A Starr is Born

by Ryan Field

  He’d chosen the red lip gloss to go with his costume for a reason. The costume was a tight red corset, a skimpy red skirt that barely covered his crotch and a red garter belt with red stockings. His six-inch stilettos were the same shade of red and so were his long fingernails. The entire outfit… even his rings… were the same exact shade of red. He’d always preferred a monochromatic look over multi-colored. It made him feel at ease and it gave him a sense of balance that was difficult to describe. Even the thong he was wearing beneath the skimpy little skirt was the same shade of red.

  Harrison had arranged for a car to pick Morton up in Palm Springs and drive him to Los Angeles, where they would meet up in West Hollywood before the awards. The driver pulled up in a massive black SUV 15 minutes early and Morton was already standing at the front door waiting for him. Nico was by Morton’s side, as if trying to anticipate his next move, again. A muscular young blond man in his late 20’s wearing a black outfit jumped out of the car and jogged up the front steps. When he saw Morton standing there in his costume, he stopped and gaped at him for a second.

  Morton wasn’t sure if the guy was gay or straight, and he didn’t really care. He was used to getting that look from men of all ages and he considered it more of a compliment than an insult. He’d achieved what he’d set out to do that night: to look as unusual and outrageous as possible so that people would notice him and stare at him.

  The guy extended his hand and said, “I’m Gregory. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Starr. I’ll be your driver to and from the awards. You look fantastic tonight. Mind-blowing.”

  Morton sent him a smile, and then he shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gregory. Call me Morton. I just have to get my jacket and we can leave.”

  As Morton turned to get his black leather biker jacket, which he’d left on a chair in the hallway, he dropped his keys and bent over to get them without remembering the short red skirt until he was bent all the way over. He looked into a mirror and saw Gregory’s expression and stood up fast. Gregory had watched him bend over, he’d obviously seen his bare ass in the thong, and he looked as if he might start drooling.

  He even ran over to help Morton put on his jacket and said, “You really do look fantastic tonight. Very hot. You’re even better looking in person than in photos.”

  Morton laughed. “Thank you.”

  He placed his palm on the small of Morton’s back and said, “Let me help you to the car.”

  Morton didn’t reply. He let the young man guide him to the back door of the SUV and by the time they were there his palm was resting on Morton’s ass.

  Gregory opened the door with his other hand and Morton laughed and said, “You’re not shy, are you, Gregory?”

  His hand moved and he slid it all the way up the red skirt and he squeezed Morton’s ass a few times. “It can’t hurt to try.”

  Morton shrugged. “I guess not. You know, I like your honesty. Let’s get moving now. I don’t want to be late and we still have to pick up Harrison in West Hollywood. But maybe you can come back home with us after the show tonight. That is, if you’re free.” They hadn’t done a three-way in a while, and Morton knew Harrison wouldn’t mind.

  Gregory patted his ass a few times and then helped him climb into the backseat. “I’m free later. But there’s one thing. Harrison told me to just take you to the awards alone. He’s running late and he said he’ll join you there.”

  This was odd. He wondered why Harrison hadn’t texted him this himself. Morton didn’t want Gregory to know he was worried, so he smiled and said, “That’s fine. I guess he got busy working.”

  Three hours later, Morton was sitting at a table with Sam, Sam’s date, and a few other people he didn’t know very well. Morton kept looking at his phone to check the time and to see if Harrison had texted him, and Sam must have been watching. Sam leaned over and said, “I’m sure he’s fine. Don’t worry, he’ll be here. Your category is up next.”

  Morton smiled. Sam had been good to him, and he’d turned out to be a fantastic manager who only looked out for his best interests. “I know. I just wish he’d get here, is all.”

  Someone on stage started to announce the artists for this category, and Morton’s name was called. Morton heard his name, but he wasn’t really paying attention because he knew he’d never win. He pulled out his chair to get up so he could go to the bathroom and text Harrison, but Sam grabbed his arm and said, “Where are you going?”

  “I just want to text him. I’m worried.”

  “There’s no time,” Sam said. “They just announced your name.”

  Morton laughed. “I’ll never win. Don’t be silly. Did you hear who I’m up against? They are some of the biggest names in the business. Those people deserve to win far more than I do. I’m only a newcomer.” He still couldn’t even believe he’d been nominated twice for two Grammy Awards in the first place. And it wasn’t because of any self-loathing issues. He knew he worked hard for perfection and he made everyone around him work just as hard. Some people didn’t even want to work with him because he set such high standards and never stopped rehearsing. He just hadn’t been around long enough to win an award like this.

  So when they called his name and said he’d just won for best song, he blinked and reached for the table with both hands. When he realized that everyone around him was standing and applauding, he stood up, walked to the front of the room in a daze and accepted the award with a shrug and a humble smile. He said a few words and thanked as many people as he could, and then he left the stage and was escorted back to his table. While they all congratulated him, he couldn’t stop worrying about Harrison. It was one of the most wonderful nights of his life and the most important person in his life was missing.

  A short time later, he stood up and said, “I’ll be right back, Sam. I have to text Harrison again. I’m very worried about him. I can’t think about anything else.”

