Date: Mon, 22 Mar 2004 11:52:13 -0800 (PST)
From: Ganymede
Subject: Movie Brat Chapter 1

WARNING:

 This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a
man and a MINOR boy. Such descriptions are an integral part
of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient
interests, it is intended to have serious literary value. As
a friend recently said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy.
No one has the right to censor an imagination, or dreams."
With that in mind, know that this story is not true! Further,
it is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors,
but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each other
despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is my
goal to help readers appreciate that love. The sexual acts
described in the story are the result of my imagination. I
have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others
to perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love
offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of
residence, or if you are under the legal age for such
material, do not read further!

By downloading this story:

 "... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of
perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor
and are entitled to have access to material intended for
mature, responsible members of society capable of making
decisions about the content of documents they wish to
read...."

The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A
copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your
enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain.
The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment
for access, or printed and distributed in any form that
requires payment either directly or indirectly.

Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. Reference is also made in context to movies,
characters, and actors that have become part of modern
western culture. No other implication about the true
sexuality of the people mentioned or their private
lives is intended.

All copyrights and trademarks belong to the holders.


Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....



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Movie Brat, by Ganymede



Chapter One.



"... traffic's slowly picking up through downtown. Looking
good out there for all you guys. It's going to be another hot
one today, though. This is the Mix Master, by the way. Hey, I
got a tune here for the worker babes. You're tuned to the
best of the best, Mix-it-up LA. If you're looking for a place
to hang out with the hottest guys in town, go all the way to
106.5, at the top of the dial. Here's Lyle with some more
morning sunshine to make it worth getting out the bed! Man,
I'm slipping away at nine-oh-ten. "



The radio banter ended and the music started just as Will
Sterling III, better known as ''Sil', for 'Silver', which
came from more or less logically from sterling silver, or
maybe from the color of his once-blond hair, pulled into the
parking area of 8349 Sunset Boulevard. 8349 was in the heart
of the American dream factory. The rent was high, 'too
fucking high' as Will all too often complained, but it was
worth every cent for him to be in the 'Strip'. 8349 of Sunset
Strip was close to the hot spots, the Cajun, and Carney's,
and the House of Blues too, if one liked Dan Ackroyd and
could put up with the crowds and all that sheet metal. The
Argyle was conveniently just down the street for out of town
visitors, and just a little further was the Mondrian and the
Sky Room. He'd never been to Johnny Depp's Viper Room, even
though he used to dream about fucking the Phoenix, at least
before the kid grew up and found fame. The Bird overdosed
there, a bummer for boylovers if ever there was one. Too many
bad memories was why he never went.



There were lots of advantages in being near the studios of
Hollywood, not the least being it was reasonably close to
Will's home in Brentwood Hills. He always enjoyed the
morning drive down from his house in the foothills of the
Santa Monica Mountains. It was also close to Beverly Hills,
which was in a word, 'nice', and not only because of the
beautiful mansions and manicured lawns. Half the producers,
directors, and big name actors lived there. Will didn't have
all that far to drive when his masters called.

There was only one disadvantage, as Will switched off play
time and got into work mode. That was 8349 Sunset Strip being
on the north side of the street. The sun fried the creamy-
brown leather upholstery of his Ferrari, a 1994 512 M.
Privately, he called it his 'boy-car', because boys liked
it. Loved it, even. They stared at it. It was red, of course,
with the Testarossa engine-cooling strakes slicing down the
sides. The mid-mounted 440 horsepower flat-12 always
present. The boxer engine went all the way back to the 312 T
of Formula 1 Grand Prix racing in 1975, and it only got
better over time. There was always more that a passing glance
when the car went past a boy in second gear. The gurgle-and-
bellow exhaust sound was enough to do that. Hot-blooded
Californian boys. Will loved them almost as much as they
loved themselves. Some of them probably got hard even before
they got into the low-slung passenger seat. The boys who
weren't so easily aroused, usually became erect in seconds
with the rush of adrenaline that occurred when he put his
foot down on the accelerator. The car was worth every penny
of the $150,000 he'd paid a few years earlier. His Hummer H2
usually sat in the car port collecting bird shit because the
Ferrari was a lot more fun to drive.



There was only one problem with the Ferrari 512. The car was
too cramped to go all the way with a boy, but that was seldom
all that important. If Will thought there was a chance of
having some sex in the car, he took the Hummer, otherwise
not. If if turned out that a boy was interested, there was
more than enough room in the coupe to get his pants down and
play with his dick for a while. Doing more than that was
difficult if not damn near impossible, and not because the
sports car offered little privacy. There was always
something that got in the way. Since he'd owned his 'boy-car'
he'd picked up half a dozen under-twelves who did a lot more
than let him play with their dicks. However, only one of them
had stayed around for more than a few days. The thought gave
him cause to smile. If anyone realized how eleven-year-old
Draven Edison managed to land the role of Adam Drake in "The
Mask of Robert McDonagh", all hell would break loose.



Will placed the sunshield over the dash, still thinking
about boys. Boys. He could fuck boys until the day he died.
Tight little asses that grabbed onto his cock and wouldn't
let go. He brushed his windswept, nearly white hair back. He
picked up a leather folder from between the seats, where it
was less likely to be buffeted by the wind, and made a bee-
line for the door.



His first client of the day was waiting when he arrived. Will
was always fifteen minutes late in the morning. The first
client usually ended up with 45 minutes of a one-hour meeting
that was supposed to begin at 9.00 sharp. On the way into his
office he picked up another cup of coffee from his
secretary's desk, his fourth of the day, so far.



He took a quick look through the file to refresh his memory.
The kid's name was Dyani. He was a cutie too. Will had given
him more than a passing glance in the waiting room. At that
time in the morning there was only boy there, so it had to be
him. Doll-face boy. The boy made good eye contact right from
the start. Will liked that in a boy. It showed confidence and
a desire to succeed in life. However, his first impression
was more than that. The boy had big dark eyes. Not somber
eyes like some kids who thought they could make it big with
sadness, or innocent blue angel-eyes that most movie kids
had. The big eyes were sexy instead. What did they call that
look? Smoldering? Smoldering with passion? Dark behind his
eyes too, like he'd been bruised, hung-over, or makeup had
been used, but wasn't. It was naturally that way and it only
added to his allure. A man could only wish there were boys
more like him.

But other than that at-first-glance good impression, the boy
was just like any of the hundred or so aspiring boys aged
between nine and eleven years old who passed through Will
Sterling's office every year. Most of them were on the
freeway to nowhere. He saw upwards of a thousand children a
year, most of them boys, all wanna-be actors, half of them
without much talent, some as young as four or five with pushy
moms. They started young because that was the way it had to
be to get ahead. Unless he played hard ball, Dyani would be
lucky to pick up a few commercials before he turned his
boyish charm in for teenage acne.

Dyani? He smiled, thinking 'what's in a name'? Who would call
a kid that? Dyani? What the hell did Dyani mean? It had to
come from somewhere. A special meaning. There was no other
reason for it. Too cute for it to be invented. It had to be
in the kid's file somewhere.

Will was looking through Dyani's background material when
Joan brought the two of them in and sat them down in chrome
and leather chairs. Joan, the 'jelly-roll' he called her
behind her back, was pleasantly fat, but she was very
efficient, and she'd been with him for ages. Besides, it
wasn't like he needed a pretty woman outside his door. There
were enough dime-a-dozen entrancing faces in the front
office for that. What he needed was discretion and
competence.

He didn't look up until he finished reading. Dyani was a
native American word meaning 'deer.' Well, fuck! Who in
their right mind would name a kid 'deer'? The kid wasn't even
native American. Pretty face, though, he thought for the
third time in a minute. Real pretty. Downright beautiful in
fact. Too beautiful to have dumb-ass parents. His father was
a school teacher. That was a dead-end profession if ever
there was one. A couple of siblings. The mother was a
housewife because there was no profession shown. Probably
spent her life running him around to acting lessons.

 He sneaked a glance. Mother and son, aspiring actor and
pain-in-the-ass mother were waiting patiently. The kid's
eyes went right through him. Smoldering? Jesus, that was an
understatement. Alluring? Yes, that too. And those lips?
Fucking lascivious! The kid was seething with sexuality.
They stared at each other like soul mates connecting for the
first time. How old was he? He had to look at the file again
to make sure. Ten! Will Sterling licked his very dry lips.
Ten-year-old boys were at the peak of desirability for him.
Fucking hottie, he thought to himself!

"Dyani, am I saying it right?" Will began with his usual
unfazed-by-a-beautiful-boy confidence. Dyani's head twitched
nervously. That was a 'yes', probably. "It's nice to meet
you. I'm Will Sterling."

He always tried to talk to the child first, especially if the
child was a boy. Boys always received special attention. He
noted the boy's shyness. They were almost always shy at
first. The ones who weren't shy were usually too full of
themselves. He didn't like over-confident kids. They were
usually the last ones interested in playing by the rules.

"Or you can call me 'Sil' if you like. Most of my friends
do," he added."

 He didn't add that most of the boys who called him 'Sil'
ended up on their backs with their knees pulled up to their
shoulders. In his opinion, there was nothing better than
plugging a tight little anus and feeling the melting-point
heat of a juvenile sphincter gripping his shaft. He better
not start thinking about little Draven Edison again. Damn
but that boy was tight, stayed tight too, right up to the
end. If he was religious, he would have thanked God. And the
best thing of all? The boy sitting across the table from him
was even cuter than Draven. Sexier too, if that was possible.

 "And Mrs.... Er,..."

