Performers Life

Published on Feb 2, 2023

Gay

A Performer's Life - 1

Disclaimer--- This story should NOT be read by anyone under the legal age in their country. If you have a problem with this please talk to your government and you can try and work it out with them. If you are insulted by written display of sex etc please DO NOT read this story.
This story in NO way reflects upon the sexual preferences or sexual partners of anyone mentioned. The author holds no responsibility for any actions taken by people reading this work of FICTION. If you do not agree with any of this DO NOT read this story.

By the way, it might take a few segments for us to even get around to the boybands themselves. I have alot to put together before they actually enter the picture. Sorry if you don't like that but oh well, this is an erotic story, not a story about getting directly into bed. By making everything take time I amd trying to make things more real, so be patient and everything will come out right.

Questions, Comments, Suggestions: e-mail GayNight@hotmail.com
Now to the story!!!

A Performer's Life - 1


It was my final day of school and I was loving every minute of it. I had a 3.78 GPA, so I was exempt from exams and I was graduating with honors. I wouldn't have to worry about getting into any colleges if I wanted, but I didn't want. I had always had my heart set on the arts. To me it was a much more fun way to make a living. The year before I had auditioned and was hired for the Busch Gardens and Water Country USA performance group. I had danced all summer and had a wonderful time, and best of all got paid really well for it. Such an easy way to make a nice sum of money, as long as you could get a job; but I was a damn good dance, if I do say so myself, so I had no problems getting a job. This year I was going back to work there for the summer and then into the fall. Then I would be out on my own to get a job somewhere or get stuck going back to the parents and get forced into going to college. Damn parents could be such a pain sometimes.

I couldn't stand the thought of going back to school for more brain numbing torture. I wanted to get out and live a little. I wanted to dance as much as I could before I got to old to do so. A dancers career only lasts into their early thirties and I was going to make full use of the years I had.

Of course that wasn't my only motive, although it was my greatest. I didn't want to have to "go back into hiding" so to speak. In our little county no one admitted to being gay unless they had some sort of death wish. If I went back to my parents they would send me to the college in town because they worked for it and would get near free tuition. It would drive me insane to head "back into the closet."

I had known I was gay since my freshman year of highschool, but as I look back now I see evidence of it in my memories. Thoughts that for some strange reason I still remember, even though I was only six at the time I thought them. Interesting how the brain works, isn't it? I can remember that stuff but I can't seem to remember what I had for breakfast.

I had left the closet the previous year at Busch Gardens in Richmond, Virginia and had both met my first boyfriend, and lost my virginity. I had never really praised virginity as anything sacred, it was just some crazy thing that the church dreamed up to keep us doing their bidding and to get money from us when we went to confessional. I'm not a religious person either. I had my first boyfriend, lost my virginity and was completely happy. Then the summer came to a close and once again I was alone. My boyfriend and I tried to keep things going, but long distance relationships are so hard to keep up, and we weren't so attached that it was the end of the world unless we kept it up. At the beginning we knew that it would only last for a couple of months, and that was all it did last, but it was nice while it did.

I've always been somewhat of a loner. When I was five, 1st grade, I started dancing. That immediately set me apart from the other boys. That is how bad the people here are. I got along quite well with the girls, but then in fifth grade I went to a private school. That cut me off from everyone for a whole year, and my ties were never reestablished. They still recognized my existence, if only barely, but they weren't close friends anymore.

I went through middle school with about three friends and a steadily growing barrier between me and other people. It didn't help that I was mature for my age and I really couldn't relate to anyone other than adults. In high school I picked up some more "friends" but they were really just friends of my middle school friends and we got semi-close, but eventually I faded into nothing but someone who was there if they needed a shoulder to cry on. I am exceptionally good at helping people with their problems. I have been told by countless people that I should be a psychologist or a stripper. The former serious, the latter for fun, but based on some seriousness. My dancer's body is extremely good looking and very flexible. I've contemplated going into modeling, but I like the applause that come with performing too much.

I did make one good friend out of that group, one of two people that I can go to and tell EVERYTHING, Meggan. She is so sweet and compassionate, and good looking, if I wasn't gay I would ask her out in a heartbeat. The other is Leslie. I met Leslie at a summer program that I taught dance at during a summer several years ago. She is several years older than me and in college, while Meggan is a year below me in school.

The barrier I built between myself and the world kept me in effective isolation from everyone. I refused to bring myself down to their level when they made rude comments about my sexual orientation -- based upon my dancing, not any facts they found. Their calling me gay didn't bother me so much as their calling me gay because I dance. Because I ignored their snide comments they thought that I was conceited and so continued the vicious cycle. The only time I really opened up was when I left that county and worked at Busch Gardens. There at least I knew that people wouldn't kill me, and if they had problems it would only last until the end of the summer. Of course I had nothing to worry about. It seems that the dancing field draws lots of gays and I was completely in my element.

I still haven't told my parents about being gay, and I figure that I won't tell them until I end up with someone steady for a long time. Basically, someone that I would marry if it were legal. Hell I might move to Hawaii if they don't outlaw gay marriages before I find someone.

I couldn't wait to graduate and get out of the county so I could set about finding that "one person for me." My little countdown was finally ticking down to the end of its days. Today, Wednesday, last day of school. Graduation on Saturday, three days later. Then the following week my graduation present to myself: BackStreet Boys Concert in Richmond, front and center, 12th row; I was in ectasy.

I walked through the school halls for what would be the last day I would ever have to. Although I am sure I would walk through them again, I just wouldn't ever be a student again. I walked slowly to my first period class, my mind buzzing. "What the hell am I doing here? I asked myself. "Barely anyone else is going to be here, I don't need today to pass, and I certainely won't have to make up any of the work today, if there even is any. And I have never skipped a single day of school. I let the thought of skipping roll around in my mind for a while, but decided against it. I guess I was just "to good a kid", as my mother liked to put it, to do anything of the sort.

