Failing Upward Ch. 07

It would be the immortal's version of coming out of the closet.

That had to be part of it.

Or was there some other power I was missing or didn't have yet?

Power. How ironic that I felt so powerless when they sought me for the power they wanted.

I slipped under the hot water, head and all. Eyes wide open, watching water bubbles float up and burst as the reached the surface. Above the bathroom loomed, distorted and foreign. Swirling opaque ribbons of water, bending my perception-- they paralleled my life. Dreamlike. I held my breath. Why? Why hold it? I can't die. My lungs burned as the last bit of oxygen left me. Stay under. After all I can't drown, I can't drown. Brutally forcing myself to stay below. Being buried alive under water was no different than under ground except you can see light. It crushed all the same. I imagined if I felt no pain, I'd feel no fear.

Was that good or bad?

I panicked, gulping water. I broke the surface, choking. Not sure if I'd won or lost.

I got up and dried off, then went upstairs. Our band had another gig tonight, and I had to be ready.

Sid wanted to come, but Glenda had advised against it. I was worried about Shackleton, too. But Sid was convinced he was safe in public. He'd spent a good hour convincing Glenda he should go. In the end, she'd given up.

Even though I felt my aunt and uncle wouldn't harm Sid, I wasn't sure how safe he was. And considering what I learned from Trent about others like myself, Sid was in a Hell of a lot of danger.

Then there was Shackleton and his test.

Having Trent and my uncle for body guards tonight made me more nervous than relaxed-- not knowing their true motives. Worse, they knew about dangers I couldn't even conceive. Now my stomach was in knots thinking of all that was said and unsaid at the dinner table.

Becoming famous, my music-- all unimportant. After last night, I should be jazzed to play again. Now-- I all could think of was Sid.

He came up to the bedroom while I was trying to finish getting dressed. Problem was I'd have to wear the same black leather pants, blue jeans or these ugly red leather ones that Lynn gave to me as a joke along with that last bag of hand-me-down clothes. John fucking insisted that I wear leather pants on stage. He thinks the women come just to see my ass in tight leather. Personally, I wondered about him sometimes.

I was struggling into the red leather when Sid walked through the door. They were two sizes too small. I sucked in what little gut I had to zip them up, flailing around prone on the bed and yanking the zipper.

"No underwear?" he observed.

"Fuck," I said under my breath, praying I didn't snag anything valuable.

Sid burst out laughing.

"Your face is as red as those pants."

"That's not funny," I said, struggling to stand and falling back down into the bed. "I don't care what John says, I'm not wearing these. I can't breath in them. Shit, I can't even stand; I'm being squished to death."

Sid threw a sock at me. "Oh look, you forgot to put this in the front."

"Like it'd fit! Very funny, why don't you do something useful? Throw me my jeans."

He threw me the black-leather ones instead.

"I think you need to wear these."

"I wore those last night."

"Since when do you care about fashion, Mister I-wear-the -same-tan-jacket-everywhere?"

Fuck. Now was that nice? I didn't even have my lucky tan jacket anymore-- it burned in the fire. Damn.

Sid was just like John-- having a leather fetish. Me, I was in to comfort. I missed my jacket. And those old hole riddle jeans on the bed looked perfect to me. But...

Well, off with the frickin' red-leather Iron Maiden torture-device and on with the black-leather kink. If they made Sid happy-- well, why not?

I slipped them on and began fastening the buttons.

"Your ass really does look good in those," Sid said, walking around me like he was a tiger, and I was his prey. "Problem is, I'm not the only one who's admiring it all night long, but I guess I can stand having all those eyes lusting after you as long as I get to touch what's inside when we get home."

"Shirt. I need a shirt." I stuttered.

"What about that black leather vest? It'd go nice."

"What is it with you and leather? Do you like whips, too?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you that." Sid pulled out the drawer and tossed me the black vest. "Mmm, don't see any whips. Maybe we should put that on a list along with the pioneer woman outfit?"

"You're crazy," I said, putting on the vest, and I started for the door. "Put them on the list."

Sid reached around and pinched my ass.

"John will be pleased," he said. "The sluttier the better as far as he's concerned."

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With much restraint, we got to Adam's Den. Trent drove, and I spent the whole time keeping Sid's hands out of my pants. We were late. I raced to the front to talk to the crew, and Sid met up next to me, listening intently as the sound man gave us instructions. John began telling us minor play order alterations. Shit, I loved the way Sid was rubbing my neck. I closed my eyes, not listening much at all, becoming engrossed in his hands, loosening me up.

