Chapter 9

I'm throwing up in this nice mansion. The doors are heavy when I get to the bathroom. They stay there. I'm looking at the toilet below me. I could drown in something like this. I could drown in my own sorrow.

I don't get what the fuck Lucky was trying to get out of this. He'd been mocking me all night saying little slick shit under his breath. What the fuck was he trying to gain from teasing me? I can't stand it. I knew I shouldn't have come here. I knew I shouldn't have come here with Morocco.

There is a knock on the door.

"I'll be right out," I say.

My voice is weak so I expect another knock but what I don't expect is that the door completely just open on it's own. I turn to see Valentine standing there.

"This door has a trick lock. I used to play with it all the time when I first joined Cavalli," Valentine admitted walking into the room.

"I don't want you seeing me like this," I say.

I feel like shit and I probably look like shit. I can't believe what's going on. I can't believe that I'm cornered in this room with Valentine and Morocco. Morocco is clearly on a mission and knowing my brother he wasn't going to stop until we figured it out.

Truthfully I never meant to hurt him. Truthfully I never meant to look at Valentine the way I look at Valentine. The pain swells up in me.

I shudder at the emotion.

"You look the same to me," Valentine states with a consistent tone in his voice, "Not much can change that..."

"I don't need lies right now. Even if they are nice ones."

"I'm not lying to you. I thought you knew that much about me...even if we don't know each other that well. I thought you knew that much," Valentine explains to me before crunching down next to me, "Do you mind----"

He has his hand up hoping to rub my back or ask for permission to rub my back.

I shake my head in response, "I'm fine Valentine."

Valentine looks at the ground, "No you aren't. Neither am I. We've been a mess. Since that kiss. Hell. Since before that kiss. We've both been a fuckin' mess and you can't tell me you haven't. Cause a kiss like that...isn't between one person. A kiss like that---you can't make up. A kiss like that---nope, that shit is real. You don't forget a kiss like that. It lingers."


Almost as though we could both feel it again we both touch our lips.

When I notice him doing it too I laugh a little bit, uneasily.

"When I offered to kiss you a part of me wanted to confirm that fuck...maybe I'm overexaggerating. Maybe it's the same feeling I get with everyone else," I tell him, "That's what I wanted at least. That was the plan."

"That didn't work, did it..." he asks and waits for a second. I hesitate so Valentine gently pokes at my shoulder and asks, "Did it?"

I shake my head, "Made it worse. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"You finally agree?" Valentine asks me, "Not so innocent?"

I nod and smirk gently, "Naw."

Not intentionally.

Valentine sits on the bathroom floor. He looks at the tiles above him, "Well you've done it. Whatever spell you've cast has hit it's mark. I can't stop thinking about you man. And it should be easy because I lay with someone who looks like you every night. It should be easy cause I could just pretend he's you. But when I sit there and stare I realize you two are completely different people."

"Have you ever kissed him like that?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "Never. Never. Never. That doesn't mean I don't love him though. Sometimes love is deeper than a kiss. At least that's what I'd like to believe. I love---dammit...I said something wrong didn't I?"

I hesitate. Hearing Valentine say that he loves Morocco is painful. It shouldn't be. They are engaged for godsakes but after a kiss like that for some reason it still fucking hurts.

"It's ok."

"No it's not," Valentine says shaking his head, "It won't be fair to him if we don't figure out what that kiss was. That shit man...it was..."

"Electric..."

"More than that. Lightning...thunder," Valentine emphasizes at that moment.

My fingers creep across the floor. I'd wish he was mine. If he were mine I could reach over and touch those fingers. I could stare into those green eyes every morning. I could kiss those soft pink lips that are clearly wanting to kiss mine right now. Valentine's eyes settling into mine for a minute. The passion is clear. The intention is there.

It's the action we lack.

"I want to do it again," I admit.

Valentine looks at me with a strange fear, "I don't think I can handle it again. Honestly. My heart...it...well. Listen. First things first. We need to fix this. We need to tell your brother."

"Everything?"