I put up with classes for the rest of the day. Pretty much all we did in all of the classes was talk. Of course I had no one to talk to so I pulled out my trusty book and read. I had almost finished the book by the time the school day came to an end. I read very quickly. A habit, either good or bad depending on how you look at it, that I picked up from my mother. The final bell rang and I got up with the few people that came for classes and headed out into the halls.

I had cleaned out my locker a couple of days before so I didn't have to worry about getting anything before I left. But there was one person that I wanted to see before the day was out. I navigated the crowded halls until I made it to Meggan's locker. She was grabbing the last couple of things out of the bottom fo teh locker and stuffing them into her backpack. "Hey babe," I said, walking up behind her.

"Hey." she replied, somewhat pre-occupied. "So how's it feel being your last day of school?"

"Wonderful! Too bad you have 3 more days!" I taunted. "That's what you get for being a Junior!"

"Like I had a choice in the matter! You're bringing me home, right?"

"Yep." We walked silently through the halls out to the Senior parking lot. As we walked out the front doors I stopped and took a deep dramatic breath then released it, just as dramatically.

"Smart ass!" Meggan said, slapping me lightly on the arm. "You're just trying you're hardest to rub it in, aren't you!?!"

I smiled, "Absolutely."

We wound our way through the maze of cars to my old beat up '88 Toyota Camry. It may not be a nice car or anything, but is has four wheels and it goes, and that is what is important. We got in and I started the engine while flipping the radio to the local Hits station.

We pulled out onto the highway and headed into town towards Meggan's house, listening to the music. About halfway to her house Backstreet's "Show me the Meaning" came on and we sang at the top of our lungs, our favorite pasttime. "So babe," Meggan said. "You graduate in three days then you're running off to a Backstreet concert and you aren't taking me! And on top of it all, you're running off to Busch Gardens and leaving me here all alone this summer. My sister is going to drive me crazy!"

"You are already crazy," I replied, laughing. I got a smack in return for my trouble. "I'll try to get you out to Busch Gardens for a week or two, but no promises." I told her. "I don't think I could take too long away from you, I'd probably die from not being able to tell someone how bad my life is." We both laughed at the truth in the statement.

Laughing was our way of making everything ok. If we could laugh about it then it wasn't really a problem, it could be solved. Laughing was our answer to everything. We laughed at jokes, we laughed to relieve pressure, we laughed at people, we laughed just for the sake of laughing. If I had a nickel for every time we just spontaneously started laughing I would be a millionare.

All to soon we arrived at Meggan's house and she got out. "Hey, I'll pick you up from school tomorrow, ok?" She nodded then turned and walked down her driveway to her door. After she unlocked it and went inside I pulled away from the curb and began my short journey home."

We stood on the dais facing the conductor. He began the song, giving us four beats before we started. The group sung with all our strength, as if only by making this sound the best we had ever sung it, would we be allowed to graduate. Obviously this wasn't true, but it certainely felt like it. Our Choral class had been working on the piece for over a month and we knew it by heart.

Soon, the last chord sounded, ringing in the air, hovering over the audience with its haunting melody. The audience burst into wild clamping. Curious how applause start out as a drone of unfocused sound then morph into one steady, complementary beat. But however they sound, every performer loves the applause that come at the end of any piece. We couldn't help but smile at the appreciation of the audience.

All of the Junior and Sophmores sat down and the five Seniors in this year's group filed out of the two rows of chairs and out onto the very front of the dais. It just so happened that this year the five seniors were Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Baritone, and Bass, as oppossed to getting mixed groupings which can lead to odd, unbalanced voicings, depending upon your singers. I stood next to one of my "friends," Brian, who sung Bass. I sung Baritone, and to my right was Ryan, the Tenor.

Ryan took on step in front of all of us and gave us a four count and we all began singing in perfect harmony with the piano in front of us. As we sounded the first chord the rest of us stepped forward even with Ryan. We had practiced so much that our movement was perfectly fluid and together.

We, the Seniors, had written the song ourselves, as a kind of tribute to ourselves, and the rest of the Senior class. We had worked together on the Chorus and had each written our own Solos. Mine was the fifth and last solo. It was upon me before I even realized it. I felt a slight knot of stage-fright grow below my breastbone, but I forced it down and sung with confidence.

Sunrise, shining on a new beginning.
Moving from the stars, the wishes,
Into the the harsh light of day.
I will stand against the sun.
I will stand against the eyes peering into my soul.
I will stand as the rock against the sea.
Hidden depths will see me through,
Arrow unswerving on its course.

I sang my part perfectly and we repeated the Chorus one final time then ended with one final chord. The audience hesitated before bursting into applause again. When the applause finally died down the conductor stepped in front of us witha microphone and said a few words to the audience about how hard we had worked and all that jazz. We bore it silently. When he told the audience that we had acutally written the last piece ourselves they burst in to applause again. We all couldn't help but smile.

We returned to our seats and sat through the rest of the graduation ceremony. Silently listenning to the various speechs I couldn't help but let my mind drift. What would I be doing next year after Busch Gardens. Now that I didn't have school and what little "safety" it supplied I was beginning to worry about my future.

Those thoughts were quickly banished when everyone suddenly started cheering. The Principal was stepping forward and motioning everyone to silence. It took several minutes but everyone finally calmed down. "Seniors, if you will so kindly move your tassel from the right to left," he paused as our combined motion made a slight rush of air and sound. "I now pronounce you graduated, the class of two thousand and one!"

Everyone broke into cheers once again and we collectively threw our caps up into the air with reckless abandon. We all congradulated each other, hugging anyone close enough to get our arms around. The final release from the public education system like a breath that we had been holding since kindergarten finally being released. The dizziness that eveloped us all left us weak in the knees.

