Patrick's Plight (3 page)

The blond entered the room like a frightened rabbit, his eyes racing all over to check out every detail. Vance smiled as the young man tripped over absolutely nothing.

“Poor thing. What are you doing here, little bunny?” Vance asked. He scooted to the edge of the seat as the young man stripped off his shirt.

“Oh yeah, honey, take it off,” he encouraged even though he knew the blond couldn’t hear him.

Boredom evaporated like the morning mist as pale, white flesh glowed under the studio lights.

“I bet you look amazing on camera,” Vance whispered.

In a roomful of other half naked males, the slim young man wouldn’t stand out, but in a studio in the right light, he glowed like a fine jewel.

The door opened behind him. His director Ross Franks entered.

“Here’s his paperwork. He’s barely twenty and doesn’t appear to be too adventurous, but that doesn’t usually matter with a sweet young thing like that. The subscribers will be soaking their pants over him,” Ross said with a grin.

For once, the thought of their audience gleeful over a new body didn’t fill Vance with the tingle of anticipated money. It made him queasy.

“Who are you matching him with?” Vance asked. He tried to keep his voice as disinterested
as possible. He’d never live it down if Ross noticed his interest in one of his potential employees. The problem with owning a porn studio was the men were more than willing to sleep their way to the top.

In the past Vance had let a few of them try.

“I’m thinking Thor,” Ross said. “He’s a big guy, so he’d be a good contrast to Patrick there.”

“Maybe too big.” Vance tensed at the image of their biggest top hurting the fragile looking blond.

Thor wouldn’t intentionally hurt the newbie.

Despite his appearance, the large man didn’t have a mean bone in his body. However, the man might be too much for a young star’s first try.

“What about Lane? He’s always good with the young ones,” Ross proposed.

“True. Give him a five-minute interview. I want to see how Patrick interacts with other actors.” He didn’t really want to see Patrick with any of them, but it would be odd to not let him try.

“Will do, boss,” Ross patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

Vance stared at Patrick as he slid off his pants, folded them neatly, then set them on the chair by the door where he had placed his shirt.

With only a brief hesitation, the slim man pulled down his underwear, exposing a set of firm buns.

“Nice boy. Very nice,” Vance approved when
Patrick turned sideways, giving Vance an excellent view of both cock and ass.

He bit back a growl of disapproval when Lane entered the room wearing nothing but a tiny pair of briefs. Poor Patrick didn’t harden at the sight of the big muscular jock. If anything, he looked even more nervous.

“Don’t stress honey, I don’t bite. At least not unless you like that,” Lane said in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, but it made Vance want to bash his head in.

He gritted his teeth against the violent urge he felt toward one of his top money makers. As Lane slid a hand down Patrick’s arm, Vance dreamily imagined ripping it from its socket.

Patrick remained still while Lane leaned forward to kiss him.

Vance hit the buzzer that he knew echoed in the room. He smiled when Lane jerked back from Patrick.

“That’s right, don’t you touch him.” Vance scowled.

Possessiveness burned through him. He didn’t like the idea of anyone touching the sweet boy in the other room.

The door opened behind him. “What did you buzz for?” Ross asked.

“Cancel the audition. I don’t think he’ll suit,”

Vance ordered.
“What? Are you crazy? There’s always room for a twink as cute as him. Viewers will line up to see tops tear up that cherry ass,” Ross insisted.

“Not this one. Get him dressed and out of here.” Before Vance broke every ethical rule he had and raced in there to fuck Patrick.

Ross stared at him for a long time. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him.” Ross gave Vance one last look before leaving the room.

Vance watched Ross enter the studio and give Patrick the news.

“Hey, give the kid a chance,” Lane protested.

After Ross insisted Patrick go, the younger man hung his head and for a minute Vance thought he would cry. Guilt struck him hard, but he knew he’d feel worse if he let another man touch Patrick.

He’d follow the young man when he left. He had plans to count every freckle on Patrick’s body.

atrick ran out of the building, using a back P door, so he didn’t have to make the walk of shame past the other interviewees. It meant leaving behind his coat, but he didn’t care, even though he didn’t have a replacement. He’d rather freeze to death, than face any further humiliation.

All the while, he did a mental inventory of his body. Was he too scrawny? Did the fact that he had a no pack instead of an eight-pack really matter that much? It wasn’t like he could help that he was thinner than
Olive Oyl
on crack. He ate as much as he could, even when he lived at home and food had been plentiful. He just couldn’t bulk out no matter how hard he tried.

Patrick rushed down the sidewalk, barely noticing how crowded it was. His mind and spirit were too crushed.

The studio hadn’t even let the other guy touch him. He snorted. They were probably too worried that he’d taint their precious star or something. As if ugly was a contagious disease. Patrick knew his face was a bit round, his lips too full and his eyes way too wide, but he never believed that he was
that
hideous.
Horror filled Patrick as he stopped dead in his track. Unless it was because of his ass. Oh god, could that really be the reason? It made sense. His hands shot down to his butt. Just as always, it was sadly lacking any bounce, jiggle, or smack-me-baby.

He let out a deep sigh. He was a failure at porn before he even started. Could he sink any lower?

At least he’d had a chance to mess up on his other jobs before he was shown the door.

He mentally ticked off said jobs in his head.

Other than the bar, there’d been the time he worked as a valet and lost a car. Then there was the time he worked at a grocery store, only to be fired when he’d accidently buried a family of four when he’d knocked over a display of cans. He didn’t even want to think about his brief stint with a dog groomer. That poor Shih Tzu never walked the same again.

So, how was he supposed to go back to his friends and tell them that he’d failed yet again? He was the one who they always looked to for help.

The one who always tried to make things better.

