by C. T. Sloan
I close my eyes. I see my lover. I see him naked, lying on the ground reading the lyrics to that song I wrote earlier today. I see him looking over my crumpled drafts of the song as he tells me, “Nothing you write is imperfect.” I open my eyes. I casually look into the crowd. I lock eyes on my man and I begin to play, “Lover with No Name.” In mere seconds, I go from sheer panic to complete relaxation. My fingers dance across the piano keys with little to no effort. My voice is calm and strong. As I go into my piano solo, I am able to completely relax and work the crowd. When the song ends, everyone is clapping and cheering. I launch right into my next song. The room is getting hot. Sweat begins to mat down my hair and run down my neck. I really feel like I’m fucking. But this time, I am fucking five hundred people at one time. I’m getting them all off with these songs. By the end of my fourth song, I ask the bar for an ice cold glass of Heineken.
After drinking half the bottle, I’m ready to address the crowd for the first time. “This is fun isn’t it?” I ask. The barroom crowd responds with an approving cheer. “I am dedicating tonight to my man. My lover with no name. He’s in the crowd tonight. I know he doesn’t want me to point him out. But he is the reason why I’m up here. He’s the reason why we are all having a great time tonight.” I launch into my next song. The crowd is dancing. I can actually feel the stool shaking under me. For a second, I wonder if we are experiencing an earthquake. As I finish the song, I notice a disturbance in the crowd. I look out and see several firefighters in the crowd. One of the firefighters walks up to the stage and asks me for the microphone. “This establishment is over capacity and has been declared a fire hazard. By order of the Fire Chief, you are to evacuate this establishment immediately.”
What the fuck?! The crowd begins to boo. Someone throws a bottle at the Fire Chief. Now, all hell is breaking loose. I jump off of the stage. My anonymous lover runs over and shields me from the increasingly dangerous situation. We turn around and see several LAPD officers storm into the bar. People are beginning to get knocked over. Bodies are pushing into each other. My lover picks me up and starts to carry me towards the exit. We finally make it outside. My lover carries me a few more feet and then he puts me down. We hug and kiss as a mini-riot begins to erupt right outside the bar. I can hear the police knocking people onto the ground. There’s lots of sirens and screaming. In the middle of the chaos, all that matters to me is the strong embrace of my man.
As we continue to kiss, I get the strange feeling that there are people watching us. I turn around I see about a dozen people from the club videotaping us with their cell phone cameras. My anonymous lover is obviously uncomfortable. Behind the cell phone shooting bystanders is a complete clusterfuck of cops and firefighters trying to get control of the situation. It appears there are a couple of arrests. Out of the craziness emerges my faithful producer, who appears to be holding his forehead.
“What happened?” I ask my producer Jonathan.
“I got knocked over looking for you. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“So is this a bad situation?” my anonymous lover asks the producer.
“Are you kidding me?!” the producer says as his voice rises about three octaves. “This is going to be all over the news. The record labels are just clamoring to get their offers to you. I even had one of the record guys offer me a bribe to get some private time with you. Come on, let’s go to my office. The offers should be coming in within the hour.”
My anonymous lover and I get back into the Ferrari and drive about four blocks north to Jonathan Ellis’ production house. It is a little after 11:00. We walk back to Jonathan’s office and relax with some light snacks from the vending machine down the hall.
“Your whole world is going to change in about an hour,” Jonathan says as he opens a package of M&Ms.
“My whole world seems to be changing every hour right now,” I say as I glance over to my anonymous lover.
“So I was thinking that you should agree to a contract pending one final look-over from an entertainment lawyer. I have a list of attorneys for you to look at after we review the contracts,” Jonathan explains.
We nervously wait for about twenty minutes. Jonathan grabs an acoustic guitar and strums a few chords as the clock turns to midnight. A slight chime rings out from the producer’s cell phone and he picks it up. The producer listens and writes down a few numbers. Then he hangs up and looks at me. “First offer is a three record deal with a $500,000 signing bonus.”
I jump up and down like I’ve hit the lottery. Then I begin to cry. I realize that I’ll never have to answer phones at a receptionist desk ever again. This is it. I am a professional musician. My lover hugs me as I collapse on the ground.
“That’s a good first offer,” the producer says.
“A good first offer?!” I question through my tears.
“Yeah.”
Jonathan’s phone rings again. The call is quick. He jots down some numbers. “Three record deal. 750,” the producer says.
“Seven hundred and fifty-thousand dollars?!” I say slowly, drawing out every word of that gigantic number.
“It’s getting better. But the big boys haven’t called in yet,” the producer says calmly. Now, I go from being elated to being scared. I stagger over to the large leather sofa and crumble on top of it. This is too much for me to handle!
My head is just spinning. I sit up. My anonymous lover offers me a glass of ice water. He sits next to me and makes me feel so much more comfortable. “You want to get some air?” my lover asks me. That sounds like a good idea. I get up and leave the office while Jonathan continues to handle in the influx of recording offers. My lover and I drift around the hallways not knowing exactly where the exit is located. After a minute or so of navigating the maze of hallways, he refers to the illuminated exit signs and we find our way out.