He had to look down at the file again, just to be certain.
There it was in highlighted fluorescent blue so he wouldn't
miss it. Cynthia Deere. Christ! So that would make the boy's
name Dyani Deere! Was it someone's idea of a joke? 'Deer'
Deere. But it was nice, sweet, endearing, just right for the
kid too. It probably wouldn't work in Hollywood. He'd have to
think about that, but ninety nine out of a hundred of his
clients changed their names in some way or other before they
auditioned anyway. He could almost hear himself whispering
it in the boy's petit ear just before he swabbed it with his
tongue. 'Dear Dyani Deere'. He smiled. He couldn't help it.
The cute kid had cute little ears that were close to his
head. He didn't like ears that were too large, or worse, ears
that protruded out like plane flaps. He had a button nose
too, perfectly suited for Eskimo games.

"Mrs. Deere, I'm so sorry. I'm running a bit late this
morning."

He thought about saying that his car wouldn't start. Older
Ferraris could be a bitch like that. Not the newer ones. His
car fired up immediately. On more than one occasion he was
glad it started with the first turn of the ignition key. Just
six months earlier, he had been nearly caught when he hadn't
noticed a police cruiser approaching his parked-in-the-park
car. The consequences of being caught with a half-naked
seven-year-old boy in his car didn't bear thinking about.
Connor Hewer's mother had no idea how close disaster had come
to her little son's precious acting career.

"Needless to say, I'm very pleased to meet you too," he
added.

He tried to sound sincere. The woman looked like the mothers
of most of his clients. Pretty with too much make up. It made
for a theatrical quality that more than likely stemmed from
wanting to be an actress or model herself, and not being able
to. Most of the mothers were like that. They wanted to live
the good life with a house in Bel-Air or Beverly Hills paid
for by their successful offspring. Women like that were
always pushy, sometimes obnoxiously so. They lived
vicariously through their children. However, with a little
push in the right direction, a parent's greed and
frustration could be used to their mutual advantage.

With the immediate formality of names and introductions out
of the way, he eased up from his Aeron chair and leaned over
his desk, extending his hand. Only in special cases did he
make the trip around the desk by foot. This time he would
have, because the kid was worth a close-up inspection, but
his erect cock would have been obvious. Her hand was cold and
hard. By contrast, the boy's hand was silky soft and hot. He
was fine-boned like his mother, but there was something
else. Those too-beautiful-for-a-boy eyes for one thing.
Sultry eyes. He held the boy's hand for a moment too long.
The boy's eyes flickered up hesitantly to share his gaze.
Another look exchanged, lust simmering, engaging desires
that shouldn't have been there at the first meeting, but
were.

"I'm glad you could see us at such short notice, Mr.
Sterling."

Will quickly released the boy's hand and turned to his
mother. "Pardon?"

"I'm glad you could see us at such short notice."

"Oh, no problemo," Will said guiltily, turning his attention
away from where it really wanted to be. "We had to move
things around anyway. Jeff Phillips's mom,... he's one of my
clients by the way. She was supposed to meet with me about
his next audition, but it turned out that he's in Barbados
doing an on-location shoot this week."

Had she noticed the bulge in his trousers, the way he
couldn't stop staring at the boy? Her son had more presence
than a lot of kids who had been working in Hollywood for
years. Talk about attention-grabbing looks. There was just
the slightest hint of a smile on her otherwise luscious ruby-
red lips that suggested she was thinking about something
besides the weather. Again, he risked a glance at Dyani, just
to make sure. Make sure of what? He was still there? The boy
had the same full lips as his mother, but his mouth was
smaller so his lips were even more inviting to be kissed. A
small mouth and big dark eyes. It was an irresistible
combination for a man like Will Sterling. He rubbed his
fingers into the palm of his hand as he sat back down. He
could still feel the boy's lingering warmth, the slight
sweatiness of someone who was nervous. The mother continued
to give him the same discerning study as he shuffled the file
pages uncomfortably. Noting a few of the family details. A
nine-year-old sister  who went by the name of Eleni. A
younger brother, seven-year-old Kalani. The family liked
names that ended in 'i'? He glanced up apprehensively.

"Would you like some coffee, Mrs. Deere?"

"No thank you."

"How about you, Dyani? Coffee? Tea? Maybe a Coke? How about a
glass of water? I'd offer you a beer but your mom might get
upset."

Every time he suggested something new, the boy's eyes
crinkled with growing mirth. The kid had a sense of humor.
Bonus points for that, because he would need it if he
continued on. Dyani smiled and shook his head at the offer of
water. Will could charm the boxers off a boy, especially when
he had Dyani's lips. Full, red lips. Lips that were ready and
willing to kiss if they got the right opportunity. Soft,
sweet lips. The lips of a cock sucker. Dream on. Dream of
those pretty-boy lips stretched around a man's thick hard
cock, kneeling, looking up to see if he was doing it right.

Will pushed his chair forward so his now-aching erection was
hidden by the leather pad that covered the center of the
glass-topped table. It was time to get down to business even
though concentration was impossible with the boy sitting so
close. Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous boy.

"You've just turned ten, I see Dyani. May 17, hm,... So it's
been what, five days since your birthday? Would you like a
handful of jelly beans to celebrate?"

There was a cut-crystal glass jar full of multi-colored
jelly beans on his desk. He kept them there especially for
his clients. For fun, he'd stuck a couple of jelly beans up
Draven's ass one time. They laughed until they cried about
that. He managed to suck them out despite Draven's efforts to
stop him. It was the strangest sensation when they popped
into his mouth. Hot, like little hard turds. Then, he tongued
the kid out for nearly half an hour.

"Take as many as you want," he offered. "Especially the black
ones. I hate them. Always have!  They always remind me of
taking medicine when I was a kid. Do you like black ones?"

It was a game he enjoyed playing with the boys, much like
tennis or ping pong, going back and forth until the boy
laughed. The boy's head twitched again in a negative
response. His eyes demurred, which was vaguely reassuring.
Some shyness could be a good thing, especially after coming
on so brazenly with the 'fuck me look'. Will smiled at him
reassuringly, still perusing the pages before him. There was
the usual preparation of acting classes and several years of
taking private lessons for voice, diction, and
improvisation. Some movement classes, which might even be
useful since they included a year of jazz ballet. Most kids
were clumsy without proper training.

Will shifted his gaze to the side so that he could see
through the glass top of the table. It was more than an inch
thick, but there was very little distortion. The boy was
wearing ubiquitous khaki pants with a dozen pockets and a
forest green polo shirt. Deadly dull. Boring. Not even a
bulge among the creases. No shape at all. Pity, he liked boys
with a nice bulge. Nothing too large, of course. Ideally, it
would be just big enough to convey the 'b' in 'boy'. Will's
imagination went to work nonetheless. A tight little Speedo
in bright red. No, black would be better. Then it would match
his dark hair. He'd look great in ballet tights as well, but
much better with nothing on at all. Will mused for a few more
moments before going back to the file.

Again, when he glanced up, there was a curious expression on
the mother's face. Had she noticed where he had been looking?
He'd have to be more careful where his eyes strayed, at least
until he knew what he was up against. Parents blew the
pedophile thing way out of proportion nowadays. Too much
media attention given to something that really wasn't all
that prevalent, because society had to have something to
hate. No one cared about misconceptions of child abuse, or
they didn't want to believe that the boys were usually as
interested as the men. Except among a certain very select
group of his business associates, and then it was to be
expected because they knew better.

He had almost reached the end of the boy's paltry
accomplishments. He was pleased to see that Dyani had spent
the last six months being coached on auditioning techniques
and how to impress casting directors. It was a pity that the
people doing the coaching didn't appreciate what the
children really needed to learn in order to get work in
Hollywood. He almost smirked, thinking of what else would be
taught, like training a kid in how to suck cock.

All told, Dyani's resume showed a background that was more or
less the standard fare for the I-want-to-be-a-movie-star
child. He examined the bulleted points under 'Experience'.
There was a modeling assignment or two for J.C.P. and another
for Gap Kids, but they were expected, dime-a-dozen, pocket
money jobs, nothing more. He had some community theater
experience with parts in a couple of plays, but nothing out
of the ordinary as far as Will could see. A commercial for a
regional chain, Toys to Gro On, was his only film work,
although the boy's demeanor in the office suggested that he
would probably  portray well in front of a camera. Scanning
further, looking for the magic details that said 'future
actor'. He was ranked second for a pilot for a locally made
sitcom that never got off the ground. That was right before
the community theater work, which ended in April. And then
nothing. Judging from the address and date on the cover
letter, apparently the family moved to Los Angeles only a few
days previously. More than likely it was a move that was
intended to pursue Dyani's acting career. Join the queue, by
all means, but just remember that it was one hell of a long
line to get an audition.

"You haven't had much camera experience recently, have you
Dyani?" Will asked bluntly.

Dyani's legs swung back and he leaned forward. "No Sir."

"You did a spot on Talent Time just last week, honey," Mrs.
Deere interjected.

Talent Time, whatever it was, had yet to make it onto the
resume. Or maybe, it had been deliberately left off.

"Mom," Dyani growled. He shifted in his seat. "That doesn't
count. He means like being in real movies."

"Of course it counts, sweetie. Everything counts when you're
starting out. Isn't that right, Mr. Sterling."

Will smiled. "Tell me about Talent Time, Dyani?"

"It's just a dumb cable show for kids, Sir. It's on
Indianapolis public TV on the weekends," Dyani muttered. His
nervousness increased as he continued to meet Will's gaze.
"I read some of The Client. I did okay."

"You acted it as well, dear. And you did the reading very
nicely too. The judges said you did a wonderful job, even if
you didn't win."

"The Client, huh? It was a good script for Renfro," Will
remarked.

"He was better as Huck Finn."

Will leaned back in his seat, holding the boy's attention
captive. He liked the voice. Sweet. Soft. A little girlish in
the diction. Good intonation. Some inflection. He had
control. The shyness seemed to fluctuate. Very interesting.
He liked variety. A man could get bored otherwise.

 "He was a nobody before that movie, you know. Like you." The
boy flinched. No one liked the truth. Will didn't stop there.
"He was eleven when they shot it. Do you think you could do
as well in a year from now?"

Dyani shrugged. "I'm working on it, Sir."

