I didn't see it coming when Naomi Balmain rushes the stage.

A slew of Balmains follow behind her.  You can tell the Balmains are just a raggedy bunch of misfits. They stand there looking like they just came out of a gangster rap video or something like that.  Maybe they think it's cute.  Maybe they think that makes them fierce.  I'm not sure.  When I see her rush the stage I can see her calling out saying how unfair it was that Valentine chopped Israel.

 

I run up to the stage.

 

Oh hell no.


"He is trying it!"  I catch Naomi midsentence talking about Valentine, "My son is face.  My son is the EMBODIMENT OF FACE.  How dare you chop him!"


Valentine is alone.  He has no one to back him up.  His entire house is at a ball in Philly.  Valentine is only here because of me.  I can see him looking over at Israel.  

 

"Well he didn't see it," I respond for Valentine.

 

Valentine looks awestruck as the look of people are around him.  The Balmains are screaming bloody fucking murder.  I watch Israel in the background.  He has on that little innocent face again, looking like a wounded bird as his thugs attack from every fucking side.  The entire stage is rushed.  I'm the only one standing behind Valentine.  Even the judges are jumping up as the Balmains storm the stage and not attempting at all to stand up for their fellow judge.  They are scared.

They are horrified.

 

But I'm there.

 

"It's him.  You made him chop Israel," Naomi is screaming.

 

Mind you, she wasn't even this angry when I slapped her.  She's completely right though.  I can do nothing more than smirk at my little victory here.

Yeah Valentine did it because of me.  Yes.  I was being shady.  I'll fucking admit it.

 

"So what?"


Almost immediately, I regret saying it.  There is something about this moment.  There is something about this little victory over Israel that blinds me to the fact that Naomi had an army behind her.  

That's when I hear her say it.

"CHAOS!"


Her command is immediate and direct.  Chaos Balmains jumps over the judge's table.  He's a fucking animal the way he hops over the table.  He jumps for me.  He would have gotten to me too if Valentine had not blocked him.  

 

Valentine pushes the table and Chaos Balmain collapses on the floor.  

Then the Balmains attack!

My heart races as they come at him.  Valentine is a boxer.  He's standing in front of me blocking their path towards me.  He's throwing his hands furiously.  He's direct.  I can see a few of these boys straight up cunt out when he hits them.  They fall on the floor.  However, like the savages they are they keep coming.  Three or four jump on Valentine pulling him to the ground.  As soon as he hits the ground, all of them gain the sense of courage that they need.

 

They attempt to go after him, kicking him...stomping him.

 

"Valentine!"

I can't help it.  I have to protect him.  He's in this position because of me.  I jump in and almost immediately, I can feel myself being hit from all angles.  I'd never been jumped before. Not quite, like this.  The blows to my stomach and head cause me to bend over.

 

"BRING THE PAIN!  BALMAIN!  BRING THE PAIN!"

That is the chant that rises out of the crowd at that moment.  I curl myself up to the floor.  Close my eyes.  It seems like forever until we are finally broken up.  Even then, I'm being hurled away by other gay houses as the Balmains completely shut down the ball throwing chairs, tables and everything that I could imagine in my direction.

 

Before I get to the door...I'm spit on, cursed out...degraded in ways that I can't even imagine.

"Get out of here!"

The words are coming from Laurence.  I realize now that Laurence and his house are the ones who broke up the fight.  Even Laurence has a busted lip.  I have no idea how it got there.

"Valentine..." is the only word that comes out of my mouth as I frantically look around, "Where's Valentine?"

Laurence is looking back.  The Balmains are still attempting to get at us.  The chaos of the ball is something that I never expected.  The streets rain with Balmains trying to break through the other houses that are attempting to ease the situation.  

"He's there...he's already in the car..."

Valentine is in the car.

I whisper a soft thank you to Laurence, jump in the car with Valentine and together we drive off.

The drive home back from New York is the worst drive I've ever had in my life.  There is a dreadful silence between Valentine and I.  I want to talk about how uncivilized the Balmains were but the look on Valentine's face is distracting.  His right eye is swollen and is barely open.  The lips on my sexy Valentine were puffy and bleeding.  His gums were bleeding.  I look at his bruised knuckles as he's driving.  I'm proud of Valentine in my own way.  We both were jumped but he gave them hell.  In addition, he did it all for me.

