Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Blake
Blake slid another dusty cardboard box off the stack in front of him and broke the brittle tape sealing its flaps. This box was filled with deflated beach balls and pool rings. They were all half-melted and stuck together, so he pushed the entire box into the ever-growing discard pile.
Virgil wasn’t kidding. These boxes were full of junk. He’d told Blake he could sort through the boxes stored on the second floor to see if there was anything worth salvaging. If he found something he could use, it was his to keep.
This evening, he welcomed the mindless task of digging through the precarious cardboard towers.
It had been a week since everything blew up, and in that time, Ethan had texted only once – a very professional text letting Blake know he’d set up an appointment with a contractor to get a bid for the new stage.
The real message was clear: We’re business partners, not friends.
So he was already feeling down when Xander sent him a cryptic text that he’d been in some kind of fight with Spencer and Mickey, and Sunday brunch was canceled. He reached out to all of them, but no one was ready to talk.
If he couldn’t make things better for his friends, at least he could keep his hands busy.
After a few hours of searching, he’d uncovered some good finds.
Several of the boxes were filled with cool vintage Halloween and Christmas decorations, all in surprisingly good condition.
He’d also found some faded Polaroids from the early days of The Firehouse.
He set those aside, certain that Virgil would want to hold onto them for sentimental reasons.
Mostly though, he was finding junk. Dusty fliers. Ratty wigs and dried-out makeup palettes. Plastic silverware and paper plates. A box labeled Diablo contained an assortment of underwear and thongs, along with a black tank top with CUM 2 DADDY written in rhinestones.
The most disturbing find of all was a taxidermy squirrel wearing a miniature leather harness. Blake wasn’t sure if he should laugh at it or burn it with fire.
His phone vibrated in his back pocket. Hoping it might be Ethan, he reached for it immediately and was disappointed to find a text from Hollis instead.
HOLLIS
Dude, we need to talk. I have exciting news.
It was probably a good time to call it a day. It would be dark soon, and the upstairs rooms were creepy enough in full daylight. At least he hadn’t heard any footsteps or creaky floorboards that evening.
He jogged downstairs and ducked into Virgil’s office, closing the door behind him. It would be hours before the club was really hopping, but music was already blaring on the dance floor. Leaning against the windowsill, he dialed Hollis’s number.
Hollis answered on the second ring, his tone uncharacteristically chipper. “Blake, my man. Good news! Brad over at Ballsy Boyz contacted me. He wants you to participate in this year’s summer orgy at the end of September.”
“He does?” Since the argument on the set of his last gig, he hadn’t heard a peep from the major studios. It was as if they’d forgotten he existed. And now, out of the blue, the largest studio in town was inviting him to film?
The excitement in Hollis’s voice was contagious. “I know, right? This is an amazing opportunity for you to get back in the game. You’d film two standard scenes with partners of your choice, then participate in the orgy. Brad estimates about twenty guys––”
“Hollis.” Blake tried to interrupt, but Hollis talked over him.
“Brad offered $3500 for the weekend, but I think I can get him to $5000.”
Visions of being in the middle of a sweaty, musky crush of twenty men flashed through Blake’s mind. While that might have been thrilling at one point in his life, now it just felt gross. How could he film a scene like that and look Ethan in the eye again?
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head even though Hollis couldn’t see him.
“Well, I might be able to get him to $7000, but you’d probably have to do another scene––”
“I mean, I don’t know if I want the gig.”
The line fell silent for several seconds.
“Blake, if you turn this down, it might not come around again.”
That was true. Saying no to Brad would mean burning bridges with Ballsy Boyz. This would be his one shot.
Hollis’s voice took on a hint of desperation.
“If Brad likes your work at the summer orgy, we might be able to negotiate an exclusive contract with Ballsy Boyz. You’re an icon – he’d be a fool not to snap you up.
You could fit gigs in around the club’s schedule.
This could be a new chapter for you. Your second act. ”
Blake chewed on his thumbnail. A Ballsy Boyz gig would be a great way to announce that he was back on the scene, and would put to bed the rumors being spread by his last director.
If doing the summer orgy led to a contract, Ballsy Boyz would open doors for him that Private Dick couldn’t.
In the porn industry, Brad Mills was a kingmaker.
Under his management, Blake would be even more of a celebrity, which would draw clientele to Siren in droves.
It seemed too good to be true. There was only one problem. He didn’t want to go back to porn. The impersonal, mechanical sex. The performative grunting and cursing. After making love to Ethan, those experiences no longer held any allure for him.
Maybe his relationship with Ethan was over. Maybe they still had a chance. But if he went back to porn now, after everything that had happened, he’d slam that door forever.
Without porn or cam work, money would be tight for a while. But he’d rather struggle as a new business owner than lose his chance with Ethan.
“I don’t…” His chest tightened, but he forced the words out anyway. “I don’t want to model anymore.”
“What? At all? What about your SeeMen content, and your cam work? You’re losing subscribers every day.”
“I just want to focus on Siren now.”
“I know the club is important to you, but does it have to be either-or? You’re talking about throwing your career away. You’ve worked hard for what you have, Blake. Please, give it some thought. I won’t turn Ballsy Boyz down until the end of next week. You have time to think about it.”
After making Blake promise to give the offer more thought, Hollis said goodbye and ended the call.
Blake didn’t need to give it more thought. When Hollis contacted him next week, his answer would be the same.
On a porn set, directors treated him like a prop. A body to use as they saw fit. A Ken doll to smoosh against another Ken doll.
But Ethan treated him like he mattered. Like he was worthy of respect.
If he and Ethan were going to salvage their relationship, someone had to make the first move. Blake was ready to bare his soul. To apologize and ask for forgiveness. He wanted his boyfriend back.
Blake peered out Virgil’s office window. The twilight gloom was dotted with points of light – apartment windows, headlights, street lamps – the thousand sorry substitutes for stars in the city.
Although the night sky was a featureless navy blue, the stars were out there, somewhere.
He and Ethan might not be together, but they were under the same stars.
Blake opened his text chain with Ethan and sent a message.
BLAKE
Can we meet? I’ll answer any questions you have. I’ll be at the park, under our stars.