"Good answer." Will nodded. "What part of The Client did you
read?"

"Where Mark is hiring Reggie as his attorney for a buck, Sir.
The mix of anger and fear stuff is pretty contrived, but it
works."

Will nodded. Contrived? It appeared that shy little Dyani
Deere had plenty of self-confidence in reserve, and more
than enough intelligence to see him through. Not many boys
his age would know the word, 'contrived'. But he wasn't
precocious either, and that was better still.

"What sort of work would you like to do?"

Dyani gave a nervous shrug. Will would very much have liked
to get him alone and see the same shrug without clothes on.
Pert little face, skinny bare body, impudence and
inhibition. It was an interesting mix for an actor. Plus,
very sexy.

"I'd like him to do what he's best at," Mrs. Deere answered
for him. "He's a natural actor and he's wonderful before a
camera." It was tantamount to saying 'my son is going to be a
movie star'.

"What do you want on your slate, Dyani?" Will asked directly.

He paid the mother very little attention, but he still gave a
nod in her direction. In a way, it was her interview too. He
was very selective in who he worked with. The wrong mother
was deadly even if her kid could act. By then he was looking
directly at the boy, meeting his steady gaze.

"I don't know, Sir. I guess I like doing parts where I have
to get into someone else's head and figure out what they
would do. When I was doing the theater work in Indianapolis,
the director just wanted me to be myself. That was okay, but
it wasn't much of a challenge. I like acting a lot. Mood
stuff is the greatest because you have to work at it to get
it right."

"Tell me about the work you did for,..." Will glanced at the
page on the desk. "The Indianapolis Community Theater?"

"It was a couple of plays, Sir. The last one I did was
'Finding Peter.' I played Peter. It ran for two weeks. I
think we did ten shows."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one, Dyani. Could you
tell me what's it about?"

"Um,..." Dyani's eyes moved to his mother. He looked
uncomfortable.

"It's about a sexually abused boy, Mr. Sterling," Mrs. Deere
explained with a soft voice. However, like most people, she
was less than comfortable talking about it. "You mostly see
Peter right at the beginning when he's alone and crying in
his bedroom. The play is really about the family trauma that
occurs when the abuse is discovered."

Dyani suddenly glanced at Will. Again, their eyes connected.
Dark eyes, dark eyelids, like he used mascara or stayed up
late. Doe eyes! It was a nickname that would probably stick
if someone used it to describe him. Either that or Hot Lips!
The kid was born and bred for kissing.

"What did you like most about it?" Will asked.

"I guess because you didn't know what really happened to
Peter. See, the uncle who did it is always seen with his back
to the audience," Dyani added quietly. "You're supposed to
think he's ashamed, but it's like he's still talking with
Peter who's offstage." He blinked, edging back into his
seat. He left the obvious implication unseated.

Will nodded. Until then, he had been thinking that it wasn't
the sort of play that he would want to see.

"So, the director wanted you to play yourself?" Will asked
pointedly.

He could see why Dyani had been chosen for the part, of
course. The boy's latent homosexuality would have made him
perfect for the part of a willing victim. A boy didn't have
alluring eyes like Dyani and not have potential leanings in
that direction.

"Yes, Sir." Again, there was another of his patented nervous
twitches, an ambiguous shrug that might have meant something
if Will understood his body language.

"He did a wonderful job," Mrs. Deere interjected.

"I'm sure he did," Will agreed. "Of course, acting on stage
and being in front of a camera are two very different
things."

"He's done that too," she countered. "There was a fabulous
part for him in a pilot for a family show they were going to
make in Indianapolis, but they couldn't find a sponsor. His
screen test went very well. Oh, and he did a commercial for
Toys Are Us."

"Mom!" Dyani interrupted. He sounded exasperated. "It wasn't
Toys Are Us, Mr. Sterling. It was Toys To Gro On." He turned
back to look at Will. He was probably used to correcting his
mother's exaggeration with his own version of events. "And
as for the pilot, I was ranked second choice, Sir. I wasn't
right for the part. They said they wanted a kid with a
different look."

Will nodded understandingly. Dyani didn't have to explain
what that look was. The fad of the last few years in sitcoms
was to cast character kids, not boys with Adonis-good-looks.
Character kids were kids with flaws; freckles, frizzy red
hair, overweight, mixed race, unattractive, but unusual.
They were supposed to be average. The JTTs and David
Gallaghers of the world were getting pushed to the side by
the media's rush to politically correct mediocrity and what
Will considered to be 'boring' boys.

It was time for him to come to the point.

"Mrs. Deere, do you mind if I call you Cynthia?"

Cynthia nodded and smiled. She straightened up attentively
sitting forward on the edge of her seat like her son.

"Let me cut to the chase, if I may. I'm going to be very
honest with you and Dyani. Unless I'm mistaken, you've
recently moved to L.A. with the goal of being able to get him
your son into movies. While he could probably fly in and
audition and still live in Indianapolis, you believe that
the chances are better if you lived here?"

Cynthia nodded. "There's just Dy and me here, Mr. Sterling.
For the present time anyway. My husband is in Indianapolis
with our other two kids," she explained. "If it doesn't work
out in four months, we'll move back. At least that's the plan
right now. Basically, we have until the end of summer."

"Cynthia, there are thousands of kids and their families
living in Los Angeles with the same goal as you have for your
son. Getting even a small part in a movie, I mean something
more than a set walk-on, is next to impossible. It can take
years of work. It's a cut-throat world in Hollywood. I know
of any number of very talented kids who haven't done as much
film work as Dyani since they've been here, and their
families have given it everything they have."

"I know that. Dyani's drama teacher told me the same thing.
But if we don't try, we'll never know. Isn't that right,
sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom."

Will made eye contact again with the 'sweetie' across from
him. His resolve, if he ever possessed any when it came to
beautiful boys, melted before those magnetic, sensuous eyes.
If any boy could succeed in the fierce competition of
Hollywood, it would be Dyani Deere. All he had to do was use
his natural charm, and his body, of course. That was how most
actors, even the kid-actors, especially the kid-actors, made
it from the bottom to the top of the pile.

"We've spent every dime we have to get Dyani ready," Cynthia
continued.

Despite what she had heard from others, she was still
enthusiastic. Her husband said that she was unrealistic and
too caught up in herself to do what was in Dyani's best
interests, which was for him to get a good education. She
lived in a fantasy world. That was usual. Every parent who
entered Will Sterling's office was starry-eyed. More often
than not it was the kids who were down to earth, or they
became pragmatic after a few months of constant rejection.
They either gave up or paid the price.

"I expect you have," Will agreed. "Private lessons are very
expensive. It doesn't matter if they're in Indianapolis or
in L.A. Living here, well it's essential, but it's a lot more
than most people can afford." He shook his head. "Your
expenses so far are just the tip of the iceberg, Cynthia."

He thumbed through the file again until he found what he
wanted. The head-shots of Dyani were professionally taken,
but inconsequential. They certainly didn't do the boy's
exceptionally good looks justice. There was no character.
Nothing that might interest a scout. Nothing to entice a
director or a casting scout.

"These are a good example," he said, holding up the glossy 8"
by 10" photos by the corner. "For starters, they'll have to
re-done. I expect you paid a lot of money for them?" His
intonation implied the question did not need to be answered
unless she wanted to divulge how much she had wasted.

"Two thousand dollars," Cynthia answered. "We had them done
just before we left Indianapolis. I thought it would be
cheaper to get them done there. Everyone know L.A.'s
expensive for just about everything. "

"I imagine so," Will said. He dropped the photographs on the
desk. "I'll be honest with you. These photos of your son
wouldn't get him an audition, let alone in the door of a
studio. He's a very handsome young man, but in these, I hate
to say it but he's just ordinary." That was an exaggeration,
but it drove the point home. "To do them properly, the
average cost for a half-day photo shoot with a top-of-the-
line photographer will run about five times what you spent in
Indianapolis."

"Ten thousand dollars?" Her disbelief was very obvious.

"If you include the expenses for some outdoor shots, it might
be as much as twelve. There'd be a full work portfolio of
course. Probably thirty or forty pictures of him selected
out of several hundred negatives. The purpose of the
portfolio is to develop his character possibilities. It's
the first thing that casting looks for. The photographer
would try to show Dyani as he is, then give some takes on his
options. The idea is to show the range of what he's capable
of."

"It's just so much money."

"Yes it is, Cynthia, and it's only just started. Ideally,
he'll have a video to go along with it to show his movement
and speech. That will run another ten thousand, and much more
than that if you want to use a sound stage. He has a good
voice. It would be a pity not to take advantage of it. He
might even get some voiceovers because of it. Once the video
and the portfolio are finished, we'll be able to start
working on getting him an audition. I'll pick up most of the
expenses from that point."

Cynthia nodded. She had expected some additional expenses,
but twenty thousand dollars before Dyani even auditioned a
single time?

"Then, there's the matter of my fee, Cynthia," Will
continued. "The industry standard for most agents is a five
thousand dollar retainer plus 10 percent of whatever he
makes. The retainer is intended for kids who are doing
commercials and modeling."

"How much is it for movie agents, Mr. Sterling?" Dyani asked
apprehensively .

"The percentage is the same, but the amount up front is
usually about ten thousand. SAG limits set the percentage. I
charge twenty thousand as a retainer and twenty percent of
whatever you make, Dyani," Will replied frankly. "It's an
additional ten percent so you'll have to be non-union for
that to happen, but I'll also get you better contracts to
start of with."

Dyani's mouth dropped open. So did his mother's.

"That much?" she finally managed to say.

Will simply nodded. Most parents were shocked when he
explained how much the typical costs were, and then revealed
what he charged on top of it. Some never came back for a
second meeting. Most managed to scrape together the money to
get their sons and daughters started into a Hollywood
career, even if most of them only lasted for a year or two
before they gave up or were no longer getting work.

