Date: Fri, 23 May 2003 18:30:42 -0600 From: Mike Daly Subject: standing-in-shadows-01 Disclaimer: I do NOT know any member of *NSync. I did not write any of the songs included in this story. This is a purely fictional story, and any character resemblance is purely coincidental. Either that or I'm a really good psychic, and I charge 100 bucks a session. Feel free to comment about this story: xtatyc@earthlink.net This story is already outlined and plotted, so suggestions will be appreciated, but probably ignored. Enjoy. Standing In Shadows Chapter One Alex squinted through the flood of brightness as the spotlight engulfed him, his eyes frantically searching the crowd. Tonight was a busy night for the `Spider's Den.' About fifty people sat around the room, gazing at him expectantly. The large crowd didn't faze the nineteen year old. He was used to performing on this stage. Making frequent appearances at the karaoke bar, Alex soon became the crowd favorite, and business and the general atmosphere in the smoke crusted den usually suffered when he wasn't there. Alex's eyes finally spotted his target, another regular of the club, but one who didn't sing. The twentyish guy sat alone again at the back of the place, lost in the shadows. His brown hair under a Mets cap, a George Michael five o'clock shadow covering his alabaster skin. Every once in a while, a light would catch his face and his emerald eyes shown like twin suns. Alex first noticed the guy about a month ago, sipping on a hard lemonade. He sat beside a huge bodybuilder type, but a silence hung between the two. Not a word was spoken. The preppy kid just sipped on his drink, staring at the crowd. The bodybuilder type just sat there, looking bored. The guy attended the bar religiously; after a couple of weeks, he started coming alone, but still, not talking, not singing, not engaging in the festivities. Alex began to think of him as his lucky charm. He always looked for him, and performed beautifully after spotting him. Lester, the owner of the `Spider's Den,' pointed out to Alex one day that the man in the hat probably came only for his performance; he left soon afterwards. Because of this, Alex usually went onstage late in the night. He would sit in the far corner near the stage, watching the man watch the action happen. Alex loved this, looked forward to it every night. In the crowded bar, he could get lost within his imagination, let his dreams go wandering free, which frequently included the man in the hat. Tonight was different, though. Tonight, Alex was going to pounce. He was tired of living in fantasy land. Obviously, he was intrigued by the man; obviously, the man felt the same for him. Tonight Alex jumped onstage first, much to the delight of the crowd. The man in the hat looked startled, looking up from his drink. Their eyes met for the first time, and Alex couldn't look away. `Burning suns, never,' he thought to himself. `Those eyes are going supernova.' Someone in the crowd coughed, breaking Alex's concentration. He blinked, and the man looked away. A moment lost. Alex scanned the room, saw the crowd staring at him expectantly. "Tonight, ladies and men," he began, loving this moment of working the crowd the most. "Tonight, I will bring you a performance filled with passion and lust filled desire." Pause for the whistles and cat calls. The crowd was loving him tonight. The man, though, only stared at his drink. "Tonight, I dedicate this song to my lucky charm." A silence filled the club, then some nervous laughter. The dedication caught the attention of the man, though, and Alex smiled to himself. "Yes, ladies and men. My lucky charm. It's the reason I perform for you every night. It gives me the courage to get up on stage every night. I was lost before I found it about a month ago under a dingy mets cap." The man looked up, and the eyes locked again. This time, Alex smiled. The man glanced down again. From the rest of the room, laughter. The crowd thought it was another fanciful story of his. `Perhaps it is,' Alex thought as the music started. `We'll soon find out.' "Swaying room as the music starts. Strangers making the most of the dark. Two by two their bodies become one." Alex closed his eyes as he began to perform, blocking out the crowd, performance for one, only one. His left hand gripped the mic stand steady as his lanky six foot frame began to slowly gyrate against the pole. His right hand started to explore his body, carassing his hard nipples and brushng the treasure trail on his exposed rock-hard torso. Alex lost himself as the music played, letting the haunting melodies wash over him, embracing him into the private world where only he mattered. * * * * * "That was your best performance, ever, Alex," Lester gave the boy an evil smile. "Somebody's going to get lucky tonight, my friend." The bar owner's eyes traveled up and down over the boy's slight but muscular frame. A half-cut, faded "Hair" T-shirt was falling off his silky smooth shoulders. The tight jeans showcased his long legs beautifully. Lester didn't even bother wiping the drool out of his thick, course beard. Alex looked away from the stocky man and glanced towards the back of the room. He heaved a quiet sigh as he discovered the table was empty, the hard lemonade half finished. He closed his eyes before replying to Lester. "Maybe, Les. Maybe " Lester started rubbing his protruding belly. "There's no maybes about it, kid. If you don't find anyone, then I'll be glad to warm your bed." Alex smiled. "Thanks, Les. A very tempting offer. One that I might have to take up." Alex spread his legs a little more, putting the right one on the empty chair, streaching his legs, almost sending Lester over the edge. "Hell, Alex, why wait. My room's empty right now and we could. . ." A shadow came across