Love Me For A Reason J o n a t h a n A n d r e w Y b a n e z
This is another
installment of LOVE ME FOR A REASON, a story
about boyband BOYZONE MEMBER, RONAN KEATING. I
would like to remind you that this is just a part of the
imagination of the author and none of these events ever happen.
Any similarity between events in the story and situations in
somebody else's life is purely and absolutely coincidental,
accidental or, just simply, impossible. This story doesn't state
anything about RONAN KEATING's sexuality,
implicitly or explicitly. Remember this is just a story based
totally on the imagination of the author.
If you are a minor, you know the rules. Please don't read this and find something more suitable for you age. But if you reach the age of majority, you can come back. If you're a bigot who just wandered here by mistake, you are allowed to stay. I would like to request you, however, to please keep an open mind.
This installment features a short part of the song "PARADISE" by Boyzone. It's part of their second album "A DIFFERENT BEAT". This song was written by Keating, Hedges and Brannigan.
Love Me For A Reason
by: Jonathan Andrew Ybanez
C h a p t e r 3
April 30, 1998: Thursday
After a short 20 minutes drive from the airport, I arrived at my hotel around three in the afternoon. Getting out of the car, I immediately went over to the front desk and asked the clerk about Roger's reservation for our room. Tired and in dire need of rest and a long, hot, relaxing bath, I had to get things done and in order as fast as I possibly could.
As I approached the marble counter, the incredibly cute young front desk clerk greeted me with his prize-winning smile. Even from a distance, I could feel the radiance of his beautiful and sexy grin. He was a tall young man around the tender age of 19 to 23, with straight blond hair. His eyes were the color of the disarming blue. He has a smooth, clean-shaven face and lips of teasingly pinkish red. The stark contrast of his mature navy blue business suit with his pristine, youthful face just added to the total young twink effect.
"Good afternoon, sir!" He continued to beam me his sparkling grin. His rich, deep and booming voice was pure masculinity. "Welcome! How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon, Gavin." I returned him a coquettish smile, as I peered to his nametag. "I am would like to ask about the reservation of Mr. Roger DiEvans. The bookings were made in New York about a month ago."
"Could you wait for a second, sir? Let me check with computer first." Gavin said, gazing into his computer screen. After tapping on the keys for a few minutes, the young clerk returned to me and smiled. "Yes, Mr. DiEvans, your room, the executive suite, is ready for you. You're suite is room 2812. I will send the bellhop for your baggage."
"Actually, I am Charles Erickson." I introduced myself to the front desk clerk. "Mr. DiEvans couldn't quite make it to this vacation, unfortunately."
"So Mr. DiEvans won't be here with you, sir?" He raised an eyebrow with a surprised expression. Studying closely, his eyes narrowed. Slowly again, a charming smile began to break across his face. "And you shall be alone in such a big room?"
"I supposed so,.. I supposed that I shall be alone... this time." I sighed then, flirtatiously, added with a very tantalizing smile. "Unless, someone, someone preferably as cute as you, is going to knock on my door in the middle of the night."
"BUT!" I pointed out then sighed in a mockingly depressed manner. "But that's not going to happen. That's never going to happen. Of that, I'm certain!"
"Don't be too sure, Mr. Erickson." He returned my smile with wicked wink. "Who knows? There might be someone here who would share your lonely nights."
"Is this guy bold or what?" I thought to myself. "Careful, Chip, flaunting yourself can only get you in so much trouble."
When the bellhop came to pick up my luggage, I walked away towards the direction of the elevator. I gave the young man one more strange look and just laughed. I pushed the 'up' button and the doors parted for me to enter. Before I boarded in the elevator, I decided to take another last second look at the young guy at the front desk, whistled at him and, when he lift his head to take a look, I gave him a seductive wink!
If that wasn't a blatant enough invitation then I don't know what!
Roger decided that we have the executive suite, he said that I would love it. We could have gotten the penthouse at the top of the building but, the truth is, Roger has a mild acrophobia. It means living high is just out of the question. I pushed in my card into the security slot and entered the room. Pleasantly surprised at the size of the room, I entered the suite with a renewed vigor, nothing in my room to make me remember the disastrous "Keating" affair.
