could do anything with a broken egg was beyond me)... and I found myself suffocating a hysterical giggle.?
"Do you think this is funny, Tim? " Cecil growled, turning against me.
"Leave him alone,"Elijah said quietly, his voice frozen. "Leave B alone. Leave Roland alone. Calm down. Down."
Cecil blinked. "Calm down? Don't you realize the damage this could do? " He struck the magazine on a small table and pointed the accusing finger at Roland. "This asshole could kill 5Point!"
Cecil's furious eyes gleamed before Roland. "Why couldn't you shut up? Who cares what - or who - you do behind closed doors? Why did you have to tell the world that you're a fucking--"
"Beware,"Roland cautioned.
"And you..." Cecil turned to Eddie, without losing the rhythm. " You'll never work in this business again..."?
"Don't threaten him,"Roland spat, stalking his body in front of Eddie's.
"I can handle myself,"protested Eddie.
"If you had handled yourself, this wouldn't be a problem,"Cecil shouted.
"That's enough,"Elijah said quietly.
The voices intensified. The accusations flew away.
"You can't tell me how to live my life..."
"... the press is going to have a fucking picnic..."?
"... it's none of your business..."?
"... if you'd kept the damn thing in your pants..."?
"Fuck you, Cecil!"
"I said that's enough! " Elijah shouted, stepping in front of Roland and looking at Cecil. They stared at each other for a long moment before Elijah took a deep breath to stabilize himself.
"Look, Cecil,"he finally said. "You've been with us from the beginning. Hell, you made us..."
"Damn it, I did,"Cecil muttered, but another look from Elijah silenced him.
"We appreciate it. We do it,"said Elijah, staring at the rest of us. We all jumped up and down to agree and Cecil relaxed a bit.
"But, Elijah continued, emphasizing the word:" You work for us. We don't work for you.
Cecil's face turned red. "You signed a fucking contract. Don't you dare try to get me out of here."
"No one's trying to take you out,"Elijah interrupted. "But you're not in charge here."
The air thickened with tension as Cecil looked at Elijah, and then turned his furious gaze toward each of us.
"You try to leave me, and I'll have you in court so fast your heads will turn,"he grunted.
"It'll cost you."
Elias laughed. "Do you think we give a shit about that, Cecil? Do you think any of us care about the fucking money?"
He stepped toward Cecil, leaning slightly forward as we all stared astonished. But you do, don't you, Cecil? You care a lot about money. And you know you're going to have a lot more with us... than without us.
Cecil closed his eyes with Elijah for a moment, then his gaze fell to the ground as his shoulders bowed. He collapsed on the sofa, his hands slipping over his lower back with a strong sigh.
"You should have told me,"he finally said. "After all we've been through together, you should have told me. " He looked at us with sadness and I felt sorry for him. "I could have been ready to deal with the consequences. I thought we had more confidence in each other than that."
Elijah began to speak, but Roland intervened. "You're right,"he said. "I should have told you something first. I'm sorry about that.
"But Cecil, there's no turning back. I'm not giving it back, and I'm not hiding. You gonna be able to deal with that?"
Cecil took a deep breath, then rubbed his hands on his face quickly.
"All right,"he said, once again, all business. "Let's talk about turning."
E. C.
There was a reason Cecil Morris was called King of Spin. The guy could wrap the media around his little finger, and turn any situation around around his advantage. By the time we left his suite, he had a complete media strategy in place and was already on his cell phone, putting it in motion. We would be returning to interviews in the coming weeks between the shows and our other engagements.
Half of me thought that all the press was Cecil's way of getting back at us for not telling him about Roland before his time. I knew the interviews weren't listed for any of us.
Well, except maybe Ethan. That bastard would make time on the local news to get some airtime.
I had, in fact. Twice.
He did a good job, too. He was actually offered a regular guest place at the NBC affiliate in Dubuque, but our schedule cut him off at the root.
Ethan was depressed. For some reason, he thought the meteorologists had a lot of women. Read some studio on a website or something. He thought that if he was a man of the time who was already in a boys' band, that meant a lot of girls.
I didn't really get it. I mean, how much shit could a guy need anyway? I guess it was more the idea than anything else, like climbing a mountain or winning a gold medal.
But I digress.
I think we were all a little bewildered by what had happened with Cecil, so we went to our rooms to shower and relax for a while. We had the night off before the madness started the next day, so
I was happy about the downtime.
