First, I apologize for the length of the disclaimer. It won't happen again.
Disclaimer
The author of this work, such as he is, remains absolutely ambiguous with regard to any relationship whatsoever with any celebrity mentioned in this work. Also, nothing written herein is meant to imply anything regarding the sexuality of any of the celebrities in the submission. Also, this series of submissions may contain religious references which are not meant to offend anyone. The religious references included in this submission reflect only the author's personal convictions. For reasons of clarity, and also for legal reasons, the author-character's date of birth shall be the last calendar day in June.
Also, if reading/viewing homosexual material is illicit in your case, please stop here and do not read further. Because of the nature of this submission, it may be necessary to mention other authors whose works are posted at the Nifty archive and mirror sites (accessible at http://www.nifty.org/) and imply or state that those authors are any celebrity. This is not to be construed in any way, shape, form or fashion that those authors truly are any celebrity, whether or not that celebrity's name is intimated, implied, or actually stated. Also, the author's name has been changed for personal reasons, and his discription is not that of the real author. The events depicted in this work are fictional. They are the author's own fantasies/dreams/thoughts.
End Author's Disclaimer
The Other Disclaimer
The terms "Hardee's" and "combo meal," as well as the names of any of Hardee's products are the intellectual property of Hardee's Food Systems, Inc, and CKE Restaurants, Inc., and they retain all rights guaranteed to them by the Contstitution of the United States, any and all applicable Federal Laws and Treaties, as well as those several rights afforded to them by the laws of the State and Municipality wherein Hardee's Food Systems, Inc, and CKE Restaurants, Inc. shall reside and that do apply thereto.
All other copyrighted Terms and registered Trademarks are the sole intellectual property of the company that owns them, and they own the rights that apply thereto as stated above.
The Author of this work, as well as any person with whom he may have collaberated to compose this piece was not paid, nor shall he accept any payment for the use and publication of any copyrighted work or registered trademark used herein.
Also, any and all prices named here are subject to change at any time in exercise of the Rights of those who own them.
End Other Disclaimer
"as yet, untitled..."
Well, I suppose I should take this opportunity to introduce myself. I'm Russell Jaymes Blake. I'm not short, about five feet, eleven inches tall. I'm not done growing, by the way. I look a little Germanic. I have very striking blue eyes that turn hazel when I'm angry and just plain grey when I'm sad. I'll be six-feet-two by the time I'm done. Watch me. Anyway, I'm not fat, or even a bit overweight, which is a miracle, since I love food.
I lost a good 30 pounds since I started working here, and I've been going to the gym more, so I've put that weight back on, but now in the form of muscle. I love music, and I've always wanted to dance, but I never felt good about it, since I used to be so overweight. After I lost all of this weight, though, I felt good enough about me to actually go start taking lessons, and I've become quite good, especially at modern pop and swing. I've also been lifting weights, so I'm rather well built. I'm slim, and I've got a good bit of definition in me, especially in my arms and chest.
I live in a little apartment. It's a cute little 2-1-2, and for those of you who aren't up on your real-estate terms, that means it has 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, and a 2-car garage. I live there with my roommate, Jeff.
I've finally resigned myself to the fact that I'm gay, but I've told no one about it not even Jeff, my roommate. He's straight. He's pretty good looking, too, but he's just not into guys.
-But that's okay. I abosolutely and completely respect that.
-Oh, and just for what it's worth, I am a virgin.
-Oh, and I love music. All of it, except music with satanic, hateful, or vulgar lyrics. Jeff is the same way.
-And NSYNC is our favourite group of all time. It's two dolphins, a mother and child, made of silver. I always grab onto them for comfort.
-But anyway, the story...
I was a bit tired. I wasn't sleepy, exactly, but I was emotionally drained. Again. I put on the headset, clipping the transmitter to my left pocket. An hissing sound filled my left ear. I hit the largest of the three buttons on the top of the little pack on my hip. Smiling, I made my face brighten up.
"Welcome to Hardee's! Can I take your order please? Would you like to try one of our combos tonight?" I issued the "classic" Hardee's greeting, as was my custom, since my manager had told me not to say "howdy" again.
