by Shawn Bailey
Jonas sat, and Brenton stood next to him and began to play. Jonas joined him for the intro to the song. The younger man’s fingers flew across the keys. Brenton sang the first verse and the refrain. Jonas sang the second verse. They sang the refrain together. Tory gawked in disbelief. Brenton liked the way their voices blended for the chorus. The song ended.
Tory didn’t say anything at first. Finally, he said, “I love it.”
Brenton exhaled. He’d been holding his breath until Tory spoke.
“Though I have to say you two surprised the hell out of me. Never in a million years did I see you two collaborating.”
“It just kind of happened,” Brenton said. “Jonas is a gifted musician and songwriter.”
“You don’t have to sell him to me,” Tory said. “I know what he’s capable of doing. He’s going to bring me home a Grammy in a couple of months. What have you guys done for me lately?”
Brenton felt like going over and strangling his boss, but that wouldn’t get the song recorded. “We’re going to bring you one with our next CD.”
The rest of his bandmates agreed.
“All we need is a chance to do something new,” Randall said.
“Are you guys really sure you want to crossover?” Tory asked.
All four members of Vizio nodded.
“Okay. There’s room for more than one Grammy in my trophy case.” He turned to Frankie and Gerard. “What do you fellows think?”
“I like the idea,” Gerard said.
“You should since the three of you are doing the same thing.” Tory looked at Frankie. “What about you?”
“I think you should give them a chance, too.”
“What about you, Jonas?” Tory asked. “Do you think you can tolerate performing that song with Brenton at the concert?”
Jonas nodded. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad you answered that way because I’ve never seen you smile so brightly in a long time as you did singing that song. I don’t know what’s going on, but keep up the good work.” He stood. “Now let’s go and let these guys finish working with Tommy.”
Tory walked up the aisle and headed for the door. Gerard and Frankie hurried to catch up with him. Brenton handed Jonas his guitar. They slapped hands, and Jonas ran to be with his group.
Tommy stood up and walked back over to the piano and sat down. “Looks like it’s back to the drawing board for me.”
“Hell no,” Preston said. “We still want to hear the rest of your songs.”
“Why?” Tommy asked.
“Because no one can write rock and roll like you,” Randall said. “And we don’t want anyone but you writing for our future albums.”
“I have written some soulful ballads in my lifetime that you guys might like,” Tommy said. “I could use a Grammy, too.”
He tickled the ivories and then played the fourth song for them.
Brenton and the others sat through four more songs and then Tommy stopped playing.
“That was just eight songs,” Brenton said. “Don’t we normally get ten for an album?”
“I’ve been scratching my head over the other two,” Tommy admitted. “But now it looks like the Lord wants you to perform the new song you just sang with Jonas Kerry. So we just have to find just one more.”
Preston and Randall cheered.
Brenton hadn’t heard a word out of Carson since his sarcastic remark to Jonas. He had caught him checking out Frankie Kerry though. If Carson interfered in his relationship with Jonas or fucked around with Frankie, he was going kick his ass.
* * * *
Jonas entered Tory’s office after rehearsal. His boss had sent a message that he wanted to see him.
“Sit down,” Tory said.
Jonas sat in a seat facing Tory’s big desk.
“Okay, spill it.”
“What?” Jonas asked. “You called me, remember?”
“Yes, well I’ve wanted to have this talk with you for some time now, since your breakup with Sean and your hospital stay. By the way, how are you feeling?”
Jonas wasn’t stupid. If Tory was being nice to him, it meant he was either about to get fussed at or volunteered to do something. Jonas cleared his throat. “Fine. My voice still isn’t back one hundred percent yet.”
“It sounds beautiful to me,” Tory said. “It’s not quite as froggy.”
Jonas rolled his eyes at the joke.
“In fact, I rather like your new sound,” Tory said. “You were capable of hitting some very high notes in that song you performed with Brenton.” He paused. “So, you’re doing okay, I mean emotionally?”
“Yes,” Jonas answered.
“So you’re over Sean? No suicidal thoughts?”
“Yes, and no,” Jonas answered, wondering where Tory was heading with these questions. It wasn’t like him to beat around the bush. “He cheated on me, and I ended the relationship. No biggie.”
“Are you sure? Because I wouldn’t want you to go and do something foolish like hop into a relationship with some gorgeous, blond rocker on the rebound.”
I knew it. Tory had found out about him and Brenton. Is there anything this man doesn’t know?
Tory chuckled from his seat behind his big desk as if reading his mind. “Didn’t you think I would find out about you and Brenton?”
“What about me and Brenton?”
“You’re dating.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because it’s true,” Tory answered. “What I find funny is that no one else noticed the attraction between you two. I put it together at the after party. One minute the two of you were seated at the bar talking. Then the two of you disappeared. Then I saw the two of you together at a restaurant in Metairie. I was there having dinner with my wife. Now the two of you have written a song together.”
Jonas moved around nervously in his chair. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Jonas, it’s me, Tory. Neither you nor that gorgeous, younger brother of yours is capable of lying. You’ve been nervously tapping your foot since I brought up the subject.”