The band began to play as we processed out of the room. It took far to long for us all to make it out of the room, but we all did eventually and it was cause for much celebration. Two girls who had been my friends back in elementary school, Sarah and Leslie, not my best friend, walked over to me. They appeared nervous, but they opened their mouths together, "Gabriel?" they asked togther, "What were you planning on doing tonight?"

"Well," I didn't want to admit it, "nothing."

"That's what we figured," Sarah said.

"When you didn't got to prom we guess that you felt out of place," Leslie said. She must have noticed the look of puzzlement on my face. "So we want you to come to my house tonight at 8:00 for a graduation party."

I was so surprised by the offer that I accepted. "Sure! It would be my honor." The giggled at my response, but said nothing. They simply nodded and moved away. "So much for no one ever noticing me. I always thought they were so much higher than me on the social ladder. I wonder what changed their minds. I didn't have long to ponder the thought because Meggan appeared out of nowhere and wrapped me up in a hug, giving me a kiss on the tip of the nose. She always was a little odd. "Hey babe," I said, excitedly.

"Hey to yourself. You're coming to my house and you are going to eat cake! Even if I have to force it down your throat!"

"When has anyone ever had to force me to eat cake!?!"

"I dunno, but we could try if you want."

"I don't, trust me!" We walked out of the room, my arm around her waist and hers around my shoulders. It was things like this that made people think that we were dating, even though we most definetely were not. It was probably one of the only things that saved me from being rapped because people thought I was a faggot. Meggan gave them just enough doubt that they didn't want to try anything that they might regret; like they wouldn't regret it if it turned out I was gay. Which I am, but they didn't know that for sure, merely used it as a good way to attack my mental stability. I don't know if they do it for fun or to try and actually bring me down to their level. Well it had never and would never work. Not when I had people like Meggan to keep me standing tall. What would I do without her? Probably die from depression!


I pulled up in front of Leslie's house and braced myself. I couldn't believe that I had agreed to come. It wasn't too late to back out, I could say that something had come up, except they would know that I was avoiding the party, and they would think I was scared. What's the worst that could happen? I could get totally humilitated. I won't even be here in a few weeks, why does it matter? "Because it does!" my mind told me, with its usual lack of logic.

"Well this is stupid," I told myself. "I can't sit here all night, people will come by and think that I am just plain moronic. I'm going to do it!" I opened the door and stepped out onto the street, then closed the door behind me and walked quickly around the car to the sidewalk. I found my feet carrying me to the door which I uncertainely knocked on.

Leslie opened the door and smiled when she saw me. "Wow, I wasn't sure that you would actually come, but I was hoping." She leaned towards me and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I blushed a bright red in response. She laughed when she saw my change in color. "Don't worry, everyone else inside it red too, it is kind of hot in there with all those people. You'll blend right in. Oh, and by the way, nice outfit."

The last comment really surprised me. I was wearing a tight fitting black tee-shirt, black jeans and black leather shoe-boots. I knew I looked good in black but I had never considered myself really great at fashion, and here was one of the people who had always been above me telling me that my outfit was nice. I was ready to fall down on my knees and thank her, but I restrained myself and merely said, "Thanks." The I followed her through a short hall and into the living room.

There were bodies everywhere. People sitting on the sofa, people leaning against the wall, people standing in the middle of the floor dancing, people sitting on the floor, and the low buzz of conversation combined with the music sounded like Mariah Carey imitating a bee's nest in three different octaves.

I quickly scanned the crowd, looking for someone I knew. Things was I knew pretty much everyone there, but I wasn't really friends with anyone. I contemplated which group I should try and insert myself into.

Thankfully, the decision was taken out of my hands. Nick, the class, or former class, president, and a real hottie, walked over to me and engaged me in conversation. He was really good at talking and could find something in common with almost anyone so he was easy to talk to. That combined with his carefree personality made him a very attractive guy, unfortunately it couldn't go beyond attractive or there could be some serious trouble. Besides, we would both be leaving soon enough, even if he was gay, or at least bi. I killed that chain of thought quickly, afraid where it would lead, and focused harder on the conversation.

We talked for several minutes about our plans for the summer and next year. He didn't have any real plans for the summer, and promised that he would come and see me perform, I immediately decided that he was just being nice and would never show up. The thought didn't really bother me, I had gotten used to it long ago.

Several other people joined in the conversation and I soon found myself standing there with everyone else doing all the talking. Every time I opened my mouth to say something someone else jumped in before I could get my two cents in. After a considerable frustrating amount of time I just backed away from the converstation, no one the wiser for it.

I found my way to a seat in the corner of the room and watched everyone have a good time from my place of detachment. My face remained passive as I slowly drifted between the conversations, tuning my ears to each in turn. "I'm just not good a carrying conversation," I told myself. "Never have been, never will. Why did I even come to this party, I knew before I left home that it would just be torture. How can I possibly be this stupid!?!

I contemplated leaving the party now before the real depression set in, but no matter what conviction I could force into my brain I could not force my body into movement. People ignored me, I'm surprised that I didn't even get sidelong glances, which were what I was used to. Maybe the combination of dim lights and all the craziness filling the room kept anyone from noticing me long enough to give a lone guy in a corner any thought. The lonliness without any interruption actually made me feel better. At least people weren't sneering.

My silent reverie was broken by a face that appeared from nowhere in front of mine. Sarah was sitting on her heels in front of me. "There are some good songs on, do you want to dance?" she asked.

I smiled genuinely at her offer, dancing was one thing that I most definetely could do. "Sure! How could I possibly resist?" I replied, elliciting a short laugh from her. "Huh, maybe I do have some sort of latent sense of humor, but I personally didn't think that that was funny at all.