The reply came from a woman, and from the sound of her voice, I figured she was forty-fivish, 150 pounds overweight, and smoked. "Hi! No thank you. -But I would like a three-piece chicken snack, and a large fries."
"Okay, and will that be all?"
"Yes, sir. That's it!" The lady sounded quite chipper.
"Thank you, ma'am. Please pull around to the window." I stood at the computer screen and hit the button that said "Send Lane 1."
The lady pulled up to the window. I stood, facing her. I was wrong. She was about thirty-eight, and not at all overweight, but she did stink like cigarettes.
I kept up my happy sound, but mellowed out the expression on my face. I moved my leg towards the wall, tripping the electronic sensor and opening the window.
Double-checking her order, I asked, "three-piece chicken, large fries?"
"Yes. That's it."
"Thank you, ma'am. That'll be four-seventy-five, please."
She handed me a five-dollar-bill.
"Thank you... -And out of five dollars." I hit "5","00" on the display, and the computer beeped as the cash drawer opened. I grabbed a quarter, and tore the receipt from the printer, laying the receipt atop the device as I went to lean out the window. "-And twenty-five cents is your change, ma'am. I'll be right up with that order for you. What pieces of chicken would you like?"
"Umm... I think a breast, wing and thigh will be fine, thank you.
"You're welcome, ma'am. I'll be right back with that." I leaned back in the window, grabbed the receipt, and went over to fill the order.
I had just gotten the whole thing together, and I even managed to fit the French fries into the box with the chicken. I slipped the receipt into the box, and leaned back out the still open window.
"Here you go, miss. The receipt is in the box. Have a good day! Please come again!"
"Thank you, I will!" The lady drove off.
I slouched. The smile slowly faded from my face, and I looked around. There were no people in the lobby. -At all. I grabbed a kid's size drink cup, and filled it about halfway up with cola. I sat down at one of the tables, and just stared out the window at the Arby's sign across the street. I began to let my mind wander.
I thought about the concert tonight. It was being held about five miles down the road at Starwood. -Or at least that's what everyone around here called it. Its new name is the "All-American Music Center." Some local group was opening, and then Ninety-eight Degrees and Brittany Spears would follow, with N SYNC getting to do the big finish. It was getting late. For some undisclosed reason, the concert's start was moved up to 5:00 PM. It was now around 7:15, according to the clock on the far wall, and I figured that the concert should be just about finished.
We had a couple more orders. I didn't think again about the concert that night, until about a half-hour later.
I was starting to feel down, something that I'd been doing quite a bit for the last month or so. I figured that it was just the stress of the new job, and that when I got used to it, I'd be better. I hadn't, and it didn't. I started to tear, another thing I'd been doing lately, but then something caught my eye.
I saw a car on the street outside the store, and I saw its turn signal come on. I got up, and went to the middle register on the front line. I watched as the car's lights came to a stop outside the side door. It was pitch dark outside, but I could see now that the "car" was actually a stretch limousine. I could see the figures of about eight people getting out of the car.
I hit the middle button on my transmitter pack and said, "incoming. Big carload. Looks like a rush."
Natt, my manager was on the backline. He nodded, and started to get some burger buns out, and into the toaster. Natalie, one of my co-workers came out of the new break room, and started to drop some fries. Carla, the other, got behind the register to my left. We could hear a bit of commotion, and I flipped the microphone on my uniform up, putting it against the headband of the set. I turned off the transmitter, and straightened the dolphins on the chain that I wore around my neck. The chain and pendant were a present from my mom about a year ago. I straightened myself up, and just as I did this, I saw people walk around from the wall on the left.
The people I saw first were big. -And I mean big. These three were huge black men. I figured an easy 300 pounds each. They were the kind of people of whom you didn't want to get in the way. They stood over in the dining room.
The next group I saw was NSYNC. Justin, J.C., Joey, Lance and Chris rounded the corner, and started to look at the menu. After about a minute of deliberation, they walked up to us, (I had already put on a happier face,) and I greeted them.
