by A. C. Katt
Milo looked around. “This is kind of a public place to discuss this, baby, and I did want to discuss it. I don’t want to put you in a bad position or do anything to damage the tentative trust we’ve established. I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do. I can’t lose you again, even for Sam.”
Milo looked over at Sam, who’d just entered the courtyard. “I’m sorry, buddy, it’s just the way it is.”
“It’s okay. Liam has to have a say in it, too. I would have preferred not to spring this all on him at once.”
“Lily always said, ‘needs must when the devil drives.’ Now out with it, both of you.”
Milo and Sam looked at Liam in amazement. Milo said, “Do you know how much you sounded like Lily right then?”
“Maybe I did for a reason. Lily always got straight answers. Now, please,” Liam said. “What does Rick need?”
“How did you know that I wanted to do something for Rick?” Sam asked.
“I sure didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes. You told us Rick needed the money from a tour and Rick was always emotionally needy and no one ever noticed. I’m angry at Rick, but he’s been in rehab four times this past year. He needs something more than rehab, so tell me, what does Rick need besides financial help?”
“When I confronted him about Bart this morning, he confessed it all to me and wanted me to tell you how bad he felt. He knows he did this to himself, the band, his physical condition, everything.”
Sam continued. “Rick felt like Shattered Glass would be his only legacy. He pinned his whole sense of self on that image, singer in a rock and roll band. That is why he fought you so hard against outing Bart as a dealer. He thought it would break up the band. When Bart promised to take him along to a real hard rock band, instead of a pop group, Rick jumped at the chance but only lasted a few months. After that, it was bubble gum, and it killed him. Shattered Glass disintegrated right before his eyes no matter what he did. It seemed to him he fought a losing battle.”
Sam sank into one of the lounge chairs. “Rick didn’t know Bart worked at cross-purposes to him. He knew Bart wanted Milo, but Rick figured if Bart could get him, then Liam’s relationship with Milo was worth shit anyway, and Liam would be better off,” Sam explained. “At least that’s what he said on the phone this morning.”
“You knew this?” Milo fumed at Sam.
“I only know what he told me after I confronted him with what we found out.”
“Hush, Milo,” Liam said. “In that respect, Rick was right. If I couldn’t hold you and keep you by my side, then I shouldn’t have been with you, nor you with me, Bart or no Bart.”
Milo broke in. “I think everyone in this room knows by now that if Bart told you to get an umbrella for rain, you should break out the sunscreen. The man is a pathological liar and a cheat. We’ll get him, but in the meantime, please, Liam, forget anything he said that pertained to us. He lied. He lied to both of us.”
J.B. said, “I understand that Bart had psychological problems, but Rick? Why did Rick betray you and Milo?”
“You answered that yourself earlier today,” Milo said. “Rick felt jealous of Liam. When Bart came along and made Liam’s life a little harder, it took no skin off Rick’s nose.”
Liam put his hand on Milo’s arm. “I did need to be taken down a few pegs. I was arrogant. I wanted to flaunt a relationship that could be detrimental to the band’s semi wholesome image. I presented a danger to Rick’s sense of self and his livelihood. On top of that, he couldn’t think straight. Hedge drugged him up.”
“Thank you, Liam,” Sam added. “You don’t need to defend him. I know Rick fucked up, and I’m ashamed of what he did, especially if he played a role in keeping you and Milo apart.”
“What’s done is done,” Liam impatiently said. “Now, will someone please tell me what it is that Rick needs?”
Sam answered, “A farewell tour for Shattered Glass. I think I mentioned this when I talked to you earlier. The band dissolved with a whimper. Everyone just left. Milo and Liam weren’t the only ones who dealt with the fallout. After Liam recovered, he went out of his way to help the roadies and support personnel. Milo did what he could for the back-up musicians and singers—”
“But no one looked after Rick,” Milo said. “Bart just brought him further down into the gutter and left him there, only showing his face when he needed help to torment Liam.”