"That's forty thousand bucks, Mom," Dyani said quietly.

"Yes. That's about right for a portfolio, video and
retainer," Will said as he watched the boy digest reality. It
was difficult to swallow.

"I don't have that much." Cynthia sighed and turned to her
son. "I could ask your father, I suppose, but you know the
answer as well as I do."

Dyani quickly shook his head. It was very apparent that there
were martial problems in the Deere family.

"He's very a talented boy, Mr. Sterling. Isn't there some way
that you could reduce the retainer, or we could pay it later
when he gets some work?"

She knew the answer even though Will didn't respond. She took
a deep breath and sighed again.

"The problem is that we'll only have a total thirty thousand,
well twenty eight actually, to get us through the summer. My
husband hasn't sent it yet, but he will by Friday. I have to
open a bank account you see."

"Cynthia, I'm not the only agent in Hollywood,...." Will
began.

"Mr. Sterling, we're here because everyone says you're the
best in L.A. when it comes to getting movie roles for boys."

"Well, like most agents I do tend to specialize. I suppose
success breeds success. I must admit over the years I've been
very successful in placing boys in films. If anyone can get
Dyani the right auditions it's probably me," Will said.

He didn't care if he sounded over-confident. Confidence went
with the job of agent. If they wanted names of clients he
could provide them, dozens of them.

"Yes, I know," Cynthia said quietly.

"Cynthia, Dyani, I really don't mean to be throw cold water
on your dreams, but I have to tell you the truth. Let's
imagine for the moment that you can find the money to get the
portfolio and the rest of it together, okay?"

Cynthia nodded. Dyani managed another twitch of his head.
Still, he did manage to meet Will's gaze yet again. There was
a flicker of apprehension in his ardent eyes.

"Dyani can expect to find at least a hundred other boys at
each of his auditions. Those are the boys who made the first
and second cuts. They basically have what it takes so there
won't be much to chose between them. Ultimately, it will come
down to the casting director and who interests him the most.
Of the hundred or so who audition for a part, only five or
six will be seen by the movie's director. He may have two or
three of them do screen tests."

"I didn't expect it to be easy," Cynthia said. "He just needs
one big break, that's all."

"Most of my clients' families are struggling while they wait
for the "big break", Cynthia. Everything you've heard about
Hollywood is painfully all too true. Rejection occurs again
and again, regardless of talent. My point is this. First
without the portfolio and video Dyani doesn't get in the door
in the first place. Second, even if he does make it to an
audition, the chance is less than one in a hundred he'll be
the boy selected for the part. The odds are far worse for a
big-budget film. For something like,... well like Harry
Potter for instance, it was limited to England, but a lot of
times it's a world wide search. And even if he gets a part,
until he's made a name for himself, he'll be paid standard
rates. Those are pretty much cast in concrete by the Screen
Actors Guild. There are only a few of my clients who are
making seven-figure incomes."

"And Dyani will soon be one of them," Cynthia said boldly.
"All he needs is a chance to prove himself."

"I expect you're counting on that to make ends meet, but
don't forget that almost all of what he will make will have
to go into a Coogan Account. You'll get something for his
expenses, and the studios will generally try to help out in
needy cases, but it 's still a difficult situation
sometimes. One of the ways to get around the Coogan Act is to
home school him. That way, you can have a full-time job as
his tutor, but what you get paid will still be rather minimal
compared to what he'll rake in."

"What about the rest of your clients, Mr. Sterling? The ones
who don't get the seven-figure incomes?"

 "The rest? Well, let's just say that I know of some families
who are sharing an apartment on the south side. They really
need to forget about making it, but the Hollywood dream is a
hard one to give up, especially when you have a lot
invested."

Will hesitated. The look of disappointment on Dyani's face
was almost unsettling. However, he was used to seeing kids
crumble when they were faced with reality.

"Which reminds me, is he a member of SAG?"

"Not yet. It was mentioned when we lived in Indianapolis,"
Cynthia said uncertainly. "But it wasn't necessary because
he only had parts in plays then."

"Well, the initial cost is $1,350, plus $100 for the first
six months. He'll pay an additional 1.85 percent on a SAG
contract up to two hundred thousand."

She licked her lips and gave a weak smile. "Well, that's
about what I was told. So  we do have money set aside for
that at least."

She did not need to explain that it was part of their funds
of $28,000.

"My advice is to sign him up for six months to get him
started, and then once he's made a name for himself, or he
lands a big contract, he'll go non-union. It's a lot easier
that way. Okay, let me lay out the rest of it. The next
question is does Dyani have what it takes. I'm talking about
patience and total commitment. He's going to need an
abundance of "passion to play," as Shakespeare called it."

"Dyani has a great deal of all of that, Mr. Sterling,"
Cynthia interjected.

"Good, because he's going to have to work long hours and
travel for weeks at a time to location shoots. He'll spend
all his free time practicing. A lot of directors are going to
expect a flawless performance regardless of him being ten
years old. They don't want to shoot a scene a dozen times.
Getting ready for a part requires tedious memorizing of
lines and repetition. Oh, and he needs stamina because he's
going to spend hour after hour under hot lights, wearing
costume and make-up. The schedules are long and irregular,
and depending on the set, it might involve him working in
adverse weather and living conditions that are simply
unpleasant. He may have to take special programs to prepare
him for certain roles, everything from karate to
skateboarding. I've got a client right at this moment in
Arizona learning how to ride a horse in desert sand of all
things."

He waited for them to ask who it was. He would have liked to
tell them who he was talking about. The movie, about the
Roman Emperor, Hadrian, would probably be a blockbuster.

"For the rest of the time, Dyani will be taking regular
school classes and doing homework. On top of that both of you
will face the constant anxiety of intermittent work and
rejections, even when he's ideal for the part."

 "I'm up for it," Dyani said brightly.

Will chuckled. The boy had a sense of humor even if his
mother didn't. He could easily get to like Dyani Deere.

"Somehow I knew you'd say that." Will turned to Cynthia.
"Success in this business is a combination of talent and
training, thrown in with the right "look", lots of energy, a
positive attitude, and one completely uncontrollable factor
."

"Luck!" Dyani said enthusiastically.

"Absolutely right. Lots of luck." Will agreed.

Still, there was more to it than luck. He paused a moment and
then he played his trump card.

"And on top of it all,... I have to say this. I hope you
don't mind, but honesty is not something you'll find a lot of
in Hollywood...."

He stopped. Took a deep breath. Got ready to drop the parent-
bomb.

"He can expect other actors and some of the crew to be
constantly trying to get into his pants. I'm not
exaggerating about this. It's a fact of life in Hollywood. It
seems to attract weird people. You'll need to watch him like
a hawk because of it. Sure there are on-set teachers and
people from SAG who are supposed to keep an eye on him, but
mostly they're interested in how he's being affected by the
work, not who's trying to seduce him."

He watched both mother and son in order to gauge their
response. He'd dropped that bomb with the intention of
seeing if they were down-to-earth realists. There was no
discernible reaction. It was almost as if they had been
waiting for him to say it. He pressed the point home. Heat-
seeking missile targeted in on child abuse to gauge the
reaction.

"To be perfectly honest with you, Cynthia, I don't think
you'll find a successful child actor who's still a virgin
after a year or two. That goes for the boys as well as the
girls."

Finally, Cynthia Deere swallowed. A gulp of air. Her hands
were clasped tightly. She was visibly tense.

 "Is that how they get work?" she asked boldly.

He had not expected her to say that. Most parents were
appalled. He had seen a few get up and leave. They had
arrived at the most important issue.

"Some of the time," Will answered. He almost said 'most of
the time'. Most people didn't want to hear the truth when it
concerned their children.

The more that Will looked at Dyani, the more he thought about
little Connor, with an 'o' not an 'e'., Hewer, was his last
name. Even though physically they were nothing alike they
still had a lot in common. Connor was all of seven years old
when he started his acting career. He was a charming boy with
an abundance of character. He was destined for success from
the outset even if he wasn't much of an actor. He was small
for his age, with straight red hair and ears that stuck out
like Dumbo. He was a clear candidate for otoplasty, yet the
kid more than made up for it with other qualities like
appealing eyes and a raspy voice. The casting directors
loved his ever ready smile. He had an infectious
personality, and he was always ready to tease. It was
impossible not to like Connor Hewer. And the icing on the
cake? He was willing to play around. Shameless gay boy. Even
at seven years old, Connor was ready to `play around'. That
was what his open-minded mother called it at their first
meeting with Will. He could still remember her exact words.
She wasn't `averse to Connor playing around if it would make
the difference.'

The fact was there were a lot of men who liked boys as young
as seven. Even Will took advantage of the opportunity to find
out for himself what the attraction to younger boys was
about. He would have been a fool not to.

When it came to anal sex, it was a different matter. His
progressive ex-hippie mother was adamant that the men who he
came in contact with would have to wait until her son was
older, a few years at least for that. Connor was still too
small to go all the way. Will wasn't particularly attracted
to the kid, but he knew several other men who were, including
the producer, Emmett Anders. As soon as his mother gave the
green light they'd be lining up to deflower him, with Emmett
at the front of the line. `Nothing up Connor's butt' was the
only rule. That, and have him home by midnight. Connor more
than made up for his mother's restraint with the other things
he did. He liked to suck. Boy, did he like to suck. Connor
soon had a reputation as a hoover. He could do things with
his lips and mouth that most boys choked on. The first time
he swallowed for Will was in a sound-stage bathroom. It was
just a few minutes after the seven-year-old tyke finished
doing a voice-over audition for a cartoon feature film.
Unlike the sound stage, the bathroom wasn't well sound-
proofed, but seeing a dribble of his semen escape Connor's
tightly stretched lips was worth the risk. That raspy hot-
boy voice was even more raucous the next day.

"Cynthia," Will continued guardedly. "Believe me when I say
that Hollywood's reputation is well deserved." It was a safe
way of saying what he was getting at.

