Date: Mon, 6 Jan 2003 11:56:55 EST
From: JuilianJ@aol.com
Subject: the story of us part 3

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.

I stayed through the entire show and as always was in awe at his talent.
Not only was his voice taking the crowd to a whole new level, his stage
presence was one that could not be denied.  I could have sworn that I saw a
young lady throw her underwear on the stage.  The audience was really
feeling his music and sang to every one of his songs word for word.

I on the other hand watched him from my quiet corner at the side of the
stage.  I couldn't help but study his profile as his lips moved and brought
me to ecstasy and not for the first time, I had to catch myself remembering
where I was.  It was times like these I wished I had Michael by my side.
He had gotten his autographed CD and had called once too many to say thank
you.

"You're a sweetheart, you know that?"

"That's what you keep saying."

He sighed then to my shock and utter surprise continued with, "I know that
I royally fucked up a good friendship with my...bullshit, but I really did
love you."

"I know."

"Well you don't sound convinced."

"Why should I be Michael?  The only time you ever call is when you want
something from me.  I mean look at our 'relationship'.  All you ever did
with that was take take take."

"I know and I'm sorry.  I know how hurt you were and I know that sometimes
I can be an asshole but I don't mean to be.  You know that Richie, don't
you?"

"I guess but it doesn't matter anymore."

"I guess it doesn't.  You know if you give yourself a chance, you can find
somebody that will treat you better than I ever could."

"And where might this MR wonderful be hiding out?"

"Who knows, he might be in your own backyard."  And with that he had hung
up leaving me with more doubt than I had began with.  That was Michael for
you.  Always the one to create the problems.  And even though I knew all
this, somewhere deep inside me yearned to have him beside me, have him
touching me, making me feel wanted and secure.  I wanted him here to
replace my misplaced feelings for Bobby because I knew that if this were to
continue like this, I would lose another friendship greater than the first
and possible my livelihood.

Intermission was just beginning and Bobby was trying to change clothes,
freshen up and grab a bite to eat all at the same time.

"Where the fuck is that... there you are.  What happened to that sandwich I
asked for half an hour ago?"  Ernie screamed at me causing the room to get
quiet and everyone's attention to be turned unto me.

I was embarrassed as hell and tried to keep my blushing down to a minimum.

"I ordered it but it's stuck in traffic, outside is a mess with all that
rain and..."

"And nothing.  He goes back on in fifteen minutes and he has no goddamn
food in his stomach.  You should have ordered that shit when you were told
to."

And even though I did just that I wasn't going to waste my time and grace
him with an answer.  Bobby sat on the edge of a table listening to this
exchange between us and not saying a word.  His inaction caused great
annoyance within me and had me seething.  He could be like that sometimes,
one minute ready to fight at my defense, the next, pretending to be an
innocent bystander while his 'best friend' was reduced to nothing but shit.
At times like these I felt like our friendship was being compromised and
that his career took center stage to our relationship.  And it forced me to
think about life after this, after Bobby.  It took me less than half a year
to be demoted from his manger to his publicist and even less time to go
from his publicist to his assistant.  And it made me wonder what the next
few months would bring.  It was like a game of how low could you go with me
stuck under the limbo bar.

"You were great man."  Greg his manager chided patting him on the back as
he walked off stage after a third and final bow.

"Thanks, I felt good man.  I was feeling the crowd and I know they were
feeling me."

"Good.  You sold out tonight bro.  Completely sold out.  We even had a
couple of celebs in the house."

"Yeah, I saw that chick from Bay watch."

"Now wouldn't you like to fuck that?"  Ernie chided in.

"You damn right I would."

And another thing that was changing about Bobby was his attitude towards
women.  Never one to be involved in women rights and all that, he used to
hold a certain respect for them especially since he had had a very close
relationship with his now deceased mother.  He never said anything out of
term about them or tried to degrade them in anyway but since hooking up
with Ernie and the like, he was like a pimp in his element.  And it made me
wonder if the Clarice scandal could have been true.

"I swear just two nights ago in Philly a girl was bribing me five hundred
just to let her in the backdoor in hopes of blowing you."

Bobby laughed at that and asked Ernie what stopped him.

"She was way too busy on a brothers' jock." He replied making lewd motions
with his mid section, an action that almost caused me to throw up my lunch.
The thought that any self-respecting girl would want to fuck much less blow
Ernie was inconceivable.

"Though you wouldn't know bout that would you Richie." He said putting
emphasis on my name.

"I guess I wouldn't."

"Not with being a faggot and all..."

"Hey Ernie, lay off."