Yet, he couldn’t even fucking take care of himself.

He started walking again, even though his chest was tight and a lump burned in his throat. No, he just couldn’t face the others, at least not yet. Sure, they’d tell him that it was okay and they didn’t think any less of him. Maybe they’d even mean it,
too. But to Patrick, it was only confirming everything his father had yelled at him the night he’d thrown Patrick out.

A no-good son-of-a-bitch! Who would never be any
good to anybody. Just a waste of space, who was even
more of an embarrassment, because he was a limp-wristed fluff.

Patrick let out a shaky breath as he realized his hands were trembling, and his stomach felt like a thousand rats were scurrying around it. Damn it, not again. He’d gotten himself all worked up, and there was no telling when he’d feel normal again.

He put a hand to his chest, praying the anxiety would soon pass. God, he hated feeling this way.

He glanced around the crowd, hoping that nobody else noticed. Shit, maybe Ronnie was right and Patrick did need to get back on his pills.

Unfortunately, Patrick only had thirty dollars left in his checking account and no prospects of seeing any more cash soon.

He spotted his favorite coffee shop and quickly made his way over to it. Not only did they not mind when he only ordered water, but they didn’t care how long he hung around.

As soon as Sara, one of the regular baristas, saw him, she gave a quick nod toward a table. Patrick went over and sank into a chair, his breaths now coming out a bit quicker.

She rushed over and placed a tall glass of water down. Then she took the seat next to him and
began to run her palm over his back in a soothing manner.

Short and blond like him, people often called them the Olsen twins. Something Patrick didn’t mind since he liked Sara so much. Even though he’d only known her a year, she’d been one of the few that he confided in and leaned on for support.

Reaching into her work apron, she pulled out a prescription bottle and took out a pill. Even as Patrick stared longingly at the little yellow pill that would bring relief, he shook his head, “I couldn’t.”

She let out a soft sound of displeasure. “Why not? It’s the exact same thing you used to take. It’s not your fault that you can’t afford them anymore.”

“But, what if you need it?”

“Ever since I’ve been put on my new meds, I hardly need these anymore. Plus, I can get more anytime I need them, since I’m still on my parents’

health insurance.”

Patrick still hesitated. She finally reached out, gently unfolded his clenched fingers and placed the pill in his sweaty palm. “Take it, sweetie. We both know how much you need it.”

Still feeling a bit guilty, Patrick took the prescription and swallowed it. The anxiety was still there, but since he knew that the pill would be kicking in within forty-five minutes, he felt a little
better.

“You need to go to the doctor,” she said, her blue eyes filled with concern.

“Stuff like that costs money,” Patrick replied, looking down at the table.

He hated being so needy all the time. It made him realize just how much of a spoiled brat he’d been before. He’d never given a second thought to how others had to struggle for simple things like food or medical care.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m still trying to get you into here. There just haven’t been any openings yet. How is it going at the bar?”

After Patrick gave her a brief rundown, she let out a loud curse. “Are you kidding me? What complete and utter assholes.”

Nobody could ever accuse Sara of having tact or hiding what she felt. It was one of the things that Patrick both loved and hated about her.

A customer walked up to the counter, demanding her attention. She gave him another squeeze, before getting up. “Give me a call tonight. We’ll talk.”

Patrick nodded. Chatting with Sara always did help. He’d just have to keep the conversation short, since he only had a few minutes left on his phone.

Patrick continued to wallow in his problems, getting so caught up in his dismal thoughts that he
barely noticed the coffee house filling up. It wasn’t until somebody set a large cup in front of him that Patrick looked up with a start.

He expected it to be Sara, so when Patrick found himself staring up at a god, he was both shocked and pleasantly surprise. And by god, Patrick meant the finest specimen of man ever created.

The man must have been at least six-foot five and so tight that Patrick could have bounced a nickel off the guy’s chest. Yet, he wasn’t overly muscular that he looked like a beefcake, either. He had the build of somebody who worked out, yet didn’t live at the gym.

The stranger’s dark hair had just a tiny hint of gray at the temples. It was cut in a professional style to match his dark suit. There was a large ring on one of his fingers, the piece of bling probably costing more than a year’s worth of Patrick’s rent.

Yet, for all the wealth the man projected, there was a kindness that lingered in the man’s deep brown eyes. There were also laugh lines at the corners that showed he found some joy in the fucked up world.

“Do you mind if I buy you a cup of coffee?” the man asked, his voice deep and smooth like honey.

Patrick barely suppressed a shiver of desire.

“What kind?”

The man glanced down at the cup, a playful
smile going over his handsome face. “Since I wasn’t for sure what you liked, I decided to gamble on a Mocha with whip.”

Patrick’s taste buds did a happy dance. “Just a word of advice, you can never go wrong with chocolate.”

Tall, Dark and Dreamy gestured to a chair. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Patrick replied, not believing his sudden turn of good-luck. “But, you have to tell me your name.”

“Vance.”

The man reached over to shake hands, their fingers lingering. Patrick took in a deep breath as a jolt of desire shot up his arm before spreading to the rest of his body.

“N….ni…nice to meet you. I’m Patrick.”

He gave himself a mental kick in the pants for his stammering. That was with an anxiety pill on board, too. He could only imagine how much of a dork he would have been before.

Sitting down, Vance studied Patrick for a long time. The dark-eyed gaze seemed to burn into him, missing nothing. Patrick would have felt uncomfortable were it not for the fact that there was the unmistakable glint of desire on Vance’s face.

“So, tell me. Why do you look so depressed?”

Vance finally asked.
Patrick ducked his head, while he struggled with how to reply. He didn’t exactly think it would make a good impression to blurt,
You see I
just failed a job interview that consisted of me getting
naked and laying it all out there.