She stood up and took my hand, pulling me up after her. We walked out into the center of the living room together. The music was a fast techno beat which I quickly got into. I gyrated my hips in a figure eight while moving my torso in waves like a snake. Sarah and I moved closer together, rubbing against each other. How many guys envy the position I am in? I silently asked. How did I ever get to be in this position in the first place. I must be hallucinating! What suddenly changed her mind that I wasn't in fact beneath her notice. My thoughts were interrupted as the music changed into a synchopated jazz rythmn that required a moments concentration to move into.

After several songs the music changed into a slow piece. I thought for sure that Sarah would move away now, but she didn't. Instead she wrapped her arms around my neck, surprising me completely. I placed my arms around her waist and we moved slowly to the music's soft heavenly beat. If only she were a man I would have been in complete bliss. But I'd just have to make do with what I had.

The music came to an end and Sarah politely excused herself, saying that she was going to grab another drink. I stayed on the floor. I suppose if I was going to be here, I might as well dance, it was the one of two things that I could lose myself in: dance and music.

Swing music began to filter through the speakers and I smiled, I love Swing, it is so energetic and upbeat. It makes you forget your problems, and that was exactly what I was trying to do. People began to vacate the floor. For some odd reason people seem to become intimidated by Swing music. Like if they can't actually dance Swing, then they can't even be standing while the music is playing.

After everyone seated themselves only four people were left on the dance floor. One couple which was already dancing, and myself and Nick. Without a partner it is impossible to Swing, so I began to turn around and find a place to sit and watch the one remaining couple, but before I could find a seat Nick walked over to me. "I know it is a little wierd, but we both no Swing, why don't we dance. We might as well, it'll be fun, right?" he offered.

I allowed myself a slight smile and laugh although inside my heart was fluttering, could I take this without flipping out? "Sure, why not!" I replied. We moved out onto the floor and began the basic Swing step. "Alright, who's leading and who is following?" I asked.

"I dunno," he replied. "Whatever you prefer."

"Well I've been dancing forever and a day, and I am smaller than you are so why don't I take the girl's part, you lead." He smiled, and laughed an affirmative.

At first it was a little awkward for me. Not because I had problems with the steps or anything, I just couldn't get my heart to stop jumping every time we touched any parts of our bodies, but as the song continued I relaxed into the music and really enjoyed myself.

The dance ended all to soon, but in some ways I was happy it did. I didn't know how much longer I could keep myself from reacting to Nick's close presence. I remained on the floor for most of the night, stopping only to run to the bathroom and get refreshments. With all the fast paced dancing, it wasn't long until the party came to a close, and for once I was actually dissappointed that it had to end. I graciously thanked my hosts then returned home, to my bed. Somehow, I still managed to cry myself to sleep. Whether it was from frustration, depression, or joy I will simply never know.


The music blared loudly. Too loudly. Although the view from the twelfth row was spectacular, but my proximity to the speakers made it a chore for my ears. The speakers combined with the all overwhelming sound of young female voices crying out their love for the five guys that they had never, and probably would never meet.

I openly stared at the five guys on the stage, memorizing every detail that I could lay my eyes upon. I didn't particularly care if anyone thought I was gay. It wasn't like I would ever see any of these people ever again in my entire life.

Everyone was singing along to the songs, and I found myself joining in along with everyone else. The girl standing to my left turned to look at me for one short moment when I started singing. She said something, which was drowned out by the sound filling the room, but I could easily make out what she was saying by the formation of her lips. "Wow!" she had said. I replied, saying, "Thank You!" She must have caught it because she smiled before turning her attention back to the stage.

I kept my eye on her throughout the rest of the performance, and noticed that every once in awhile she would wince, slightly. I would try and pay extra attention to what was happening on the stage each time she winced, wondering what was causing the reaction. I noticed that each time she winced, one or more of the guys was slightly behind or ahead of the others. "Interesting," I thought. "I wonder why she is doing that. She must have seen this show a hundred times to notice things like that, unless she is really looking for mistakes. I banished the thought from my head, thinking nothing more of it now that I had figured outthe cause of her wincing.

After the show ended the girl turned to me. I realized quickly that she most certainely wasn't a girl. In the full house lights she was much more obviously in her prime. "Hi, I'm Fatima," she said. "I faintly heard you singing above all the noise in here. You sounded pretty darn good, and trust me I have heard plenty of singing, both good and quite terrible."

Her name sounded familiar, but I couldn't readily place it. I blushed lightly from her comment on my voice and tried to thank her for it and return the complement as best I could. "I'm Gabriel. Thank you very much! I happened to notice you have a very keen eye yourself, you noticed quite a few mistakes in the dancing that most people wouldn't have been able to catch."

She laughed in reply, a secretive smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm surprised that you noticed."

"Well I've been dancing since before I was born, or so my mother tells me. I have been taking formal classes since I was about five, so I have a fairly well trained eye. And I have done my fair share of choreographing, which sharpens the eye as well."

"Really!?!" she repied, incredulously. "Sounds about like myself, but I've been choreographing for quite a few years now."

"Wow, I admire your courage," I replied. "I have so much trouble getting people to do what I see in my head that I find teaching my work to people a huge hassel, although worth it when it finally gets performed."

"Yeah, the people I have to work with are pretty hard headed at times." She laughed quietly, as if at an inside joke.

"Well, I'd really best be going," I told her. "I have something like a three hour drive home. It was nice to meet you!"

"And it was nice to meet you too," she replied, smiling. She gave me a hug. "Keep up the dancing, if you dance half as well as you sing you could take yourself somewhere!"

"Thanks!" I said, one more time. "Take care of yourself."

I made my way out of the seats and into the aisle. I looked back over my shoulder once and saw, or at least thought I saw Fatima slipping into the backstage entrance doors. "Wow, now I'm seeing things," I thought to myself.

I thought about the concert on my long drive home. I really enjoyed the music and the dancing, even if they were very simple steps. I mean I can't really blame them for the dance or anything, they were singers, not dancers. That was why they hired dancers, to do the stuff that they couldn't. Well, and to add more to the show.