Sam said, “I harangued Rick about the drugs and never looked into the why of it. Lily told Milo and I that we needed to take better care of Rick, but we didn’t hear her or didn’t listen. It doesn’t matter which, either produced the same result.”
“We didn’t listen because Rick never complained,” Milo countered. “Everyone else made their needs known. Liam pouted, I roared, and as for Sam, he just needed to ask. Bart had studied each of us in turn and learned which button to push to get whatever reaction he needed to get his way. Everyone had a method or means to get what they wanted—everyone but Rick.”
“What would a tour give him?” Liam asked.
“Closure,” Sam replied. “If the four of us—you, me, Milo, and Rick—could make one last tour, then Rick could leave the rock world with a bang instead of a sputter. It would also provide him with a little financial security.”
“Of course, I’ll do it,” Liam said. “Rick needed us, and we all turned a blind eye. We didn’t act like the brothers we promised to be, remember? We made a pact. Rick did his best under very difficult circumstances. I want to be there for him.”
“Security will be a nightmare,” J.B. protested. “Especially with Bart stalking Liam. We can’t even get a restraining order because Liam’s never filed a complaint.”
“Cut the crap, J.B.,” Milo said. “We’ll pay the freight, whatever it is. And if, sometime during the tour we catch this bastard either trying to entice Rick into using, or torturing small animals to make Liam crazy, we’ll get him. Then this will be over and we’ll be free to live our lives in peace.”
“Deal,” Liam agreed.
“What do I tell the network people about the interview?” Sam wanted to know.
Liam answered, “Tell them they are getting a twofer. I’m going on the air with him. It’s my story too, mine and Lily’s as well as Milo’s. I might as well be a part of telling it.”
J.B. piped in, “You both know you can’t accuse Hedge of murder. The only thing you can prove is that he tried to pry the two of you and the band apart.”
“That and the drugs. That’s not hearsay. I saw that with my own two eyes.” Liam’s eyes shot fire.
“I’m afraid you can’t go there either,” Sam added.
“Why can’t I?”
“Because, as your lawyer, I’m telling you that you will open yourself up to a huge lawsuit that will ruin you, Milo, and Shattered Glass.”
“Okay, then.” Liam sighed. “We’ll bait the trap. I guess I just became a bit of tasty cheddar.”
Chapter 20
Lover, goddamn you, Liam, where are you?
You know I didn’t mean it!
—Milo Stamis, song notes, unrecorded
* * * *
The reporter for NBC news arrived. Liam and Milo spilled their hearts out on camera, to interviewer Joe Menendez.
“So what happens now, Liam?” Joe asked. “You have two successful solo albums. Milo, you have a bestselling book of poetry. Where do the two of you go from here?”
Milo shrugged. “We’re reuniting Shattered Glass for one last tour and album. After that, Liam and I will go where our music takes us.”
“But wherever that is,” Liam added, “it will be together, as a committed couple, out in public. We are who we are. We are as the gods made us. My mother saw that. If by coming out today, we inspire one parent to rethink their stand on their child’s sexuality, or one kid to come out and tell their parents the truth, then we have done something decent and worth the hassle.”
Milo continued. “Our own secrecy left us vulnerable to blackmail and
vicious lies. You can only blackmail someone if they are ashamed, or made to feel ashamed of who and what they are.” His voice choked with emotion. “I am a gay American male, and I am proud of who I am. I am no more and no less than any other American. My sexual orientation is in my genes. It’s not a disease or a psychiatric state. As an American, I’m entitled to all the same rights and privileges that other Americans enjoy. If there’s one thing our blackmailer has accomplished, it’s been to make both Liam and myself activists in the cause of GLBT rights. I will not let anyone, ever again, deny me or deprive me of my right to be with Liam and his to be with me.”
“Are you worried you will lose fans because you came out?”
