SPLASH ON THE SCREEN
Jack Scribe
Part 20, NEW YEAR CHALLENGES
BRENT
After a relatively quiet, early New Year’s Eve dinner at our place
with the Di Marco family, Doug and I snuggled, loved and snoozed in the New
Year. 1998 would be busy for both of us. In addition to my classes and a
feature film, I committed to a spring publicity tour for the movie ‘in the can’
in New York, Toronto, London and Chicago. Except for the ‘Oprah’ show taped
during the week in Chicago, everything else would be handled around long
weekends. Doug was occupied in post-production and editing ‘American X’.
Jim Weiss was officially out of the Navy and moved to L.A. in
mid-December. He accepted our invitation to stay at the condo until he found
something. The ‘something’ was a small, furnished studio on Larrabee, not far
from Billy Forrest’s place in West Hollywood. Jim moved in January 2nd and
started school at Cal State-Northridge as a freshman the following week.
During the holidays, Doug and I had a small dinner party for Jim
that included Billy, Tom Feldman and Mark Connelly. New acquaintances became
new friends. Dave and Mike had their
hands full in San Diego with the young guy, Justin, and couldn’t get up to L.A.
But we promised to get together around Valentine’s Day.
Doug and I were watching the KTLA evening news at 10:00 p.m. on a
late-January, Tuesday evening. Although the evening anchor was an old, boring
fuck, it was a good time for us to get caught up on the happenings of the day:
by the normal 11:00 p.m. news broadcasts of the network stations, we would be
in serious slumber land. Because of his studio schedule and my studies, Doug
and I both were early risers. We were both in our briefs, stretched out on the
sofa, as the newsreader came on the screen after a commercial.
*** “Another crime of violence and possible hate was evident
tonight in West Hollywood. A young, adult man, in his early 20’s was mugged by
a group of unidentified men. It appears that they were definitely intent on
wreaking damage on another human.” Both Doug and I immediately perked up.
“Holy shit. There is definitely something wrong going down,” said
Doug. We watched as the remote TV cameras showed a street that was vaguely
familiar. Looking closely, I realized that it was a back street leading to the
Pavilions super market at Robertson and Santa Monica Boulevards.
*** “Here’s Eric Spellman, on scene, with the details.”
*** “Tonight a vicious attack of an unarmed man occurred on a
quiet street in West Hollywood. Witnesses say that three men in their late 20’s
attacked the man. Eyewitness accounts say that the men jumped from their truck
and attacked the victim for no apparent reason. According to accounts, the
victim had been shopping at a local food market and was returning home.
Witnesses also stated that another man, unidentified, was with the victim.
However, the second man fought off the attackers and deflected any serious
injury. He apparently reported the crime from his cell phone after the
attackers ran to their pickup truck and sped away.”
“This is a fucking gay bashing,” I said. “What a crock. Here we
are, about to end another century, and this shit has to go on.” Suddenly the
phone rang. I turned down the TV volume as I picked up the telephone.
“Hello?”
~~~ “Oh, Christ, am I glad I caught you in. This is Billy Forrest.
Have you seen the news about the bashing?” Billy was breathing heavily and
sobbing.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Um, we’re watching it right now.” I
gave Doug a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. I whispered, “Billy Forrest”
to Doug.
~~~ “Don’t panic, but the guy they attacked is Jim Weiss. They’ve
taken him to Cedars-Sinai.”
“Billy, oh fuck…I’m so sorry. What can Doug or I do?” My gut
started retracting. Doug’s interest in the conversation perked up. “Babe, the
victim on the news story is Jim Weiss. This is Billy,” I said to Doug. He
immediately went to the kitchen and another phone extension.
~~~ “At this point, pray. I’m at the hospital. From what I can
gather, Jim’s suffering from a broken leg and some cracked ribs. Those assholes
were using some sort of pipe. Thank God they didn’t go for his head. The
doctors say that Jim is going to be okay. So, I guess that’s good news. What a
shitty situation.”
“We’re coming right down,” Doug said from the extension. “How are
you holding up?”
~~~ “I’m doing okay. But you guys don’t have to come here. There’s
going to be press.” We both heard trepidation in his voice.