"Howdy," I knew that three of them were from the South, so I figured that Natt wouldn't mind if I "slipped up" just this once. "What can I get for you tonight?"
Lance, Joey and Justin were standing in front of me. Chris and J.C. were standing by Carla.
To make a long story short, Justin and Lance ordered three piece chicken meals with a small drink (our small drinks are like the mediums in most fast-food restaurants) and Joey ordered a Monster Burger combo with extra cheese, with large fries and drink.
I got their cups, and Joey gave me the most ludicrous look when I handed him his large drink. It held thirty-two ounces, but it looked like it held more like forty-eight.
When I asked him if he'd like something a bit smaller, he said "no, thanks," shking his head, "that'll be okay."
Carla and I filled all their orders, and they even got fresh chicken. It had come up just as they were coming in the door.
When the orders had been filled, the groups sat down, and Natt started to "break down" the chicken station, in other words he cleaned it up, put all of the chicken in the warmer, and covered the chicken's fry vats.
Seeing that there were no orders, and turning my headset back on, I went to sit down. I just chanced to look at my watch, and since it was now eight, I checked with Natt. My shift was over, and he said that it would be okay for me to clock out.
"Thanks, Natt. I don't think I'll leave just yet. I'm just going to sit in the lobby for a while."
"Okay, Russ," he said with a smile, "have a good night, man!"
I was so relieved to clock out. I grabbed a small drink, (Natt didn't mind,) and filled it part way up with water. It tasted like chlorine, but I didn't care. I sat down at the spot where I had been sitting earlier. I could see the group sitting over on the other side of the room. I sat my elbows on the table, and set my chin on my hands. I couldn't help but hear the group's conversation.
I began to let my mind wander again, this time to the topic of "friendship."
I began to think of how I'd never had any friends when I was little, and how I had gone into music to hide. I began to tear. I thought of how I'd always been snubbed for being too fat, how I had never fit in... I crossed my arms on the table and buried my face in them. I loved to cry, but now was neither the time nor the place. I started to shudder. I quickly composed myself, stood, and went to the restroom. I made it just in time. I broke down. I sat on the seat in the stall, shuddering. I was not crying; I was weeping. After what I figured was a good five-or-so minutes, I heard footsteps coming and the door to the restroom open.
Now, I'm not the kind of person to try to hide his crying because I don't like people seeing me cry, but I stopped as soon as I heard this, because I didn't think someone needed to hear someone blubbering in the background when they were relieving themselves. Whoever it was finished, washed their hands, and began to walk away. -But my heavy heart tried to kick in too soon. I was sobbing before the door closed.
I heard the door thud, and then, after a couple of seconds, open again. I dried up... again.
Footsteps. Coming closer. A hand atop the door to the stall in which I was crouched. (The door was left open just a bit.) The door opened. Someone peeked around the door to see me.
"Are you okay?" He startled me. I didn't expect him to speak.
"I (sniff) I'll be okay, thanks." I didn't look up, because I knew that if I did, I would start crying, and I wouldn't be able to stop any time soon.
"Hey, it can't be all that bad, can it?" His voice showed concern. "You wanna' talk?"
I couldn't help it. Good form got the best of me. I looked up and saw someone hovering over me. He was a good 6 feet 2 inches tall; he had dark short hair and piercing blue eyes. It was J.C. "No. I don't know. I'm just..." I trailed off for a second. "I'm sad, I guess." Tears began coming down my face again, and I looked away, even though good form told me I was being almost unforgivably rude.
"How come? Do you want to talk?" He came closer, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"I (sob) don't know why. I'm just sad." I wasn't about to let my real reasons for crying be known to him... yet. I grabbed onto the silver dolphins around my neck, and then the most unexpected thing in the world happenned to me.
"It's okay." He walked over to me and bent down, and put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug, releasing me after a couple of seconds. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I let go of the dolphins. "Nah. It's okay. I'm... It's just one of those days. I'm just drained, I guess" I lied, sniffing.
"Okay. Hey, why don't you wash your face, and then you can come sit with me and my friends, okay?"