"Everything. When we had sex it was an honest mistake on both our ends. We swept it under the rug. That kiss. That kiss wasn't a mistake. We both wanted it. We both enjoyed it so much. And it's note even the kiss that worries me. It's the thoughts. That day I saw you at the ball. I ran off stage. I couldn't even stand when I saw you. I never had that reaction. Ain't no dude ever literally knock me off my fucking feet. I didn't know when people say they are falling someone that they really do mean that shit. For the first time in my life I damn near fell..."

"This shit is so wrong," I reply.

"Does it feel wrong?" he asks.

I shrug knowing the answer was no, "Ionno."

"When I saw you walk out there naked that night it was the most beautiful body in the world. Isn't that weird? You have the same fuckin body as Morocco but for some reason I felt like when I looked at you everything was different. It's your soul. Something deeper." Valentine draws circles with his hands and touches the muscles right above his heart, "Some deeper connection. Am I rambling? Fuck---I never talk this much----"

I knew the feeling. He's been waiting so long to talk to me about these feelings that they were all coming out at once. I'd felt the same way.

This was wrong. All wrong. It felt so right though. My stomach was tied in knots.

"We'll tell Morocco," I agree cutting him off, "We will tell him everything."

"And then what?" he asks, "That's what I worry about. What happens then?"

"You can't marry someone you don't love."

"I never said I didn't love Morocco..."

"Valentine---now you know what I mean."

Valentine looks at me hard at that moment, "Israel. I never said I didn't love Morocco. I can't just destroy him like that."

"So you having feelings for his twin brother but marrying him isn't going to destroy him?" I ask slightly confused and slightly angry out of no where.

Valentine sighs, "Listen. I don't know what this is. I haven't even figured it out. I won't marry him until I do...but I can't promise you that these feelings won't pass and that I won't be wanting that old thing back with Morocco and that I won't marry him----in the end."


"And whose to say I will stick around for you to make that decision?" I ask.

"Israel."

"No. Whose to say I will just stick the fuck around?"

Valentine thinks for a minute and his answer angers me even more, "I won't blame you."

It's almost as though he's given up. It's almost as though he doesn't want these feelings for me at all. He ignites these emotions that are between us and decides to only let me burn.

I nod steadily but weak none-the-less, "I'll tell Morocco. Tonight. Then you can go off. Marry him if you'd like..."

He looks at me for a minute. Valentine's eyes press against me. He's eager to stop me as I get up from my crouching position. He grabs me. An attempt to look into my eyes seems to be the most awkward feeling that either of us had ever really faced.

I walk out of the bathroom at that moment.

And he's standing there.

"Morocco."

My mouth drops.

I don't know how to react to this. Morocco is sitting outside of the bathroom. How much had he heard between Valentine and I? He's sitting there in tears and I don't know how to react. I turn to my right looking at Valentine. Valentine staggers to the door confused on why I stopped midway through the threshold.

By the time Valentine gets to the door his mouth drops.

My brother is sitting outside of the doorway. Tears are in his eyes.

"Morocco..." Valentine states.

That's all he says. Morocco is tearing up. I've never seen a side of him like this before. I don't know how to respond to my brother tearing up all of a sudden. He looks broken. That is the only goddam way to describe it. The boy looks completely torn up and distressed.

Seconds past. Silence. I take a step out of the threshold. A part of me wants to run out of here as fast as I can. A part of me wants to apologize. I'm not sure when he is going to flip and try to kill me.

"I can't believe this..." Morocco starts off before looking down at the floor seeming to search for answers, "I'm..."


For the first time ever Morocco doesn't respond. He is crying. He's weak. He's emotional. I never thought I would see my strong, outspoken brother in the state that he is in right now.

I say, "Sorry."

It's the only thing that can come out at that moment. He doesn't respond. For a moment I don't think he even hears it. He's so stuck in his own mind.

Valentine is the one who responds to me, "Maybe you should leave..."

"Maybe you're right."

"I'll take him home. I'll talk to him."

"Sure."

Valentine's face shows a sense of fear and confusion at Morocco's reaction just like me. He nods as though letting me know it's ok to walk away.

And I do. I walk away.

"Get...INTO...His...Motherfucking...everlasting...always sitting... CARRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTAAA!"

The commentator lives for me.

The cheers live for me.