"What Bobby, I'm just calling it as it is.  You better watch yourself
around him, or he might end up blowing you in your sleep."

"Whatever man, just go deal with media will you."

Ernie held up his hands in defense and began laughing walking in the
direction of the door.  When he was out of sight and earshot, Bobby
apologized.

"Forget it!" I declared highly annoyed at the moment.

"You need to chill Richie or the guys won't like you.  Sometimes I think
that you purposely try to separate yourself from the group."

"First off Bobby I don't want your cronies to like me.  Half of these
called friends of yours could hardly give a fuck about what happens to you.
As long as they can ride with you and profile with you it's all good.
Secondly it's clear that my presence here is intruding on some sort of
'black' code of honor or some shit like that.  Thirdly, I don't need you or
anyone else telling me what the fuck I need to do."

He just stared at me as if he couldn't believe I could actually stand up
for myself.  But soon enough his surprise turned into anger.

"You know what, I don't even know why I bother with your ass anymore.  It's
like ever since I got big and shit you want to be acting all jealous.  Well
I'm not gonna let you or no one else fuck with me.  I worked hard for this
and I'm not giving it up for nobody."

"Well don't bother with it anymore.  It's obvious that your busy lifestyle
is just too damn busy for your 'friends'.  Just remember who was there
before you made it big, who stood beside you when no one even wanted to
give you a recording contract.  Whose money practically financed all
this...shit before you became a big timer."

"So it's about the money.  You acting like this because you want your cut."

And it was as if I was stabbed in the back.  For him to even suggest that I
was after his money, that I was just another straphanger cut me deep.  It
made all our years of friendship seem like Childs' play.

"Forget it!  I don't need this shit, I don't need this job and I don't need
you."  And with that I walked out oblivious to the words that were
following me.


I sat at my brothers' kitchen table stirring my cup of coffee aimlessly.

"You knew this was bound to happen Richie.  You knew it so I don't know why
you're acting all surprised.  The writings have been on the wall for a long
damn time.  Remember that Easter show he put on last year, remember what
happened.

I thought back to that day a year ago.  It had been one of his biggest
shows at the time, put on by Pepsi, a show that was expected to catapult
him into mainstream R&B.  It was sold out by young urban teens wanting to
get a glimpse at this new sensations Robert Knight.  They chanted his name
for what seemed like hours and while he gave the public what it wanted,
that rich, melodic voice and that sex appeal, he gave me the shaft.
Somehow, he managed to leave me, his publicist at the time off his guest
list. He was relatively new then and so was I so I had chalked it up to
trial and error only to realize that every other person was on that list,
from Greg, his manager to Nancy his hairstylists' assistant's right hand
woman.  That left me paying a hundred and fifty for an over priced seat in
the nosebleed section.

"I know but..."

"But nothing Richie, the Bobby you knew back in school is not the Bobby out
there.  He's big shit now so he doesn't need you anymore.  He's trading in
your friendship for bigger and better things."  And to hear my own brother
speak out loud what I had been thinking for months made me break down and
cry.

He rubbed my back and slung an arm carelessly over my back.

"It's ok Richie, you're going to be fine.  You've got your family and your
'true friends' so forget him.  He wasn't one of us anyway."

That statement caught me off guard.

"What did you say?"

"He wasn't one of us."

I stared at him expecting him to realize his obvious blunder but he didn't.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on Richie."

"No, tell me what you meant by that."

"Fine, you want the truth."

I nodded my head so he continued, "what can you expect from people like
that.  They shit on all the people that try to help them then run back home
to their kind when things are all good.  That's the way it always is."

"Black people?"

"Yes.  You see it all the time.  And from what you've told me, about how
his entourage treats you, he apparently feels the same way."

"When since have you been a racist?"

"Call it what you will but I'm being a realist.  You might want to pretend
like this black and white thing don't matter but in reality it does."

"How can you live in New York and feel this way?"  I asked incredulously.

"Because I've had to deal with the same shit as you.  Them not accepting me
because I'm white.  Thinking they're better than me.  Well two can play
this game."

And with that he left me to my own devices and went into his room.  It
seemed that at every turn I made, the people around me were changing their
stripes.  No one was as I remembered them and it made me wonder if I should
have just changed with the times and gone with the flow.

PART THREE.  I HOPE THE STORY IS CLEAR AND THAT IT IS UNDERSTANDABLE.  IF
NOT PLEASE EMAIL ME AND LET ME KNOW WHERE IT IS GETTING A BIT HAZY.  I NEED
COMMENTS IN ORDER TO IMPROVE MY WRITING SO PLEASE SEND IN THE GOOD, BAD, OR
UGLY.