 

Maybe that's why after an hour or so on the Jersey Turnpike I turn to him and say, "Guess we can work it out now."

I sneak a smile.  A soft spread out snicker sneaks its way out through my bruised lungs.  My chest burns as I do it and my body reacts with a muffled strain.  

"Why'd you make me do that?" Valentine asks me.

"You asked me what you can do to make things right."

"And I look stupid as fuck," Valentine responds at that moment, "They picked me to judge because they assumed I wasn't going to throw shade and I was going to judge fair."

"He got chopped.  Big fuckin' deal."

"It is a big deal...because he was fucking beautiful tonight and you know it."


Beautiful.  The word edges against my soul just to hear it.  Valentine is speeding down the Jersey turnpike.  I can tell he's pissed.  I can tell that he didn't want to do it.  He had approached me asking me how he can make things right between him and me.  In addition, I told him he could make things right by chopping the fuck out of Israel and ending Israel's little Cinderella moment...for good.  That's what the fuck he could do to make things right.

 

"Stop choosing his side."

"I should have never done this petty shit and got involved with your stupid ass beef with Israel.  It's petty as fuck.  That's your brother and he honestly never had any bad intentions with you."

"You're defending him?"

I couldn't believe this.  I couldn't believe this was happening again.

 

"YES!"

"Pull over."

"What?" Valentine states between sucked teeth and a grimacing expression, "I'm not pulling over.  We're on the middle of the highway."

"PULL THE FUCK OVER!"

I go for the wheel.  An insane feeling of anger takes over me.  We swerve for a minute...nearly crash and Valentine manages to pull over to the access road.  As soon as the car stops, I'm out of it.  I'm running.  Its raining, this is just perfect.  Just what I need after a night of embarrassment and despair.  I had ruined my brother's moment and I had gotten beaten severely for it by his crazy ass house.  In addition, if that wasn't enough the love of my life wasn't on my side.

 

"Where are you going?" Valentine calls out for me.  "Stop.  Morocco stop."  He grabs me pulling me in before whispering a more aggressive, "Morocco."

My anger doesn't simmer down but I do stop moving long enough for him to hold me still.

 

"I can't take someone taking his side.  Not again."

 

"What the fuck is this about?" Valentine asks before digging more into my words, "What do you mean again?"  He pauses for a second or two before continuing his thought, "You had what happened tonight before?"

He looks worried.

 

I am standing in the rain.  I realize at that moment the rain isn't the only thing that's wet.  Tears are dripping down my face.  It's been so long that I allowed myself to be weak like this.  It's been so long that I allowed myself to cry to a man and Valentine at that?  

His broad chest holds me keeping me still.  His pink lips are trembling...still puffy and still bleeding but still beautiful.  He keeps his eyes lowered so they meet mine and Valentine stands there holding me with his impressive muscles making sure I don't run off again.

"His name was Jonathan Chambers," I respond smiling, "He was the love of my life.  My first love.  My first boyfriend.  We dated for a year.  Back in our town, it was unheard of for two black males to be lovers.  Our town was so small and everyone's minds were even smaller.  So guess what happened when the local pastor found Jonathan kissing another boy?"

Valentine is sympathetic before he even hears the whole story.  He puts his hand on my shoulder, "Go ahead.  Let it out."

He must know I keep things like this in.  

So as he rubs on my shoulders I tell him the rest, "They took me.  They beat me in the middle of the church.  They said they were trying to release the demons.  It never worked.  They beat me in front of my church.  They beat me in front of my family.  They beat me in front of Israel."

 

"Not knowing Israel was gay the whole time?"

"No of course not.  He watched, acting like the innocent songbird.  Everyone thought he was always so fuckin' innocent.  I was the one with demons. Malicious Morocco.  Malignant Morocco.  Monstrous Morocco.  But it was Innocent Israel.  Always Irreproachable Israel.  Little did they know that I wasn't the fucking boy kissing Jonathan Chambers that day..."

There it was.  There was the truth.  There was Valentine discovering the exact kind of person that Israel really was deep inside.

"So Israel was kissing your boyfriend?"

"Yup."

"Behind your back?"

"Yup."

"And watched while you got punished for it?"