I don't walk the next ball the following night. I storm the ball. My face has never sat higher. My eyes have never looked stronger. There was a confidence that I had when I was on that stage that was undeniable. It didn't matter that emotionally I was confused with Valentine, it didn't matter that Morocco would probably hate me forever either or even that my life was so uncertain now. Right now I was Israel Balmain and I was a force to be reckoned.

I walk up. I go face to face with all the judges. I smile. I let them see my pearly whites. I define my jaw structure. I'm so sure of myself. Yes. Israel Balmain.

"Have you ever seen someone so beautiful?" I demand in front of the judges.

Some grimace at how upfront I am. Others smile at my audacity. I could care less what the reaction is. I am presenting them a face of a God right now. I am presenting them a confidence of a king.

"10s...Across the board! Anybody else?"

There is a group of boys at the back of the runway that were about to walk. They stare at me...stonefaced. Not one of them dares to step on that stage after I went. They don't want the competition.

"Grand prize...Balmain!"

After I walk I'm received by cheers at the Balmain table at the ball. This ball is by Deidre Domino from the House of Domino. The House of Domino is a fashion house and really respected in the ballroom scene. Across the way I do see the Cavalli table as well as other major houses. I don't see Valentine at the Cavalli table even though I look, so I settling down at the Balmain table quietly. I've returned to myself smiling gently at people who walk by to congratulate me. They all introduce themselves one a time telling me their names and what houses they are in. I smile, humbly...and can tell they are surprised that my character is so different when I'm not on the stage.

The Balmain table is loud...flamboyant. I can tell that they are taking a sense of pride to the fact that one of their own just won a major category. There are a lot of us at this ball compared to the others. Naomi isn't there. She hasn't been at a couple of balls so far and I don't really understand it. Chaos is there of course. So is Cha Cha and Yvonne. There is a table full of other Balmains.

I'm looking at my phone. All the celebration going around me and I can't even pretend to focus on what the fuck is going on.

"You should be celebrating," Chaos states.

Every part of me wants to roll my eyes at Chaos. He's always in my goddam business especially since Naomi has been missing from the last couple of balls. Cha Cha gives me a sly smile. I've been able to confide in only her and she knows about what happened at the Cavalli mansion.

"I'm happy I won...just...there's other things."

"Baby listen," he responds, "There is nothing more important than the ball. You understand. You are Cinderella and your wicked step brother doesn't get that glass slipper. Not here at least."

The way he talks to me. It's this sense of knowing. It's almost like he knows why I am in my phone. He knows that I'm considering reaching out to Morocco and talking about the issues that we had.

But how?

"Who told you?"

"Don't matter. Nope. You did the right thing. It's a cruel world out there," Chaos laughs followed by laughter by Little Patrick Balmain and Hollywood Balmain. I'm not surprised those two are following up with him. They both walk the realness category and both look like straight thugs. I heard Chaos met them in jail and ever since then the two follow him around acting like his muscle whenever he needs things done.

"This is personal Chaos," I respond, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Few can talk to Chaos like that. A lot of scared. A part of me isn't. I am used to not speaking what is on my mind but Chaos has a way of pushing you to just get annoyed. He gives me this knowing stare almost like he's not what-so-ever impressed.

"What's personal about it?"

"Family issues."

"You are Balmain, Israel. We are your family now. So what. You slept with your brother's boyfriend. You are a Balmain, again. We take what we want. No regrets."

He is bold and he announces it at the table. I can hear others at the table nod in a sense of agreement. Hollywood snorts in laughter. Yvonne coyly smiles with a sense of pride. You would think that the Balmains actually was a house that won. That just wasn't the case. Not much. The Dominos, Cavallis, McQueen and the Xtremes were the top houses in Philly. They won balls. The Balmains had a couple of top people. Naomi was the only legend and Chaos may have bullied his way to a couple of wins. Besides them and me of course...we were the only ones winning these categories. A few people carried the entire house on it's back.

I wonder if Chaos knew that. Maybe that's why he's getting in my business in the way he is.

"Who told you about what happened between me and my brother?"

"Don't matter."

"Chaos..."

"Listen...I'm running this house soon. Listen to me. The Cavalli's are not your fuckin friends. They've been plotting against you to recruit your brother. What you did was great. You destroy your brother. And we'll follow up and DESTROY the House of Cavalli. Plain and simple."