"Thanks. That sounds great." I paused, clenched my teeth, scrunched my nose, and sniffed once. I cleared out my sinuses with one breath. (I'd learned how to do that, since I seemed to be crying a lot lately.)
"Whoa! You okay," he looked over at my name badge, "RuB."
I chuckled. "It's pronounced 'Russ'. -But don't worry, I get that a lot. -And yeah, I'm okay. I'm sorry for that." I figured that I still looked like crap, but I was feeling a little better, now.
"German spelling?"
"Yeah, how'd you know? It's not even printed with a real esstset," I said, wiping my eyes.
"I spent a little time in Germany. I picked up a little of the language. -But I must say that I'm surprised that I remembered that much."
I was smiling by now, and I was sitting up straighter. My face was still red and puffy, and my eyes still looked a bit bloodshot, but I was doing better. -And I felt a lot better.
"Okay, well, I don't know about you, but this bathroom is starting to get to me just a bit."
"Yeah, let's go sit in the dining room." I had to concur. I never liked those bathrooms, and besides, I was the one who had to clean... Nevermind.
"Okay."
I put my hands on my knees, leaned forward, and pushed myself up. Doing this, I must've looked like I was an old man. I went to the sink to wash my hands. I could tell that the soap dispenser was low, but I didn't care to fix it. -Besides, I was off-duty. I washed my hands, splashed some cold water on my face, and looked in the mirror. I looked like crap. I grabbed a towel, and dried my face and hands, and tossed it in to the trash can.
J.C. had been standing in the corner watching me the entire time. I stepped towards the door, and he quickly squirted some soap onto his hands, rubbed them together, and then rinsed them off. He dried his hands, and we walked out of the bathroom together.
I was starting to feel normal again. I'd been feeling better, but now I was starting to feel normal.
We got to the booth in which NSYNC was sitting, and Joey got out to make room for J.C. I just stood there for a second, and J.C. bade me sit.
I sat on the outside of the booth, next to Joey, with J.C. on the inside, Chris across from him, Justin across from Joey and Lance across from me.
"Well, I don't think that we've all been introduced," said J.C.
J.C. still didn't know that I knew his name, much less almost every "factoid" about the whole lot of them. I think he probably thought I had no clue that they were who they were.
They went around the table, introducing themselves, starting with Joey, who was on my right, and going clockwise around the table.
"Joey."
"J.C."
"Chris."
"Justin."
"Lance."
The last three were on the side of the table opposite me.
"Nice to meet you all," I said. "My name is Russ." I extended a hand towards them, which they all shook.
As if the group were of one mind, J.C. said, and everyone else asked, "German spelling?"
"Yeah. My mom was German."
"-So, are you okay? You look a bit sad. Been cryin'?" said Lance.
"Yeah. I think it's just the air in here," I lied, "it can do that to me sometimes."
Everyone seemed to accept the answer. Everyone, that is, except for Lance. He frowned and gave me a look that said, "okay, I don't believe you, but we'll talk about it later."
As we sat there for the next hour or so, we chatted, enjoying each other's company, and just generally goofing off. I really felt one of the group. -And without even knowing it. I felt accepted, something that was new to me.
I looked up at the clock on the wall. It said that it was nearing 9:30. I checked my watch.
J.C. noticed, and looked at his. "Well, it's about 9:30. What time do you close here, Russ?"
I said, "9 o' clock. -But it's okay, I'll let you out when you go."
Justin spoke up. "I think, then, it's time. We don't want to keep you."
"That's okay," I replied, "I don't mind. Actually, I'm having fun." Another afterthought. "-But you know, it might be a bit more enjoyable somewhere else."
Everyone in the group voiced their consent.
"How about you come back to our hotel with us?" Lance had been quiet for the last few minutes but now that he'd spoken, I noticed him a bit more.
I looked a bit taken aback. "Oh, gosh, I could never intrude like that..."
Lance jumped right in where I'd trailed off. "Poppycock. We would love to have you to the hotel! It'd be our pleasure, wouldn't it, guys?"
Everyone nodded and grunted or otherwise voiced their agreement.