“I used to be, but not anymore. I don’t think Elton John is hurting for fans. Melissa Etheridge is selling records. There are GLBT recording artists, actors, comedians, lawyers, doctors, and carpenters. We are everywhere you are. We constitute about eight percent of the population. That is a larger portion of the population than some of our country’s most vocal minorities,” Milo stated.
Liam took up their cause. “I’ve always given American music fans more credit than most. They’re usually on the leading edge of any new musical direction, yet they insist on both technical expertise as well as artistic merit from their talent. Music is sold by the appeal of its sound, the purity of its line, merged with melody, harmony and lyrics that can invoke any human emotion with only a refrain. When you listen to music, you hear the sound as it caresses your ears and fires your imagination. It doesn’t really matter who wrote it. The music endures.
“I think our fans will hear our music. If they love it, then they will download it, buy concert tickets, and ask other artists to cover it. The music, the melody plus the lyrics that make the song, are there long after the artist—be he an angel or a rogue—is gone. The music is what matters in the end.”
“Thank you, Milo Stamis and Liam O’Shea. There you have it an NBC Magazine exclusive, inside one of the century’s hottest pop-rock bands, Shattered Glass. This is Joe Menendez saying goodnight for NBC.”
Joe Menendez took off the mini microphone attached to his suit and the stage hands removed those on Liam and Milo.
“I just want to let you guys know that none of the interview will end up on the cutting room floor. It will not be creatively doctored to make it seem as if you said something you didn’t say. I personally guarantee it. I volunteered for this assignment because I’m a gay man. Your story makes me angry. It makes me want to say never again. Here is my card. Call me, and we will talk about educating the populace on the meaning of the words tolerance and acceptance and civil rights. You did a very good thing today, but I think you also threw down the gauntlet to your blackmailer. You know who he is, don’t you?”
“Off the record, yes we do,” Milo answered, “but we don’t have enough to put him away. He was a suspect in the murder of Liam’s father, and he forged a new identity to become a member of our band when Sam went to law school.”
“Bart Hedge, the missing piece of the puzzle,” Joe said. “I knew whomever did this to you must be someone in the band or close to the band. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you really want to help,” Milo said, “ask J.B. what he needs in the way of research. You have more sources than we could ever find, especially in fields other than entertainment.”
“Thanks, Joe,” Liam said. “I didn’t know what to expect, but gaining a friend is a pleasant surprise. Your offer of help is gratefully accepted.”
“I’m a cat lover, you guys. I’d like to get that bastard in a room and find out what he did to Minor and Major. And then I’d break his goddamned neck like he did to the poor kittens. What a psycho.” Joe stood to leave. “Have a good afternoon, guys, or what’s left of it anyway. Call me.”
Fifteen minutes later, the TV personnel, their wires, cameras, lighting, and equipment vanished from the house and loaded on the trucks. Milo, Liam, and Sam watched them from Milo’s second floor bedroom suite.
Chapter 21
“A Promise by Starlight”
Milo:
In the depth of the night, by starlight bright
I gaze upon your sleeping face
So comfortable in my embrace
I touch your hair, I kiss your eyes
I lose myself between your thighs
You waken and you turn to see
Right through my skin to what I need
You offer up your body sweet
Which I devour till replete
Liam:
You make my body glow, a gift only you bestow
Can’t you see my body quake?
Anticipating every touch you make
Only for you does my body sing
To you forever, it does cling
When we are intertwined
I go from mundane to the sublime
Only you can cause this heat
Only with you I am complete
Milo and Liam:
We can see there comes a time
To make the pledge, forever mine
My lover, my partner, and my best friend
Mine until the universe ends
Mine, my love, mine forever
Our pledge now, let no man sever
The gods approve of lasting love
We have a blessing from above
So here and now we take a stand
Let love be, wherever it lands
Woman to woman, man to man
Let love be, wherever it lands.
—Shattered Glass, Reunion album Windows to Forever
* * * *
As they watched the trucks pull out of the drive, Liam turned to Milo and Sam. “It’s past time to bring Rick home. We should all go to pick him up, so he knows we love him and forgive what happened.”