His words are full of malice. It's clear he's plotting.

"Excuse me."


I get up. I want to argue but Chaos is outspoken, loud and ignorant. There was no winning an argument with Chaos especially when Little Patrick and Hollywood were around. I wasn't going to get involved. I can hear Chaos laughing as I walk away from the table.

I'm shaken. A part of me is confused. Chaos has always been overseer but him saying that he was going to run the house meant something different.

What was Chaos aiming at?


I make my way out of the ball, clearly bothered by what Chaos is saying and head out onto the street. I stand on the street corner hoping to see if there are any taxi's near by. I'm still playing with my phone and it's so cold that my fingertips freeze just from holding it up.

"You need a ride?"

I turn to my right to see Lucky Cavalli.

He pulls up in a decent looking Impala. It's not some fancy car but truthfully when I look at him I know that it would be a better option than standing around freezing my ass off or spending some of my prize money on a goddam taxi.

I jump in smiling and thanking him with a casual, "Thanks..." before closing the door.

"Where to?"

"What?"

"Where to? Unless you want me to take you back to my place," Lucky Cavalli states giving me a flirtacious wink, "I'll have no problem with that either...by the way."

"Um...South Philly. I'll plug it into my GPS."

I've been staying with Cha Cha Balmain for the past week. I've been saving my prize money but I knew I'd have to get a normal job soon. Prize money was great but it went fast, especially since I used the money to buy clothing and effects for the next balls.

After plugging it into the GPS I take a look at my phone for a second...hesitantly put it down.

"You slayed today," Lucky tells me.

"Say what?"

"You slayed. The ball. Damn boy...you're out of it...aren't you?" Lucky continues.

I shrug, "Just having some family issues man."

I've been feeling like shit since Morocco found out about Valentine and I. It would have felt so much better if he had gone off on me. At least if he had smacked me I could have had a reason to be mad. If he had threatened my life or hell...even attempted to take my life, I'd have something to distract from the pain. Just seeing Morocco in tears like that.

Fuck. I'd fucked up and I think this time I may have fucked up beyond repair.

"Yeah Morocco's been tripping since he found out about you and Valentine huh?" he explains.

"He overheard us."

"It was necessary," Lucky explains to me, "Valentine should have never put you in that position. If you were my dude. I would have told Morocco asap. I would have told him,listen...Morocco. It's not working out. I fuck with Israel. Period. Point blank. Kick rocks..."

"Oh like you did when we were kids?"

"Keyword there---kids," Lucky responds cockily before leaning back, "I'm a grown man now. More mature and a lot bigger. You want me to pull down my pants so you can see?"

"I'll pass right now."

"Ha. Ok. Cause that dick will definitely let you know that I'm not the boy I used to be," Lucky responds smoothly before leaning back in the car a little bit, "Besides everything worked out. You are destroying these balls. Fuck the Cavalli's for even trying to recruit Morocco. They wouldn't give a fuck about him if you weren't poppin like you are."

I'm confused as shit.

"Ain't that your house?"

"Not for long. Been feeding info to Chaos about the Cavalli's for weeks now. Balmains are on the come up because of you. They plan on being House of the Year. Take the crown from the Cavalli's."

Chaos was plotting but then it occurred to me. Shit. This motherfucker sitting next to me was a goddam snake.

"So it was you the whole time? You were the one who told Chaos what happened at Body's house."

"Of course."

He says it like he should have a sense of pride.

I roll my eyes, "Man that's shady. Isn't Cavalli like your house? They should be like your family. Why are you going around feeding info to a rival house?"

"You should be happy. I did it for you."

"For me?"

"Of course. Valentine ain't shit. Neither is your brother. Morocco is a pompous little bitch. That dude really thinks he's the shit. You should have seen his face when I told him that the love of his life was actually in love with his brother."

I let out a gasp, "You did what?"

Morocco was no angel but the fact that Lucky Cavalli is sitting here with a snide little smirk on his face just is ironic after calling Morocco pompous.

"I did it for you."

I'm shocked.

"You told on me---for me?"

He grabs my hand at that moment as though comforting me before turning towards me and giving me a smile, "Don't think of it that way. I was just trying to let you know Valentine won't take your side. He's around with Morocco. Ain't he? And here I am. I'm here for you. Always have been. A dude done grown up. I tell you. I'm a big boy now. I told you I can show you. I can show you how much of a big boy I am..."