I nod and look away, "I know what you're thinking Valentine.  Why didn't you tell someone it was really Israel?  I didn't want to.  I wanted to show my brother there was no shame in being gay.  I wanted to show my brother to live strong in who he was and not to change for anyone or anything.  So I did it.  I became Martyr Morocco and took the punishment.  My family never looked at me the same.  And I never looked at Israel the same."

Valentine is thinking.  I wonder if he still sympathizes with Israel.  I wonder if he still takes his side.

 

The only clue is when he stutters a hard, "Damn.  He was kissing your boyfriend?  On purpose?  That's so...fucked up..."

"No one ever feels bad for me," I respond, "No one ever cares about the shit that I go through.  Why can't I be the victim?  Why can't someone lick my wounds?  Just once...fuck..."

The curse rolls off my lips but is captured almost immediately by Valentine's lips.  His lips hurt for a second when he pushes them up against me.  The rain sooths them as he presses them longer.  The cold burn between us spreads to my heart.  I can feel Valentine slope over me.  His long hair brushes against my shoulders as he captures me with the simple kiss.

All of a sudden, it just seems like everything is back to normal.  Israel can play the victim one more day because for right now, Valentine was licking my wounds and everything was ok.

Valentine whispers in my ear, "I love you Morocco.  I love your strength and I'm here for you."

 

"This is a dumb idea."

I turn to my right to see Laurence.  He looks handsome.  He has on his little leather jacket and perfectly fitting jeans that show off his ass. I know why he's mad and I also know why he's doesn't have a shirt on under that leather jacket.  It is buttoned halfway down showing off the beginning of his amazing six-pack.  

"You're saying that because all the Cavalli's are going to be there."

"No.  A joint Bachelor's party is dumb regardless."


We are in an elevator on our way up to the top suite where the Morocco and my bachelor party is going to be.  Morocco wanted this to prove to everyone that even though we broke up we are definitely back and the marriage is back to normal.

 

It has been 2 weeks since the blow out at the New York ball.  I haven't seen Israel.  Truth is a part of me worries about him.  I know I had him chopped but after seeing the kind of people he hangs out with I'm just concerned.  The Balmains were savages.  They beat me and Valentine relentlessly with no type of compassion just because Israel lost in a fucking ball, a fucking BALL.  These people took this shit entirely too serious.

 

"It's for the best.  Its also cheaper to get everyone who knows us in one place."

"Not everyone," Laurence states.

"Don't try it Laurence."

"All I'm saying is that you ruined Israel.  He's been in hiding since the ball.  He won't show his face because of embarrassment.  You and Valentine got your asses beat, so everything's back to being fair.  Why not talk to your brother again?"

"Why are you so team Israel?" I ask Laurence, "Oh yeah...the head must have been good."

"Well I was actually the one that---"Laurence starts off but stops as soon as I shoot him daggers, "Never mind.  All I'm saying is I'm not team Israel.  I'm team Morocco.  I always have and always will be.  You know why I want you guys to talk.  Because I think...deep inside you want it too.  You want to fix your relationship with Israel before it gets out of hand."

"Maybe but---"

"It's not a maybe," Laurence replies stepping closer to me, "I know you."  His voice is a cool whisper and he moves his hands up and down my face like he used to do when we were a little bit more than friends, "You can fool the others with this bullshit and this stank attitude all the time but I'm not them.  I know under all that bullshit you do, you care.  And you know one more thing Morocco?"

"What?"

"I care about you."

Laurence is giving me a stare that he's given me a million times and a million times, I feel uncomfortable with it.  A million times, I feel my heart racing as he leans just a little too close.  He presses his hands a little too firmly.  He's staring a little too long.   His lips are moist as he licks them with a quick flicker of his tongue and he stares at mine.  My lips are too dry right now and when he leans in close for a moment, I feel too ready to have him wet them.

 

Then the door opens.

 

"What the fuck?"

I turn.  Fuck! No, no, no. Valentine is standing there.  He's staring at me with a sense of unmistakable anger and disappointment.  Laurence had cleared to the other side of the elevator in record time but as I look over at Laurence's eyes his eyes betrays the intentions he just had a few seconds ago.

 

"Look I can explain?"

"You better.  After that conversation we had in the car I don't understand why you would invite Israel here without talking to me about it first."

Laurence and I exchange a glare.  For a second or two I'm relieved.  I'm relieved that Valentine didn't think anything was happening between Laurence and me.  For a minute I feel happiness that Valentine was so upset that he completely ignored how close Laurence and I were on the elevator.  However, the relief and happiness doesn't last long because it becomes clear that Israel is here.

