by D. J. Manly
“Well,” Noah replied bitterly, “I’m going to do what I have to do.” He closed the phone suddenly because he couldn’t let Ace hear the pain in his voice. He had to wait for a few minutes before he drove back out onto the road because his eyes were blinded with tears.
The following days leading up to the publication of the photographs were both exhilarating and hectic. The lawyers for Savage Heat were battling it out with the lawyers for Hide, and as the hour of publication grew closer, the legal team who’d worked tirelessly for the entertainment industry’s bad boys of rock and roll backed down, admitting defeat. Brian Jacobs’ time had come. He was about to be dragged out of the closet kicking and screaming. No amount of money could get them to destroy those photographs.
Barb had written a first-class article and even managed to get a quote from the prostitute in question, who had asked to remain anonymous while confirming everything.
The staff was very excited, and proud at how hard they’d worked on this but just twelve hours before the article was due to hit the printers, Noah’s enthusiasm began to wane. Instead of celebrating with the gang down at the local bar, he sat alone in a bar uptown where no one knew him, drinking quietly.
Ironically, a video of Savage Heat came on the big screen. They were performing their newest hit, a song called, “Just Another Night,” and Ace Taylor played one hell of a fantastic drum solo, one that caused the crowd to go into a frenzy, chanting his name like the faithful would do for an idolized saint.
When it was over, Noah stood, wiped the residue of the last whiskey he’d drunk from his lips and returned to the office. While the printing presses were still now, they would be powered up in about two hours, and Brian Jacobs’ fate would be left up to his adoring public.
Noah took the elevator to his office. He turned on his computer and stared at the copy and the glossy photographs of the hot rock star molesting the half-naked whore in front of the hotel. Perfect. The headline read, “Lead Singer of Savage Heat, Brian Jacobs, Outed!”
For a few seconds, his finger hovered over the Save button. Then he moved on down to Delete.
One stroke and the article disappeared like a puff of smoke.
He lowered his head. Barb would hate him. The staff would wonder if he’d lost his mind. He couldn’t do it. If that night we spent together meant anything at all to you … The thing was, that night had meant everything. And he couldn’t forget it. He would never mean anything to Ace, but he’d let him know that he wasn’t the lowlife Ace believed him to be.
The tears fell for a few minutes then he brushed them away. He had an article to write and not a hell of a lot of time to do it. He had to do it before the copy went to print. He brought up a blank screen and began to write.
When he was finished, he proofed it himself and inserted it into the space where Brian’s exposé had been. The article was titled “Exposed: A Publisher Caught with His Pants Down.” If anything, the title would get attention. He hadn’t mentioned Ace’s name. He only wrote that someone he’d wanted to out for some time got the better of him. When it came my turn to air my dirty laundry, so to speak, I paid the price. I didn’t want the world to know that I’d bribed someone to sleep with me in exchange for my silence. How shameful. But in all honesty, my reasons for wanting to out someone who was never really hiding anyway were not professional. They were entirely personal. Now, this guy wouldn’t look at me twice if he saw me on the street. I’ve lost him forever. So, what goes around comes around, as they say. I still believe that closeted men need to come out. If we’re going to make this world a more tolerant place, then the world needs to know that the people they may least suspect to be gay, are. But. Maybe it’s not right to expose them when they’re not ready. Maybe it’s the role of this magazine to support them when they are ready. So I won’t make the closet more comfortable; I just won’t break off the lock.
Noah spent the rest of the night sitting at his desk, his feet up. He watched the sunrise come up as the clack-clacking of the printers did their jobs. This edition would be on the stands by late tonight.
George was surprised to see him when he switched the office lights on. “What are you doing here?”
“I came in early.”
“I’m going right down now and pick up some copies.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait.”
Noah closed his eyes. “Yes, you can,” he said under his breath as George left.
A few minutes later, George was back, frantically flipping through the magazine. “Where is it? Where in the hell is it? It was supposed to be page nine. Did something screw up?”
“It’s not in there.”
“What do you mean … it’s…?” He looked up. “Noah. What do you mean, it’s not in there?”
Noah lowered his feet and stood up, stretching. “It’s not in there. I didn’t send it to the printers.”
“This has to do with Ace Taylor?”
“No. This has to do with me.”
“I’m your partner. You didn’t even consult me.”
“You wouldn’t have allowed me to do it.”
“Damn right I wouldn’t have allowed you do it.”
“We need to change the focus of Hide.”
“What do you mean, change the focus? Have you lost your mind? Why mess with a winning formula? You know how damn competitive this market is.”
“We need to encourage men who are in the closet, not frighten them, and reward those who have had the courage to come out. Read the article on page twelve, and call a meeting for later this morning. I’m going for breakfast.” Noah grabbed his jacket and left his office.
Barb quit on him. He couldn’t blame her. And his employees weren’t sure what alien had come down from Mars and taken him over. They were in shock. And so was George, who listened with skepticism to Noah’s ideas for taking the magazine in a new direction.