We just stand right outside the entrance to the production house. My anonymous lover holds the front door open with his foot so we don’t get locked out. I arch my head back and look up at the full moon peeking through the hazy Santa Monica night sky. I begin to howl. It’s one of those cathartic things. The past few weeks of my life have been so seismic that all I can do is howl at the moon.
“That is one of the most normal things I have seen you do this evening,” my lover jokes.
“Yeah, it’s been that kind of night,” I say as I hug my lover. I continue to hold on to this man who gave me the positive energy to get up on stage and pursue my art. I swear this man must be some sort of angel. He has given me an escape route from my aimless and unfulfilling life. I know he is enjoying my transformation. I want to be great for him. I want him to be proud of me.
“Come on. We should get back and find out the latest,” my lover advises.
We walk back into the production building. This time, we are able to quickly navigate our way to the building. Finding Jonathan’s office is rather easy since it is the only part of the building with any activity. As we walk back into the office, we see the producer shuffling various papers in front of him.
“All the offers are in,” the producer says. Then he looks at me. “You had better sit down.”
I nervously take a seat on the leather sofa. My anonymous lover sits down next to me.
“We had a couple of more offers that came in for half a million,” Jonathan explains. “Those offers came from small labels. Warner Music Group came in with a million dollar offer over three records.”
“A million?!” I say as my voice cracks.
“Yep. It’s a good deal. About a minute later, Live Nation offers a million and a quarter for two records and a sixty date tour commitment,” the producer says as he refers to his notes. At this point, I am seriously worried that my heart is going to explode. Jonathan holds one piece of paper in his right hand while discarding all the other papers with his other hand. “The Warner and Live Nation offers were great. This one is the best,” Jonathan says as he holds the piece of paper in his hand. “Sony Music Group. Three record
s. One point five million dollars.”
I can not comprehend the words that just came out of my producer’s mouth. I look over at my anonymous lover who is calm, cool and collected. Of course, one point five million dollars is probably not a big deal to him. But that’s more money than I thought I would ever get in a lifetime! I could say “yes” and all of my problems would be solved. I can do what I love - play the piano - and never have to work a horrible job again.
“Sony is a great company, Carrie. They have an excellent marketing team and they have several record labels that can fit perfectly with your music,” Jonathan explains. I look over at my anonymous lover. He calmly looks at me.
“What should I do?” I ask my lover calmly.
“I would tell them to double it,” he says.
Never in a million years would I ever imagine that I would turn down over a million dollars. My anonymous lover is wealthy. He makes his money doing some sort of business. And I would be a fool to not trust his words. I look at the producer and say, “Tell them to double it.”
“What?!” Jonathan says. He is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. And for a moment, I’m thinking that I am going crazy.
“Tell them to double it,” I repeat calmly.
Jonathan just looks at his phone for a moment. He calls Sony and tells them the news, “Carrie would love to sign with Sony. However, she wants you to take another look at the one point five number.”
There is a moment of silence as Jonathan listens to the conversation on the other side of the line. Then he calmly says, “She wants double that number.” Jonathan places the phone away from his ear. I can hear the people screaming from the other side of the line. My anonymous lover places his right hand on my knee as a way of keeping me calm.
Jonathan puts down the phone. “The President of the Record division is going to wake up the Chairman,” the producer says.
I place my head in my heads. I can’t believe I just turned down one point five million dollars! Just a few days ago, I was working for fifteen dollars an hour. I am going to blow this. I think I am going to be sick. I jump up from the sofa and run out of the room. I wander down the hallway. It’s hard for me to keep my balance. The hallway floor feels uneven. Everything is getting blurry. I think I am about to pass out.
As I turn the corner, I find the restrooms. I push myself into the ladies room and head for one of the sinks. I turn on the water and just splash my face until I am drenched. Then I look into the mirror. For a full minute, I just stare at myself and try not to have a nervous breakdown. It takes several minutes for me to regain my composure. I casually walk out of the bathroom and make my way back to Jonathan’s office. My anonymous lover is completely relaxed, sitting back on the leather sofa. Jonathan, on the other hand, is a nervous wreck. He is hunched over his cell phone with his chin resting on his hands.
I sit down next to my lover. I rest my head on his strong shoulders. My lover leans in and whispers to me, “So where do you want to go eat afterwards.” I look at him like he is crazy. My entire future hangs in the balance of a phone call and he wants to talk about having dinner. I’m so wound up that I can’t even answer him. Suddenly, Jonathan’s phone rings. The producer grabs the iPhone so quickly, it bounces out of his hands and lands on the floor. Jonathan nervously picks up the phone and answers.
“Hello?” Jonathan says. He listens for a moment. Then his eyebrows arch upward. He grabs a piece of paper and writes something down. “Thank you, sir. I’m going to relay the number over to Carrie right now.” My producer looks at me and says with a smile, “Two point five million.”
