Show Business

"Hey. Hey. Listen. It's just the stress talking. I'll tell you what, take my card."

Jack Stevens, written in gold embossed in a matte black card. Gold's Talent Agency. Office 403, Building 6, Woodsbury Lane, Kurt read as he took the card from the man's hand.

"Come to my office tomorrow. I have a good gig for you. It's something different. Maybe you'll enjoy it more. And it pays a lot more money."

"I'm not coming to your office. I don't want your gigs. And I don't want your money. I'm good. Thanks" And saying this, Kurt exited the conversation and headed towards the gym's exit.

"Alright. Suit yourself." said Jack, almost talking to himself.

It was 10:21 PM. With almost four and half hours left on his shift, Kurt buzzed busily through the restaurant. It was surprisingly crowded for a Monday evening. Good for tips. But bad if one wasn't in the mood to be exerting oneself. And Kurt wasn't in the mood. He rarely let things rattle him but today's conversation with that old fart in the gym had rattled him to the core.

'How the hell does he know my real name?' thought Kurt as he bumbled into the Kitchen with the next list of orders. He would have to go back out after he handed the order to the chef. He had to clean table 6. In Barbara's restaurant, he was the waiter, and the bus boy, and he had to clean up after closing. They were understaffed, but that was because Barbara was a cheap cunt. It had been 3 months since all the restrictions imposed during the pandemic had been lifted. Business was back to normal, but Barbara still refused to hire more staff.

"Clean up table 6, then we got new people on 4.," she ordered, barely looking at Kurt.

'Yeah. Cause I can't see that for myself, YOU...DUMB.....BITCH!' Kurt retorted from the safety of his own head.

"Going," he muttered and went straight for table 6. Making it customer-ready in less than a minute, he headed to the kitchen, deposited the dishes in the sink and dashed to table 4. A sweet looking family of four, all blonde, from Dad to the baby, gave their order. They had already decided what they wanted and their requests couldn't have been clearer. That's what Kurt liked to see in people. A sense of clarity.

He turned towards the kitchen to hand over the new order, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

"Kurt."

Kurt knew that voice. But that only meant he turned even more slowly to face it.

"Dad?"

"My boy." Kurt's father lunged and hugged him. Kurt was in shock. It had been six months since he had seen his father. Six months since he had seen any of his family. Six months since he had run away from home without telling anyone where he was going.

"We miss you, Kurt. We all do."

"Dad.....I'm working," was all Kurt could mutter, pushing his father away from him.

Tears were welling in his father's eyes. A deep sense of shame and regret filled Kurt and he could feel his own tears wanting to pour forth.

"Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you, son. Your mother was so scared. Kathy was so scared. I'm so relieved now. I can't wait to tell them the news." Kurt's father was almost choking trying to get the words out, "Why did you leave, son? Why didn't you tell us where you were going? It doesn't matter now. Whatever it was, we'll fix it. We'll be a family again."

Kurt took a step back. "I'm....not....going....back, Dad. What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I had to hire a P.I. It was the only way to track you down. We thought you had been kidnapped or murdered. It took the investigator all these months to find you. We were so relieved."

A ringing rang in Kurt's ears as if he'd been slammed with a steel beam. A P.I.? A private investigator had found him. What did this private investigator know about him? What had this private investigator told his father?

"Dad. I need to get back to work." Kurt's voice was almost trembling.

"Ok, Son. I understand. I'm in town for a few more days. I have my cell. Please call me."

"Sure, Dad," Kurt lied. He ushered his father out of the restaurant's doors. It was all too much for him. He staggered back inside and went into the kitchen. All he could do was rest his body against the counter and look down at the floor. His ears were still ringing. His heart was beating heavy.

"What the fuck are you doing, kid? Where are the orders? Why aren't the tables cleaned?" Barbara would have screamed had she not known how to keep her reputation in front of her frustration.

This was all Kurt could take.

"FUCK....YOU....YOU STUPID CUNT! I QUIT!!!" Kurt threw his apron to the floor and walked out the kitchen and out through the door, not turning his back for a second, but sure that there was a stunned look on Barbara's face. In this act of rebellion, Kurt felt like a King. Sticking it to Barbara would heal all the damage of the last two days. Wouldn't it?