That lasted about 20 minutes.
I took a quick shower and bent down on the couch, watching TV absently. Then I thought of Daisy right next door....
and I started to feel itchy.
Not in a bad, rude and contagious way. Did I just have... anxiety?
I wanted to see her.
It was a risk, I knew it. I mean, what if someone sees me sneaking into her room?
So I thought, what's the problem? We're bandmates. Maybe we're going over a song or some choreography.
My eyes are glazed. Yeah. We could go over some choreographies. Many choreographies?
I shook my head to clear it. Daisy had turned me into a fucking 14-year-old hormonal idiot. I could only think about touching her... and kissing her... and sliding my hands down?
I shook my head again. Roland told us we had to be careful.
We needed to be careful.
But... that was in public, wasn't it? I mean, no one was on this floor of the hotel with us. No one would know if I slipped next door... just for a while.
And just like that I was looking out for a little crack in my door like a hot James Bond at Nikes, watching any movement in the hallway. I opened the door wide enough to allow through, and then pressed my back against the wall, as if that made me invisible.
Turning my eyes toward myself, I stepped away from the wall a little bit, and took a few steps toward Daisy's door.
I struck silently, my eyes dancing down the aisle anxiously.
I wasn't cut out for this undercover shit. I was very nervous.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally heard the snap of the lock on the other side of the door and Daisy opened it, her eyes cracking open in surprise when she saw me.
"Elijah? Are you all right? " she asked. "What's going on?"
"May I come in? " I looked over my shoulder again. "Are you alone?"
She backed down to let me in. "Yeah. Sure. Come in. "I hurried past her, finally breathing quietly now that she was out of the hallway."
"Elijah, what's going on? " she asked. "Do you look totally scared or..."
She didn't finish her prayer because she couldn't wait a second longer to get her hands on it.
Fuck. I had it pretty bad.
I shoved my hands on her hair and pushed her against the door, kissing her as if she needed to breathe. She gasped in surprise, and I took the opportunity to test her tongue, sucking it gently into my mouth. She complained when I did that, making my dick stand up and pay attention.
I loved it when she complained.
Daisy finally recovered from the shock of being hit without warning, and started kissing me.
Thank God she started kissing me.
I pressed her from head to toe, drowning in the sensation of her body against mine. Her hands slipped under my shirt, scratching my back, and I struggled against the urge to bow against her touch and purr like a fucking cat. My hips pushed her against it of her own free will, and when she responded to the call with a push of her own, I grabbed her to grab her behind a knee and put a leg over my hip.
Her head fell against the door. "Oh, God... Elijah?"
"Shit,"I said with a grunt, rubbing myself against her under increasing pressure. "It's been too long."
She laughed, but came out mixed with a groan. "It's been less than two days."
I put my other hand under her shirt, tucking in Hartmann's blindfold and patting her tit. "Yes. Like I said. Too much time."
I shoved myself into her neck, inhaling deeply before licking and sucking her tender skin.
Her hands slid to hold onto my hair, jerking backwards and backward so she could kiss me again.
Goddamn it. Daisy was getting more aggressive with this shit. Not that I was complaining.
She walked away from the door, wrapping herself around me as I kissed with hunger. Her lips fastened my jaw... my neck... licking and biting and sucking and pushing me over the edge of the cornea about to lose it?
I frantically judged the distance to bed from where we were standing.
Too far away. Too far away.
I got to the button on her jeans, just as she approached mine....
and some asshole had the nerve to knock on the door.
"Ignore her,"I whispered, putting my hand in her pants. She complained, and I frowned at the slippery feel of silicone.
You stupid fucking idiot. He had more action than I did.
I pushed her aside, tucking my fingers into her moisture, and Daisy bit her lip to suffocate her moaning.
The knocks on the door became more insistent. "Tim! " I heard Roland whispering out loud. "Tim, are you there? I need to talk to you. It's important!"
"Shit,"I whispered in her neck.
"He's not going to leave,"she whispered, and with a strong sigh, I walked away from her, pulling grumpy and crankyly from the bandage on her tits.
Daisy laughed a little. "You look like someone stole your puppy."
I smiled in response. "It's a crime to keep them locked up like this."
Daisy clapped her hands over her mouth to suppress her laughter.
I grinned. "They should be loose... wild and free..."?
"Hanging loose"? she repeated through her giggles. "Don't hang up, Elijah."