“Who’s going to read this?” George asked after the meeting was over.
“Gay men will read it. I want interviews with athletes, pop stars, actors, politicians, military men, priests even, those men who have been thrown out of their jobs, their lives destroyed because of their bravery to stand up for who they are. I want stories that inspire.”
“Ah, aren’t we going to have to change the name of the magazine?” George muttered, jotting down everything.
“Yeah, we’ll talk about that.”
“You know, this just might work,” George said. “It took guts to write that article, Noah. I admire that. Do you think he’ll read it?”
“I didn’t write it for Ace. I wrote it for me. And I hope so.” He smiled. “It would be a fringe benefit. Maybe he won’t hate me so much.”
“I don’t think he ever hated you.”
“Thanks. Let’s get to work.”
What with changing the entire concept of the magazine, the following weeks were brutal. Noah was amazed at the response he was getting from out gay men who were hyped about being interviewed. They already had more than enough material for their first edition.
One Friday night, just hours before the new magazine was going to go to print, Noah went home for some much needed rest. He intended on being at the office early tomorrow morning to examine the first printed copies.
It was a big risk. They could lose everything. But his staff was now behind him, and George was as excited as he was.
When his cell rang at five in the morning, Noah immediately assumed that there was some kind of a problem. He grabbed his phone and breathed into it, “All right George, give it to me. What’s wrong?”
“Hi Noah,” a voice said into the phone. “It’s not George.”
“Ace?” He sat up in bed. His heart sang. “Ace.” He suddenly couldn’t get enough of saying his name. “Ace? Is it you?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “It’s me. Too early?”
Noah smiled. “Paying me back for when I woke you that time?”
“You bet. And it’s the time zone. We’re in Europe.”
“Yes, I know.” He’d been keeping track of where the band was. “How was the show?”
“Great. Listen, Noah. I want to thank you for not publishing those photos of Brian a while back. I saw the magazine and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t understand why you did what you did until I read your article.”
Noah closed his eyes. “I meant every word. Ace, I know you hate me but—”
“I never hated you, Noah. And I wouldn’t have gone public with what happened between us that night. I had no intention of doing that press conference. I was hoping you wouldn’t call my bluff.”
“Because you are embarrassed about…”
“No, I’m not embarrassed. I … well … it was private, between you and I … and very … special.”
Noah swallowed. “It was special for me too.” He cleared his throat. “The first edition of the new magazine comes out tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know. I read something about it, about how it’s an entirely new direction for you. I think it’s a great idea. And Brian is doing well now. He’s got a boyfriend. And he’s trying not to hide anymore.”
“I’m happy for him.”
“He’d like to meet you, Noah. He wants to thank you personally for giving him a break.”
“He doesn’t have to. It’s okay.”
“I think he may give you an interview for your magazine. He wants to talk about his journey, what it took for him to accept himself. He’s lost his family over this.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that. The interview would be great, but no pressure.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, Ace, for calling me. It was nice of you.”
“Noah, I didn’t call you to be nice. I miss you.”
“You … you do?” His heart started thudding in his chest.
“Hell yes. I’ve been beating myself up for thinking that I really cared about someone I thought had no integrity, and then you go and surprise me like this. Will you give me a second chance? This time it won’t be about anything except you and me.”
Noah’s hand was shaking. He blinked the tears back. “Sure. We can … we can talk about it … hell … Ace … no talk, okay? Just come back so … I can hold you.”
“I hear you, baby. Okay. I got to go. Good luck … I mean, break a leg with the new magazine. Love the name. We have another month here and then we’ll be back in the good old US of A. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Call me before that?”
“If you want me to.”
“I want. I want.”
He laughed. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow night after the show.”
* * * *
Both Noah and George knew sales would be way down for the new magazine for the first little while, and that there would be adjustments to be made. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to lay anyone off. It had been stressful waiting for results and for a first edition, it didn’t do too badly.
As soon as his day was over, he’d rush home and wait for the phone to ring. Ace called him religiously almost every night, no matter what the time, and sometimes they talked for hours.
After Ace hung up, Noah wouldn’t be able to sleep, and George would comment on the dark circles under his eyes the next day. But in spite of the circles, he was happier than he’d ever been in his life. He felt as if he was exactly where he was meant to be, producing something that he could be proud of. He hadn’t abandoned his mission. He’d just refined it. The fact that Ace was talking to him every night put him on cloud nine. Soon he’d be back in the city and they’d hook up. He had no idea where it was going but he was in for the ride.
Even George’s occasional lecture about not getting too hung up on a rock star didn’t faze him. “Sure, Taylor has forgiven you for all that stuff,” George told him one afternoon, “but Noah, rockers are surrounded by temptation and they’re flighty. It’s going to be difficult to have a relationship with—”
“I know all that, George, but I have to give it a shot. I think I might be in love with him.”
George gave him a skeptical look but Noah didn’t care.
He might not have been sure about the success of this new magazine, but he was sure about Ace.