“Screw the press,” I said. “Jim’s a friend of mine. And he’s Navy
buddies with both of us. Let the press try to piss on the flag.”
“Fuckin’ A. We’ll be at the hospital in 20 minutes, tops,” added
Doug.
~~~ “I appreciate that, guys. I’m the lone ranger. And also the
only witness.”
“You’re the other guy that fought them off?” I asked, in wonder.
~~~ “As much as I could. I got their license plate number before
they ran. I’ve given the sheriff’s investigative team a complete description of
those assholes.”
“We’ll be there soon, buddy. The sheriffs department will do their
job. We’ll make sure.” Although the L.A. county sheriffs department worked hard
to maintain good relations with the gay community, I had no compunction about
using political connections if that’s what it took.
“Absolutely. These guys’ balls are goin’ to fry,” Doug added.
~~~ “I’ll see you soon. Just so you know, I’m in a private room
off Emergency. Kinda tucked away from any paparazzi. Those guys can be like
piranhas. ”
“Hold on. We’ll be there, Bye.” We quickly threw on sweaters,
jeans and topsiders and made a dash for the elevator and the Explorer.
Doug and I encountered light traffic and arrived 15 minutes later.
Not knowing the area, we parked on a side street and approached the Emergency
entrance. At this point it was 10:55 p.m. and the major L.A. TV channels were
getting ready for the 11:00 p.m. news. Within seconds I was recognized and
suddenly hyper-bright lights were focused on us. I took a deep breath and
motioned Doug to ease into the background as several news reporters from print
and electronic media descended. ‘Fuck,’ I thought, ‘Showtime was not in my
favor tonight.’
“Brad Williams, would it be correct to assume that you’re here
because of tonight’s attack in West Hollywood? Do you have any statement you
want to make?” a member of the CBS2 reporting team asked me, rushing up,
breathlessly, and shoving a mike in my face. It was 10:57 p.m.
“What is your connection, Brad, to this alleged hate crime?” asked
the reporter from NBC4. I nodded, held up my hand and smiled. Within moments,
three other TV crews were in front of me. I was very aware that all the
network-owned stations in L.A. would be digesting and editing this interview
for possible network distribution and cable.
“Guys, I’ll be happy to answer your questions. Why don’t we
coordinate your reports so I don’t have to repeat myself?” I looked at my watch
and noted that it was at the top of the hour. The CBS2 guy was not happy that
he didn’t have an exclusive interview.
“Brad, this is the lead story for everyone. Can you bear with us
for three more minutes?” asked one of the news reporters.
“At 11:03 p.m., you’ve got two minutes. Okay? I’d appreciate one
reporter at a time asking questions. You guys figure out the rotation.” I saw
all the crews nod affirmatively as the reporters listened intently into their
earpieces. I was, for the first time, pulling celebrity rank. Doug gave me a
‘thumbs up’ as he entered the hospital.
As the appointed time was reached, I was literally blinded by the
lights of the cameras. I vaguely recognized the reporters from the various
stations. One after another, they started their intros on the live feed.
“Brad, how do you happen to be interested in the attack on this
young man?” asked a reporter from NBC4.
“Aside from the barbaric nature of this crime, I’m here because
the victim is a friend of mine. He and I served in the Navy.”
“Do you think this was a hate crime against a gay man, Mr.
Williams,” asked the KTLA guy.
“Eric Spellman, right?” I asked. He smiled and nodded. “It was the
report on your early news program that got me down here. To answer your
question, the sheriff will have to determine what the motive of this senseless
attack was. Let’s wait for their investigation to answer that question.”
“Brad, how do you feel about your friend being found, beat up, in
West Hollywood?” the reporter from ABC7 asked. ‘This attractive black man had
ventured into dark waters with his question,’ Brent considered.
“The same as if I had a friend who was beat up in South Central. I
take it, sir, that if this was happening in Watts, you probably would not be
covering this crime?” I said with a slight smile. Watts was the epicenter for
the riots in the 60’s, and, today, plagued by racial unrest. “I’m coming to the
aid of a friend and Navy buddy.” Everyone got the message.
“Do you have any word on how the victim is surviving?” Fox11 was
represented. I knew that this was probably being broadcast live up and down the
West Coast.