  Sam held his arm again . “You can go text him after this next category is over. I know he’s fine. Tonight is about you, not Harrison.”

  While they were talking, Morton suddenly overheard them call out his name, again. He couldn’t believe he’d just won the award for Best New Artist. He and Sam exchanged a glance, and Sam stood up and started applauding. Everyone around him stood up and started to applaud. What could he do? He stood up, turned, and headed for the stage one more time where one of the most famous people in the music industry was waiting to hand him the most cherished award in the entire music business. On his way, he wondered how this could have happened. He hadn’t lobbied anyone, he hadn’t made any phone calls to important people, and he thought he’d been on the outside looking in all this time.

  All those years of practice on the drag circuit came in handy that night. He knew how to walk with his head up high, he knew how to carry himself with dignity, and he knew how to smile and appear totally relaxed in front of large groups of people. His dads had taught him those things don’t come easily, but with practice it’s possible to achieve. There would be photos of him all over the Internet in this sexy lingerie costume and his approach had to be confident and grateful. He still couldn’t believe all those people were standing and applauding for him a second time. The only downside to all of this was that Harrison wasn’t there to share it with him, and that left him with a dull feeling at the pit of his stomach he couldn’t shake.

  After he took the award, he stepped up to a podium with a microphone and said, “Thank you once again. I’m in shock. Thank you all so much. This is such a surprise for me. If I’d known I was going to win two awards tonight I would have worn something more conservative, at least underwear.” He’d found that it was important to know how to laugh and joke about himself first, especially with the outrageous costumes he wore.

  The audience applauded louder and he started speaking over them. He didn’t want to make this long. He hadn’t prepared anything because he really didn’t think he’d win anything, but he knew what to say. “First I’d like to than
k the fans. Without them I wouldn’t be standing here now. They’re the ones who drive me to work harder and to continue each day.” He meant every word of this.

  As the applause began to subside, and people took their seats, Morton heard something toward the back of the room. He wasn’t sure what it was until he glanced up and saw Harrison shoving one of the waiters into a table. His face froze; his legs felt weak. Harrison was staggering toward him now, wearing a tuxedo with a white shirt open to the waist. He was the only one in the room still applauding, with his hands high up in the air. While everyone sat there watching Harrison stagger and trip on the steps leading to stage, Morton wished there was a button on the podium that he could push where a trap door would open so he could disappear from view.

  By the time Harrison reached the podium, Morton smiled and tried to pretend there was nothing wrong. Maybe they would think this was all planned. Inside, he was burning and he felt dizzy, and he knew the only thing he could do now was pretend everything was okay and get off the stage as quickly as possible.

  But Harrison yanked the microphone out of his hand and said, “Hey there, you fuckers. You finally got it right this time.” He smiled at Morton and said, “You finally gave an award to someone who fucking deserves it.” Then he turned and kissed Morton on the cheek and slapped his ass. Apparently, he didn’t know Morton had won two awards.

  Morton ignored him. He took the microphone and said, “Thank you everyone. I love you all. Thank you so much.” He had to get Harrison off the stage before he said or did anything worse, so he grabbed him by the arm and practically yanked him into the wings.

  Morton found Gregory waiting for them backstage. “Please get us out of here,” Morton said. “Where’s the car?” He didn’t even want to stop to pick up his jacket or satchel. Sam could get them for him later.

  Gregory nodded. He noticed that Morton wasn’t wearing the black leather jacket so he removed his own jacket and wrapped it around Morton’s shoulders. “I figured that, so that’s why I came back here to get you. Follow me. The car’s out front.”

  At least Gregory had been paying attention, because Morton had never felt so much chagrin in his life. He’d never felt so alone either. By the time they were out in the lobby rushing to the exit, there were so many people staring at them Morton felt panic stricken. His heart started to race and he felt short of breath. Some were shouting his name, others were calling Harrison names. Everyone was snapping a photo and he didn’t even want to think about how all this would look on social media. There was so much noise everything melded together to create one massive overwhelming cacophony that made him dizzy.

  His heart started to race faster, and he reached for Gregory’s hand. Gregory took the awards he’d been carrying for safe keeping and held it for him in his other hand. As Gregory guided him through the crowd to safety, Morton pulled Harrison from behind. At least Harrison was smiling and he seemed to find all this amusing, which was unusual because he wasn’t usually a happy drunk. Sometimes all it took was one little comment to set him off, and then his face turned bright red and a large vein in his forehead bulged.

  Then it happened. The nasty interviewer from the satellite radio station in New York who hated Harrison jumped out at them and asked, “So how does it feel to see your husband on top while you’re on the bottom? Yup. He’s the top, and you’re the bottom.” Only some gay people would have understood that comment. In his own snide way, the interviewer wasn’t just talking about music and their careers. He was bottom shaming Harrison with sexual references.

  Harrison stopped and shifted his gaze to the interviewer. He smiled and made a fist. “What did you say, you little fucker?”

  Morton grabbed Harrison’s arm and said, “Harrison, don’t. Let’s go. He’s an idiot.”

