Third You Die (Kevin Connor Mystery)

Home > Other > Third You Die (Kevin Connor Mystery) > Page 17
Third You Die (Kevin Connor Mystery) Page 17

by Sherman, Scott


  “And I was right. Your skin photographs like silk. So inviting.

  “You could be a star, Kevin. I’ll even pay for the plastic surgery if there’s a way it will diminish that scarring. I’d make that kind of investment in you, Kevin, because I believe in you. You can even act. You may be the total package.

  “So, how about we stop this cat-and-mouse inquiry of yours and just shoot the damn video?”

  Mason was getting irritated, and I didn’t think he was the kind of man who put up with being put off. The scar had dampened his enthusiasm, as had my questioning. His tone told me I was about to lose him. I had to pull him back.

  “If I did work with you,” I said, feigning interest, “what kind of money are we talking about?”

  “For a full feature?” Mason asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Twenty-five K,” he said. “To start.”

  “I make more than that now,” I told him.

  “I’m sure you do,” he said condescendingly. “But we’re talking a week’s work.

  “We wouldn’t want to overexpose you, so figure ten films your first year. You do the math.”

  Multiplication was my Kryptonite, but even I could figure out that came to $250,000.

  “Then, of course, there’d be personal appearances and product endorsements. You should be able to pull in another fifty thousand doing those. Maybe some magazine shoots. Some of my models do escort work, too. You’d be amazed what people will pay to . . . date . . . an adult film star.

  “Depending on how ambitious you were, and how hard you were willing to work, I’d say you could come close to making half a million dollars your first year with us.

  “Not to mention the free plastic surgery,” he threw in with a salesman’s flourish.

  Well, now I understood why someone like Brent was doing adult films. That was an awful lot of money. And while I expect Mason was exaggerating, I didn’t think he was out-and-out lying.

  Of course, most guys in the industry weren’t making that much. But Mason was clearly positioning me as one of SwordFight’s tentpole performers.

  He’d said as much on the phone. I’d be the new Brent Havens.

  Which brought me back to the question of what happened to the current one.

  22

  The Dream Team

  “We had a deal,” I said.

  Mason redirected his attention from the image of me on the screen to the real one sitting right there. I think he was surprised I wasn’t jumping on the money right away.

  “You said that if I agreed to this audition, you’d answer my questions. I’m doing my part. Now, it’s your turn again.”

  Mason looked flabbergasted that I was persisting with this. Hadn’t he just offered me half a million dollars? Just what kind of idiot was I?

  “Look,” I said. “I can’t say I’m not interested. That’s a lot of money. A lot. I didn’t think I’d ever even consider something like this, but, I have to say, I never expected it could be so . . . rewarding. And, now that I think about it, the guys who came to the taping that day, Brock, Brent, the others—they didn’t seem too unhappy or anything. You’ve got my attention.”

  Mason grinned hungrily. Like a shark.

  “But if I went into business with SwordFight, I’d have to be able to trust you. Which is why I say: We had a deal. If you don’t keep this one, how can I believe you’ll keep the others?”

  Mason sat back down. “I have to say, you surprise me, Kevin. You’re a smart kid. I could see you going places.

  “You know, Pierce started here like you. You kind of remind me of him.”

  Pierce made a strangled noise that sounded like a cross between a gag and a snort. I was also offended by the comparison but hid my feelings better.

  “He began his career with SwordFight as a performer but has become much more. He’s my right arm. He handles the talent, he knows the business side of things, and he’s even directed.”

  So why do you have him answering the phones? I wondered.

  “You have a lot of potential, Kevin. So, I’ll answer your questions. Because you’re right—we did have a deal. I have a better one for you, mind you, but I’ll keep the one we have.

  “You can say a lot of things about me, Kevin, but you’ll find that I’m quite honest in my business dealings. I don’t screw my partners—in any way. You’ll always be treated like a professional here. So, ask away.”