Jonas looked down. Sure enough, he was. He stopped. “Habit.”
Tory chuckled sarcastically. “Give it up, Jonas. You and Brenton are dating.”
Jonas knew denying it any longer was futile. “It just happened. I’ve admired the man’s music for years, and we sort of hit it off.”
Tory grew serious again. “Well, you do know that Brenton is considerably older than you, and he’s had his share of relationships—with guys, I mean. He was even romantically involved with one of his bandmates. The scandal rocked the music world, here and in Great Britain, especially when they broke up and the media found out about them.”
“Yes, I know all of that. Nothing is going to happen like that with us,” Jonas said. “This time it will be different.”
“How?” Tory asked.
“I don’t know,” Jonas admitted. “Brenton and I are just in the getting-to-know-you stage. No one found out about me and Sean. I can be discreet. We won’t be seen together in public.”
“You’ve already been seen together, remember? At the restaurant.”
“You mean two friends and fellow guitarists can’t have dinner together?” Jonas asked.
“Yes, they can,” Tory said. “Just as long as you’re not kissing or holding hands or looking adoringly into each other eyes.”
Jonas turned up his nose and shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not stupid, Tory, regardless of what you and everyone else might think. I know I can’t expose my relationship because my fans might not accept it. Brenton and I were just having dinner and discussing the collaboration.”
“Yeah, maybe you can use that excuse since you two will be on many stages performing the song and the CD I’m planning to cut by teaming the two of you up.”
Jonas sighed. Leave it to Tory to find a way to turn a profit out of this.
“I’m surprised you’re not putting up a bigger fuss,” Tory said.
>
“The old Jonas might have,” Jonas said. “But I don’t have a problem singing with him on a CD and doing a couple of live performances with him, but I have no intentions of joining Vizio.”
“I would never suggest that,” Tory said. “Those guys are wild.” He paused again. “I might have to rethink the Asian tour.”
“Why?” Jonas asked. “Are you going to cancel the tour because of this?”
“Hell no,” Tory answered. “I’m not that crazy. I think I might have to add Vizio to the tour because it’s going to be next to impossible to keep you two guys apart.”
“Really? Those guys just came off a two-year tour. It’s bad enough they have to go back to Europe.”
“Must I remind you that they are the ones who want to change their image and their style of singing? That won’t happen with them sitting here in New Orleans. This is still a jazz town.”
“I understand,” Jonas said.
“I’m glad you do. I’m going to give them a rest and not book them for anything after Vegas, but they’re going to Europe and Asia with you guys. They can help look after you.”
Jonas chuckled. “That should be interesting. I bet we’re the ones who will have to look after them. I’ve kept up with their antics over the years. You’ve never had to bail any of us out of jail or pay for damaged hotel rooms.”
“Not yet, at least,” Tory said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Brenton will agree to the Asian tour if you ask him nicely.”
Jonas frowned. “Don’t use me to do your dirty work, Tory.”
“Ah, did I hurt your feelings, princess? You’re better at manipulating guys than I am. You had Sean wrapped so tightly around your finger that the man would have done anything for you.”
“Yeah, well you see how that turned out. Brenton isn’t Sean, and I’m sure a pair of big, brown eyes doesn’t have any effect on him.”
“Well, I for one am glad that Sean is gone. He hated being on the road and not being about to show affection for you in public.”
Sean hated touring? He never mentioned it.
“So can I depend on you to help me to convince Brenton and Vizio to join you for the Asian tour?”
“What’s in it for me?” Jonas asked.
“You, my friend, stand to gain the most out of this venture, including writing credits for any song you write for Vizio or sing with them. You get to spend some quality time with the blond rocker of your dreams while touring two of the most exotic countries in the world.”
“You’re not going to stop us from seeing each other?” Jonas asked.
“No,” Tory said. “I think the two of you might be good for each other. You got him writing and interested in performing again. But the rules still apply.”
“Yeah, I know. No public showing of affection and no scandals. Deal,” Jonas said.
“I figured you would agree. Now tell me who else knows about you guys?”
Jonas rattled off some names. “Adam, Frankie, Gerard, Giovanni, and Kalen.”
“Kalen?” Tory asked.
“Yeah, but he hasn’t met Brenton yet. They’ve just spoken over the phone.”
“Anyone else?”
“Probably Luke and Noel Charles.”
“Birds of a feather do flock together,” Tory said.
“And maybe Carson Hughes.”
“Shit,” Tory said.
“Yeah, I know he’s Brenton’s ex.”
“He might be a problem,” Tory said. “Don’t do anything around him so he won’t try to out you to the world.”
“Do you really think he would try something like that?”
“Yes,” Tory answered. “He outed Brenton. The only reason I’m telling you this is because it is common knowledge now that Brenton is gay. So this means, if you’re seen in public too much with him outside of performing, the fans are going to assume that you are, too.”
“Same old crap, just different lovers,” Jonas said. “Do you think that Carson could still be in love with Brenton?”
“Probably,” Tory said. “So watch your back. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be careful,” Jonas promised. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The concern and for not having a fit about Brenton and me.”