I kept just enough of my mind on the road to drive properly, and let the rest of my mind think about other things. Such as how much I wished I could have gotten a backstage pass and gotten to meet the boys. I knew that such vain hopes were just that, hopes, and would never come true. But one can dream, right?


I stood backstage, trotting in place to keep my legs warm. This would be my final performance at Busch Gardens. I had performed here for five straight years since I had graduated. I was twenty four and I figured maybe it was time to quit Busch Gardens and time to quit teaching in my small time and get out into the world where I can do some REAL performing. Not that Busch Gardens wasn't real performing, it just wasn't exactly what I wanted to do. I was hoping to get some kind of big break, but it wouldn't just land in my lap, I'd have to look for it. So I really had very little in the way of plans. Actually, I didn't even know what was happening after this performance. I hoped that something would turn itself up. I had offers from several jazz and modern companies, but that wasn't what I was really interested in. Sure they would be great jobs if I couldn't find anything else, but I'd rather look for some other stuff first.

I banished those thoughts from my head and brought myself back to the present, thinking about the dance, running the steps over in my head one last time. I was dressed from head to toe in tight fitting black spandex. The weave on the shirt gave it a rippling shimmer, while the pants were a cotton mix so they were simply black. This was the last, and my personal favorite, of all the dances. I had a solo and a pas de trois in it. They had selected me for my ballet trainning because it gave me the strength for higher jumps and stronger extensions. (Sorry about the dance terminology everyone. A pas de trois literally means step of three, or in other words three people partnering each other, usually two men and a woman. And extension is when you hold your leg straight in the air, usually above ninety degrees. It sounds a WHOLE LOT more simple than it is, trust me!) But the dance began with a core section (everyone onstage).

The music began and we waited for our cues. The core dancers lept onstage and began their combination, I won't even try to explain it, you probably wouldn't understand the terminology anyway. Halfway through their combination the three soloists, myself included, followed them out onto the stage. We did two short, easy lifts then ran back offstage.

Before I knew it, it was time for my solo. I took a deep breath then ran onstage and jumped into a switch leap, then cartwheeled into a toe-touch. (Switch leap is a leap into the air in a split position, then when you reach full height in the air you swing your legs down then back up in the opposite direction, going from a right split to a left split, or vice versa.) I began breathing hard from exertion, and thanked the lord that this wasn't a singing piece, and that it was last or I wouldn't have enough energy to continue anything after this. I continued the dance, going through all the moves grafully and perfectly in time to the music.

I finished my solo, and the rest of the dance went well. We all ran out for the curtain call and smiled and bowed to the audience which was clapping furiously. I was a sucker for applause and somehow my face managed to smile even bigger, although I don't understand how it can.

After the curtain call I headed backstage to the dressing rooms. All the men shared two dressing rooms and all the women shared another two rooms. I went to my mirror and removed all my make-up and hung all my constumes up, getting them out of the way.

I stripped down to my waste and began to wipe the accumulated sweat away with a towel. Suddenly I felt a pair of arms wrap around my body from behind. I looked in the mirror and smiled when I saw it was my friend Danny. My good friend Danny. We had slept together several times over the summer, but agreed to keep it stricly sex and friendship, now emotional attachment. Even so, it was going to hurt to not have him around, someone cool who understood me to talk to all the time.

"Well man, I guess this is it!" he said.

"Yeah I guess so," I replied. "I have your e-mail address and your celephone number and you have mine so we can keep in touch, right?"

"Yeah, sure, but it won't be the same."

"I know what you mean," I replied. "Maybe we'll see each other again next year."

"We'll just have to see." I could tell he liked the idea, but wasn't really counting on it. "Well I'm gonna go say bye to everyone else, see yah 'round!"

"See yah!" I replied before returning to my work.

I finished putting my things away and gathered up the things I owned. I would still have to get my things out of the apartment, but I had a few days on that, the lease didn't run out for another week, and everything was already packed it just needed getting taken out.

Walking out of the dressing rooms and into the halls I said bye to everyone and went to find the backstage manager to find out if they needed help with anything. I found him and he said that they were fine so I just walked into the lobby, content to take it easy for the rest of the night, maybe head over to a club, but I wasn't sure that I had the energy.

As usual after the last performance there were people in the lobby trying to recruit the dancers and singer for other jobs. Most of them didn't interest me, but one thing did catch my eye. A man standing next to a poster of Brittaney Spears. Now Brittaney isn't my favorite singer, first of all she isn't a man, but she is pretty good, and I like the fact that she isn't anarexic. I can't stand those people that are so thin that you think you could see through them. Her music also had a nice dance beat, which I one thing that I really look for in good music.

I walked on over to the man standing there. "Hi," I said.

"Hello," he replied. "You interested in being in the next Brittaney Spears video?" he asked.

"Might be, when are the auditions, and which song?"

"Auditions are two days from now and they are here actually. The song that they are filming is 'Born to Make You Happy.' It will be filmed up in the Blue Ridge mountains, sort of a lonely mountain with a great kind of idea. I guess it is supposed to be romantic, I don't know. Here take this," he said, offering me a brochure.

I thanked him and walked out to my car in the parking lot around the corner. I sat down and started the engine on the old clunker and started reading the brochure. The pay was pretty good for what it was. Four hundred fifty for a ten hour photo shoot, plus $20 an hour for rehearsals and overtime on the shoot. "That'll but some nice change in my pocket" I thought. Judging by the song and the stuff I've seen in her videos, this really can't be hard, and maybe I can get something out of it. I guess I'll do it, I don't really have anything better.


I found myself at the audition two days later. I was kind of hoping for a glance at Brittaney, but never got one. I'm not really sure why I wanted to see her anyway, she wasn't my type, that's for sure, and if I got the job then I would probably see plenty of her. I wasn't in the least worried about getting the job, judging by the other dancers that I had seen I didn't have to worry about competition there, and I was one of the best looking people there to -- When it comes to my work I can't afford to be nice, and somewhat conceited. It is the only way to get the job. In the entertainment business the nice guys really do finish last.