"Then it's settled," Lance resumed speaking, "you're coming with us."
Not knowing exactly what to say, I said, "Okay, thanks." I blinked a couple of times, shaking my head as if I were trying to stay awake, when in fact, I was trying to get the invitation to sink in. "That sounds great."
We left. Natt locked the dining room behind us, and we went to the parking lot. It suddenly struck me that the three large black gentlemen and the driver had left some time ago. I decided to speak up. "Umm, do y'all wanna' take my van? I've got a Windstar..."
"Well," J.C. said, "I suppose, since our ride's not here..."
I expected Joey to be tired. I guess I was wrong, because he started jumping up and down like a giddy little school child, clapping his hands and shouting, "yea, yea, yea, yea, we're gonna' ride in the van!"
Everyone laughed at his antics, even him.
"Joey, I think that large Coke was a bit too much for you..." This came from Chris, who, up until now, had been relatively silent.
We all climbed into the van, and buckled up.
"Oh, shoot," Joey said, "we don't know how to get back to the hotel, do we?"
"Dangit," J.C. replied, "you're right, man. Russ, do you know how to get to the Hilton?"
"No, but my van does." I hit a button on the dashboard. "Computer, en-route directions to the Hilton in Nashville, Tennessee. Begin, Hardee's of LaVergne, Tennessee."
The computer made a warbling, then a trilling noise. "Confirmed," it said in a naturally-sounding male voice "en-route directions to Hilton hotel, Nashville, from Hardee's of LaVergne. Exit Hardee's restaurant, turn right."
The computer told me each direction, and I used it to get home. I knew that this thing would come in handy some time. This little toy only cost me $2,000, and I was glad that it was paying off, now.
We chatted on the way home, but never really did too much, so that I could always hear the computer.
When we finally arrived and parked, everyone just let out a great big sigh. I could tell that they were happy to be back to the hotel.
"So, how long are y'all here?" I couldn't resist asking.
"About two weeks. We have a little time off from life for a while," Lance said.
'Aah, Scoop finally shows himself,' I thought. I chuckled.
"What's so funny," Lance asked.
"Oh, nothing. Nevermind."
Well, to make what could be a really long story short, we finally got to their rooms, and everyone went to get freshened up. We'd agreed to meet in Chris's room in about fifteen or twenty minutes Since everyone had their own room, Lance invited me in with him.
I entered the room, and hid my surprise. Don't get me wrong, I mean, it was a nice room, but not quite as big as I'd have expected, but then, I guess since Lance (for all I know) thought I had no clue who he was, it made things a bit easier for him. The room was your standard hotel room, except that it was about five feet bigger in each direction. The colors in the room were based on pale yellows and blues.
"Have a seat."
Again, we chatted, and he got comfy. -But he looked at me in my messy uniform.
"Hey, you look like crap. No offense, but..."
"Oh, that's okay, Lance. Working in a place like Hardee's doesn't give you a choice but to get dirty. I'll be fine."
"Well, fine isn't good enough for me, so you can borrow some of my clothes."
He looked me up and down. "Yeah, we're the same height and build. My stuff will suit you fine." He went over to the dresser and pulled out a couple of things. He handed me a pair of black pants and a blue shirt. "How're these?"
"Oh, Lance, you don't have to-"
"I insist."
"They'll be great, thanks. Can I use your bathroom?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Thanks."
I changed, and I went into the bathroom, emerging but a minute or so later, with his clothes on and my clothes neatly folded and laid across my left arm.
"There, that's better," Lance said.
"Yeah, thanks. It feels much better than what I was wearing before. Man, those pants are heavy!"
We headed over to Chris's room, but we were all dead tired, me included. We'd had a four-hour-long rush, and it just about did me in. We watched a little late-night television on the tube in Chris's room, but then decided that it was rather pointless, since we were all so dead tired.
"Well, guys, I guess that's my cue to leave," I said as I got up. That was a bad idea. I was tired, and I lost my balance.
"I don't think so." Lance said. "Look at you, you're dead tired. You can't drive like this. No. You can spend the night in my room."