It was 12 noon the next day. Kurt felt embarrassed. The high of his resignation had given away to the somber truth. He needed money. He needed work. He needed Jack.

And so he found himself in Jack's office.

A bored, bespectacled secretary with orange-brown hair tied in a bun, sat at her desk chewing a pencil. She had told Kurt to wait when he had arrived 15 minutes ago but Kurt had seen no real indication that she had informed Jack that he was here.

Kurt began contemplating whether he should rock the boat by questioning this secretary about her lack of occupational sincerity. But just as he decided to open his mouth, the secretary, as though through some psychic intuition, cut him off and muttered "Jack will see you now."

Kurt got off the waiting couch and moved towards the wooden door with a frosted glass panel to his right. Past the door was a strange setup. This door led to an empty room and at the other end of the room was the actual door to Jack's office. As Kurt made his way to the door, he heard giggling from behind the door, soft in volume as the door insulated the sound, but just audible enough for him to hear.

"Why don't you show me, Jack."

Kurt was confused. Was he supposed to enter when someone else was in there? And it didn't seem like the secretary had actually told Jack that he was here. Had she sent him in before Jack's other appointment was done?

Suddenly, Kurt heard the owner of the giggles begin to moan." Oh yeah Jack, just like that."

'Oh God damn it! What is going on here?' Kurt thought to himself. Now he was sure that he shouldn't be entering Jack's office at all. But he couldn't go back into the reception; that creepy, psychic secretary was there.

The moans stopped.

"Come in, Kurt." Jack called form inside the office.

'What the fuck?! Is everyone in this office psychic?' thought Kurt.

He placed his hand on the door's handle, and pushed the door open to reveal Jacks, large, plushily decorated office. He stepped on to the emerald green carpet as a spicy perfume wafted heavily in the air. Jack's arch shaped mahogany table was at the end opposite the door, with Jack in his big, leather chair behind it; and a pale-skinned, thin-framed, naked boy on top of it.

The boy was looking back over his shoulder at Kurt. And Kurt felt strangely uncomfortable. This guy looked identical to him. The same eyes and cheek bones. The small, sharp nose and the same emo swoop hairstyle.

"Mmmmm. You were right, Jack, we do look alike," he said in a soft, feminine voice.

"Yes. Well. You have a look that's really trending right now, baby." Jack said to the other boy. " You see how easy it is to replace you, Kurt. I just had to put out feelers for a teen with your hair, eyes and figure. And presto, Michael showed up for his first audition."

"Is he going to join us, Jack?" a sly smile creeping over Michael's face.

"No, baby, Kurt here is straight. He only fucks boys for money, isn't that right, Kurt?"

Kurt just stared. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. And he definitely didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Too bad. But you'll finish my audition, right?"

"Don't worry, baby, I have every intention to." Jack said with a grin, placing his hand on Michael's exposed thigh. "But I have an idea now," he said, looking straight at Kurt, "You see, Kurt here turned down an offer to work for me yesterday. And yet, he finds himself in my office today. I needed one of you. Now, I have two. So...I'm thinking....I'm going to market you both as twins!"

"I love it!" said Michael gleefully, clapping his hands together.

Kurt felt sick.

"Yes. It is a good idea, isn't it," said Jack, matching Michael's energy, and ignoring Kurt's. "Why don't you show me how you boys look together."

Michael jumped off the table and pranced over to Kurt.

'Jesus' thought Kurt, they were even the same height.

Michael straddled Kurt's arm and pushed his shoulder against Kurt's, striking a pose, looking for Jacks approval. Jack just slid his hand into his pants.

"Kiss," went Jack as he began to stroke himself.

"NO!" protested Kurt.

Jack's expression suddenly changed from calm and relaxed to an aggressive tint, as if he were a starving dog and Kurt was trying to steal his bone.

"What? You'll suck dick for the camera, but you won't kiss when I tell you to? That's not how this works. Soon you'll be taking shits on the time table that I set for you!"

"You better cooperate." whispered Michael into Kurt's ear. "Or this could end badly for both of us."

Kurt looked into Michael's eyes, as if to signal 'Go ahead'

Michael leant in, latching his soft lips onto Kurt's for a passionate kiss. Kurt's legs wanted to back away. His cock gave a slight tingle as he felt Michael's naked penis pressed against his.