"I'm aware of that." Cynthia's unrelenting stare wavered.
She breathed deeply. "Mr. Sterling,... Will,... I'm not naive. I
know what goes on." She sounded vaguely frustrated, as if she
wanted to come to the point but couldn't quite get there.

"Do you?"

"We wouldn't be sitting here in your office otherwise."

While Will waited for her to explain, he glanced at her son.
Dyani's face had become slightly flushed. Even with a hint of
crimson coloring the boy was drop-dead gorgeous. Will
absently licked his lips. His cock ached. He brought his
thighs close together, pressing his knees together like a
woman. It didn't help. Too fucking gorgeous for his own good,
he thought. He wondered what was going through Dyani's
pretty head. The blush had happened only in the last few
seconds. Was he embarrassed by what his mother was saying?
What she was about to say? Will could tell that mother and
son were close. Will kept looking sideways at him. Dyani's
gaze appeared to be focused somewhere below the table. With
the leather pad between them it was impossible to see what he
was looking at, yet Will had the distinct impression that the
boy was staring at his crotch. Too good to be true. It wasn't
the first time that a boy was like that.  Maybe his
overactive imagination was at work, but it was very possible
that the boy  realized the effect that he was having on the
man who was sitting across the table from him. It was
unsettling to say the least.

"In Indianapolis, well, let me put it this way. It was quite
obvious what was expected if Dyani wanted to get a part,...
even if no one came out and said it," she added warily.

Will nodded, dragging his eyes back to meet hers. He wondered
what part she was talking about.

"It's an industry-wide situation," he agreed circumspectly.
"It doesn't matter whether it's New York or L.A., or
Indianapolis."

Cynthia didn't say anything for a few seconds. She smiled.
"It was something of a wake-up call after the sitcom didn't
work out."

"What happened in Indianapolis?" Will prompted. Dying to get
to whatever it was that she was implying.

"After Dy didn't get the sitcom, he auditioned for a part in
an important play."

"Community theater, Mom," Dyani interjected. "That's all it
was, Mr. Sterling."

"It doesn't matter. It's still being talked about in
Indianapolis," Cynthia countered. "Do you want to tell Mr.
Sterling, honey?"

Dyani made a wry face to show what he thought of that idea.

"I thought so," his mother said. "Anyway, the director at the
theater was a very nice man. He looked a lot like Harrison
Ford, didn't he sweetie?" There was no response from her son.
"His name was Trevor Miller."

"Travis. It was Travis, Mom." He sounded petulant.

"Okay, Travis then, sweetie. It really doesn't make a whole
lot of difference. Anyway, Travis was very pleasant and so
helpful. He took Dy into his office and talked to him for
nearly an hour after his audition. It was at least an hour,"
she emphasized.

Will waited for the punch line. Dyani had stopped looking
through the glass. He was staring down at his feet. The coy-
boy blush was gone. His face was a shade darker still. Not
anger. Humiliation more than likely.

"After that,... well when Dy came out of the office and told me
he got the part, it was obvious what happened, Mr. Sterling."
She smiled uncertainly. "He was the best choice, of course.
That's what Travis said too."

She hesitated to say more. Even though she considered
herself to be very broadminded, some things were still
difficult to talk about. She had not confided in anyone after
Dyani told her what transpired in the director's office, not
even her husband, especially not him. He would never
understand why she didn't go straight to the police.

"And?" Will prompted.

"I'm very tolerant person," she added ambiguously. "So is
Dy."

"Hollywood is very tolerant as well. You and Dyani will fit
right in," Will quipped.

"I hope so." She sounded almost wistful.

He managed not to smile. He could easily guess what had
happened in the director's office, for at least an hour.
Lucky Travis! He would love to have Dyani alone in his office
for an hour as well. And from, the way the conversation was
progressing, it was sounding increasingly likely.

"I'm not going to stand in Dyani's way, Mr. Sterling,"
Cynthia said quietly. "He has a lot of talent. It would be a
shame to waste it."

Will imagined the kind of talent she was talking about and
hoped that he was right in his observations. Most men could
only dream about a boy like Dyani Deere, yet there he was,
sitting in Will Sterling's office, staring quietly down at
his feet. Fucking ravishing. He didn't appear to be all that
upset about what his mother was saying. He was merely
embarrassed by her talking about him.

"Especially when he's such a handsome young man," Will added
oddly. She glanced at him. Dyani flinched. Perhaps it was his
tone of voice.

"As I said, I'm very understanding," she emphasized.

"That's good," Will acknowledged slyly. "That's a large part
of what it takes to be successful here."

"I've always believed that a person should do whatever it
takes to achieve their dreams."

"I agree a hundred percent."

It was a reprise of the conversation that he'd had with
Connor's mother, with more than a dozen mothers over the last
year. There had been one or two times when the child's father
was present, but mostly they were very quiet.

"I won't stand in his way," she repeated. "If need be, I'll
do whatever it takes for Dy achieve his dreams. Whatever it
is that needs to happen,... I'll always be there to support
him."

She would too, he knew she would. A lot of mothers were like
that. Ambitious. Driven to succeed. They weren't reluctant
to take advantage of the world they wanted to become part of.
Most said it was the benefit of their offspring, but Will
knew better. They did it for themselves, for the money and
because they lived vicariously. They took advantage of their
children in ways that other parents would not. Will depended
on that to get his commission.

"I'm a realist, Mr. Sterling. Once you get to know Dyani, I'm
sure you'll agree that everything I do is in his best
interest."

Will studied the boy in front of him. He had small ears that
were very close to his head. The effect was to give him an
subtle pixie look, fragile yet mischievous. It was an
interesting combination with his lascivious eyes and too-
pretty-for-a-boy lips. A sexy fairy? Will barely avoided
laughing. Perhaps it was natural, but more than likely he'd
had surgery along the way. Dyani was a big investment for his
lower-middle-class family.

He turned back to Cynthia. "Why don't you come to the point?"
he suggested daringly. "You might start by telling me what
happened between Dyani and Travis."

"He played with me," Dyani muttered.

Will almost lurched. Instead, he smiled. At Dyani, because
the boy was looking at him again. Those big intense eyes
seemed to bore right through him and shout `sex'. He couldn't
help thinking `lucky Travis' again, yet at the same time he
realized that it probably wasn't the first time that a man
had played with the boy's dick. He had the 'willing-to-play'
look.

"Travis did?" He had to be certain.

Dyani jerked his head. His mother seemed not to be listening.

"Hm,..." He pretended to ponder. He rubbed the bridge of his
nose. "You didn't mind?" Will asked cautiously.

Some boys did mind, a lot. He wasn't interested in them. Some
boys wouldn't say how they felt about it, but their
expressions showed that they didn't mind, or at least they
tolerated it. A few boys enjoyed it. The rest accepted that
it was necessary. After a while, they enjoyed it as well.

Again, there was another acknowledgment without uttering a
word. Dyani was visibly flustered, which was a good thing
because the alternative didn't invite thinking about. Will
had seen a few boys in that category. Sex was a means to an
end for them, as it was for most of his clients, but some
boys were immoral. They used men and men used them in return.
That was Kyle Anderson. No one really liked whores, but Kyle
was always waiting for cock, hanging around and ready to drop
his pants for anyone who had something he needed.

"I suppose you think I'm a terrible mother," Cynthia said
quietly.

"No." Will chose his words carefully. "I think you
understand what the world is really like, Cynthia. I think
parents nowadays are much too restrictive. Boys will be
boys. Or rather they're supposed to be boys, but I think our
society is preventing them. There's too much emphasis on
preventing child abuse and nothing about a boy's natural
inclinations. Willingness and child abuse are opposite sides
of the spectrum as I see it."

"Dy's willing, aren't you sweetie?"

"Mom!" Dyani sounded aggravated.

Will finally smiled at him. It was impossible not to, not
after hearing that impetuous little squeak. Dyani's eyes
darted away to hide.

"He'll be lucky if that's the worst thing that happens to
him," Will said solemnly, still watching for a reaction.

Cynthia nodded slightly. "If he does,... well if he does
things,... how likely is it,... that he'll get auditions?"

"Very likely," Will replied. He tapped the open file before
him. "He's got a very good start already, thanks to you. He's
handsome. Assuming he's talented,...."

"He is."

"Then, there shouldn't be a problem. He needs to meet the
right people, do some auditions, and if he plays his cards
right, he'll get plenty of work for a few years at least. He
might get a second chance when he's in his late teens, but
most kids move onto other things. It's the main reason why
SAG is so concerned with their education."

"Only for a few years?"

Will exhaled and nodded. The truth always hit hard. "He's
ten, so in a year or two he'll start puberty. He'll be fine
until his voice breaks. That's still considered cute, at
least for sitcoms because the change happens over time. You
might remember a few episodes of Home Improvement when JTT's
voice broke. They got the highest ratings for the season. But
after that it's all down hill. In a movie, it's a nightmare.
In the opening scenes the boy's a soprano. By the end of a
movie he's a baritone with pimples. Casting directors avoid
boys at that stage like the plague."

"I hadn't realized."

"Most people wouldn't. It's more than his voice, Cynthia.
Makeup can cover the pimples, but not a boy's physical
development. If he's lucky, Dyani will have three to four
years before he stops being a cute kid. He might get two or
three movies in that period. Maybe one of them will be the
big bonanza. There's no way of telling." He paused to let it
sink in. "It's the main reason why most kids get into acting
at seven or eight years old."

"I knew we waited too long."

If Dyani sounded bitter it was easy to understand why. He had
spent the last five years of his life getting prepared for
something that might only last a few years.

Still, Will shrugged ambivalently.

"Just imagine poor Jeremy Zane and his parents. He was
fourteen by the time "Neverland" finished shooting. He might
get another movie if he's lucky, but the chances aren't all
that good. He's a good-looker like Dyani so he might
transition to adult roles in a couple of years. It doesn't
happen very often. They're called a phoenix when they do
that. They rise from the flames of ephemeral childhood," he
joked. He didn't add that the term derived from another
phoenix.