"Lance, really, I coul-"
"Absolutely no. You're not going to go get yourself killed. -Besides, it's not intruding. I invited you. So move," he said, smiling.
"Well, then, gentlemen, I guess that we're off." I shook everyone's hand again, and they all bade me good night.
Lance and I went to his room, and sat on the bed. There was only one in the room, and it was a custom-made one. It was just bigger than a twin, but not quite a double.
We talked as we undressed. After a moment, I was in my boxers, and he was in a teeshirt and a pair of boxer/briefs. He hesitated, as if he didn't know what to do next.
"Umm, I'll take the sofa," I said.
"Oh, no, you won't. I'll take it."
"Like heck you will. This is a HOTEL! You'll freeze in here tonight! I'll take the sofa, and you'll take the couch."
"No, you'll take the bed. I'll be oaky, really."
"Look, Lance," I couldn't help but grin at how childish we must have looked, staning there in our boxers and bickering over who got the sofa, "I'm not going to let you have the sofa. This is a hotel. You'll freeze. I practically live in the freezer at work. I'm used to the cold. It'll be okay, really. Besides, I'm too tired to argue about it.
"Good, then. If you're too tired to argue, then it looks like I'm going to get the last word, doesn't it? We're both adult enough to stay on our own sides of the bed, aren't we?"
"Well, I suppose so," I said hesitantly. My being gay and not having come out to him yet was a bit unnerving, and I was starting to get nervous.
"Then get in."
"-But Lance-"
"-Just get in," he cut me off.
"Lance..."
"No."
"Stop, Lance. Please." There was a pleadig quality to my voice, now. It was one that did not go unnoticed.
"What's wrong?" He was tired and exaspirated, and I could hear it in his voice. He was also concerned for me, which I could hear too. I could also see it in his face. -And that made the next words out of my mouth the hardest I'd ever have to speak.
"Lance," I opened my mouth to say the next word, but it wouldn't come out. I had to force myself to say it. "Lance... I'm gay."
He just looked at me. Blankly. He stood there, blinking. I knew that when it registered with him, he'd curse me and kick me out, hating him, thinking that I wanted to use him for... I didn't even dare finish the thought. I teared up, and my lips began to tremble, because I knew what he was going to do. I looked down at the floor, away from him. My heart was aching. I was in more pain than I'd ever been in in my life. After a moment, though, I looked back at him, terrified of what he was going to say.
His lips parted. Now, I knew he would spit on me. He was going to curse me and kick me out. -But he didn't. His mezzo-baritone speaking voice rang through me and I'd tried to numb myself to what he was going to say. But the words that came out of his mouth absolutely destroyed every emotional barricade that I'd ever put up. "Russ, It's okay." I was numb to what I'd expected him to say, but those words dissolved that numbness. Now, it was my turn to let words sink in. As they did, I just looked at him, as he'd done to me. I began to cry. Softly, silently, I just stood there, shuddering, too overwhelmed by what he'd just said... even to tear. I closed my eyes.
"It's okay, Russ," he repeated. "I'm here. I won't hurt you. It's okay. Just cry." His voice was like a medicine for me, helping to heal the pain in my heart.
Still crying, I looked back up at him. There was no hate, no disgust.
I slumped over, crying. Raw emotion flowed from me. I looked back at him.
He looked at me with love in his eyes. Not lustful love. Just love. Loving love. The kind that says, "I don't care what you are, or what you did. I'll be here for you, and you'll never have to hurt again." He smiled. It wasn't a condemning smile, but rather the kind that lets one see the real person trapped behind the mask of their face.
I began to weep, now, instead of just cry. Tears were streaming down my face, as I just stood there, silently. He came over to me and hugged me. I felt as though I had found a friend. A true friend, who, no matter what, would be there for me. I hugged him back. I began to cry on his shoulder. I latched onto him, wanting never to let go.
My body shook with the hurt and heartache that I'd held silently for so long.
I couldn't see it, but he was tearing, too.
His voice was soft as he half-whispered to me, "it's okay. Just cry. It's alright." He saw the pain. He saw the anguish. He saw the strife, and all of the times I'd been rejected. He saw my heavy, broken, aching heart... and he felt it.