"Yes. That's beautiful." Kurt could hear Jack exclaim in a jovial tone as Michael continued to kiss him.

Michael let go and his and Kurt's eyes locked for a brief second. Kurt turned his face away; towards the door.

"OK. Here's the plan. We do only-boys live stage shows every Friday night at my club. I'm putting you two up with a real veteran, his name's PumpMonkey."

'Where the fuck did these people get these weird names?' thought Kurt.

That means you have 3 days to prepare. I want you boys to meet PumpMonkey ASAP to get an idea of the timings, what you're going to do, what you're going to wear, and all that other stuff."

Kurt just looked right at Jack. He didn't know what to say. The thought of a live stage show terrified him. In front of an audience? The online videos were fine. There was a low probability that anyone he knew would find them. But this was in his own town. He would be exposing his secret to the perverts who walked the same streets he did.

"It'll be $1500 dollars each. Half an hour of actual stage time. No biggie." said Jack, reading Kurt's vacant expression.

'Jack always talks money.' thought Kurt. And that amount of money sounded too good to think about consequences. Plus, he had no other source of income at the moment. He had no choice to but to agree. And somehow, he was sure that Jack wasn't waiting for him his agreement.

"Good." said Jack with a big smile. "I'll see you Friday night then. You can leave us now, Kurt...unless you want to stay and watch? You don't mind, do you, Michael?" he asked, extending his arms out, beckoning Michael to come over to him with his hands.

"Ooooh. I don't mind at all." said Michael rushing over to Jack. Jack quickly unzipped his pants to pull his massive, erect penis out just as Michael ended up on his lap.

Kurt saw Jack fumbling to guide his cock into Michael and took it as his queue to leave the office. He moved in no slow way to exit the room, but he couldn't reach the door fast enough; the sound of fucking had already entered his ears before he could get to the other side of the door.

Kurt was contacted by Jack's secretary the next day. She had scheduled an appointment for him and Michael with PumpMonkey at his studio. Kurt followed the address. He knew the building, a nicer apartment in the more ghetto side of town. The clouds were grey that day as he pulled his jacket in closer to feel warm.

PumpMunkey had the loft of the building all to himself. It was dark but clean. A freaky kind of spotless. Posters of metal bands from an era lost to the earth's revolutions strewed the walls. There was a motorcycle in the corner, the emblem of Harley Davidson on the fuel tank. Kurt didn't know much about bikes, so he didn't know what model or year it was. But looking at PumpMonkey, he found the image of a man who enjoyed leather jackets not hard to envision.

6 foot something with orange-brown hair and a muscular body, PumpMonkey towered above Kurt and Michael. Kurt couldn't tell whether he was actually gay or not as PumpMonkey's aura exuded raw masculine energy. He quickly ran through the details of the show with the two newbies.

Be at the club by 7:00 PM sharp. They had to purchase their costumes form a store he recommended. They would get their expenses reimbursed.

"You're gonna dress as school girls. Think Britney Spears in that song."

On hearing this Kurt went numb; and Michael got excited, "Yaay... makeup."

The word makeup actually brought some relief to Kurt. It would be difficult for people to recognize him with makeup, right?

They would have to put on a bit of a show to tease the audience, just for a few minutes or so. PumpMonkey took them through some basic moves. Kurt was finding it hard to follow. Michael was a natural.

The most important thing, PumpMonkey told them, was that once the sex started, he was in charge. They had to follow his queues. This wasn't a democracy. It was a show that he had done many times and they had never done before. He would guide them through everything, but he wouldn't be using words most of the time. Sometimes he would gesture, sometimes he would lead them with his hands, and sometimes they would just have to understand what he implied by the glances that he gave them.

PumpMonkey showed them how his signals would look and gave them an idea of how they would orient themselves on stage at different points in the show.

In due time, their training was done.

"Come back tomorrow. We're going to go through everything one more time. I don't want either of you fucking this up."

"Don't worry," said Kurt, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I've seen some stupid shit go down on stage in my years," said PumpMonkey in a sober tone. "But if it has to happen, just don't do it on Jack's stage."

"What's he gonna do? Fire us?"

"People who get on Jack's bad side have a mysterious way of disappearing. You'd like to think that they left town. But it's a bit to coincidental. I'd try to keep my nose clean if I were you boys. Hell, that's what I do."