After having the grand tour of the entire room, I realized the whole suite was composed of four sections. The first one is composed of the lobby, the bathroom and the vanity mirrors, and the walk in closet. The second section is the receiving area, which splits into the third, which the office and library and the fourth and the last section, the boudoir and the fire place.
If Roger were here with me, he would agree with me that our favorite room is the bathroom. It has a very spacious marble tub and a Jacuzzi rolled into one, an exquisitely detailed granite floor and a frosted glass door dividing the extensive shower room from the entire bathroom. What really captured my attention, however, was the beautiful and almost exact replica of ceiling fresco of the Creation of Adam in the Sistine Chapel.
Nevertheless, I couldn't and wouldn't discount the bedroom either. With a king sized, four-poster bed, an elegantly enormous bay window overlooking the beach line, a bouquet of yellow roses on each of the side table and a divine chandelier hanging from the center of the high ceiling, one can certainly get ideas from the scenery. And one must not forget the red-bricked fireplace and a generous bear-skinned rug covering part of marbled floor. Let's just say it could give you some ideas.
But Roger is not with me. What a waste...
"Too bad Roger isn't here." I bit my lip and sighed as I thought. I walked toward to the side table and took a whiff on my favorite flower, the yellow rose. "There could have been oodles of possibilities. What a shame!"
My luggage arrived to the room a few minutes later. After tipping the bellboy, I opened some of my bags and took all of my travel document and valuables and deposited them in the vault. I opened another bag and realized that I brought like a Cathedral's worth of candles. I was planning to have a night of romance with Roger but I see these paraphernalia are totally useless now. Another bag contained my Discman and some compact disc ranging from New Age and Classical to Pop and Easy Listening. I never go on my business trip without my favorite music. They usually help in me by clarifying and expediting my thoughts and ideas.
I opened another bag, and took all clothes out. More than a third of them consisted of business clothes, suits, executive shirts, and silk ties and socks, something that I brought over from my business trip. The rest of the items are for the summer heat, walking shorts, tank tops, swimming trunks and some polo shirts. After putting my clothes away and arranging them immaculately in the walk-in closet, I decided to have a long and hot bath to soothe and relax myself after a horrifying flight. My experience with Ronan Keating makes me what to kill someone, starting with Mr. Keating himself.
"He was cute! YEAH, he sure was cute,... He even sang like an angel. Ohhh, wish I could have him singing to me, with those heavenly vocal chords, that roughish and roguish voice..." I sighed while I was in the tub with a dreamy look on my face. Playing with the foam on my warm tub, I took a handful of frothy bubbles. I punctured them in succession, piercing each soap bubble one at a time. Finding it too long to finish bursting them that way, I simply just blew them all away from the palm of my hand.
"Wouldn't mind if I had someone singing to me when I take a bath or going to bed." I said to myself as I opened the bathtub drain. The water was becoming cold and refilled it by turning on the hot tap.
"I could even still hear the brief nevertheless beautiful excerpt which Ronan had sang back in the plane. What was the title again? 'It's so nice',.. 'Head full of lice',.. 'One cup of rice',.. Uhm,.. 'Three Blind Mice'?.. Wait! That doesn't sound right..." I thought, laughing at my genuine silliness, as I played around with the waterline on the pool of water, running my hand on the surface.
"Well, it's definitely not 'sugar and spice'... or 'Some hamburger and fries'..." Still having that heavenly look at my face, I exclaimed, finally getting the answer. "PARADISE,.. THAT'S IT!" I began humming some of the bars of the song, trying my best to get the right keys to it. "Shit, how did that damned song go again?"
It's not often that you find someone
Who can fulfill all your dreams inside.
It's like an angel from above
She was the one for me believe
But it doesn't wither like a flower in the snow
I always wanted you to know
We're going to build a bridge
Between our hearts
Going to cross the river of love
Into paradise, paradise
Going to walk up the road,
Hand in hand
To the castle in the sky
Where we're gonna live
Gonna live, yeah
"THAT WAS THE SONG!" I burst out ecstatically then I silently sighed... Feeling so lonely, all alone in the gigantic, marble bathtub... Why the hell do I feel so lonely? Damned! I'm so lonely that even Ronan would be good enough for me... not that he wasn't good enough. He's just too much of a fumbler, one major klutz!