They finally called the group I was in up onstage. They taught us a quick number, which I had already learned by watching everyone else, then asked us to do it in groups of threes. I went in the second group and when we finished they asked me to stay and told everyone else they could leave.

I was told to go into a room on the side of the stage and get measurements taken then be back onstage in half an hour. I walked into the the room and a woman there took my measurements. The measurments she didn't take with her tape measure she took with her eyes. She smiled at me, and I smiled right back. She may be a woman, but I have always loved attention of any sort, probably why I love performing so much. I am just a natural show off.

When she was finished I headed back out into the audience and waited until they called us back onstage. I was onstage with twenty-five other people, but I still wasn't worried, none of them had quite the grace or finesse that I had, or the perfect smile. That is one thing that I am conceited about, my smile. I know that it is gorgeous! Heaven knows enough people have said so, and they can't all be wrong, can they?

They put us through a few more combinations, slowly whittling down the number of people onstage until they came down to fifteen people remaining. "Alright, we're ready for Brittaney!" one of the judges yelled. I raised my eyebrow in surprise, I didn't think that she would be at the auditions, it was surprising that she even had the time.

Nevertheless, Brittaney Spears walked into the room from the lobby a few minutes later, a huge smile on her face. I immediately recognized it as a "performance" smile. Several other people looked as if they were going to fall onto their knees, they were swaying, and would have had their chins on the floor if it were physically possible. I was able to keep my cool, because I really wasn't that big of a fan, and I had never been horribly impressed with celebrities. I suppose it was because I did everything they did and realized just how human all of it was. That and I was never really into the idolatry thing. While I admired their works and their fame, I never thought of them as more than very successful people. I mean, would you fall on your knees if Bill Gates walked in the room? Of course not!

She didn't say anything, she merely came and sat down in the third row of the audience and watched. The chreographer who was giving us all the combinations stood in front of us. "Alright, we only have room for nine people and their are fifteen of you. Some people are going to have to be let go, it doesn't at all reflect upon your talents," "Yeah, right! I thought. "Thoe whole idea is who is the most talented person to get the job done! DUH!!! "You just may not be what we are looking for. Brittaney here," he continued, gesturing towards Brittaney who had made herself comfortable in the chair, "is going to help us pick the nine lucky people. So here is what I hope is the last combination."

He immediately launched into teaching us the final combination. I picked it up quickly, and went over to the side of the stage and grabbed a water bottle and towel to get a drink and wipe away some sweat while the choreographer reviewed the steps with the other dancers. I felt eyes on me, and turned my head to see Brittaney looking at me, a questing look on her face. I knew she was trying to figure out why I wasn't reviewing the combination one last time with everyone else, if I thought that I was good enough to get away with not doing it.

Thing is, I was good enough, and it was a calculated gesture, to show that I picked up things fast and confidently. I just hoped it didn't come across as too vain, and blow up in my face. The others finished reviewing and prepared to perform it. I returned to the group, and felt the pressure of eyes on my back move away.

Once again I was put in the third group. As I watched the other dancers go through the steps as the music blared I tried to think how I could really set myself apart. Then it dawned on me, no one was really performing.

As it came for my group, I walked to center stage and moved into position: arms by my sides, in B Plus (one leg crossed behind the other), head down. As the music began I snapped my arms out and my head up and smiled for all I was worth, bringing up the "stage prescence" that I was so well known for at home

When we finished, I held the pose until they nodded. The choreographer turned around for a moment and looked at Brittaney. They didn't say anything, but I saw her nod. He turned around and asked me to leave the stage and asked to see the other two dancers again. I walked slowly off the stage, unable to figure out what I had done wrong. I thought I had performed well, and I did the steps correctly. . . I was so lost in thought that I almost didn't feel the hand on my shoulder.

The sudden contact made me jump, and quickly turn my head around to look at the offesive person. It was Brittaney herself. I took a quick breath and then let it out. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you there," she said sweetly. "I just wanted you to know that you've got the job, and you get the lead, with me," she smiled.

It took several moments for the sound of her voice to sink to my brain and be translated from air vibrations into actual words. I smiled in return when it finally dawned on me what she had said. "Wow!" was all I could manage to gasp out. Brittaney laughed.

"So tonight we were hoping that everyone that gets hired could come to dinner with me. It's a kind of way to get everyone to know one another, because once we get into the rehearsals and actually making the video there won't be much time for social time. Can you come?"

"Sure," I replied, managing to regain my composure. "What time?"

"Actually, right after the audition is over, it is getting about that time," she told me.

I quickly looked at my watch. It was about 5:30. I couldn't believe how much time had passed, it didn't feel like half that long. "Wow, I didn't realize how late it was!" Brittaney laughed in response.

"Well, I'm going to go finish watching everyone so why don't you just grab a seat with me and watch," she suggested, and I was more than happy to oblige. We walked, together, back over to the center of the room and took seats side by side.

We worked together to choose other dancers, I was surprised how quickly she accepted my help, she wasn't at all ditzy or conceited like all the magazines said. It made me glad, I don't know how long I could take a crazy, conceited teenage girl, but now I wouldn't have to. Before I knew it, we were done and the choreographer went to tell everyone who made it and who didn't and ask them about dinner while Brittaney took the time to chat.

Thirty minutes later we were sitting in a restuarant on the opposite side of Williamsburg from Busch Gardens, having fun making jokes and just talking about ourselves. The ten of us, including Brittaney, were seated around the huge round table, picking at our meals while others were talking but not allowing the food to stop the conversation.

I was seated next to Brittaney, a place that she had chosen herself. Next to me on my left side was Sarah, then continuing around the table Joe, Sam, Sandra, Meghan, Jimmy, Mel, and Aaron. We got to know each other very quickly, and were soon talking like we had been friends forever.