  I tried to remember where we’d been. Mason had given me Brent’s application, which I had in my pocket.... We’d talked about whether someone who’d seen his videos might have gone after him. . . . Oh yeah. I knew what to ask.

  “You said Brent never complained to you about an overzealous fan,” I said. “But you implied there was someone who might have been stalking him. Who was it?”

  “That’s such an ugly word,” Mason said. He crossed his arms again. “I don’t know it went so far that I’d call it stalking.”

  “How far did it go?” I asked. “And who was it?”

  “One of the other models here. Lucas Fisher,” Mason answered the second question.

  Lucas Fisher. The boy Freddy and I had seen in that dorm room video with Brent. We both thought Lucas’s hunger for his co-star went beyond mere acting.

  Brent’s boyfriend, Charlie, also talked about Lucas. He said Lucas had asked Brent out several times, and seemed to have trouble taking no for an answer.

  Now, his name was coming up for a third time.

  I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time, either.

  I was going to have to talk to Lucas Fisher.

  “What did Lucas do?” I asked.

  “Some background first. If you’re going to be working with us, you deserve to hear the kinds of things that sometime come up—and how we handle them.”

  I decided not to point out that I hadn’t agreed to work with him at all. It was clear Mason assumed that even though I expressed some ambivalence, there was no way I’d pass up the opportunity to make the kind of money he’d offered. As far as he was concerned, I was already part of his stable. I resented his arrogance, but if it made him more open to being truthful, I could live with it.

  Of course, I knew that if I led him on like this, and then backed out, he’d be even more bitter than if I’d simply rejected him to begin with. But that wasn’t my plan.

  If things worked out the way I hoped, it’d be him rejecting me. But that was yet to come.

  I scooted back on the bed so that my back was against the headboard, grateful for the opportunity. This was a position I was counting on being able to get into to pull off the rest of my plan.

  But to Mason, I must have seemed like an eager eight-year-old ready to hear his favorite story. Good. The more he relaxed his guard, the better for me. “You’re right,” I said. I gave him my best fake-sincere smile. “I appreciate your understanding my . . . mixed feelings.”

  “Naturally, I do,” Mason said. “It’s not like I haven’t had them myself at times.”

  The only feelings I imagined he ever had were pride and greed. I suppose you could mix them, but the result would be bitter.

  “You need to understand what it’s like to work on the set of an adult film. Especially for the models. But first, you have to understand the audience.

  “It’s strange—when someone watches a Die Hard movie, they don’t think Bruce Willis is really getting thrown from buildings and running from explosions. When Julie Andrews sings ‘My Favorite Things’ to comfort her charges in The Sound of Music, the audience doesn’t believe she really wants to marry that old man and adopt those adorable little Nazis-in-waiting. Yes, we all swoon when Richard Gere sweeps Julia Roberts off her feet in Pretty Woman, but as convincing as those two actors are, we understand they’re just pretending. When the director yells cut, we know they go to their separate trailers to complain to their agents or abuse their personal assistants.

  “But with all-male porn, everyone wonders ‘Is it real? Are the actors really enj
oying themselves? Are they even gay?’

  “When most people ask me that, I ask, ‘Does it matter?’ We know Willis isn’t really a New York City cop with the most amazing recuperative powers this side of Wolverine, that Andrews isn’t really a virginal nun, and that Roberts isn’t that dullest of clichés: the whore with a heart of gold.”

  Hey, what’s so unbelievable about that last one?

  “Who cares if the actors are having a good time or not?” Mason asked, then answered himself.

  “The only question that matters is: Is the viewer having a good time?

  “That being said, it’s a lot easier to pretend that you’re suddenly inspired to sing some dumb song about whiskers on kittens or that you find Richard Gere attractive than it is to maintain an erection and ejaculate. I mean, let’s face it, there are some things we just can’t fake.

  “When you see a guy get hard and come, you know, on some level, he’s having a pleasurable experience. But Roberts and Gere probably enjoyed kissing each other, too. It’s just a physical act.

