Date: Fri, 3 Jan 2003 16:18:37 EST
From: JuilianJ@aol.com
Subject: the story of us part 1, relationships/interacial

THE STORY OF US
BY: Julien

This story is 100% fictional and is by no means depictive of the life of
any person, place or thing.  It contains sexual activities between males
and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area.  Read at your
own risk and enjoy.  Comments are welcomed and would be very much
appreciated.  ENJOY!

There will be many flashback sequences in this story so as not to confuse
anyone, when a flashback takes place, there will be an asterisk (*) before
the start of that flashback.


"Mr. Knight do you have a statement for the press about the recent
allegations made against you?"

"Mr. Knight is it true that you are the father of the fifteen month old
baby of Clarice Patricks?"

"Mr. Knight can you confirm or deny the statements made in the Enquirer
about your latest liaison?"

"Mr. Knight, Mr., Knight, Mr. Knight."

Finally his publicist spoke up,

"Mr. Knight has no statement for the press at this time, thank you."

And with that he ushered Robert Knight into the waiting limo leaving behind
a hoard of media and fans alike.

I knew Bobby before all of this fiasco.  Before the lawsuits, before the
media attention, before the fame.  I knew him when he was just like
everyone else.  When he had time for his friends and his family, when he
had time for me.  Before his career as an R&B superstar took off Robert and
I had been the best of friends.  If you ask him, he will say that we are
still the best of friends but you would never have guessed by the way his
manager, his publicist, his entourage and the likes treated me.  It was as
if I were the lone white boy in this black Mecca and an annoyance.  I had
started to feel that way long before this but it had never gotten to the
point where I just wanted out.

"Richie come here, look at this man, number three on the charts.  What I
tell you."

"I knew you could do it.  That single was destined for gold."

And even though I had to push him to go against the advice of his publicist
to put it out, I received no credit.

"Yeah, it's the break I've been waiting for man.  This is the hit that's
gonna make me cross over into white America.  These kids are gonna eat it
up."

And I knew they would.  Not only was his voice the smoothest there was out
there, his face and body were enough to propel sales of his newest album
into platinum status in only five months.

"Yes they will.  What these white girls won't do to get a piece of Robert
Knight, their own taste of chocolate."  I turned to see his publicist Ernie
Mateo hovering over a table.

"I hope so.  These media pricks are trying to screw me anyway they can.
Where they come up with these stories is beyond me."

I wanted to shake him and tell him that it was the crowd he ran with but
instead stuck my head back into the newspaper article he had showed me.

"Richie why don't you make yourself useful and go get the boys some
lunch. Ham on Rye good for you Bobby?"

"I'm not all that hungry Ernie."

"Well I am.  Here's a fifty, find out what everyone else wants and when you
get back check with Frankie, I think he has some forms for you to pick up."
"Anything else?" I asked in my most annoyed tone, something that seemed
lost on Bobby.

"Yeah, adjust that tone.  You don't have to be here.  A lot of guys would
love to be in your position so don't think you're irreplaceable." He
growled.

This time Bobby did look up, "Lay off Ernie."

"What!  He thinks he can come in here and do any fucking thing he wants."

Bobby pulled him down and whispered something into his ear that made him
get angrier but instead of lashing out, he walked out.

"He's just upset about the shit that the press is saying.  He thinks it
might have a negative effect on my career."

"And his salary."

"That too." He chuckled giving me a rare opportunity to see that smile and
boy did I enjoy it!  Times like this seemed to be so few and far apart.

"I should get going, don't want to keep the guys waiting."

"He didn't mean it like that Richie."

"Whatever you say Bobby, whatever you say."

* We had been in the same high school for two years and still hadn't known
that the other existed.  I had my clique and he had his, not to mention
that our backgrounds were as different as night and day.  I came from a
well to do religious family that tried to keep me under their thumb as long
as they could.  All I ever did was go to school, go to church and read my
bible.  Not much of a life but how could you want what you never had or
experienced.  I was used to this lifestyle, it was in grown in me and I
didn't think anything was wrong with it until I met Bobby.

When I said that I had my own clique and he had his, what I meant was that
I had my own clique consisting of me, my brother and my two older cousins,
none of whom had any interest in the spiritual side of life so I was pretty
much by myself in that department.  Meeting Bobby changed my life
perspective completely and set me on a path that even today I had never
regretted.