“You are way more forgiving than I could be,” Sam remarked. “But for my brother’s sake, I’m glad you are. Do we all go, Milo? It’s up to you.”
“Yes, we all go. This time, rent a jet. Rick will need the privacy.”
“Oh Lord, how the mighty have fallen,” said Liam, as he keeled over with laughter.
“Baby, you are so going to pay for that. Sam, make sure the damn plane has a bed.”
Conchita served dinner at five. J.B., Sam, Liam, and Milo all sat at the table with Joe Menendez, who Liam invited back to supper. Conchita surprised Liam by serving a savory all-American beef stew with root vegetables. She blushed a deep rose when Joe informed her that her sweet rolls were better than those his abuela used to make.
“Watch it, Joe,” J.B. warned. “In about five minutes, she’ll start plying you with good booze, and you won’t have a secret left to your name. Then she’ll start matchmaking. You poor sod, you don’t have a chance.”
“My brother’s novio has a cousin, and he happens to be a reporter for—”
“Wait a minute. Who told you I’m gay? I don’t hide it, but how did you know?” Joe asked.
“You’ll find I have my ways, Mr. Joe,” Conchita answered, a bit smug.
“She sure does, Joe,” Liam agreed. “I wasn’t here twenty-four hours before she managed to catch me in my birthday suit. Took a real good look, didn’t she, Milo?”
“She surely did, baby, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Unless of course you want me to cut off our supply of sweet rolls.”
“Nooo!” The table as a whole roared, laughing.
“Hmph, whatever,” the lady in question said in dismissal. “Eat that stew, Mr. Liam. You will need something to stick to those skinny ribs of yours if you are going back east. Hopefully, you have enough sense not to stay there. You belong with Mr. Milo, but I tell you nothing you do not already know.” She swept back into the kitchen, the mistress of all she surveyed.
Liam had the good grace to blush and enough sense to keep his mouth shut and concede victory.
Sam said, “We should all get some shut-eye after supper.”
“Joe,” asked Milo, “are you sure y
ou want to travel with us?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Joe answered. “If there is going to be trouble, I want to be right there with you guys.”
“To help them or to get your story?” Sam asked sarcastically.
“Why both, Sam. Both.” Joe grinned.
“Joe,” Liam said, laughing and clapping him on the back, “you are going to fit right in.”
“Yeah,” agreed Milo, “but do you happen to play the sax?” The whole table burst into laughter while Joe looked about in confusion.
“I do,” he answered. “What’s wrong with that?” The laughter got louder.
When some of the hilarity died down, Milo took pity on Joe and let him in on the joke. “Baby, here,” he said, pointing to Liam, “plays the saxophone, very well, in fact. But once he opened his mouth and sang like an angel, he became the lead singer of the band.”
“Can’t sing with a saxophone. Anyway, they never let me play the sax,” Liam whined.
“And just because he’s a brat, Liam put a saxophone into every piece of music he ever wrote for Shattered Glass,” Sam said.
“And at the kick-off press conference for each album, some smart ass would always ask if we shot the sax player,” Milo added.
“I don’t care what you idiots think, and that includes you, Milo. It would have sounded better with the sax.”
“Why don’t we find out?” Milo suggested.
“You up to it, Joe?” asked Liam.
“Sure, as long as you don’t expect me to be Clarence Clemons.”
“J.B. plays a bass guitar,” Sam piped up. “He could do Rick’s music.”
“Sure, as long as this is just for fun.” Joe broke into a big grin. “I can drink for free forever on telling the story of how I jammed with Shattered Glass.”
“Let’s get started. I have all the necessary instruments and music in the studio.”
“What would you like to try, Joe?” asked Liam.
“The tune I’d like to hear you guys sing is a cover you did that was always my favorite, ‘Lover’s Suite.’ Does that have a part for a sax?”