"Thanks," I sighed.

Almost time. Picking up our instruments... Tuning...

I scanned the room. People lined up along the walls. No empty seats--a full house. I heard Smith's nervous slapping on his bass. Jimbo's chatter behind me made me concerned-- his drum sticks stiltedly tap, tap, tapping. He never gets hyped before a show. Seems everyone was rattled-- all worried we might not be able to top last night's performance. Les was tuning his guitar for the fourth time. At least I had Sid to distract me earlier, but now I was concerned. Worried about being worried. That's what I'm fucking best at.

I guess I needed to be Miss Cheerleader and pump them up the band like I usually do when they get down. Tonight I needed it as much as they did. Time to dust off our band's cheer.

I stood on the edge of the stage, turned facing the band and cleared my throat.

"Which way are we goin'?!" I yelled.

"Up!" shouted John and Smith together. Jimbo and Les' heads popped up. The stage crew stopped and turned.

I waved to Alan and Lynn sitting at the front table. Then in one clean leap, I jumped off the stage landing on top of their table. I turned to the band again and cupped my hands around my mouth, hollering.

"I said... Which way are we going?"

"Up! Up!" John and Smith yelled back.

"And which way are we failing?!" I screamed.

"Up-ward, up-ward, up-ward!" The band chanted. Smith jumped up and down and shouting. Les hopped on one foot than the other. The chant 'up-ward, up-ward, up-ward' spread into the crowd. As soon as it reached the front doors, I leapt off the table back onto the stage.

"I think we're ready to play now, boys!" I yelled, swiping my guitar from the floor-- back to the crowd. I waved as they cheered.

Yeah, I bet my ass did look good.

Alan and Lynn were waving, too. I smiled back; Sid was sitting with them now. I caught Sid's eye and winked at him. He blew me a kiss.

I noticed Trent and Lancaster seated farther back, which wasn't lost on Sid. He kept glaring back at them.

This was it. We were ready-- just a bunch of smilin' assholes, and John the biggest smilin' asshole of them all. I suspected John never went to bed last night--at least he didn't sleep. Smith danced around, giddy and giggly.

"Hello? Tommy Tutone?" John's gravelly voice broke into the mic. "Is Jenny home?"

Les began singing.

Jenny, Jenny, who can I turn to?

You give me something I can hold on to.

I know you think I'm like the others before

Who saw your name and number on the wall.

Music-- the ultimate therapy. The rhythm, the vocal harmony. It pleases my soul. I needed this.

Tonight was different than the night before. We were different; I was different. While last night was exhilarating, tonight was just plain fun. Les had the crowd singing 867- 5309 with him in the very first song. The crowd loved us, and we loved them. Nothing we played fell flat. The chemicals were mixed, and our science project was about to explode.

The first set zoomed by. I spent the whole first break, having Sid try to feel me up under the table.

"Sid's in much better spirits tonight," said Lynn. "Last night he looked like it was the end of the world. Tonight he's on top of it." Between groping my crotch and watching Dr. Lancaster, Sid didn't seem to hear a word she said.

"I hear it's going to snow," she said.

He massaged my cock. God, that felt good. Hard not to moan. I knew my face was getting hot. Table clothes hide a multitude of sins.

"What? You think I'm not listening?" Sid said, "--of course you're a Ho."

I pushed his hand off my lap. Not that I didn't like his attention, but I had to get up sometime.

Sid shifted his eyes to the good doctor's table again.

"He's not here to watch his nephew; he's here to watch us," he whispered to me.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," said Lynn, overhearing. "What's up? And who's that good looking guy with him?"

"That's Trent. The guy who took the bullet for me. He's our great protector now," Sid said sarcastically. "We're staying at the Lancaster's." I kicked Sid under the table. I wished he hadn't told them that. The less they knew; the safer they'd be.

"They're there for protection? I'd think you'd want to be as far away from them and their house as possible," she remarked. "Why don't you both stay at my place?"

"No," I said sharply. "We need to stay there."

I shifted positions, and I felt Sid's hand squeeze me again. Not fair. And I think Alan was figuring out what was up. Everyone would as soon as I stood. What the fuck did I need with a sock in my pants when I had Sid?

"Gotta go, the boys are calling," I said, blushing as I got up. Fuck, she was eye level with my crotch.