"He looks so much younger than fourteen," Cynthia responded.

"He's probably popping a nightly dose of Melatonin, I
expect," Will said. "Although from the look of him, he
probably started a few years too late."

"What's Melatonin?"

"It's something you can buy from the local health food store,
Cynthia. Quite a few of the boys I work with are on it. You
might think about it for Dyani. He's at the right age to
start taking it."

"What is it?" Dyani asked apprehensively

"From what I know, and it's not very much, Dyani, it's a
naturally occurring hormone. Adults use it for improving
their sleep patterns. If a child takes it before puberty,
it's supposed to have the effect of delaying puberty."

"How does it work?" Dyani asked.

He sounded interested. It always surprised Will how many
boys were interested in staying younger when the reality of
puberty loomed up at them. It wasn't entirely a matter of
building their careers either. However, the interest usually
didn't come until they had a successful movie or two under
their belts, and for many of them, it came  too late to do
anything to stop it.

"I don't know all that much about it, Dyani."

 That wasn't quite true. Will had done some research on the
Internet after one of his client's mothers brought it to his
attention half-a-dozen years ago.

"It has something to do with the pineal gland, I believe. As
you near puberty, your pineal gland begins to reduce the
amount of Melatonin it produces. That kicks off the process
elsewhere in your body. By taking the pills right before you
get into bed, you'll get a good night's sleep, your Melatonin
level stays high, and you won't grow up as quickly."

Dyani considered it. So did his mother.

"It won't hurt him?" Cynthia asked.

"As far as I know, not at all. He'll just be a late bloomer,
that's all."

Will knew of several dozen boys who had been taking Melatonin
on a regular basis. He hadn't observed anything, or at least
anything that could be called a problem. It was as if their
childhood was extended by a few years. Their balls stayed
small. So did their dicks. Small and hairless. It was
perfect. It worked on girls too, according to what he'd heard
from other agents. It wasn't a conspiracy, but it was the
miracle drug for Hollywood kid-actors. Fortunately, the big
green pills of a few years earlier had become small white
pills that kids had no trouble swallowing. It was legal, too.
There were times when he wished it had been around forty
years earlier.

"Is it expensive?" Cynthia asked. Her embarrassment was
audible. A good parent would have dismissed the suggestion
out of hand. To do otherwise was to take advantage of the
child, and their childhood.

"I've heard you can get a bottle at Walmart for five bucks
plus change. That's 300 tablets too, nearly a year's supply.
What's that work out to?"

"It's a bit less than two cents each," Dyani answered
quickly. Too quickly. Perhaps he had already heard about
Melatonin from another boy. Unlikely, although the word got
around quickly once a boy became involved in the Hollywood
scene.

Will chuckled. "That's not much more than a piece of candy,
is it huh? It's just like buying jelly beans," he added with
a gesture to the jar on his desk.

Now, that would be funny! Handing out Melatonin tablets
instead of jelly beans to his clients whenever they came in
for a meeting with him. The only problem was that they would
have to take them at night.

"From everything I've heard, it's the best money you'll
spend, Cynthia," he added convincingly.

It was a pity that Kyle Anderson wasn't taking Melatonin, he
thought sardonically. The little queer was growing up fast,
too damned fast. A month or two past twelve years old and he
was filling out. He was a good actor with exceptionally good
looks. He knew it, and so did everyone around him. He also
had more than his fair share of testosterone now that he was
maturing. Perhaps a nightly dose of Melatonin might have
helped to decrease the kid's sex drive. Another few months
and it would be difficult to get him auditions. When you got
down to it, it didn't matter whether he could act or not.
Five and a half inch dicks and hairy balls were undesirable
for a lot of the men who Will kept track of, or at least not
so desirable that a casting decision would be influenced.
The problem that Kyle Anderson faced was especially
difficult given the kid's promiscuity. Even with condoms it
meant that there was an added risk of a sexually transmitted
disease. No one liked whores.

There were times when in a moment of forthrightness, Will
Sterling thought of himself as a salesman. Being an agent was
a lot like selling cars. Innocent boys were like the new car.
No mileage and the right smell. They were always easy to
sell. Everyone wanted to take them for a test drive. There
were lots of buyers, lined up and waiting and very willing to
do whatever was required to sit in the driver's seat. Even
when a boy was broken in, there was still demand, just so
long as he wasn't worn out. However, it was always harder to
sell used merchandise.

It was time to get to the heart of the matter. "Dyani, I
don't want to embarrass you, but I would like to talk about
something," Will began heartlessly.

"Travis?" Dyani posed awkwardly.

Guessed right, but it wasn't surprising. Not with the kid's
'want-to-fuck-me' look.

"That's right. Do you mind?"

"No." Dyani gave a nervous twitch. "It's okay I guess. I kind
of figured it would come up again."

Dyani was back to staring at his feet. The situation would
have been a lot less stressful if his mother wasn't present,
yet Will appreciated the importance of keeping her there.
Complicity was important. That way there were no
recriminations afterwards. She knew. She understood. She
went along. There was no reason for her to complain. The
father was a different matter, but he had the impression that
the father was out of the picture for the present. Perhaps
permanently.

"Did you like what Travis did to you?" Will asked in a bland
voice.

Dyani shrugged. "It was okay I guess."

"Did you like it?" Will persisted.

"What's not to like? He played with my dick." Despite his
rather blase tone, Dyani uttered an uneasy giggle after a few
seconds."

"There's nothing quite like getting your weenie played with
after an audition, is there?" Will joked.

Dyani frowned, but he quickly gave Will a bored-to-tears
look. It came too late. He was out of his depth.

"Did you have an orgasm, son?"

It was a good choice to end with `son', Will thought. He
would have given ten- to-one odds that the father hadn't been
told what happened to his son. They seldom were told. It was
part of the terrain of the mother-son conspiracy. Will
assumed that it was probably the same for girls who lost
their virginity in Hollywood. No one wanted to talk about it
afterwards. It was too late to do anything so they went along
with it because that was the only way to deal with it.

There was silence. Cynthia rubbed her neck awkwardly.
Perhaps she had not asked her son that question. Few mothers
would ever think to do so. Perhaps they didn't think their
sons were capable of sexual pleasure, or maybe they didn't
want to confront the possibility that the boy enjoyed it.

"Orgasm?" the boy asked innocuously. His eyes flickered up,
met Will's steady gaze, and then darted away again.

Will smiled. It was impossible not too. Fucking beautiful
boy! Drop-dead gorgeous body. He didn't have to see him naked
to know that! But it was amusing, that juvenile attempt to
conceal the shameful truth that he had loved every wonderful
second of it.

"You did, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I guess I did."

"Did you touch his penis?"

This was the important question as far as Will was concerned.
It was good that the boy was agreeable to being touched. That
he enjoyed being played with was even better, but if he
reciprocated willingly, then Will's job was made just that
much easier.

"Yeah, for a while."

It was like pulling teeth. Will had already noticed that
Dyani had perfect teeth, if he overlooked the Bucky Beaver
pair in the front. He'd grow out of it, of course. They all
did. A lot of boys had two seemingly oversized upper front
teeth. In Will's opinion, it just added to the boyish charm,
even if they did scrape on his dick occasionally. Dyani had
the kind of teeth that came either naturally in one-in-a-
thousand boys, or with an orthodontist's help. Unless he was
incredibly lucky, his family probably had a two thousand
dollar investment in his mouth alone. With those sublime
lips, it was money well spent.

"Did you like doing that to him?"

Dyani hung his head.

"Don't be silly, sweetie," Cynthia said after a few seconds
of silence. "You know you did. You already told me so."

"Mom!"

Will leaned forward. The boy's shyness and shame was
endearing. It probably hadn't been longer than a few minutes
before his hand had ventured onto the man's cock. A lot of
boys were like that, especially the gay boys. Given the
opportunity, they all reached out sooner or later. It was
pre-programmed into them. Boy plus man equals sex play. It
was part of being gay. They were attracted to men, especially
to the one part of a man's body that was so different to
their own. Other boys were interesting too, but for most gay
kids, it was men who excited them the most.

It only took a single glance to see that Dyani was well on
the way to coming out. Being different to other boys was a
lonely existence, although he was doing his best to deal with
it. His mother probably knew he was gay as well. Unless she
was blind, she had to realize he was different to other boys
every time she looked at him. Now, her son was struggling to
admit how he felt, to tell his deepest secrets to a man who
was a complete stranger until an hour ago.

"Okay, let's not go down that road today," Will chuckled.

He made deliberate eye contact with Dyani and smiled
reassuringly to let the boy know that what he had done was
nothing to be ashamed about.

He glanced at his Omega Seamaster watch. It was nearly ten
o'clock. His next appointment was waiting. He needed to use
the bathroom. At least it wouldn't take more than a few
minutes. His erection was demanding relief. It wouldn't take
much more than a few quick stroked to bring it to orgasm. He
would fantasize about Dyani while he masturbated. Maybe even
use the kid's photograph to get off. The one where he's
looking sideways at the camera and smiling shyly. Oh, how he
loved those luscious lips, those divinely seductive eyes. He
came back to earth.

"Cynthia. Dyani. The next stage is for you to think about
what we've talked about this morning. If you're still
interested, I can recommend an attorney to examine the
contract my secretary will give you when you leave. Once it's
signed, we can start making arrangements."

"Mr. Sterling, there is one problem." She sighed. "I don't
have enough money. I'm sure I can get a job, but it will take
a while."

"How much do you have?"

"Twenty eight thousand. We're taking out a second mortgage
on our house in Indianapolis. My husband will send the money
to me."

"I wish I didn't have to say this, but you'll need a lot more
than that, I'm afraid," Will said flatly.

"How much, Sir?"