For some reason I clicked with Brittaney very well. Several times the warning lights went off in my head. Well, I'm going to have to disabuse her of the notion that I am available to her I thought. So far sexual orientation had not yet come up in the conversation, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before it came up, although somehow it never did manage to come up that night.


The bus dropped us off at the video set. My mouth hung open as the scenery reminded me so much of home. We were up in the mountains, looking down into a valley. Perched on top of the edge of a cliff was a log cabin. It was fairly well modernized, but still conveyed the cabin idea.

The storyline behind this video would be Brittaney in the mountains on a kind of retreat. She was praying for the one man that her heart would belong to. The dancers got to be faeries, and I was the "king" of the faeries. We were all in white, gold, and silver gauze constumes. The gauze was then covered with glitter. The way they caught the light, I found it hard to look at myself and not wonder if maybe I could actually be a faery.

The costumes restricted some of our movement, but it wasn't really a problem because the dancing in the video was very simple. We would be dancing through the woods and come upon Brittaney praying on the cliff. Then I would pull her away from the cliff and we would dance, then at the end I morphed from a faery into a man and we kissed, ending the video in a shower of light and dancing faeries whirling like dervishes around us.

We got most of the video shot and had only the final scene with us kissing left to film. We tried several shots, but just couldn't seem to get the effect that the director wanted. He kept telling me to feel the kiss more, but I just couldn't, I felt to uncomfortable, and Brittaney appeared to be enjoying the multiple takes far too much.

"Can I talk to Brittaney alone for a moment?" I asked the director.

He eyed me for a moment, trying to ascertain what it was I wanted to say. "Alright," he said, "but make it quick, i really want to wrap this up today."

"Thanks," I said, then turned around and grabbed Brittaney, leading her off towards a deserted part of the set. "Look Brittaney, we have to talk about this kiss. I --"

She didn't let me finish, "You're uncomfortable," she said, point-blank. "Is it me?" she asked.

"Well, yes and no," I replied, smiling slightly to reassure her. "You see, I'm, well I'm gay." For some reason it was harder to say then normal.

"Oh," was all she said.

"If you have a problem with it, I can leave."

She seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Oh! No! It just surprised me, that's all. I guess I kind of had my suspicions, but I was kind of hoping I was wrong. You are too cute, you're irresistable!"

"I think you must have gotten hit in the head," I joked, trying to lighten the mood, "I am by no means cute! So you have no problems with it or anything?"

"Nope," she replied. "Actually this means that we can be good friends instead of lovers or something. I've been looking for a friend for too long now, and truth is, I'll really like you."

"And I really like you, just not that way. I didn't want to say anything before because I thought that you might be upset or something."

"Not at all! Now lets get back to the set before they come looking for us, thinking we've crawled into bed together or something like that." We both laughed then headed back for the set.

We only had to go through the take one final time, after telling Brittaney about myself it made things so much easier, I could just kiss her and not have to worry about anything, because she wasn't judging it or me. "That's a wrap!" the director yelled merrily.

"Good kisser," Brittaney whispered in my ear then began giggling. I couldn't help but join in. "I need to talk to you later after we get out of these costumes and make-up, ok?"

A was a little wary of talking to her because of what I had just told her, but the shoot was over and I was getting paid, so it shouldn't matter, right? "Sure, I'll come to your dressing room in a few minutes, ok?" She nodded and we seperated, heading for our dressing rooms.

I changed into everyday clothes and removed all of the annoying makeup, although I had worn for all the performances I had been in since I was five I still wasn't used to it and still didn't like it, at all. I took a quick moment to focus myself, and be prepared for the worst, then went in search of Brittaney.

She was in her dressing room. I knocked before entering and she called to me to come in. She was standing on front of the mirror putting on her normal make-up, as opposed to filming make-up. I nearly burst into laughter when I saw her face all contorted as she put on some light eyeliner. For some reason, everyone that I have ever seen put on makeup always does wierd things with their face when they put anything on their eyes. I wonder why that is?

"Hey," she greeted me cheerfully.

"Hey," I replied. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," she paused for a moment, as if to gather her thoughts before she continued. "One of my dancers for the tours has decided that he wants to move on to another job, so we are looking for another dancer." The implications set my mind to racing. "I'd prefer not to have to audition new dancers, and I got the authority from managment to hire you if you want to do it. So what you do think?"

I couldn't say anything for several minutes. If I agreed I would be going on tour and performing across America and possibly even across the globe. I was also becoming good friends with Brittaney and this way we could continue to allow our friendship to grow. Not to mention the fact that she toured with some pretty cute groups, what were the chances that one of them had at least one gay member? And what were the chances that he wasn't dating anyone? Judging by Brittaney, relationships didn't come easy on the road so he might be single, but would any be gay? The pay would be great, not to mention I wouldn't have to pay for an apartment or anything. "Yes," I heard the words come out of my mouth almost without my volition. They surprised me just as much as they excited Brittaney.

"That is so great!" Brittaney almost screamed.

"Yeah, I can't believe this!!!" we degenerated to screams and and various shouts of joy. Before I knew it I was hugging her for all I was worth. "Thank you sooooo much!!!"

Finally after a good length of time had passed, we managed to get ourselves under control. "So when does the next tour start? And when do rehearsals for it start?"

"Well, rehearsals will start in one week then the tour will start two weeks after that. I will be headlining that tour with LFO. The first couple of performances will include 98 Degrees, and Christina." It didn't take me long to figure out who Christina was, and that Brittaney had some animosity for her. That could make for an interesting tour.