"He wouldn't have the balls to show his face here after New York," I respond.

Unless.

Laurence's guilty eyes remain but they are now targeted at me instead of Valentine, "I invited him..."

"You did what?" I ask.

 

"Morocco---"

"No!  Fuck no.  Get out of my face!"


I'm beyond pissed at Laurence.  This was my day.  This was my day and he ruins it by inviting my annoying ass brother here.  The same fucked up brother who was responsible for getting Valentine and I jumped.

I storm away from Laurence ignoring his attempts to talk to me.  Luckily, he and Valentine seem to be getting into it and Valentine is sticking up for me.  It's been like that since the talk that Valentine and I had on the way back from the New York ball.  Valentine has been protecting me.  He's been sticking up for me.  For once in my life, someone felt like I was the innocent one and that I needed to be the wounded bird, so I let him.  I let him be aggressor with Laurence as I made my way into the Bachelor's party.

 

The party is booming.  Most of these people are people that Valentine's invited.  The Cavallis are definitely here and alive.  Even people like me who aren't in the ballroom scene are familiar with these guys.  Some of them are models, some are porn stars, some strippers, and some of them are athletes.  They all have one thing in common.  They all are the epitome of the man body...just like Valentine.  It's the reason why Laurence was so intimidated to come to this party.  Being that it's their profession to be sexy...most of them are walking around in nothing but underwear.  Long dicks and strong physiques are everywhere.  I feel like I've just walked onto a shoot of some type of body building contest.  Valentine felt like this would be a good idea.  I have no doubt that he knows a lot more people than I do.  I see a few of my friends however from the beauty shop.  Justine attempts to wave me over a few times but I put up a finger at her.  No girl...I needed to find him.

 

That's when I see him.

 

Israel.

 

He's standing there next to someone that looks familiar.  He's talking to Body Cavalli.  Body Cavalli is the father of the House of Cavalli.  He's an older man maybe in his late 40's but his body doesn't look like it. His face does definitely give away his age.  He has wrinkles around his eyes and his skin droops a little bit.  His body is flawless though.  Even with Body Cavalli wearing a sweater, his popping muscles peak thru.

 

As I walk over, I realize that this isn't exactly a pleasant conversation.

 

"I have nothing to do with what happened," Israel stated.

"I bet---" Body Cavalli is sternly looking at my brother, "Go back to Naomi and tell her that if she has a problem with House Cavalli she waits until all it's members are there.  She sends her dogs after a member of my house again and she'll see that we bite back."

Body Cavalli has almost raised Valentine.  I figured he'd be mad about New York.  Supposedly, the Balmains didn't show up to any balls since New York.  This is the first interaction that a Cavalli had with a Balmain and its clear Father Cavalli is pissed.  

 

My brother looks like he is on the verge of tears, "I wouldn't intentionally have anyone hurt Valentine...my brother or anyone else..."

There it is, my brother needing saving again.  It seems to be working on Father Cavalli too.  He softens his tone a little bit, "Listen.  I didn't mean to scream at you...it's your house I have a problem with."

I can't take it anymore.  My brother is pulling his manipulating stunt again.  I find myself walking over and disrupting this little scene as soon as I get the chance.

 

"Body I'm so sorry.  Is my brother bothering you?" I ask.

 

"I'm not bothering anyone," Israel replied, "He came to talk to me."

"Listen.  Just...tell Naomi we need to talk---ASAP," Father Cavalli tells him, with a much softer tone than he used before.

I look at my brother, "Run along now.  I have to clean up your mess---as usual."

"I need to talk to you."

"Israel,  Not Now."

Israel turns.  He clearly hasn't gotten enough attention yet from getting into an argument with the Father of House Cavalli in a middle of a room swarmed with Cavalli's.  He's lucky they don't jump him like his house did to Valentine and me.   Who am I kidding though?  Who would want to hurt innocent, meek Israel with his puppy dog eyes that always seem on the brink of tearing up?

The kid had no backbone and he never would grow one, ever.

I turn to Father Cavalli.

 

"Listen Body, I'm so sorry for what happened."

Body smiles and puts his heavy hand over my shoulder, "No need to apologize.  Listen, Valentine told me that you were the one who had his back at that ball.  I appreciate that."