"A big boy huh?" I ask, falsely seductive.

He smiles triumphantly almost like he won some type of battle, "Yeah. I told you I changed. I done grown up. I can show you...I can show you sexy..."

He lowers my hands in his pants at that moment as he drives. It's all he wanted me to do since I got in his car. Down his pants I can feel his growth. He's already hard for whatever reason. His dick has to be a good 8 inches.

I can't believe this motherfucker. I can't believe that he TOLD Morocco what happened before I got the chance to tell Morocco. Not only that he but he kept inserting himself into my life by telling my business to Chaos of all people.

I should have known. Regardless of Jonathan Chambers changed his name to Lucky...he was still that sneaky motherfucker stealing kisses from me when I wasn't looking.

"Big man. Huh? Such a big man now," I tell him.

I play with his balls. I pull his dick out. It's huge. He lets out a soft moan when I cup the shaft of his dick. He puts one hand on the wheel. Another hand on my back.

"I knew this is what you wanted," He replies cockily, "Even back then when I kissed you. It's all good now. I'll protect you from Morocco. I got your back. I knew you always wanted me. There it is. Take that shit. It's yours."

The nerve of this dude. All these years he put a rift between Morocco and I. Instead of owning up to anything he's back to cause even more trouble.

"Mhmm...ok..." I tell him.

I go down on him in the car. My mouth on his dick. I slurp up and down the 8 inch dick. His shaft is throbbing as I suck on his dick. He puts both hands on the wheels struggling to focus at that moment.

"Fuck...damn...suck that dick little daddy."

I play with the head slowly rubbing my teeth against it making him moan even a little bit more. I take the shaft all the way down into my mouth.

And then I bite the fuck out of him.

"FUCK!"

Lucky swerves at that moment, pushing me off of him and almost hitting a tree. His car makes several turns until it finally comes to a stop in the middle of someone's lawn in South Philly.

He looks at me shocked. Maybe he thought I was that same idiot little boy who let my brother take the fall for something he did back in the day. Maybe he thought I was just that stupid fool who just needed protection. Lucky Cavalli had no idea what I was becoming but when he looks down at his bleeding dick I can tell that he just had a taste of it.

"Don't ever fucking try to start shit in my family again you hear me?" I warn him.

"Bitch I should beat the fuck out of you. YOU just BIT MY DICK!"

I show him my face.

"Do it. I dare you. I'll have a gang of insane Balmains on your ass in no fucking time," I tell him presenting him my face better than I would at a ball, "DO IT! That's what I thought. Pussy."

I walk out of his car slamming the door behind him as Lucky is in his car crying over the painful bite mark I left on his dick.

I'm walking but there is a fire inside of me. I'm changing. It's not just the ballroom scene. I'm changing everywhere and that fire inside of me. It's burning hotter than ever. And as I walk through the streets of Philadelphia...that fire keeps me warm.

The phone rings just two blocks away from the hospital.

I look at my phone. I don't recognize the number.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hey...sorry to disturb you."

"Who is this?" I ask.

"Laurence."

Now why the fuck would Laurence be calling me?

A part of me feels like I know what this is about. It's no doubt that Morocco must have told him what happened. Laurence watched over Morocco like his goddam guard dog. Maybe I deserved to be chewed out. Maybe I deserved to be cursed out but that shit wasn't going to happen. It wasn't going to happen to me...not today at least.

"Listen. I don't got time deal with no shit," I warn him clearly, "If Morocco wants to go off, he never had no fucking issue doing it before. I'll listen. I won't say a goddam thing. But listen good. I don't got it in me to deal with no FAG bullshit. I don't need a middle man. So let me tell you this Laurence. Be very careful about the next fucking words that come out of your mouth..."

The threat is clear. Yeah. I just bit a man off and I was now threatening a man probably twice my size. That fire was most definitely blazing.

"I didn't call you to start no shit," Laurence states, "I think you should know. Something...happened."

"What?"

"Your brother. Whatever happened between the two of you got to him. I walked into our apartment and I found Morocco in a tub. He slit his wrists..."

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