"He's one very cute guy, one definitely cute angelic,... uhm,... angel. Why the hell can't I shake him out of my head!" Smiling, I thought of how friendly he was over at the plane, how cute he was when he grinned, how he bared his vampire-like teeth. And how clumsy he was when destroyed my phone and my laptop.
"DAMNED SHIT!!!" Sighing, one more time, loudly and deeply, I might add, and swore audibly. "FUCK! WHY IS IT THE CUTE ONES ARE ALWAYS SOOOOO DUMB!"
After I washed away all the bath foam from my body, I climbed out of the tub. I wiped the excess water off my lithe body and put on the white cotton bathrobe. I, then, proceeded to the walk-in closet and decided what to wear. From my stack of clothes, I picked and pulled out a light yellow tennis shirt, a pair of white walking shorts and a pair of white rubber shoes.
After changing into them, I went down to the lobby bar to have my afternoon snack. Following my light but filling repast of a hot cup of cappuccino and a huge slice of tart fraise at the lobby bar, I approached the concierge's desk. "Excuse me." I called out.
"Yes sir, good afternoon!" An elderly gentleman, with a British accent approached me, gave me a bow and a very bright friendly and jolly smile, his white wavy locks were neatly combed back. "I am Geoffrey Wake, your concierge. How may I be of service, sir?"
"I am Charles Erickson and I am staying Room 2812. Well, for starters, I was wondering where can I find some computer hardware repair shop." I told him. "Some idiot had destroyed my laptop when I was traveling in the plane from Britain."
"Sir, if you could give me the computer equipment, I could find the right person to tinker with it."
"Oh, you would?" I was able to breathe properly now, at least there would be hope that my projects could be saved. "That would certainly be most ideal! Let me get my computer first."
"That's okay, sir." He said smiling. "You could bring your laptop computer anytime at your own convenience."
"It's no hassle at all, in fact, I think now would be the best time. The sooner I could have it fixed, the better."
With lightning speed, I hurriedly went back to my room and grabbed my laptop. Within five minutes, I presented my laptop computer to the concierge. "That's was quick, Mr. Erickson." He laughed heartily. "Ever had plans to join the sprint team, sir?"
"You should realize that this contains most of my works. Just because of one simpleton, my entire life's work could go down the toilet!" I had to smile with him. Lifting my hands in the air as a sign of exasperation, I sighed. "Would you believe that he destroyed my mobile phone, too? Often times, I would be thinking that he was out to assassinate me. Believe me, for my own safety, I wouldn't be riding the same plane with that particularly clumsy idiot ever again."
As I continued chatting with the concierge, I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Excuse me, Geoffrey, my good man, I would like to have an appointment with the best masseur of the house. My feet really hurts after somebody had stepped on it."
"I can't believe it! Mr. Keating, is that you?" The concierge exclaimed, with surprise. "I didn't expect you would be coming here so early, I thought you would be coming here a few days from now! Do you already have a room?"
I rolled my eyes, and muttered. "Of all the places, people, and demons..."
"I am about to go to the front desk for that. I do hope I can still get a room, I heard that almost all of the rooms had been fully booked. Someone told me that there was a conference here of some sort." Ronan still hadn't noticed me.
He, then back away and bumped me. He started to apologize to me as he turned around to face me. "I'm sorry, Mr.,..." He faltered with an expression that could have stopped time, entirely. Groaning, he said. "MR. ERICKSON!!! Oh no!..."
"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE??!!! ANSWER ME!!!" I roared indignantly, sending the concierge to scamper behind his desk. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!! ARE YOU STALKING ME, MR. KEATING??!!!"
"Mr. Erickson, what a pleasant surprise." He said dryly. Then, he lifted up his head and breathed deeply. Silently, he mouthed the words. "...Why, God!..."
"You've met each other before?" The concierge said in strange awe.
"Remember my laptop computer?" I said calmly now, then I pointed to Ronan's direction. "He's that particularly clumsy idiot."
"REMEMBER MY THREAT, MR KEATING?" I, then, turned to Ronan, and I menacingly told him, with a daggered look. "Just keep out of my way, Mr. Keating, and you will live long enough to leave this hotel. Otherwise, you might arrive in Nevis and St. Kitts without your head! DO YOU HEAR ME?"