"Well if it is that soon I'll have to hussle to get things under control before I charge off into a new life." I was already making plans on what to do with my stuff. It would all go into storage at my parents, and I would have to have them take care of my bills and stuff while I was on tour. I'd have to buy luggage and. . . I brought myself back to the present. "I'm so happy! I've kind of being looking for a big change in lifestyle, and it seems it just walked up and knocked on my door with a minimum of effort on my part!" We both laughed, then I excused myself to start taking care of things. The next week would be far to busy!


They flew me into New Orleans which is where the tour would begin. It made sense that they should start either here or Baton Rouge since Brittaney was born in Lousiana. This tour would move from New Orleans, to Baton Rouge, then Houston, then through New Mexico and into California and LA where we would pick up 98 Degrees and Christina for a few shows then they would leave on their own tour and we would continue around the country in a kind of clockwise direction.

I still hadn't completely come to grips that I would be going on an across America tour and performing in front of millions of people. The thought was kind of scary, and getting more and more real as the moments passed.

I was greeted at the airport by a guard and two other people who introduced themselves as Greg and Samantha, Sam for short, who said they too were dancers. They said they looked forward to seeing what I could do, and I replied in the same kind. We talked about dance styles and what to expect with Brittaney's choreographer on the way to the hotel.

We stayed at the hotel just long enough for me to drop my things off in the room them gave me, and leave again for the label's offices. Once at the offices they proceeded to give me another run through of the tour, and all the things that would be expected of me, and how I should act in certain situations. The lecture went on for over two hours. To mind-numbing hours, I had already read everything that they were saying twice in all the paperwork they have given me when I signed a contract with them.

The meeting finally ended and the managment seemed as if they were happy enough, so they let me go back to the hotel. I made my way to my room and changed into some clothes that were more suitable for dancing in.

The room was big enough to do some stretching and a few smaller, non-moving jumps, and turns. I opened the door to the hall, just in case another dancer walked by and wanted to welcome me, or talk or something. Then I returned to the floor and began warming up. About halfway through my stretch excercises, I was down to splits, Brittaney walked into the room.

She saw me and ran across the remaining distance, pulling me into a hug on the floor. "Hey," she said happily. "It's been so long."

"Babe," I had taken to calling her babe sometime when we were filming the video, it was just something that I called almost everyone, that or dear. "It has barely been a week! People are going to wonder!"

"That's right, people are going to wonder," a voice from the door said.

Brittaney fliped her head around and smiled. "Hey sweety," she said. She turned back to me, "Gabe, this is Brandon, Brandon this is Gabriel, my new dancer. Brandon is my boyfriend from back home," she explained.

"Well, you don't have top worry about me," I told Brandon, "I am one hundred percent safe!"

After a moment I saw a flicker of understanding on his face. "You're --"

"Yes."

"Cool," he said, non-commitally.

"Well, unfortunately Brandon can't come on the tour, so I guess you can keep and eye on my behavior for him, right Gabe?"

"Sure," I said, "I don't see why not, he he really thinks it is necessary." We all laughed. "So what's up?" I asked.

"Well I am taking Brandon out to his car, then I wanted you to come meet all the other dancers. In an hour I have to go meet LFO. They are flying in, and I was kind of wondering if you would like to come." She winked at me. Did she know something I didn't?

"Sure, I'd love to," I replied, a guarded expression on my face.

"Well then, let's go!"

We walked downstairs and brought Brandon to his car. I averted my eyes as he and Brittaney exchanged a rather passionate kiss, then he left and Brittaney and I headed back upstairs. We found everyone in a kind of common room sitting around, stretching and talking.

I was introduced to everyone in turn. Aside from me there were, once again, eight other dancers, making ten dancers total, if you included Brittaney. We all talked for about 45 minutes until Brittaney and I had to leave to meet LFO.

We arrived at the airport just as their plane began to release passengers. We watched as everyone filed off of the plane, but there we no signs of LFO. We walked over to the attendants desk and were about to ask for a passenger manifest, but were heard a chorus of voices behind us. "Looking for us!?!"

Brittaney and I turned quickly around. Brittaney ran over and hugged all of them, I suppose they knew each other from some prior tour or something. "Guys," she said. "I want you to meet my friend Gabriel," she gestured towards me and I smiled.

I walked over to them to shake hands. "Gabriel, this is Rich," Brittaney continued, and I shook hands with Rich. He smiled at me warmly, a happy-go-lucky kind of expression on his face. He seemed like a cool enough guy. "This is Brad," I shook hands with Brad. He had a small secretive smile that I thought made him look even cuter, although he wasn't really top, he was quite good looking. "And this is Devin," she finished. I reached out to shake hands with Devin and when we touched there was a quiet snap and we were both shocked by static electricity. He laughed quietly and I looked startled, now that I think about it he was probably laughing at me.

"Care to try again," he said.

We reached out again and took each other's hands. His hands were so nice and warm and strong, and it seemed to mold perfectly over mine. We shook, and smiled into each other's faces. Something about his face and his smile drew me in, and in and in. I lost myself in his eyes, and had to shake myself out of it before I did something rash.

I quickly turned my head away, "It is nice to meet you all," I said. I thought I detected a hint of amusement is Devin's face, and was there somthing more. . . "Don't press your luck, you definetely isn't anything there, don't be stupid and get yourself fired before anything even begins." Still. . . I looked back at his face again. It was probably one of the stupidest things I'd done in a long time.

I lost myself in his face again, and almost couldn't pull myself back. She just smiled at me very warmly, very very warmly. "Well, Brittaney knows I am gay and she doesn't mind, so she won't have me fired. I'll just let the word get out and see what happens, it will be his move. Yeah, that's what I'll do." This was one thing I wanted to work out. One thing I hated gone far too long without. Unfortunately, desperation can make anything come out wrong.


Alright everyone, there is the first segment, it was a little longer than most will probably be because I had to get alot of groundwork covered. Hope you enjoy this series, I am putting alot more into this one than I did my first two.

Please tell me what you think, e-mail me at GayNight@hotmail.com

Next: Chapter 2


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