“I predict that the two of you will make beautiful music together on stage and in the bedroom. Just don’t invite the public in to witness the second one. You guys keep me on my toes. You may go.”
Jonas stood up and hurried out of Tory’s office before his boss changed his mind. Frankie and Gerard were waiting for him in the lobby.
“What did he want?” Frankie asked.
Jonas dragged his two friends out of the building and headed for the parking lot. “He wants me to collaborate with Brenton on a new CD. And I can date him and do pervy stuff with him.”
Gerard giggled as he climbed into the van. “You already have.”
Jonas climbed into the front seat smiling. Finally something positive happening in his life. He got a text message from Brenton on his way home: “Heard the good news from Tory. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“I’m hungry,” Frankie said. “Let’s go home, and I’ll make us all a big lunch.”
“Don’t make dinner for me,” Jonas said as he started up the van. “I might have other plans.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Brenton, this is our youngest brother, Kalen.”
Brenton leaned down and shook the five-year-old’s hand. “Hello, Kalen. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” the gorgeous blond said.
Wow, Brenton thought. Kalen was the spitting image of Jonas, right down to his smile. Brenton straightened up. The last place he expected to be was at a photo shoot for a kid, but Jonas was there to watch over his brother, who had an exclusive contract with Kidds Clothing.
“Let’s get you in makeup,” a young woman said to Kalen.
“Okay,” Kalen said. “I’ll see you later, B-Dog.”
Brenton smiled, watching Kalen walk away. He got a fatherly tug in his chest. In some other reality he could possibly have a child like Kalen. The thought did not displease him, even though he’d given up all thoughts of ever being a parent until now. “He’s adorable.”
“Yes, he is,” Jonas agreed. “He’s also spoiled rotten by everyone who meets him.” He looked away. “Brian is calling us over.”
The African American photographer was on the other side of the room messing with a radio. The song playing was in a different language, but the tune was catchy. Brenton got the image of The Kerrys performing it. Brian looked up when they approach.
“Hey, Jonas. Why do you have this guy with you?”
Brenton and Brian shook hands.
“You two know each other?” Jonas asked.
“Yes,” Brian answered. “I do all of Vizio headshots, even though it’s been about two years since the last time they visited.”
“We’re back in town for good,” Brenton said. “Well, sort of.”
“Yeah, Tory mentioned the tour to me. He’s already set up a photo shoot for you guys for the upcoming concert in Vegas.”
“What is that song you’re listening to?”
“Ah, that’s ‘Wedding Dress’ by a South Korean singer named Taeyang. He’s a member of a supergroup called The Big Bang.”
“I’ve heard of them,” Brenton said. “I envisioned The Kerrys performing that song on stage as soon as I heard it.”
Brian smiled. “I can see them, too.”
“Spooky,” Jonas said. “That’s one of Gerard’s favorite songs.”
“So why are you here?” Brian asked him.
“I’ve come to see Kalen work,” Brenton said. “Jonas thought I might get a kick out of it.”
“I had no idea you guys were friends,” Brian said.
“We’re both guitarists, and we both work with Tory,” Brenton reminded him. “Birds of a feather flock together.”
“You two planning to collaborate on a song?” Brian asked.
Brenton nodded. “Yes. We’re meeting with the rest of Vizio later for a jam session.”
Kalen and some of the other kids came into the studio.
Brian adjusted the backdrop.
“We’ll get out of your way so you can work,” Jonas said.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Brian said.
Jonas led Brenton over to some director’s chairs on the other side of the room.
“These kids look like mini adults,” Brenton said.
Kalen was tall for five, but he looked about the same height as the other boys standing near him. A girl said something to Kalen, and the child giggled.
“That’s so cute. He’s a real ladies’ man already.”
“It’s all an act,” Jonas said. “To him girls are a nuisance.”
Brenton chuckled. “That’s funny. He has his mind made up already.”
Jonas nodded.
Some other adults joined them to watch the kids, probably some of their parents. Kalen, Brenton discovered, was not only professional, but also very photogenic.
“I see a little of Frankie in him, but the kid is all you.”
“Yeah, but he’s Frankie’s monster. They have the same dry sense of humor and attitude. I just hope Kalen doesn’t get into trouble like Frankie did.”
Jonas left him for a moment to help Kalen change into another outfit. Brenton went over to talk with Brian. “Are all the other models as serious as Kalen?”
“No,” Brian answered. “Kalen Kerry is a natural and is in high demand. Most kids his age would rather be out playing ball or video games. Kalen is very serious about his work, and he knows what he wants to be when he grows up.”
“Which is?”
“A professional model and a hotel mogul.” Brian laughed. “The kid is just like his Uncle Adam.”
“What do you mean?” Brenton asked.
“He’s all work and very little play.”
“Adam Montgomery?”
Brian nodded. “I’m surprised he’s not here. He and Kalen are just like father and son, and Adam is teaching him all about the hotel–motel industry.”
“Wow,” Brenton said aloud. “A five-year-old with an agenda. He’s more together than I was at that age.”
