His mother never seemed to have enough money; her open palm was always in his face.
Joey made more than enough money with his TV series to support them both, and Joey
refused to take Anderson’s money. Anderson worked for one small garment company in
Pasadena that made men’s underwear and swim trunks. The underwear was extremely
sheer and exposed his entire body. Then he worked for another small underwear company
with more international appeal, and modeled a new line of men’s underwear with little
cartoon characters printed all over the fabric. He wasn’t fond of modeling almost in the
nude, but it made enough money to support his mother. And, in a general sense, he was
building his own platform and gaining attention. He wasn’t the kind of model whom
people recognized by name, but they did know his face and his body.
He kept his body in perfect shape, and he knew how to make fast money when he
needed it. But the real reason he kept in shape was to please Joey. With each bench press
and sit-up he did at the gym, he imagined Joey’s large hands roaming all over his body.
Instead of getting tired, like with most couples together for a long time, their sex life
continued to thrive and grow. All Anderson had to do was touch Joey with his index
finger, and Joey would be ready to mount him.
When Anderson wasn’t working on his body, he was taking care of all Joey’s
needs. He kept the house, did the laundry, and cooked all the meals. He even massaged Joey’s feet in hot water and rubbed them dry at the end of the day. Harriet lived with
them in her own private suite at the other end of the house. But she was usually busy in
her office, managing Joey’s career with promotional work or planning a new strategy to
boost his ratings. She wasn’t very domestic—she couldn’t cook, she didn’t know how to
turn on a washing machine, and she didn’t know which end of the vacuum cleaner to
push—so she didn’t mind that Anderson took over all the household duties.
Their lives fell into a nice, even groove. Anderson and Harriet had reached a
silent agreement with which they were both happy. Harriet saw how much Joey and
Anderson loved each other and she didn’t get in their way. If anything, when Harriet
watched the way Anderson knew how to care for Joey and keep him calm and relaxed,
she stopped interfering in their lives.
There were times, though, when Anderson grew anxious and bored and lonely.
Joey kept long hours shooting the TV series, and Harriet, even when she wasn’t working,
wasn’t much company. The only conversation Harriet could carry was about Joey’s
career and how to keep it moving forward. Anderson had hoped that having Cody and
Roy in Hollywood would make things
less
lonely. But after Roy left Cody—a shock to
everyone—Cody wasn’t the same person he’d been in New York. He was always
working, and he was seen at all the best Hollywood parties. There was even a rumor
going around that Cody was having an intense relationship with well-known Hollywood
personality Grayer Crowley. Grayer was not openly gay, constantly pretending he was
straight, so Cody kept away from his openly gay friends.
All of which meant Anderson had too much time on his hands. But he didn’t want
to complain. His goal was to keep Joey happy and contented. The one time Anderson did confide in Cody about his loneliness, Cody sent him
to his Hollywood doctor and the doctor prescribed “dudes” for Anderson (even the doctor
didn’t use the real term for the drug). The doctor smiled and told him the drug was
harmless, that they would keep him relaxed and he’d feel less anxious. It worked, too.
Anderson took a pill in the middle of the afternoon, his most anxious time of day, while
he waited for Joey to come home from work. He’d sit back in a chair, put his feet up, and
smile all afternoon for no reason at all. Even his mother couldn’t upset him when he was
taking dudes.
Then one evening, while Anderson was waiting for Joey to come home from the
studio, he turned on the television to watch the National Music Awards. Cody had been
nominated for an award that night and he didn’t want to miss it. Cody had invited them,
but they couldn’t go because of Joey’s schedule. Anderson sat back on the floor against
the coffee table and smiled, wrapping his arms around his knees. He’d taken a couple of
dudes that afternoon and he wasn’t feeling any pain.
They had all come a long way in a short time since their struggling New York
days. Joey was in the third season of a hit TV series, Cody was now an internationally
known pop star, and even Rush had become a world-famous model. When Rush had first
called Anderson to tell him he’d been signed as a male underwear model, Anderson
cautioned him about modeling underwear. He advised Rush to be careful, because no one
took male underwear models seriously.
But Anderson didn’t know Rush had been signed to model Carson Blaine’s new
line of underwear, and he didn’t know Rush’s body would have the largest, most
controversial ad ever placed in Times Square. Rush had never been one to brag or boast. After that, Rush started modeling all of Carson Blaine’s clothing, from underwear to
jeans. He was now one of the most famous male models in the world.
When the awards show cut to a commercial, one of Rush’s television
advertisements came on. Anderson sat up straight and watched. He was smiling, happy
for Rush’s success. Rush was modeling a new line of men’s jeans for Blaine. Rush had
never looked better, and from the way his body filled out Blaine’s jeans, it wasn’t
difficult to see why he was one of the most famous male models in the world. Cody
leaned forward and shouted, “Harriet, come in here. You’re missing everything. Carson
Blaine is one of the sponsors for the awards show and Rush is on television now, wearing
Blaine’s new jeans.”
Harriet was in the kitchen. She’d just come out of her office and was waiting for
Joey to come home. They had all planned to watch the awards show that night, but Joey
called to say there had been a problem at the studio and he’d be home later than usual.
When Harriet came out of the kitchen, she stopped in front of the television. She
caught the tail end of Rush’s commercial. Rush was standing alone, with his back to the
camera, naked from the hips up—if the jeans had been any lower, his ass crack would
have been showing. He was wearing a pair of Carson Blaine jeans with back pockets so
low they were practically on his thighs.