them, causing Lester to pause. Alex turned his attention to the newcomer and saw the man in the Mets cap. His blue eyes started to dance wildly. "Am I interrupting anything?" a deep voice asked, silky smooth with a hint of the deep south in it. The man looked a little apprehensive at the scene before him, a drooling forty year old man and a provocative young lad, showing off everything he has. "Definately not." Alex smiled. Lester looked flabbergasted, but before his could open his mouth, Alex turned to him. "Good bye, Les. I'll have to get a rain check on your offer." Lester's mouth opened, then shut hard. He stormed off toward the stage, muttering violently. Alex turned back to the new visitor. "Please, have a seat." He motioned towards the chair his foot still rested on. The man's eyes focused on the chair, then slowly moved along the leg, studying it. With a quick glance, Alex noticed this man's aroused state, and he could barely contain his glee. Unfortunately, the man appeared more nervous and began to back away. "Perhaps this was a mistake." Alex dropped his leg and stood up, the ripped shirt falling even more, exposing a nipple. The ring attached caught a shimmer of light, drawing attention to it. The man stopped backing up. Alex took this momentas his only opportunity. It probably was. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came on to strong. Let's start over, ok?" Alex extended his hand. "My name's Alex." The man glanced at the hand then to the face. Hesitantly, he extended his hand a well. "James. I'm James." "Nice to meet you James." Noticing that he was still uncomfortable, Alex went on further. "Hey look, this place it kinda crowded. Not a good place to get to know each other. What do you say we head out of here? Go some place quieter. It's still early. Coffee?" James smiled. "That would be nice, Alex. Thanks." * * * * * The night was burning away, and Alex never had a more wonderful time. James was a fascinating man, from Mississippi, but his job took him accross the U.S. They spent the night talking about the wild adventures James had. The all-nite coffee shop in SoHo saw it's night rush come and go, the late night rush come and go, and now, it was just the two of them. A sleeping clerk sat behind the countertop. Alex could not remember ever having a night like this. Just sitting down, quietly talking, sipping tea and coffee, enjoying the company. Becoming friends. But he couldn't afford to have too many nights like this. Rent was due in a week, and Alex was broke. He sighed, glancing at his watch. 3:30. Back to work. James heard the sigh and saw the glance at the time. "Sorry," he said, looking at the time himself. "I must be boring you, talking about myself this whole time. I never seem to know when to shut up." Alex saw the crestfallen look on James's face. "It's not that, James. I love talking with you. I really do." James's face lit up with a smile that flooded Alex with a feeling he never felt before. A tingling warmth began to spread, and Alex tried unsuccessfully to shake off the feeling. "It's just getting really late, and I need to go. Things to do, people to see." James smiled. "At 3:30 in the morning?" James looked a little nervous, but very resolved. "Hey, I have an idea. I'm a little tired myself, but I've been having the greatest night of my life talking with you. I'd hate to see it end. Wanna come back to my place? We could find out about you, now that you've heard all about me." Alex gave a half-hearted smile. "You don't want to know about me, James." James looked confused. "Oh course I do, Alex. And if your uncomfortable, I swear, I'm the perfect Southern Gentleman. Just talk." Alex began to laugh. "Yeah, that's what I thought, James. That's why I have to go. I have to go to work now." James looked more confused and a little bit angry. "Work? At 3 in the morning? Come on Alex, I'm not that naive. If you want to blow me off, just say so." He angrilly go up and grabbed his jacket, preparing to leave. Alex didn't want it to end this way. "James, wait." He got up, too, grabbing James arm. "Look, I really like you, I do, but . . ." James finished for him, tearing his arm away from Alex's grasp. "You have to go to work, now. Fine." Alex gave an angry, primal yell, waking the clerk from his light slumber. "Do you want me to go back with you? Do you really? Fine! It's 500 bucks a night, you know!" "W-w-what?" James look stunned, but Alex said nothing. He just stared at the floor, shuffling is feet. It took a moment for James to process everything, but eventually everything clicked. "You're a prostitute." No reply. "But. . . I. . ." James shut up. trying to comprehend what just happened. Alex looked up and became heartbroken after seeing the look of anguish on James's face. Finally James spoke. "I thought we were connecting. The first time in a long time. And you were just trying to pick me up. God, I'm so stupid." Alex looked down again. "Look, I never meant to mislead you. I really do like you, want to get to know you. That's why I didn't want to go back with you. I want this to mean something." James scoffed. "There is no this, Alex. Never was." He went over to the door, yanking it open. Before Alex could follow him out, a black SUV came to the front of the coffee shop, and James got in. Alex looked puzzled. Someone was waiting for James outside, for all this time. But Alex didn't have a chance to ponder this development any longer, for the clerk cleared his throat. Alex looked over. "Look, I have to close up for a while to clean everything up." Alex nodded. The clerk was a slim Hispanic, barely old enough to work the night shift. Had a slight build to him. And he was growing in places. "How much is it for an hour?" Alex gave a half hearted smile. Back to work. * * * * * To Be Continued.