"Mr. Wake, I was wondering if you can help me on this." Facing the concierge, I asked him nicely. "Do you have any map there that points the places of interest? I believe need to have some fresh air."
"Here's a map, sir." The concierge said as placidly as he could but I could tell that he was trembling inside. "I have encircled the spots worth going to. Hope you will enjoy your walk, sir"
"Maybe I think I should temper down my rage, sooner or later, someone is bound to die of a heart attack." Chuckling, I thought. Then I told the concierge. "I would love to have an Internet connection in my room. Could you do that?"
"Absolutely, sir!" He answered. "I will have a computer send up to your room, you will find it in your office when you returned from your walk. Might I add, sir, that a walk along the waterfront can certainly be therapeutic and can ease any kind of tension."
"Of course, Geoffrey!" I said as I walked away. "Have a nice day."
As I was a good distance away from the concierge's desk, I overheard them talking. Geoffrey hissed in a compressed voice. "What did you do to make him so viciously angry!" I could tell there was dead curiosity in Geoffrey's voice.
"Let's just say I was involved with a string of small accidents leading to the death of his mobile phone and, then, his laptop computer. I don't think he's a particularly bad guy, but he definitely need to work on that explosive anger of his. " Ronan sighed loudly. He said jokingly. " With the height of his rage, he could scare off the wicked witch of the west!"
"You don't think he is such a bad guy?" Snickering, Geoffrey inquired. "You mean this isn't the full summit of his wrath. In my books, this is what I would call, the dark night of the Eumenides."
"He's not too bad." He shrugged. "Would you believe, this is one of his good days."
"NOT TOO BAD??!!! ARE YOU MAD, MAN!!!" He laughed out loud. "HEAVEN HELP ME, IF I EVER SEE THOSE DAYS. Let's just say, Bahamas has never seen a hurricane of that magnitude before!"
Sighing deeply, I couldn't take their insult anymore. I would have returned back to the desk and give them a lashing or two, but I didn't have the strength to put out a fight, or at least for now. So, I postponed my sightseeing trip and decided to vent my anger by a having a stroll along the waterfront. After taking a rather long walk along the humid beach line, my head gradually clear up.
Gaining back my congenial mood, I decided to go back up my room and check my email. Reaching my room, I went over to the minibar and treated myself a bar of Toblerone dark chocolate and grabbed a bottle of Pierre mineral water. Immediately after getting myself a little sweet snack and an added high from the chocolate bar, I went to the office to try out the computer.
I turned it on and connected with the World Wide Web. I opened my mailbox and saw eight emails in my inbox. Seven of them were the same letter coming from my department head, Edward, in New York, congratulating me for a job well done. "Eddy, after all those tutoring and computer session, you still don't know how to send emails, do you!" I chuckled, as I typed down my thank you reply. Then I deleted all of his eight messages. "Why are you such a moron!"
"Hello, what do I have here!" I said as I clicked open the last email. "ROGER!!!"
By now, I would assume you had already hit the beach, got our tan and eyed every single body of the young sun-baked men on the waterfront. I am doing much better now. THE GOOD NEWS: I got approximately a third of my entire workload done already. I know it's not much but you should see the messy figures that I started with. THE BAD NEWS: I still couldn't chase you in the Bahamas. Even if I could, I still don't think I would have the time. I figure that, by the time I'm done with my work, we could just meet back in our apartment.
Isn't it just a doozie? Your phone is down, too. Well, isn't this just a plain déjà vu? Mine is being repaired as we speak, of course charged to our Japanese client (Hey, he insisted! So I caved in. that's savings for me already) So if you want to contact me, your only option is to call me in the office. (Incidentally, would you believe that, ever since you left from London, I still have to see the interior walls of our apartment!) As for your megalomaniac, I hope he doesn't he kills you, hehehe. I still want and need you back here in New York, alive and in one piece.
I missed you too, Chip. It's not that I don't you to be there but it would be a waste of money if you didn't go to Bahamas. At least, I could assume that one of us is enjoying ourselves. Update me on what's happening over there. And if you are able to catch somebody cute enough to eat, let me have the first lick, okay, hehehe.
PS: Here's a dozen roses for you...
@);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'----
@);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'---- @);--,-'----
kiss you because I miss you!