"Last night must have been a hell of a make up session," Lynn snickered.

The second set was better than the first. During the middle of the set, Trent and Lancaster invited themselves to sit with Sid, Lynn and Alan. I could tell Alan was getting pissed at Lynn for flirting with Trent. Go Lynn.

I took another swig of beer as we got ready to play our last song before break. This time I didn't want to fuck up. I played for Sid and sang "I want you to want me" and meant it.

The last verse-- that's when I saw Shackleton watching from the front doors. I stopped. Forgot the chords. Lost my voice. Les took up the break in my void like a professional. Sid followed my eyes to Shackleton at the back of the bar. Before the last bar of the song, Sid's table was watching him. Trent stood up.

With the last note, I put down my guitar and jumped down off the stage.

"Ignore him," said Trent. "He won't try anything here. Too many witnesses."

"That's comforting," I said, pulling up the chair next to Sid. I was sweating hard, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. As I watched the back, Shackleton met my eyes, nodded, turned around and walked out the door.

"He's gone. Just here to mess with our heads I'll bet," said Sid. I hoped he was right.

Those few beers I had went right through me. Shit, I didn't want to leave Sid. But I had to go bad. I stood up.

"Piss break," I announced. And Sid got up to follow me. "You don't need to hold my hand. He's gone." If Shackleton was still lurking around, I wanted Sid safe with Trent and Lancaster, not me.

Les walked up to the table to join us. I patted him on the back. I almost introduced him as my brother to Lynn and Alan, but I thought better of it. Not smart to let them know anything more. They knew too much already.

I went back the bathroom, getting more than the average high fives, handshakes and prods. Girls followed me. Most were regulars. All I needed was one more well meaning fan, patting me on the back or trying to kiss me. I'd piss my pants before I'd get to the bathroom soon.

I danced up and down in front of the urinal. So many buttons.

Sweet relief. Finally. As I finished, the hairs stood up on my neck. Shit, I only thought that happened in cheap novels, but I felt him. I should have known he'd find me alone in the bathroom-- the sick bastard.

I turned to face him. He looked different-- a faint white scar creased his face, running from the center of his cheek to his jaw-line. He looked thinner. Un-kept.

He stepped closer.

"Everyone knows I'm in here," I said bluntly, walking over to wash my hands.

"Of course they do. I just wanted to have a few words with you-- alone."

I stepped up to the sink and washed them quickly-- I felt sick to my stomach suddenly.

"I've already had more than enough words with you alone to last a life time--" I said, drying my hands, "now get out of my way."

I stepped past him, and he grabbed my arm. Not again. My guts twisted, recollecting how he pressed against me in the greenhouse.

"I tell you when to move," he said.

"Let go of me."

He released my arm as two strangers came into the bathroom. As I turned to leave, they blocked my way.

I stopped.

"I have one word to say--" he said, smiling as he uttered "Sid."

I waited. Fuck.

"I thought that'd get your attention," Shackleton said. "You want him safe? He's not safe where he is. Your trust is misplaced. They're lying to you. All of them. Come with me. Sid will be safe then. Surrender yourself to us and nothing will happen to him."

Someone was in the stall to the left of me, listening.

"If I do, how can you guarantee no one will hurt him?"

"I'll make an oath. Right here. I don't break oaths. I'm the one person who will always tell you the truth Wesley."

I was tempted to let him have me. Give up. Keep Sid safe. Then someone flushed the toilet in the stall, breaking my thought.

No. I still had a healthy sense of self-preservation. I loved Sid. I'd give my life for him, but I didn't think an oath meant shit to Shackleton.

"Ok, you said what you wanted. Anything else you want to add?" I asked.

"A time will come soon when you ask me to help you." He grabbed my arm, and I saw into him-- he knew it. I was right not to go with him.

I pulled away from him as the man started out of the stall, head down. The two men stepped aside, letting me rush out. Shackleton's voice echoed behind me as the doors swung shut--

"You'll beg me."

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I kept my mouth shut about Shackleton when I went back to the table, but Sid knew. I couldn't hide it from him. Trent leaned back in his seat, watching us both. I was washed out.

"Head ache," I said-- which wasn't a lie. I had a raging one by then.

Trent stared into me. Sid didn't buy it either. Then they both saw Shackleton strut out of the bathroom and wave at me. Trent scrambled up. We watched as he followed Shackleton out the back door.