This was a moment I'd been waiting for, for a long, long time. The moment when you find the one person, who, although may never be your lover, will love you and carry you unconditionally through your best times and worst.
I'd cried much about this, but never this hard. I'd learned to cry silently, in the bathroom, with the fan on, to cover my breathing, so that no one could hear me, but there was no fan here, no locked door. There was just me, and Lance. I cried so hard that I couldn't help but moan. It was a long, low, gut-wrenching moan, more passionate than any that I dreamed was possible.
I cried harder than I'd ever cried before. I cried for all of the times that I was called "faggot" or "you fucking queer." I cried for the time that my uncle had slapped me across the face and kicked me out of his house on Thanksgiving day, and sent me a letter for Christmas telling me that he hated me, and would shoot me on sight if I ever came near his house again. I cried for the time that my string orchestra... the one group I was close to at all... ever... had found out that I was gay, then, one day, stopped playing during my solo, collectively spat at me, and packed up and left as the conductor walked out, too. I was so sad. It felt as though my empty heart was ripping into shreads.
I could feel weight after weight being piled on my heavy heart as I relived each of these experiences, but then, with each sob, each shudder, each "shussh" from Lance, the weights being lifted, and my heart being mended and healed.
I pulled Lance tight to me, and he pulled me close to him. He picked me up in his arms, and took me over to the bed, where he sat down on the bed's edge and held me like a baby. He began to wipe the tears from my face, and ran his hands through my hair.
"Ohh, Russell. Oh, Russ," he said, "it's okay. It's okay. It'll be alright. Just cry. Let it go."
I was moved beyond anything I'd ever felt. I had a friend, now. That fact sunk in, and I began to cry even harder and harder, until I couldn't cry any harder. I pulled him close once more, hanging on for dear life. I just sat there on the bed, rocking myself, but Lance wouldn't let me rock. He rocked me, instead. I just sat there, shuddering, being rocked by Lance, holding onto him for dear life. The pure love radiating from him was almost tangible, and I felt as though I could drown in it. Lance was my anchor in the real world, and I was desperately clinging to him. I felt as if I'd drown... unrecoverably... in my own emotion, without him there to hold me up.
I just sat there for a long while, Lance's strong arms around me, not letting anything or anyone hurt me again.
Before I knew it, I was there, in Lance's arms, asleep.
Well, there you have it! I hope y'all liked it, and for what it's worth, the computer in the van is a real one offered by one of the major Japanese car companies at a cost of between $2000 and $4000, depending on the model. Mine's special, tho'. On theirs, you have to spell the name of the places you want to get to and from... This is just a little of my own "poetic" licence.
For the record, I've changed my own name in posting this story. -And no, the character's name isn't my own. I've also changed some other personal information that some of you may be able to access. To those of you who know me, however, nothing's changed since we've spoken. :)
This story is one that my baby co-wrote with me. We've started the next chapter, but I'll have to get back in touch with him before we can do that.
One last little thing... I know some of the grammar isn't perfect. I know that some of the characters wouldn't speak some of the words they do in this story. This draft was last edited in... I believe December of 1999 or January of 2000. This is because I wrote this story with my baby with whom I haven't spoken since before Mother's Day, 2000. We are still on good terms, tho. :)
Write me, y'all, and tell me what you think!
Later! -R. James Blake
To my baby, Q-ball: I love you more than I can even tell you, my baby, Q-Ball. -And I saw you wink on New Year's Eve... THREE TIMES! hugs :) I can't wait until June...
"I'm sooooooo excited,
And I just can't hide it!
I know; I know; I know; I know;
I know I want to!
I want to!" :) hugS and kisses :)
Oh, and I wrote the disclaimers completely by hand. How'd I do? Are you proud of me???? :)
Write me at my new address? I'll be looking forward to it, and whatever happens, expect a certain someone to pop up at your place in early July or late, late June! I'm praying for you and for us, every day!!! I LOVE YOU! hugS and kisseS
Your baby, -R. :)