  “And while we haven’t yet gotten to the point where digital effects can reliably and believably be used to simulate male sexual performance, there’s still a lot of ‘movie magic’ and editing that goes on behind the scenes. So, while you may see an actor shoot his load across his co-star’s back, it’s not that ass, no matter how spectacular it may be, that’s getting him off. What we don’t show you is the ten minutes the top had to spend stroking off to a girlie magazine to get to that stage.

  “My point is, what goes on between the actors on an adult movie set isn’t love. It isn’t really even sex. It’s a performance. Sure, sometimes it becomes something more. ‘Real’ movie stars sometimes fall in love, too. Look at Elizabeth Taylor’s history. But that’s the exception, not the rule.”

  “Lucas,” I said, “was an exception, wasn’t he?”

  “He came to me after the first scene he ever shot with Brent. It was in a movie called . . .” He glanced over at Pierce. “Do you remember?”

  “School Gayz,” Pierce grumbled, resenting the instruction to be helpful to me in any way.

  “School Gayz, yes,” Mason said slowly. “We filmed that at a real college—between semesters, of course. The dean was a fan of ours.

  “I was on set for that shoot. I’d set up a small office in one of the empty dorm rooms there. I hadn’t seen the shooting of the scene between Lucas and Brent. I didn’t even know it’d been finished. So, when Lucas came in to chat, I wasn’t on my guard.

  “Lucas was a beautiful boy. The golden-haired surfer type. He’d never be a top-level star, but he was a steady performer with a loyal following. I don’t think he was a hundred-percent gay, but he certainly came to enjoy sex with men. There’s a lot of gossip on a movie set, mainstream or otherwise, and I’d heard he’d partied with some of his co-stars on the side. He also was hustling.

  “In any case, it wasn’t unusual for Lucas to hang out with me. He was a huge flirt. Even though he knew I wasn’t going to do anything with him (as I told you, I never touch a model), it was in his nature to play up to a man he saw as being in a position to help his career. Maybe he even enjoyed talking with me, who knows? He wasn’t the brightest bulb on the set, but he was charming and adorable. I was always happy to see him.

  “So, on that day, it took a while before I noticed something was up. He was doing his usual shtick of entertaining me with stories and gossip from the set, mixed in with references to surfing and skateboards I never understood, when I realized he was asking more and more questions about one of his co-stars.”

  “Brent Havens,” I supplied.

  “Exactly. It began with the kind of conversation he might make about any of the models on the set. ‘So, is this his first movie?’ ‘Where did you find him?’ ‘What’s his deal in real life—is he into guys or girls?’ The usual gossip.

  “Then, it got more personal. ‘Does he have a boyfriend?’ ‘Do you know what kind of guy he likes?’ ‘Where does he live?’

  “It took me a while to figure out what was going on. Lucas had fallen for Brent. Like I said, it’s not that it never happens. But it’s not usually that fast. Or that obvious.

  “It was actually,” Mason observed, sounding wistful, “kind of sweet. Lucas was like a thirteen-year-old girl meeting Justin Bieber. I answered what questions I could, and dodged the ones I couldn’t. Overall, though, I encouraged Lucas. I told him he should tell Brent he was interested.

  “Lucas blushed red as a fire truck. He tried to tell me he was ‘just curious.’ I let him get away with it, but I knew he was lying. I wasn’t sure how deep it went, though—whether he was lying to me, or to himself, too. I didn’t know much about Lucas. Was he emotionally developed enough to understand how an on-set infatuation burns hot but soon burns out? They’re like summer camp romances—you’re sure they’ll last forever, but once you’re back home, you never think of him again.

  “In any case, when Lucas left, his usual cocky strut was a little less confident. I called the director, who was just finishing up for the day, and asked him to show me the scene he’d shot with Lucas and Brent.

  “I remember him asking, ‘So, you heard about that, huh?’

  “ ‘Heard about what?’ I asked him. ‘What was there to hear? Did something bad happen?’ If there was trouble on the set, the director should have come to me. That’s why I was there.