Harriet pressed her lips together and smiled. “I always had a feeling that Rush
Goodwin would do well. That boy is so special. There’s something about him that I’ve
always loved.”
Anderson nodded in agreement. It wasn’t often that Harriet said something nice
about people in show business. But she’d always said good things about Rush despite usually complaining about how vicious show business people were. “I think it’s because
he’s real, Harriet,” Anderson said. “There’s nothing fake about Rush Goodwin. He has a
strong sense of dignity you don’t see often.”
Anderson took a deep breath and sighed. When
he
modeled underwear, he looked
trashy, like a sex-starved porn star teasing guys with his ass. But when Rush did it, he
looked innocent and naïve. Rush definitely had an intrinsic gift that Anderson didn’t have.
Harriet sat down in a chair next to the coffee table and said, “Like I said, I always
liked that boy.” She called all gay men “boys,” but she didn’t mean any harm.
A half hour later, Harriet frowned when Cody’s name was announced. He’d won
the award for which he’d been nominated and the camera cut to where he was sitting in
the audience. Anderson sat up and started clapping his hands. “Yes, go, Cody!” He turned
to Harriet. “I can’t believe he actually won.”
Harriet sneered. She wasn’t as fond of Cody as she was of Rush. “I can,” she said,
“because he’s a vulture.” She sat back and lit a cigarette. “The stories I’ve heard about
Cody are unreal. And now he’s sleeping with Grayer Crowley. I hear they are living
together up in Radcliff Benson’s old place.”
“Oh, Harriet,” Anderson said, “Cody’s not that bad. He’s just very serious about
his work. He’s always been intense about work.” But that was all he said about Cody,
because he’d also heard a lot of bad rumors around town, including the one about Cody
sleeping with Grayer Crowley. Supposedly, Cody was either drunk or stoned all the time,
and he allowed Grayer Crowley to rule his life. Grayer was a controlling closeted gay
man with a hit TV reality show and a longstanding national radio show that featured the
hippest, hottest music talent in the business. But Grayer wasn’t talented as an artist or a performer. He’d achieved his success through a combination of luck and brass balls.
Grayer was considered the most ambitious behind-the-scenes man in Hollywood, and he
was always looking for a way to advance himself.
Harriet and Anderson watched Cody jump out of his seat when his name was
announced. He stood up, straightened his black formal, and slowly crossed to the stage to
accept his music award. But when he reached the stage and they handed him the award, a
tall man ran up to the stage and took the microphone from Cody’s hand. He stepped in
front of Cody and said, “I’d like to make this formal protest right now, on live television.
There is something going on right now…”
Anderson frowned and pointed at the TV. “That’s that famous rapper. I can’t
remember his name, but he hijacked another awards show last year. He waits for
someone to win an important award, then runs up on the stage and makes some kind of an
announcement about something political. It’s such a shame. They should call security and
have him arrested. Why on Earth would he want to ruin Cody’s night like this? Cody
worked hard for this award.”
Harriet laughed and slapped her knees. She pointed to the TV. “I wouldn’t worry
about Cody,” she said. “That viper knows how to take care of himself. I’m more worried
about that poor bastard who just got in his way and tried to make his political speech.
That snake Cody will bury the poor son of a bitch on stage.”
Anderson stared at the TV screen and his jaw dropped. While the tall man was
trying to steal the spotlight with his political speech, Cody reached for the tall man’s
shoulder, squeezed it tightly, and said, “Oh no, you don’t,
dude
. This is not
your
award.
It’s
mine
. And you’re not ruining my night. Take it over to CNN, dude, where it belongs. This isn’t a news show—it’s an entertainment show.” Then Cody yanked the tall man
backwards, shook him around a few times, and shoved him right off the stage. He did this
all with one hand, holding his music award to his chest with the other.
Harriet shouted, “Look, he won’t even let go of that award! He’ll take that award
to bed for the next year.” She was rocking back and forth, laughing so hard there were
tears in her eyes.
Anderson ignored her. He watched a couple of security guys run up to the stage
and pull the tall man into the wings. The audience applauded and cheered for Cody—not
just because he’d won the award, but because he just stood up to someone twice his size.
When Cody stepped back to the microphone to give his speech, he took a deep breath and
smiled. Then he went right into his acceptance speech as if nothing had happened.
While Cody spoke, Harriet and Anderson heard a horn honk. It was Joey, home
from the studio. He always honked three times when he pulled up to the house. Harriet
jumped up from her chair and ran to the bar to make Joey a drink. Anderson jumped from
the floor and ran out the front door. When he met Joey in the driveway in his bare feet, he
put his arms around Joey’s wide shoulders and kissed him on the lips. “You just missed
Cody winning the National Music Award,” he said. “It was great.”
Joey put his hands down Anderson’s pants and smiled. He squeezed his ass a few
times and said, “I’m sorry I missed it. But I had a rough day today.”
Anderson arched his back so Joey could put his hand farther down his pants. He
wasn’t wearing underwear that night, and he felt his penis growing. He kissed Joey again
and said, “Come inside and have a nice quiet drink. Harriet’s making you a martini. You
can tell me all about your bad day, and I’ll make it all better later tonight in bed.” He reached down and grabbed Joey’s crotch. “You’ll forget all about your troubles when I’m