They talked about everything on the phone, their childhoods, their hopes and dreams, and Noah told Ace his darkest secrets. It felt suddenly as if they’d known each other for years, and Noah couldn’t wait for him to come back.
When the day finally came, Noah went to meet Ace at the airport. He had butterflies in his stomach, and when he spotted the five members of the band getting off the private jet, he rushed forward with excitement. Immediately the band was surrounded by the press and curious onlookers. It was like a swarm of bees coming out of nowhere.
Noah stood in the background and waited, trying to catch a glimpse of Ace.
Suddenly Ace emerged from the mob, and he, along with Brian, walked over to where he was standing. Noah wanted to throw himself into Ace’s arms but he held back, nodding at Brian.
Noah was surprised when Brian reached over and gave him a hug. “Hey, Noah. I need to thank you. It was really something what you did. And I want to return the favor. I want to give your new magazine, Masculine Pride, a little adrenaline. I’m ready for an exclusive.” He grinned with that rock star smile that made the girls swoon.
An interview with Brian Jacobs would really give the new magazine a shot in the arm. “Wow. That would be great. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“I’m ready,” he said, looking at Ace. “And someone else is ready too, so I’ll let you at it.” He grinned again and walked off to join the others who were now fending off the cameras.
“Hey,” Ace said, smiling at Noah. He swung an arm around him. “Let’s go. I need a ride. You mind?”
Noah slipped an arm around his slim waist and pulled him closer. “No, I don’t mind.”
They walked together out to the parking lot. Noah could hear the flashbulbs clicking away behind him.
“Don’t worry about that,” Ace said.
Noah found his car in the parking lot and they got in. When they were inside, Ace leaned his head closer and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time.”
Noah licked his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you taking me home?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded, starting the engine.
“Are we going to kiss on our first date?”
“Technically it’s our second.” Noah laughed, driving off the lot. “And we’re going to do a lot more than kiss.”
“Is that so?” Ace teased, stretching out his legs. “You got this all planned out … looks like this poor boy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Noah glanced at him and smirked. “Poor boy? There’s nothing poor about you.”
“I’ll just go with the flow.”
“Good.” Noah placed a hand on Ace’s thigh. “Don’t forget, it’s me who’s putting it on the line here, falling for a bad boy drummer.”
“Is that what I am?” He was smiling.
“That’s exactly what you are.”
“And me? What about my risk?”
Noah chuckled, stopping at a light. “I’m a magazine publisher who might be on the unemployment line next month. Nothing bad boy about me.”
“Oh I don’t know, your hand keeps moving up and up and…”
Noah slapped his thigh gently and pulled his hand back, sliding through the green light.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he teased.
Noah smiled and put his hand back on Ace’s thigh. He was enjoying the sexually charged banter. His mood bordered on elation, his pulse jumping, heart beating hard in his chest. He felt breathless as he drove up in front of his house.
Noah took a deep breath and turned off the engine. He suddenly felt nervous, like a groom on his wedding night. He glanced at Ace, and as if reading his mind, Ace touched his forehead to Noah’s. “It’s okay, babe,” he murmured, “I’m feeling the same wa
y. Let’s take it slow and easy.”
Noah nodded. This was insanity, he thought as he got out of the car. All he’d dreamed about since he and Ace started talking on the phone every night was fucking him, and now that he was here, he had a supreme case of the jitters.
Noah slipped the key in the lock and stood aside to let Ace enter first. Noah switched on a light, and they walked into the living room.
“This is nice,” Ace said.
“Dining room is just ahead, kitchen is at the back, and there are three … ah … bedrooms, and a bathroom on the other side.”
“It’s modest. Not what I expected.”
“I’m not a flashy guy.”
“Except for your car. What happened to that great car you used to drive? I saw it featured in a magazine once.” Ace sat down on the sofa.
“I sold it when I changed the magazine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. It was worth it. Want a drink?”
“Diet Coke,” he said.
“Oh I’m sorry, Ace. I forgot the rehab stuff. I only think about Brian when I think about that.”
“I was only in once, a long time ago. It wasn’t that bad. After I got out though, I said no more drugs or alcohol. In my business, that’s a slippery slope. You go ahead. Have what you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
“No, Diet Coke is fine for me. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Noah got two cans of Diet Coke from the refrigerator and took a minute to compose himself. When he came back out, Ace was sitting there with a DVD in his hand. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
Oh God, it was one of the many DVDs of their concerts he’d bought.
“Nowhere.” He put down the drinks and snatched the DVD out of his hand. He’s going to think I’m pathetic.
Ace chuckled. “That was our concert in Glasgow last year.”
Noah chucked it in the entertainment cabinet, embarrassed. “Well … ah, someone gave it to me for … ah, research.”
Ace smiled, patting the place beside him on the sofa. “Research, eh? You don’t like Savage Heat?”
“I love Savage Heat. I came to a few of your concerts.”
“Oh yeah?” He patted the seat again. “Come on, Noah, don’t tease me.”