“My buddy is suffering, I’m told, from a broken leg and ribs.
Thank God that he didn’t receive any other serious wounds. Guys, please ask
your viewers to offer a prayer to a man who didn’t deserve the attacks from
these morons and cowards. This is a man who served his country. I’m now going
to visit my friend. God bless.” I slowly looked at each camera and solemnly
nodded before I left. I heard a low murmur of approval from the crews as I
walked towards the entrance to the hospital.
“Mr. Williams, please follow me.” I looked up and saw a
middle-aged woman, dressed in a subtle business dress, smiling, gesturing in
her direction.
“Thank you,” I said. Doug joined me as we walked down the spotless
hallway. I nodded that he belonged before the security force intervened.
‘Cedars-Sinai P.R. department functioned like a finely honed engine,’ I
considered. Many celebrities found their way here, for a number of reasons.
‘Billy and I, on a pecking order, were pretty small fry’, I thought, ‘when you
considered Liz, Rock, Marlon, etc.’
“Mr. Forrest is in a private waiting area. If you will join him, I
will arrange for your party to visit Mr. Weiss.”
“How is Jim doing?” I asked as we stopped at a doorway.
“From what I can gather, Mr. Weiss is a very lucky man. His broken
right fibula has been set and his ribs are being treated as part of a body
cast. Not a pretty picture, Mr. Williams, but very routine. The attending
physician said that all the body scans are negative.” She smiled as the door
was opened.
“Guys, thanks for coming. Brent, I saw your interview just a few
minutes ago. It was awesome,” Billy Forrest said, as he stood. Doug and I
walked in and immediately went into a group hug with our pal.
“I understand that Jim has been treated and is covered in a ton of
plaster?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s up in one of the hospital wings. I was waiting for you
two before I went up to visit. Wanna go?” Billy looked very vulnerable at this
point.
“Hell, yes,” Doug replied in an upbeat manner. “Let’s see how this
little fucker is getting along.” The remark seemed to snap Billy back to a more
even balance.
The P.R. lady showed no reaction. She smiled and said, “Gentlemen,
please follow me. Mr. Weiss should be ready for visitors, even at this late hour.”
We were led to a remote, unmarked elevator. Once inside, we were
whisked up to the 10th floor. “Can we all see Jim at the same time?”
I asked.
“That’s not a problem, Mr. Williams.” The elevator door parted
open and we exited by a nurse station. Walking down a corridor, the lady
continued, “I have been advised that you need to make the visit brief. No more
than 10 minutes. Mr. Weiss needs his rest.” We all noticed a uniformed L.A.
county deputy sheriff at the door to Jim’s room.
The officer looked at us very intently and said to our P.R.
escort, “I assume that these men have been cleared to be on this floor?”
“Yes, officer. They are friends. And Mr. Forrest is the witness to
the attack.” The officer nodded, stepped aside and opened the door.
“Thanks, Ma’am,” Doug said.
“I’ll wait for you at the nurse’s reception desk,” she replied
before walking away.
We walked into the single-bed room. In addition to soft perimeter
lighting, there was a glow coming from the wall-mounted TV. I grabbed the
privacy curtain and pulled it back. Jim was hooked up to various wires and an
IV. The digital monitors mounted on the wall indicated all the vital-sign
readings. “Hey, buddy. Ready for a few beers?” I asked with a smile.
“Brent, guys. What a fuckin’ mess, huh? Thanks for coming,” he
said in a low voice. As expected, Jim’s right leg was in a plaster cast and was
suspended, partially in the air by a pulley device attached to the ceiling. A
sheet covered his body cast. Except for some scrapes on his face, he appeared
better than I feared.
“Hey, babe,” Billy said as he walked around to Jim’s left side.
Stroking Jim’s hair, he continued, “We can’t stay long. I wanted you to know
that I gave the sheriff investigators the license plate number of their pickup
truck and general descriptions of those assholes.”
“Thanks, Billy. From all those homophobic things they were
shouting, I’m pressing for this to be considered a hate crime. I have some
bucks to hire a lawyer.”
“Don’t worry about that, bud. I’m going to call Tom Feldman. He
and his dad are plugged into this town. Tom will know who to call.” Jim smiled
at the mention of Tom Feldman.