Will turned to Dyani. At least he was speaking again. His
face had returned to its normal color.

"You can add it up for me," he said as he handed over a sheet
of paper and a platinum and gold pen. "Okay, there's the
portfolio for ten k. And your video with okay sound. That's
another ten k, plus or minus. My retainer of twenty thousand
should be in there somewhere. You'll need a new wardrobe, I
expect. That should run, I don't know another thousand."

Will pursed his lips. He watched Dyani scribbling on the pad.
Kissing those lips would be like drinking from the fountain
of youth, especially if the kid used some tongue. That Connor
was a kisser, but he wasn't in the same league as Draven.
That boy knew how to kiss. He gave hickies too, which was
always embarrassing the next morning.

"Then, there's food and rent while you're here in L.A." he
turned to Cynthia. "Where are you staying?" he asked, even
though he knew the answer.

"We at the Holiday Inn for now. We have to look for an
apartment when we leave here."

"Okay, let's say you get lucky and find a nice apartment for
two thousand. And another thousand a month for food. That's
three thousand a month minimum. Better make that four
because you'll need a car to get around. So that'll be how
much? Math never was my strong point."

"That's sixteen thousand dollars, from now up to September.
Assuming we're back home again when school starts," Dyani
said.

"Then, you'll need entertainment funds. I'll help out a lot
there because I can bill some of it to the firm, but you'll
still spend a few thousand a month just getting out to meet
people in the industry. Let's say two thousand for starters.
How are we doing so far?"

Dyani looked up. "Sixty five thousand dollars."

"That sounds low. Usually, I recommend eighty to a hundred
for start up. Of course, you won't get much of an apartment
for two thousand a month, not on this side of town anyway. I
have another client who's just moved into a place off
Wiltshire. They're paying nearly four thousand a month."

"We don't have anywhere near enough," Cynthia said flatly.
"Even if I can convince Jeff to send more, which I doubt,
we'll be lucky to have half of that."

Will stood up. He had been thinking for some time about
whether to push her all the way at the first meeting. The
opportunity was there. The boy was as cute as they came, and
he was obviously interested in his crotch. His mother as much
as said that she wouldn't get in the way. All he needed to do
was to take advantage of what was being presented to him. It
was all part of the game.

"Dyani, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to talk with your
mother about some details. My secretary will show you the
portfolios for some of of our successful clients so you know
where you're headed."

There was nothing like using another boy's success to light
the fire of motivation. He waited until the door was closed
again. Instead of resuming his seat, he walked to the window.
There, silhouetted, he turned to face Cynthia. She was
pretty. She had been beautiful when she was younger. He could
see where Dyani got his best features from.

"Your son is a beautiful boy, Cynthia. I can see where he
gets his good looks from," he said. It was only the truth.
"Most mothers wouldn't understand what he's going through,
and if they did, they wouldn't be as supportive. Of course
it's nothing more than he deserves, but I hope he knows how
lucky he is."

There was nothing that worked as well as outright flattery to
get a woman's attention. Cynthia leaned forward.

"It's been difficult for both of us," she said quietly,
choosing her words carefully. "My husband doesn't appreciate
how talented Dy is. He'd much rather have had a football jock
for a son. He's never been happy that Dy's,... well
different."

"There's room in this world for all kinds. It just a matter
of finding where you fit in," Will said. He wanted to sound
reassuring. He did.

"He's always acted,... gay," Cynthia proffered. "He thinks he
is too. It doesn't seem to bother him. And after what
happened with Travis, I'm quite sure of it."

"He's still young. It might just be a phase he's going
through," Will said. It was surprising how often he said that
to console parents. Sometimes it was true. Usually, when the
parents brought a boy's sexual attraction up, it was because
they had the evidence of their own eyes.

"Maybe, but I doubt it." She hesitated. "Why did you want to
speak to me without him here?"

"No reason other than I thought you might have some things
you want to talk about with me," Will said suggestively.

She didn't answer at first. Finally, she gave a weak laugh
and sat back in her chair. "You have more success in getting
boys into the movies than any other agent in Los Angeles, Mr.
Sterling. Why is that?"

"I have good clients and I understand what boys want to do,"
Will answered simply. "Plus they're talented and they work
hard. I'm not interested in working with them otherwise."

"So are most kids who get involved in acting," Cynthia said
flatly.

Will didn't dispute it. "The boys I work with put everything
they have into it, Cynthia. They aren't afraid to do whatever
it takes to get an audition."

"Which is?" Cynthia asked bluntly.

"Let's put it this way. In life, most success generally comes
because of the people you know. That's true in the movie
business as well."

"You mean `know' in the Biblical sense, don't you Mr.
Sterling?"

Will chuckled. "Yes, although I wouldn't have put it quite so
bluntly, but now that you have, that's precisely what
happens. It's all very discreet, but most of the successful
kid actors are doing more to get screen tests than going to
acting classes and standing in line for auditions. The kids
who don't get past the first round of auditions scream that
they've been mistreated or the selection wasn't fair, but
there's no proof."

He smiled, thinking about Mark Cambridge. He hadn't had a
single acting lesson when he was selected for the part of
Jack Hawkins in "Return to Treasure Island". All it took was
for him to spend a night with the producer and his teenage
son. Will picked him up the next morning. From the way the
boy walked to the car, he had to be sore.

"Well, other than the fact that a lot of my boys don't even
go to the first level auditions, but that means nothing in
itself," he added circumspectly.

"So it's not what you do, but who you do it with?"

Cynthia sounded sarcastic, which was not unexpected. Even
Will Sterling viewed the situation with cynicism at times.

"I wouldn't put it quite in those terms, but I have to say
that there have been some awful casting decisions
sometimes." He smiled at the inside joke. "The Screen Actors
Guild knows it's going on, of course. That's why there are
monitors on the sets, but the decisions are made long before
any filming is done."

"I think I'm beginning to understand the situation, Mr.
Sterling."

"The thing to keep in mind is that all of the kids who get to
the final three or four and are asked to do a screen test are
perfect for the part. The selection of who actually gets the
part always comes down to personal preference. It's all
about who you know in the long run. The issue is how to
affect that person's preference."

"Meaning what?"

"It depends on the boys involved." Will wasn't prepared to
say more, not when the discussion was being recorded.

"The person you're talking about is the director then?"
Cynthia asked.

"Eventually. He's got the final say, that's for sure,
although I've placed a lot of my clients by connections with
producers. They tend to keep in the background, but once in a
while they can have a big impact on who gets a part. Then the
audition and screen test are just formalities. However, that
angle aside, unless there's a connection with director from
the outset, it usually means going through the casting
director. I know half a dozen at least who are either gay or
closet-pedophiles. If there's a big name actor involved it
might require having him or her onside as well."

"So unless the producer approach works, it might that mean Dy
would have sex with two or three people for a single part?"
Cynthia asked candidly.

Will smiled. She was blunt. He wasn't surprised. If they had
a four month window of opportunity, then her time was
limited.

 "I'm not saying that. You are," he replied warily. "My job
is to arrange for him to meet with the right people. What
happens after that is up to him,... and you."

"I suppose it wouldn't be the end of the world," she said
quietly. "He really wants to be an actor,..."

"He certainly seems to want to," Will agreed.

 "I just know that he has what it takes, Hr. Sterling. He has
the talent for it. Do you think you could get him to meet the
right people?"

"It rather depends on what he wants to do."

There were a range of options available. The trick was to
select the right approach. Will stepped away from the
window. He checked his watch. It was already a few minutes
past 10.00 am. His next client was back for a second meeting.
The Fullers weren't strict Mormons, but they still came with
lots of hang ups. On the plus side, they had the money to get
eleven-year-old very-cute Joseph thoroughly prepared. He had
a good delivery, almost enough to offset his family's
conservative values. He'd probably get a few voice-overs,
maybe a commercial or two. He might play some background
parts. He had talent. He just had too much morality for his
own good. He probably wouldn't discover he was gay until
after he was married.

Cynthia stood up. She'd noticed the time as well.

"I'm sorry to take up so much of your time, Mr. Sterling. I
really appreciate you seeing us at such short notice."

"It's not a problem, Cynthia. I've enjoying meeting Dyani by
the way. I usually don't say this, but from what I've seen so
far I think he should have a good career ahead of him."

They shook hands and said goodbye. She started to walk to the
door. She was nearly there when she stopped and slowly turned
around. Their eyes met. That was when Will realized that he
had won the battle. She smiled imperceptibly.

"He wants this very much and so do I, Mr. Sterling. I know my
son very well. He'll do whatever it takes."

"Ultimately it's Dyani's decision as much as yours,' Will
said emphatically.

He trusted her. She trusted him. He walked up to her. They
shook hands again, all but concluding the bargain of Dyani's
future in Hollywood.

"Why don't you talk to him and let me know." He opened the
door for her and stepped back to let her pass. "My advice is
to be very open with him, Cynthia. The more he understands
what's required of him, the better he`ll be able to follow
through when the time comes."

She nodded in agreement. "I already know what his answer is.
I expect you do too, Mr. Sterling." She brought her head
closer as she passed him. "We both know he couldn't keep his
eyes off you. It's a pity you aren't a producer. He'd be in
bed with you in a flash, and he'd enjoy it too."

She kept going, walking into the reception area. Will just
stood there, his heart going at about twice its normal rate.
He glimpsed Dyani sitting with his back to the huge glass
window. Drop-dead fucking gorgeous! And those eyes.
Seductive as hell.



Will Sterling finally managed to make it back to his seat. It
wasn't the first time that a woman had been explicit when she
talked about her son's future. Some women even asked about
the sort of things that their sons would have to do. Of
course, he played it down. He talked in broad generalities,
about the importance of a good relationship, about not
having hang-ups, about not asking too many questions. At
least that was what usually happened on subsequent meetings
after they had a chance to think it through. Perhaps it was
lingering guilt, perhaps maternal reluctance at being an
accomplice in something that most people would call
depraved. Perhaps they were merely being curious or trying
to demonstrate they really were open-minded.