I place my hands over my face. Tears stream down my cheeks. I look over at my anonymous lover who says softly, “Take it.” I hug my man and then I jump up from the sofa and say, “Yes! Yes! I’ll take it!”
Jonathan picks up the phone and says, “Carrie has accepted your offer.” I jump up and down on the sofa. My anonymous lover laughs. It’s the first time I’ve seen him display that much emotion. He really seems to enjoy my elation. I jump down from the sofa and embrace my man as Jonathan works over the details of the contract.
After my producer hangs up the phone, I run over and give him a nice big hug. Jonathan tries to calm me down as he explains what will happen next. “Sony is going to courier the contract over here at 9:00 a.m. I would like to send the contract over to my entertainment attorney Alison Lipowitz. I’ve worked with her for over twenty years. She can review the details of the deal before you sign it,” Jonathan explains as he walks over to a fridge under his minibar.
My producer pulls out a bottle of champagne. He pops open the cork and allows his carpet to get stained with the white foamy drink. We grab some glasses and make a toast. “To Carrie,” my producer says, “The world is your songbook.”
We clink glasses. Oh fuck, I’m going to cry again. This is becoming too much for me. My anonymous lover takes a sip. He seems content to drink only a little bit since he doesn’t want to leave his Ferrari in Santa Monica overnight. That’s okay. I’ll get nice and sauced along with my producer.
“The media is going to get a little crazy when news of the deal gets out,” my producer warns. It looks like I’m going to have to get used to my world changing in more ways than one.
***
I am blindfolded, in the Ferrari, with my top off. I can’t help it. Perhaps I am a little drunk and more than a little horny. I swear if I didn’t have this blindfold on, I would dive on my lover’s dick. But I think it’s a good idea to let my anonymous lover concentrate on the road. I think he is doing twice the posted speed limit on PCH. I feel my lover play with my tits as he speeds back towards Malibu. He runs his hands down between my legs. I’m more than happy to get completely naked for my man.
“You are going to make it really hard for me to concentrate on the road,” my lover says.
“I just want to be naked so bad!” I tell him.
“Now, that’s a good girl,” he says.
I begin to play with my nipples as my lover works his free hand between my legs. I take one of my free hands and begin to fumble with that big bulge in his pants. It doesn’t take me long to completely disregard highway safety and go for that dick.
I unzip my lover’s pants and pull out that thick rod of his. There is something about grabbing a hard dick while blindfolded. My imagination runs wild. I begin to kiss that hard dick while my lover spanks my ass. My lover places his free hand on my head. I open my mouth and slowly slide my wet lips down on that dick. Judging by my lover’s moans, I am doing a rather fine job considering the tight confines of this exotic sports car. The great thing about being blindfolded is that I can only imagine what my anonymous lover’s facial expressions must look like.
As I am sucking off my man, I feel the car veer off to the side of the road. The engine is turned off. My lover pulls my head off of his cock and rips the blindfold off of my eyes. The first thing I see is my lover frantically trying to get undressed. “Dammit. I can’t wait until we get back to my place.” Hey, my lover couldn’t give me a higher compliment. He opens the door to his Ferrari. I can hear the traffic on PCH while the driver’s side door is open. A few seconds later, the passenger’s side door is open. My anonymous lover pulls me out of the Ferrari and bends me over the front of the car. I feel him tie that blindfold around my wrists.
My lover pushes my face right down on the hood of the car while he slowly dry humps my ass cheeks. Hearing the traffic speed by makes me so excited. The thought that someone could be watching us get ready to fuck is really turning me on. Perhaps playing in front of crowds is turning me into an exhibitionist. I feel my man’s cock slowly enter me from behind. I arch my back as my lover goes deep. He grabs my shoulders and begins to slowly grind his dick deep inside of my body.
“I just love the way your young body looks from every angle,” he says. He begins to slowly pump me. The right side of my face is pressed hard against the hood of my lover’s $400,000 Ferrari. The fact that I am getting fuck
ed on such a nice car makes me feel special. I know that sounds superficial. But this would not be nearly as romantic if I were bent over my ten year old Honda. My lover pulls on my hair and starts to pump me faster and faster. I begin to moan. My lover places his right hand over my mouth. Now, I’m getting fucked at full speed.
My lover pulls out and turns me around. He pushes me onto the hood of the car. I am on my back with my legs propped up into the air. I stare at my lover’s strong chest and flat stomach as he prepares to give me more of that wonderful dick of his. My anonymous lover enters me as headlights pass over both of our bodies. Yes, I am sure that people see us fucking. It wouldn’t surprise me if we “inspire” several car accidents before this is all over.
We fuck harder and harder. I reach up and grab my man’s chest. I pinch my nipples and play with my tits. Then he starts to slap me as I get my brains fucked out of my head. The feeling is so intense that I start to scream. Now I know we are going to get in trouble. I get closer and closer to the ultimate climax. My lover pushes his cock all the way inside of my body and grits his teeth. We both come harder than we’ve ever come before. My chest heaves. I can feel the veins popping out of my neck. As I release from that orgasmic high, a lone tear streams down my cheek.