  It was too late. Harrison yanked his arm out of Morton’s hand and Morton fell backward and landed in Gregory’s arms. Harrison took one good swing, knocked the interviewer in the nose, and tried to lunge on top of him. It took four guys from security to pull Harrison back.

  Sam was there and he grabbed Harrison and said, “Get out of here, now.”

  Everyone was watching and taking photos. It was probably already trending on social media. Morton reached for Harrison’s hand and said, “Let’s go. I’m not joking now. The car is here and Gregory will take us home.”

  Harrison seemed to sense that Morton wasn’t playing around anymore. He smiled and said, “Lead the way, cutie. I’m all yours.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Some of the most vituperative members of the media followed them in the car even after they left the Grammy Awards. Morton guessed the vultures wanted to see what else might happen, as if Harrison might jump out of the SUV and go berserk in the middle of the street. It’s a good thing Gregory was as clever as he was good looking, because he knew a short cut that would get them out of Hollywood and leave the media all wondering what they’d missed.

  When they were finally on I 10 and heading back home to Palm Springs, Morton took his first deep breath and tapped Gregory on the shoulder. “Thank you for getting us out of that mess. You’re fantastic. I didn’t want them following us all the way home.” Once they were home it would be difficult for the media to get close to them. The house in Palm Springs sat high on a ridge and was surrounded by tall stucco walls.

  “No problem,” Gregory said. “Those dudes are only looking for clickbait. I know all too well what that’s about.”

  “You do?” Morton asked, and then glanced over at Harrison in the other backseat. His head was resting back on the seat and his eyes were closed. He looked quiet for now, so peaceful and adorable, with one hand on his chest and the other hanging over the arm rest.

  “Oh yes,” Gregory said. “I’m not really a professional driver. I’m only filling in for my brother. He owns the limo business and his wife is having a baby tonight. All of his other vehicles were booked tonight because of the Grammy Awards and his drivers were all busy. He knew how important it was to get you and Harrison to the award ceremony and he didn’t want to back out. So I volunteered to do it for him.”

  “Well isn’t that nice of you,” Morton said. He was smart and decent. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do?”

  He laughed. “I don’t mind. I guess you don’t follow football. I’m Gregory Castell. I made a few headlines last year as one of the first openly gay players in the NFL. Then they dropped me because they said I wasn’t good enough, without mentioning how uncomfortable I made them feel just because I’m gay. I never did anything to cause anyone an ounce of worry, but the minute they found out I was gay, everything changed. So now I’m trying to figure out my next move. I’ve had offers to coach, but I still want to play pro.”

  “I do remember that story,” Morton said. “I don’t follow football, but I remember reading about it online in the gay presses. I found that one question some sports journalist asked you about changing in the locker rooms with other guys particularly annoying. Then you punched him in the face and I felt vindicated.”

  “Yeah,” Gregory said. “I didn’t mean to knock him out, and I know I shouldn’t have done that. It was just a reflex, and of course they blew it all out of proportion. The straight media doesn’t get it yet, and the most liberal are the worst offenders. They think it’s wonderful to be gay, and then they will tell you how to be gay on their terms. At least you know where you stand with the most conservative people. They just hate you.”

  “I wonder if they ever will understand,” Morton said. “I get that kind of homophobia sometimes, too, but it’s a little easier for me because I’m a performer and everyone expects me to be outrageous. The music business is gay-friendly. In your case it must be 10 times as difficult. There are very few things more heteronormative than football.”

  “Tell me about it,” Gregory said. “What’s even more interesting is they don’t even realize how many closeted gay guys there are in football, everywhere. They’re just all terrified to come out. Wh
at happened to me could happen to any one of them, and they know it.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened tonight,” Morton said. “I’m sure you didn’t expect it to turn out like this. Harrison really is a great guy. He’s just been under a lot of stress lately.”

  “Listen,” Gregory said. “There’s no need to apologize to me. I know what it’s like, all too well. And, I’m a huge fan of Harrison Parker.”

  When Harrison heard his name mentioned, he sat up and looked around. It was obvious he was still drunk by the way he slurred his words. “Where are we? Are we home yet? He leaned over and smiled at Morton. He looked at sexy red lingerie costume Morton was still wearing and ran his hand up between Morton’s legs. “Oh yes, this is what I’m talking about. You look so hot, cutie. Come sit on my lap.”

  Morton grabbed his hand and said, “Be good, Harrison. Gregory can see everything.”

  Harrison blinked. “Who’s Gregory?”

  “He’s our driver, and he’s been very nice to us,” Morton said. “I don’t want you making him feel awkward or uncomfortable.”

  “Oh don’t mind me,” Gregory said. “I’ve seen it all by now.”

  Harrison grabbed Morton’s thigh and said, “You see, it’s fine with Gregory. I like Gregory. You’re a nice dude, Gregory.”

  “But it’s not fine with me,” Morton said. “Go back and sleep a little more. You’re still drunk.” He knew that Harrison was trying to initiate something he would never finish, and Morton didn’t want to go through all that. The only thing Harrison needed at that moment was sleep.