  “The director heard my concern. ‘Nothing bad,’ he assured me, ‘but something you’ll want to see. Something extraordinary. But I’ll be there in a few minutes. You can judge for yourself.’

  “Of course, at that point, all we had was the raw footage. Usually, watching the films before they’re edited is an exercise in the most extreme form of tedium. There are hours of starts and stops, models fluffing themselves, and limp dicks. It’s not fun.

  “But this scene was different. It was shot in one take. There was no fluffing needed. In fact, I’m lucky the boys held out as long as they did.”

  Mason gazed up and to the left, as if pulling out memories. “It was . . . magic. Pure sexual chemistry, captured on film. The director told me there wasn’t a person on set who didn’t almost pop a load themselves just watching it.

  “Unfortunately, as so often happens in real life, people can mistake great sex for something more than it is. At least, Lucas did. He came and spoke with me a few days later. He was more open about his feelings this time. He told me he was in love with Brent.

  “Who knows what creates the kind of sexual chemistry that occurred between those two? Is it pheromones? Genetic? I can’t say. But I did know it wasn’t love. It was infatuation, perhaps, but not love.

  “I tried to explain that to Lucas. I didn’t want to see him get hurt. I told him how easy it is to confuse the rush of endorphins we get from an intense orgasm with something more meaningful. I told him to take things slowly with Brent and not to get his hopes up.

  “Lucas listened carefully, and nodded at all the right times, but I don’t think he believed me. Why would he? When has anyone ever been able to convince a young person that their romance wasn’t real?

  “In the meantime, the director of School Dayz approached me with an idea. Seeing the incredible energy between the two, he suggested a follow-up movie called Brent & Lucas: More Than Friends. He knew the scenes between them in School Dayz would be a sensation, and that a movie that put them front and center would be a huge success.”

  Mason shifted in his sagging seat, uncomfortable. He stood and paced as he told me the rest of his tale.

  “Green-lighting that project was one of the few things I’ve done in my career that I honestly regret. I knew Lucas was in over his head with Brent. I also knew, although only from what Lucas had told me, that the feelings weren’t reciprocated. Had I been thinking of Lucas, instead of how much money I’d make, I would have said no. In my heart, I knew that putting Lucas through more weeks of intimate contact with Brent would wind up hurting them both.

 
; “But I said yes. And More Than Friends was one of our biggest hits ever.

  “But it came at a price.

  “Halfway through its taping, Brent came to see me. He told me Lucas was being inappropriate. That he’d told Brent that he loved him.

  “Brent said he was kind to Lucas, but he made it clear he wasn’t interested. He explained he was already involved with someone.

  “But Lucas insisted they were ‘meant to be.’ He called Brent at all times of the day and night, brought unwanted presents to the set, threatened to hurt himself if Brent wouldn’t see him. It got ugly.

  “One night, about a week after filming More Than Friends, I realized I’d left something in the office that I needed at home. I got there around ten and found Lucas had broken into my office. He was looking for information about Brent. Pictures, Brent’s home address and phone number, anything he could find.

  “When he saw me, he burst into tears. He knew he was out of control but couldn’t stop himself. I called my therapist right then and there. He agreed to talk to Lucas on the phone and they made an appointment for the next day.

  “Things seemed to settle down after that. Lucas told me my therapist referred him to another doctor and that he was going weekly. Brent told me the harassment stopped. When the movie came out, we sent them out to do some publicity together and there were no major problems.

  “But there were minor ones?” I asked.

  “Brent never gave me details. But I could tell something still bothered him about Lucas. For the most part, though, things went well.

  “I never put them together in another movie, however. Lucas asked about it a few times, but I put him off. He lobbied hard for a sequel to More Than Friends. So did a lot of people at the company. The movie was a huge success.

  “But, believe it or not, money isn’t the only thing I care about, Kevin. I cared about those kids, and I thought keeping them separated was best for both of them.

 

‹ Prev