Kurt's throat went a dry. What had he gotten himself into? He didn't like Jack's vibe from the start. And he couldn't get out now. That would get him on Jack's bad side faster than if he set that club on fire.

"Man, I'm beat," said Michael as they came down the elevator from PumpMonkey's loft, "Let's grab a coffee."

"Dude, I just wanna go home." Kurt felt miserable after all the turns his life had taken in the last 4 days

"Nah. Listen. There's a pretty great café I know just around the corner. The coffee's strong enough to wipe that funk right off of you."

Kurt found it strange that Michael could read him so well. Kurt hesitated. The offer of feeling better than he did was tempting. He had never actually interacted with any of his co-stars. More terrifying than spending quality time with a guy he was soon to have sex with, was that he wasn't actually sure if Michael was hitting on him or not.

"Alright," Kurt resigned, "Let's do it."

"Yaay," went Michael, gleefully.

The sauntered down the street towards Michael's café. They took an outdoor table and ordered their coffee as they took their seats. The waitress soon had their order at the table.

"I've seen your videos, you know."

Awkward, thought Kurt. "Hmm mmm. What did you think?" He asked even though he wasn't really sure he wanted to know

"It honestly was....some of the hottest amateur stuff I've ever seen. You're going to be a star. I still can't believe you're not really gay."

"Yeah well...I just like giving any job I take my all. That's the way I've always been. I worked hard in school. I worked hard at my restaurant job."

"Then how did you end up doing this? You could have done anything with that attitude."

"I've been starting to realize that perfectionism is a disease. It's not that I need to do everything perfectly more than the fact that I just can't stand criticism anymore. Not even the tiniest bit. That's why I left my folks and came out here. Everything I did was always.....under attack." Kurt went silent for a moment. " What about you? What made you want to get into this mess?"

"It's an easy choice for me," said Michael emphatically. "I'm going to get paid to have all the sex I want. Just thinking about all the cock I'm going to get is making me kind of hard."

"You're glamourizing this because you still haven't gotten into it. I don't know. Maybe, I'd feel different if I was shooting straight porn. Well, I hope you have as much fun as you think you're going to have." said Kurt, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Let's see. Like...I'm sure it's not all sunshines and daisies. But I'll keep my head above water. You know, I ran away from home as well."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Same old story. Abusive step dad. Mom could barely take care of herself, forget about me. And they weren't really the open minded type....you know...about the whole gay thing," he said staring pensively into his coffee.

"Oh right. Can't imagine." But the thought sent Kurt into a spiral. He remembered that his father was still in town; somewhere. And somewhere, there was a private investigator snooping on him as well. This kid was shunned by his family for being gay. What would happen to him when his family found out that he was doing gay. Now, they were both staring into their coffees

"What time are you getting to PumpMonkey's tomorrow?" asked Kurt, after a long silent patch in their conversation.

"Do we really need to? Man, I already got all that shit down."

"Yeah well, I need a lot more practice. I think I'd feel a lot more comfortable if I wasn't left alone with that guy."

"All rightttt." Michael chuckled. "I wont abandon you. I'll meet you at his place around 2. And we can go shop for our costumes after that"

"Ya. That sounds good."

All the concerns that Kurt had for the next day were instantly abated by the offer of Michael's companionship. He felt comfortable around Michael. And that made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to feel close to any guy he would soon be performing sexual acts with. These feelings gave Kurt his queue to leave. He stood up, offered to pay the bill, slipped the waitress a few notes and went on his way.

Kurt reached PumpMonkey's at 2 PM sharp the next day. Michael was a bit late. They quickly reviewed the details of their show with PumpMonkey and got out of there. PumpMonkey gave them the directions to the sex toy store where they could buy their sexy costumes. It was a bit far from PumpMonkey's loft. They set off on the bus that head to the center of town.

"I'm not ready for tomorrow," said Kurt as the bus rumbled to a halt at their stop.

"Don't be silly, Kurt. You'll be great. We'll be great."

"You're only saying that because you're looking forward to it."

"That's true. I have been feeling a bit slutty lately."

"Ewww," said Kurt, a mock expression of disgust on his face.

"Haha." laughed Michael.

They soon reached the shop and entered to find a middle-aged woman at the counter.

"How can I help you boys."

"We're looking for some school girl costumes," quipped Michael.