"Roger, I miss you..." I stared blankly and wistfully at the monitor. I knew I was sounding so pathetically melodramatic! And I just hate when I sound like that. I then ordered myself. "Come on, Chip, you can sound better than that. It's bad enough that Roger can't be here. Don't make him feel guilty for not being here, too!"
You wouldn't believe who I ran to meet here in the hotel! It's none other than the megalomaniac himself! Okay let me give you a low down and the 411 on this guy. His name is Ronan Keating and he claims to be one of the lead singers of Boyzone, it's a Irish boyband (BOYBAND??!!! NOW ISN'T THAT JUST IMMATURE FOR YOU??!!! PUKE ME OUT!) Oh, did I mention to you that he had wrecked my phone and my laptop, too? Well, anyway, he does look entirely hot, slightly long dirty blonde hair, very blue eyes, absolutely kissable lips and a utterly sexy Gaelic accent. But, like all blondes, he's so dumb!!!
Now, that I got that out of my system, let me tell you something, there is this very cute twinkish front desk clerk who made suggestive ideas the moment I here. Don't worry, I will lick him for you, given the chance, hehehe. The truth is Roger, I miss you but,... that shouldn't be a reason not to have fun, hehehe (HEY YOU TOLD ME TO HAVE HERE IN THE BAHAMAS) Got to end this mail, I have to hit the beach and maybe see a little bit more of the boys here,... and more, hehehe.
Love you forever,
PS: I still don't have the phone number of your office. Please email me back. And here's one rose for you, lol.
After sending out my
email, I decided to go back and catch some rays. I went over to
the walk in cabinet and took out my beach shorts, a tank top and
my navy Speedos. I grabbed my toiletry bag and retrieved my
suntan lotion. I got my Oakley shades from my bag and got myself
a huge beach towel from the closet. I, then, proceeded to the
bathroom to change for the beach.
While putting my tank top, Speedos and shorts on, I heard my door swung open. A sudden chill ran up my spine. There was a prowler in the lobby. "THERE'S SOMEBODY IN MY ROOM." I froze in the bathroom, as my brain scolded me harshly. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE LIKE ONE FUCKING STATUE. MOVE YOU IDIOT AND DEFEND YOURSELF!!! THERE IS A PSYCHO IN YOUR ROOM!!!"
Scavenging through bathroom and absolutely trying to make the most minimal sound possible, I searched and excavated through the closet for something, or anything, I could use to defend myself. The one thing I could find is a metal clothes hanger, so I grabbed it. It may be just a clothes hanger but, of course, it's better than nothing. Still clutching on to the hanger tightly, I peered outside through the tiny opening of the door and I definitely saw a person's shadow walking around the lobby. He was about five feet ten, wearing a pair of beige chinos and a white T-shirt.
With every ounce of my strength, whatever courage I had left and, of course, the steel clothes hanger in my the tight clutches of my hand, I made a furious and deranged dash to the rather dark lobby screaming my savage battle cry. "YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" I shouted, and pounced on the intruder, giving blows after blows. "TAKE THAT, YOU THIEF, TAKE THAT AND THAT!!! SOMEBODY HELP!!! HELP, I AM UNDER ATTACK BY A THEIF"
"OUCHH!!! HEY, WHAT THE HELL!!!" The young man ducked and ran to the receiving area. There, as he defended himself from my lashing, he grabbed my hand and I saw his face. It was Ronan! What the hell was he doing inside my room!
"MR. CHARLES ERICKSON!" He said, his blue eyes flashed angrily with bewilderment and confusion. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM??!!!"
- - - t o b e c o n t i n u e d - - -
Finally, third round is
over, after a very long hiatus. Fourth round is on the works
right now so it's still basically not yet done. Anyway, as always
I couldn't have done this episode without the continual help,
inspiration and support of my friends, online and on phone.
Tonny, Yuli, Anthony, Marc, Mike, and Francis, you know all of
this couldn't have been created without your motivation and
assistance. This is dedicated to you guys, and this is a
compliment and not an insult, lol.
So if there are any comments, whether good, bad and/ or otherwise, lol. (AND I HOPE THAT IT'S GOOD, LOL) or even some flames, please send it to me okay? At least I will know where I gone wrong. My Email Address is firstname.lastname@example.org. I would really appreciate any comments and suggestion from you!
So until next time, I am still, yours, Jon Andy.