"Tim? Roland knocked on the door again.
"They do it when you're on top,"I pointed out, and Daisy changed a bright shade of red as I walked away.
Did your phone ring and take it out of your pocket? "Hello? "Her eyes sparkled. "Hi, Roland. Yeah. I'm here. Hang on a second. "She hung up the phone and opened the door."
"We have a problem,"Roland said without preamble. He saw me and stared at me and turned his eyes. "I thought you'd be here. I stopped by your room first.
Way to keep things quiet, guys."
I ignored the digging. "What's going on?"
Roland took his phone out of his pocket. "You need to see this,"he muttered, running his thumb through the touchscreen. He grabbed my phone and I looked at the screen, Daisy leaning over my shoulder.
"Shit,"I breathed.
The picture was taken from afar, granulated and dark, but I knew what it was.
Me.
And Daisy.
Kisses.
Outside the back door.
Shit!
"My God,"muttered Daisy in horror.
"Where did you get this? " I asked, still looking at the fucking picture.
"He's everywhere,"Roland replied, looking for his phone and moving to another photo. This one was at a slightly different angle, and a little closer. "Eddie was online and someone tweeted him. There's a big debate about whether it's you or not.
"You're kidding. " I didn't know how anyone could say it wasn't me. All you could see on every shot was the back of Daisy's head, so she was unrecognizable, but I thought it was pretty obvious that the tallest guy with crazy hair sticking out of a black baseball cap was me.
"Yeah," Roland shrugged, shoving the phone in. "It's pretty blurry, so a lot of people say it's just someone who looks like you... but it's out there, and the Web is going crazy."?
Daisy turned to her desk, opened the laptop and touched some keys. Her hand flew toward her forehead as she flew from place to place. "He's right,"she said. "This is a disaster."
I looked over her shoulder, scanning the tweets
There's no way E. C. is gay... what bitches are crazy!?
First Roland, now E. C.? There aren't any more?
5PtIsMyCrack: That's not E. C... look at his fingers?
Who cares about E. C.? Is the rocket much warmer?
KizzMeMazen: Come on people, let's talk about music...
AhMazening: I always wondered about him - I mean, what straight guy would leave Jill?
And I got a little scared about how angry some people were.
"What the fuck is a Gayzer? " I asked, looking at the word in a blog.
Roland laughed. "They're taking sides: Gayzers and Straytsters,"he expla
ined.
Daisy laughed with laughter. "You're kidding."
I stared at her. "Sure. Laugh it up. No one is debating your sexuality on Twitter.
She sat on the chair, biting her lip in concentration. "You know, Elijah. Maybe this isn't as bad as it looks."
"How can you say that?"
She gestured to the image, which expanded in all its glory on her computer screen. "Look at the picture. It's dark and blurry. Sure, it looks like you, but there's no way to prove it's you.
"He's right,"admitted Roland after a moment. "I mean, we know who he is, so it seems obvious. But most people won't know for sure.
"What are you suggesting? " I asked. "Do you think I should ignore this?"
Daisy nodded. "Ignore. Deny. Redirecting".
"Kind of like politics,"Roland added.
"Do you think anyone will fall in love with that?"
Daisy smiled. "They do it all the time."
I sighed, passing a hand through my hair. "Okay... okay,"I agreed. "We ignore it. He denies it's me. We'll laugh and hope it disappears. "I pointed the accusation at Roland. "But no more fucking gay bars!"?
Roland smiled. "You'll sing a different song when we're in Amsterdam."
"Fuck you."
Daisy
Moving around L. A. when you were in a world-famous boy band was like sneaking into your home after drinking at a high school party. You had to be quick. You had to have all your senses on alert. And you had to know your route (i. e. , which stairs crackled and could wake up your chief police officer father).
And it helped the drivers, bodyguards and hotel security help clear the way.
Yeah. I could have really used Brick after that beer in Rafael Rhodes' first year. I was grounded a month after that.
After an anonymous distraction that caused the paparazzi to head for a strip club in the city centre, we went out the back entrance and got into a limousine waiting. Eddie had some late rehearsals with our support dancers, so it was just the five of us - plus security, of course. The boys told me there was a restaurant with a hamburger that was -quoted, en-credible, unquote - so we headed to Santa Monica, easily evading the paparazzi.
Or so we think.
"Uh…guys? "I said, looking out the back window of the limo. "I think we're being followed."