Third period was over and I had been on my way over to the cafeteria when I
heard the sweetest sound I could ever imagine (not even in church did music
sound this good!).  I followed it into the music hall where I was first to
lay eyes on him.  He stood tall, well over six foot, eyes closed and chest
heaving, singing his heart out to Michael Jackson's' 'BEN'.  And even as he
brought the song to a close, I could still feel his voice vibrating around
the room.  When he finished he opened his eyes, walked over to the tape
player and shut off the background music.  Before I could stop myself I
said,

"You sound good!"

He turned to look at me.

"Thanks, been practicing for a month now, you know, for that talent show
Saturday night down at Blue's Hut."

"Where?"

"That jazz club two blocks from the state penn, you know, the one that's
been drawing all the attention cause of the shooting incident."

I was still unsure of where it was but pretended as if I had heard of it.

"Oh yeah, that club!"

He could see right through me though, "You have no idea what I'm talking
about do you?"

Sheepishly I admitted my naivety.

"It's cool.  Not a lot of kids know about that place, it's not a high
school hot spot if you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

I watched as he put on his leather coat and then his bag pack, I'm sure,
getting ready to leave.  And I found myself drawn to him, not wanting to
see him go as yet.

"So when is this talent show?"  I knew he had already told me but I wanted
to hear that voice again.

"Saturday night.  You want in?"

"Yes!" I answered a little too desperately which prompted him to laugh.

"Wait a minute, aren't you one of those bible kids that hang outside
classes passing out pamphlets?"

"No."

"Yeah man, I recognize you.  I swear to God, the first day I came here you
tried to convert me to Mormon, I'm sure that was you."

If I had met him before, I think I would have remembered.

"It wasn't me." I said defensively for some reason, not wanting him to be
disgusted with my sanctimonious ways.

"It's ok, I don't care how you get high.  I think it's kinda cool that you
stand up for what you believe in.  It's like what I'm doing on Saturday.
My pops don't want me to have nothing to do with singing but I like it and
I'm gonna make it a career, know what I mean?"

"Yeah.  I think you have what it takes too.  Even in church they don't
sound that good."

"Yeah?  Well if you think that was good you should come to the show
Saturday night. There's gonna be a whole lotta people up there trying to
win the top prize."

"I think you're gonna win."

"I hope so."

With that he turned to walk out the door only stopping briefly to ask my
name.

"Richard Lyn but my friends call me Richie."

"Nice to meet you Richie, my friends call me Bobby, I'll look out for you
Saturday."

"Ok." I managed to get out as he walked out the door and made a left


I had been in bed reading another article on the Bobby/Clarice scandal when
my telephone rang.

"Hello."

"Hey there baby, been missing me?"

And the voice that used to turn me on so much was now becoming an added
inconvenience.

"Not really Michael.  What do you want, it's after twelve."

"Just wanted to call my favorite person in the world and find out how he
was doing."

"And I turned straight overnight, what can I do for you."

He sighed, sensing that I was tiring from this game, "Ok, I just called to
find out if...and promise you won't get mad."

"What, just spit it out dammit,"

"I just wanted to know if you could get me an autographed copy of the new
Robert Knight C.D.  I know he's your best friend in the world and I know
you can do this small favor for your ex, please Richie?"

"And what makes you think that I can just walk up to him and get an
autographed C.D. for you?  Don't you know that I'm just a lowly assistant
to your Hein ness."

"Bullshit Ritchie and you know it.  You're practically his right hand man
and for the record, I think you make a much better publicist than that
jelly belly he has working for him now."

"Thanks."

"You're welcomed.  Does this mean you'll do this for me?"

"Have I ever turned you down Michael Mason?"

"Not in a million years or for a million bucks.  I'll call you tomorrow.
Sweet dreams lover."

"And only in your dreams."  And I hung up the phone with his laughter still
ringing in my ear.

The history between me and Michael span over a decade but our
'relationship' or attempt at it only began two years ago and what a
disaster it had been.  So many broken promises and mistrust broke up a good
friendship and was reduced to a phone call once every other month if I was
lucky or if he was looking for free merchandise.  And even though Michael
and I were never going to reach that level again, the time I had spent
telling him about Bobby were priceless.  A bad lover he had been but what
he lacked in the bedroom, he made up in the countless hours spent listening
to me gripe about Bobby this and Bobby that.  And even though we would
never be bosom buddies - EVER, I knew that if the need did arise, I would
have an ear in Michael.