Sid's hand closed tight over mine under table.

"What happened?" he whispered.

"The usual harassment-- said I'll beg him for help. But that was it," I lied. Lancaster was still looking after Trent.

I had no time to think about it all. John hopped up to the stage-- it was time to begin our last set. I pushed my chair back and staggered up.

"You sure you're ok to play?" Sid asked.

"I've played in a lot worse shape then this."

"That's for sure," said Lynn. "I could tell some stories."

Thank God for Lynn. I squeezed Sid's hand and stood up.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Wes stuck his head under the table and threw up into my purse?" she asked.

"Oh, God! Not that story," I whined.

"That's what eleven shots of Tequila will do to a virgin drinker," she laughed. "That was the night he told us about this dream he had where he was wearing a red tutu and tights. He reenacted the song and dance in he had in the dream. Wes, you looked so cute singing 'I Feel Pretty' on top of the table right over there." Lynn pointed, leaning into Sid.

"Fuck, don't remind me," I said. God, how many times did she have to tell that story?

"The best part though was that final drunken pirouette. Wes fell into the arms of that bouncer over there."

"He doesn't look like your type," said Alan, nudging me.

Now that Lynn completely humiliated me in front of everyone, I thought I'd better get back on stage. John was tuning up.

Despite the way I felt when I picked up my guitar, I played well. The first few songs I went through the motions, but then I got caught up in the addiction-- the applause, heat of the lights, vibration of the amps.

From the front table, they sat-- my friends, an uncle I barely knew and my lover. Music coursed through my veins and came out in chords of lust, love and pain. Sid coyly smiled at me over the rim of his glass-- probably imagining me in a red tutu and tights. Or maybe mentally removing my black leather.

Falling into his smile, I thought for a brief instant, everything was going to be all right.

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The door shut to the bedroom. Sid backed me against frame, pressing his thumbs hard into my hipbones. His mouth rushed for mine, his tongue lolling on my teeth and rolling playfully inside my mouth. My leather jeans gripped my cock like a hand, as his dick urgently rubbed against mine.

I forgot everything. I only felt his touch.

"I've been waiting for this all night," he whispered, thumbs sliding in a V, meeting at the base of my cock. "I want to taste you."

"God, yes," I moaned.

Slowly, he got down on his knees in front of me, both thumbs parallel, following my shaft up to the tip of my cock. I loved and hated that he enjoyed teasing me this way. He smiled as he pushed up the leather vest and licked my tummy. He took his time unfastening the top rivet of the leather jeans he loved. He winked at me, then looking down, he licked his lips as he undid the next rivet, exposing the head my cock. He grinned up at me again-- like a fucking Cheshire Cat, teasing me with his eyes and giving me one of his boyish crooked grins. Then meandering his tongue down my belly, he looped around the head of my dick-- tongue just brushing the tip.

Shit, my knees buckled.

He was pleased with my reaction. He took charge, holding me firmly against the door.

When he was sure my feet were steady again beneath me, his hands let go--

His fingers haltingly unfastened more rivets, taunting me with his lips as he did. I shook and moaned-- my hands trembling and desperately clutching his hair. His face became an irresistible torture for me-- I watched the pearls of sweat running down his brow and the sucking and blowing of his cheeks. He explored every sensitive part of me, building up my want until he knew I was near to collapsing again. His tongue tickled the super-sensitive underside of my cock. He nipped and licked the head of my dick.

His warm agile fingers pressed in degrees of need, releasing the last button, freeing me.

As I touched him I saw inside him, feeling his thoughts-- his heat. It was all too much. God, I loved him.

He hesitated.

"Look at me," he said.

I bit my lip-- his breath so hot and close against me.

"Sing 'I Feel Pretty' to me," he joked.

I choked back a laugh as his teeth gently raked against my cock, lips devouring me. I felt the pop of his jaws as his mouth opened and slid me in deeper yet. I pressed my back to the door, praying I could remain upright as my legs trembled. I loved how the contours of his mouth and tongue moved against the length of me. My head spun with every swirling tongue motion, and heart jumped as my cock dipped over every ridge in his mouth. I loved how Sid's brows twitched and eyes tightened. My mind wrapped around how much I desired and loved him. I closed my eyes. God, he was beautiful and felt beautiful. I restrained myself best I could, letting him do all the work, fucking me hard with his mouth. Wet and warm. Sliding in and out, faster and faster.