He had trouble concentrating. Fuck! He couldn't get his mind
off the kid. It wasn't the first time that a boy had ogled
him from the other side of the table. He was almost used to
that happening. Not a single day passed, at least during the
summer, when a boy didn't give him the eye. Most of the time
it happened when he was driving his car. He glanced through
the Dyani Deere file once again, thinking quickly. They
needed money, a lot of money. They needed him. He pulled out
the eight by ten glossy. No doubt about it. The kid had a
face to die for. He probably had a body to die for. The kid
was queer. He was willing. The mother more than understood
the situation. She was willing, if not downright eager for
her son to hop into bed with a man. He'd been too worried
about the risk. He hadn't played his trump card.



Will Sterling hurried to the door, passing his secretary on
the way in with the next family in tow. Joseph Fuller was
cute, he wouldn't have been there otherwise, but he wasn't in
the same league as Dyani, not by a long shot. Dyani was drop-
dead gorgeous. He barely paid them any attention, just
enough to hear that they were having second thoughts about
the contract. They had some questions. Usually, he would
have gone through the contract with them, explaining the
details. Instead, he gave a hurried explanation of why he
needed to be elsewhere and directed them to the paralegal who
prepared the contracts in consultation with the firm's
attorneys. He rushed outside, hoping that Dyani and his
mother had not left.



They were still in the parking lot. Standing next to a small
rental car, a Ford Taurus or something like that. Anonymous.
Boring. Typical. Will approached, thinking about what he
would say. Dyani glanced in his direction and promptly
waved. Enthusiastically too, and they'd only just met. That
was a good sign.

"I'm glad you haven't left," Will said when he reached them.

Dyani looked at him. His dark magnetic eyes were even more
intense than they had been inside Will's office. Their
purpose seemed to be as much sinful as seeing the world. Will
melted. He'd never met a boy who could seduce him with a
single glance, but that was exactly how he felt. He wanted
the boy badly. He wanted him in a way that hurt inside.

"It's getting hot already," Will observed, although his
powers of observation were entirely focused on a boy instead
of the meteorological conditions of great outdoors.

Dyani averted his gaze quickly. He seemed a little
embarrassed, leaving Will with the suspicion that they had
been talking about what he needed to do in order to have a
chance at a career in movies. His mother gave Will a reserved
smile.

"Dy's a little worried, Mr. Sterling," she explained . "I
think he needs time to get used to the idea. I expect that's
only natural."

"It's a big decision, especially at his age," Will replied
disingenuously . "What both of you need to keep in mind is
that no one else will know about it. There's really nothing
for him to be worried about. I'm thinking he'll settle down
very quickly and have a great time."

"That's what I was just telling him," Cynthia added. "You'll
probably have a wonderful time, sweetie,... meeting all those
famous people."

"It's more than just meeting people, Mom," Dyani muttered.

"Yes it is. You'll get to know them very well, I expect. If
they like you, then,..."

"Yeah, I know. Everything will work out." Dyani looked up at
Will. "It's more than letting some guy play with my dick,
isn't it?"

Will nodded awkwardly. To-the-point didn't begin to describe
it.

"She thinks I'll enjoy doing it," Dyani said callously.

"You very well might. These are nice people, Dyani. They like
boys in a very special way. They want to have fun with you,
and they want you to have fun as well. They won't hurt you."

Dyani appeared unconvinced. He glanced at his mother for
moral support, but none was forthcoming. The decision had to
be his and his alone.

He looked back at Will. "Okay. I'll try it for a while."

"Oh Sweetie. I'm so proud of you. You're doing the right
thing, I just know it."

"You've made the right decision, Dyani. You won't regret
it," Will added his two cents' worth.

"So what happens now?" Dyani asked fretfully.

"At first, well it'll be much the same as what happened
between you and Travis," Will said reassuringly. "After
that, well, it's really up to you to decide what you do and
don't want to do. No one's going to force you to do anything
you don't want to do."

Dyani smiled slightly. He could handle that. It might even be
fun. It would be fun. He swallowed anxiously, worrying
whether the people he was going to meet would like him. It
was just a shame that Mr. Sterling wasn't one of the people
he would have sex with. Will seemed to like him, and he knew
that he liked Will.

His mother coughed. "The only problem is we don't have the
money to even get started, Mr. Sterling. We're not even
close. Perhaps I could get a job, but there's no way I can
make ten thousand dollars a month."

"Your being employed really isn't practicable anyway,
Cynthia. Dyani will need to be taken to places. Taxis cost a
fortune in L.A. We really can't have him roaming around by
himself either."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

She placed her hand on her son's shoulder. It was almost like
she was pushing him forward, ushering him into Will's
embrace. For a moment Will resented her touching him. He
couldn't help it. He wasn't at all sure why he felt that way.
She was his mother. She had a perfect right to touch her son.

"I was thinking, depending on what Dyani wants of course,
that maybe I could be of some assistance," he said slowly.

Dyani's eyes met his. He turned on his charm, 100 percent
pure seduction, and it only his eyes. His lips were parted
slightly, showing the white of his oversized front teeth. It
had the effect of giving Will an immediate erection.

"How so, Mr. Sterling?"

"If you're a client you're supposed to call me Will, or Sil.
It's your choice, Dyani, just so long as it's not Mr.
Sterling or, heaven forbid, Sir. It's just your mom who has
to call me Mr. Sterling," Will said with a meaningful wink.

Dyani giggled. Will smiled back at him. Seeing Dyani
standing there, in the sunshine on the north side of Sunset
Boulevard he found it impossible to imagine a more beautiful
boy. There were some boys who he would cross the street for,
even Sunset Boulevard in peak traffic, just to be able to
have a closer look. For Dyani, he would have driven halfway
across town.

"How,... um, Sil?" Dyani asked.

Again his lascivious eyes flickered and flashed their erotic
warning, but by then Will was silly putty.

"Well,..." Will began. His confidence was ebbing fast. What
was it about the boy that made his mind chaotic? Those
delectable lips? Those incredibly sexy eyes.

"In a way, Dyani, what I can do to help you depends on what
you can do to help me."

Dyani wasn't old enough to appreciate adult innuendo. His
response was to keep smiling. Fortunately, his mother came
to the rescue.

"I'm sure Dy'll be perfectly happy to do whatever you want,
Mr. Sterling," she said covertly.

Both of them knew, even if Dyani did not, that what she was
taking about was carte blanche, open season, take your pick,
free rein, no holds barred sex.

"Do you have the contract there, Cynthia?" Will asked,
emboldened . He could see the thick wad of papers in the
pocket of her handbag.

She extracted it and handed it over. Right there in front of
them, with cars buzzing back and forth along Sunset
Boulevard, Will took out his pen and crossed out the
reference to his retainer fee and added the word `waived'
with his initials next to it. The expression on his client's
face was priceless, but he wasn't finished.

"There, that's gone. It's not often that I do this," Will
said as he turned to the second last page, which was blank
but for the title 'supplementary conditions'. "However, I
think you're a good investment, Dyani. Don't make me regret
doing this," he added with a laugh.

He began to write in the margin, speaking as he went because
his handwriting was barely legible. "Additional services.
The agent, in recognition of the special talent of the child,
will provide the following additional services to prepare
said child for auditions. These services will consist of a
professionally photographed portfolio of the child, a thirty
minute demonstration video/DVD with full high-quality audio,
and such clothing and other personal items to ensure a high
level of presentation. There, I think that just about does
it."

It was a contract amendment that required initials. He added
`WS' and turned to the next page where he signed his name
with a bold Hollywood-style flourish before handing the
document back to Cynthia.

"Mr. Sterling,... I'm,... I'm indebted to you. That's,... that's
so generous. I,... I can't believe it."

"I can," Dyani grinned gleefully. His big buck teeth gleamed
in the sun. Will wanted to lean down and kiss the boy right
on his full red lips. "Thanks a zillion. You won't regret it,
I promise,... Will," he added emphatically.

Dyani wasn't used to called adults by their first names,
especially men who had the power to affect his life. Yet, he
also intuitively appreciated what he needed to do to have a
very positive effect on his career. And that made him tremble
with anticipation, even more than he had felt when Travis
slyly suggested that he wouldn't mind seeing if his suntan
was 'all-over'. His hands had trembled when he stood before
the man with his shirt lifted up.

Cynthia borrowed Will's pen and added her initials and
signature to the contract. There was a space for Dyani to
sign as well. Although a minor's signature had almost no
legal validity, Will believed that having the client sign
added a good measure of self-esteem and developed
commitment.

"Now that the formalities are out of the way, we need to get
this show on the road," Will said. "The first thing is to get
a portfolio for Dyani and that means a photo session with
Gary Holland. He's the best in the business."

He took out his cell-phone and selected Gary's phone number.
Then, he waited. Gary was never quick to answer the
telephone. There was a chance that he was back on an
assignment, although he'd only recently returned from New
York. Will waited impatiently. Finally, the call went to the
answering service. After giving his name, Will was told that
Gary Holland was away from his studio. He left a brief
message with instructions to call him back, `pronto-Tonto'.
It was a code word. Draven Edison had been 'pronto-Tonto' as
well.

"Now, the next thing is to get some clothes for our future
movie star," Will joked. "There's a good place right down
Sunset. It's a few miles from here, but there's a great
selection of boy's clothes. How about I take Dyani in my car
and you follow along? I need to get to know him a-sap if
we've only got to September."

 Cynthia agreed of course, although she realized, even if her
son did not, that `getting to know' him was really an excuse,
a preliminary at best. She watched them go. So far, she much
preferred Will Sterling over Travis whatever-his-name-was,
even if Travis was ten years younger. As she got into her
car, part of her was vaguely amused by the whole thing. A man
like Will Sterling chasing after her little boy? It was a
good thing that her husband would never know.