Valentine must not have told him that I was the one who was responsible for getting him jumped in the first place.  I was thankful that my fiancé saved me that embarrassment.

"The Balmains are out of control," is the only response I think would suit him.

 

Body nods, "Absolutely.  But people are talking.  People are saying your brother was everything that night."

I'm shocked.

 

"Wait what?  He got chopped.  He's been in hiding.  He's scared to show his face."

Body Cavalli shrugs at that moment, "Exactly and I think for some reason everyone wants to see him even more.  I don't know.  I could be wrong.  You look upset.  You ok?"

I'm bothered.  I shouldn't be bothered at my bachelor's party.

 

"I'm fine, just nervous and happy.  Thank you guys for coming out to support Valentine and I."

"Hey, I look at Valentine as a son.  Once you guys are married, you would be part of the family.  Maybe you should even consider really being a part of the family."

"What?"

"You should consider being a Cavalli."

I laugh at the thought of it, "I would need to put on about 60 pounds of solid muscle to be a part of your house."

All of the Cavalli's seemed to weigh at least 190 pounds of solid muscle.  They look like they eat, sleep and breathe in the gym.

 

"We need to expand.  Face is the category everyone is interested in now.  Look at the Balmains.  They were a realness house that had a couple of voguers.  They need that face.  Every house needs a face."

I think about it.

It would bring me closer to Valentine if I became a Cavalli.  He desperately wanted me in his world.  However, I start thinking about the Balmains.  I start thinking about the drama they bring with them.

 

I shake my head and sneer at the idea, "Not my thing."

Body Cavalli smiles, "Fair enough.  Come.  Sit then.  Let me show you what the House of Cavalli can really bring.  Sit right here.  Don't move.  Ok."

He brings out a chair.  He sits it in the middle of the room.  I only have one idea what this could mean at a bachelor's party.  I am praying Valentine isn't around to see me get a lap dance by one of his house brothers.  My heart is racing as Body walks over to a group of shirtless, pantless boys wearing nothing but man thongs on the other side of the room.

 

"We need to talk," a voice says right after a light tap on the shoulder."

I look to my right to see none other than my brother.

"Not.  Now." I respond.

 

"Are you going to be like this forever?" Israel asks me.

 

"NOT NOW!"

Luckily, Israel is distracted by a fine ass boy.  He looks like he could be related to Valentine.  Trust me...that was a good thing.  His face isn't as mature as Valentine's.  He looks more cute in the face than sexy like Valentine does...but then you get to the body.  The boy sneaks across to the room as the other Cavalli boys join him.  Good god...this house may not be as bad as I thought it was.

 

The sexy men form a circle around me.  My mouth drops when the main stripper approaches me.  I'm talking his skin was like toasted butter.  It was smooth.  It melts over hard abs...strong pectoral muscles and a waist that is smaller than I thought possible.

His eyes follow mines as he leans forward putting on hair on his fresh cut faded hair that has been dyed blond.  He has wrinkles in his forehead and thick dark eyebrows.  

 

His house brothers chant as he approaches me.

"L-O-O-K-A-T-M-E.  You can't help but look at me.  Cavalli.  LOOK at Me!  CAVALLI."

My dick jumps as the boy grabs his huge meat pack.  He holds it firmly tugging at it a few times underneath his thin pants.  He's over me now.  He's close.  I'm just staring at his package inches away from my face and praying to god Valentine doesn't notice.  I can see the outline of his dick.  I could see the hard piece of wood resting on his outer thigh, challenging the thin fabric covering him not to rip.  I can see the veins in the fabric.  In addition, if it's not enough he begins to gyrate that thing in my face, letting his dick jump slowly...effortlessly.

 

"Oh my god..." I hear Israel stating, "You---"

The Cavalli's are chanting louder to support their brother, "L-O-O-K-A-T-M-E.  You can't help but look at me.  Cavalli.  LOOK at Me!  CAVALLI."

"Go away Israel," I tell my brother.

"Morocco.  LOOK AT HIM!"

Just then, the boy stops dancing.  He stares at Israel.  He stares at me.  

"Wait...the Mabletons?" he states.

His voice sounds familiar.  His face has changed.  His body has definitely evolved into something amazing but I notice that face.  This is the boy that broke my heart.

This is my first boyfriend.

 

Jonathan Chambers.

 

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