“Brent’s right. Tom will know exactly what to do,” Doug added. Jim
nodded and smiled.
“I really appreciate this visit. Guess this puts school on hold
for a while,” Jim said, with a wistful expression. “Oh, Brent, thanks for your
comments on the news. I watched the interview. That you put your ass out there
for me was fucking great.”
“Hey, nothing more needs to be said. You’d do the same for any of
us.” I reached over and lightly squeezed his shoulder. “How long will you be in
this place?”
“Perhaps I can answer your questions,” came a voice from the
doorway. As heads turned a tall man in a white jacket with a clipboard walked
into the room and towards the bed. “I’m Doctor Benjamin, the Orthopedic
Resident.”
“Doc, I’m Brent Williams in real life and the goofy-looking guy is
Doug Di Marco. We were with Jim in the Navy. Billy Forrest is a close friend of
all of us.”
“I saw your interview on the news, ah, Brent. As they say in the
Navy, ‘well done’. Now let me give you a little rundown on your buddy, Jim.”
The doctor moved over to the bed and nodded to Jim. “We think Mr. Weiss is
probably a very lucky man. The body cast you see is precautionary. There’s an
area near the spine that looks suspicious. We just want to make sure everything
stays in alignment until the swelling goes down. An MRI will be performed first
thing in the morning to determine if there’s a problem. My guess is that he’ll be
just fine and we can replace the cast with a rib belt.”
“Doc, I hope you’re right. This body cast really will put a cramp
on my love life,” Jim replied with a sly grin. “Not to mention that thing
jammed up my dick.”
“Oh, I think that won’t be a problem once you’re getting healed.
The catheter will be removed once you are mobile. And the leg is in traction just for the night to make sure the
broken fibula is in line for mending. If the leg looks good in the morning
x-rays, we’ll remove the traction.”
“How long is Jim going to be in the hospital?” Billy asked.
“There are several ‘ifs’ to consider. The heart monitor is in
place to make sure the heart wasn’t bruised from that nasty blow to the chest.
So if everything checks out – and I’m optimistic – then he’ll be in the
hospital about six days, tops. The challenge is that he’ll be moving around in
a wheelchair for a month to six weeks. I hope that where he lives is all on one
floor?”
“He’s going to be staying with me an’ the building’s handicap
compliant,” Billy said while he grabbed Jim’s hand. The unsaid statement of a
special friendship was very clear to all.
“Good, Billy. The only other thing is assistance getting in and
out of the wheelchair to go to the bathroom. Later, you may need to help him
become familiar with crutches.”
“Hey, I’m nurse Forrest at your service.” Everyone joined Billy in
a well-timed laugh.
“Guys, that’s about it for me. I wanted to stop in and give all of
you the progress on your friend. With a little R ‘n’ R, Jim will be just fine.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few more patients to see.” The doctor shook
hands with the guys and left the room.
“What the doc said is good news,” Jim said to break the sudden
silence.
“What about insurance?”
Billy asked. “This is going to cost a mint.”
“Probably one of the luckiest and wisest things I did was to take
out a health and hospitalization insurance policy that was offered to any
students registering at school. Some sort of special deal that Blue Cross has
with Cal State, Northridge. And to think I almost didn’t take it to save $200
bucks a month. In fact, I just got my card in the mail.”
“Buddy, God must be looking over you,” Doug said. “Depending on
our schedule, at least one of us will check in with you each night. We gotta get
that hot bod of yours back in shape,” he added with a chuckle.
“That, Jim, I look forward to. See ya, Hon,” Billy said, as he
leaned down for a light kiss. We all waved as we left the room. The deputy
sheriff nodded as we filed out.
“Mr. Forrest,” the deputy sheriff said as he stepped forward,
“would it be convenient to go over to the sheriff’s office in West Hollywood
tomorrow morning for a line-up? We’ve picked up suspects based on your
information.”
“I’m anxious to cooperate. Could we do it at 8:00 a.m.? I’ve got a
class at ten that I can’t miss.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. You know the location?”
“Yep. I drive by the station almost every day. Good night,
deputy.” They shook hands and we returned to the reception area.
“Mr. Williams, Mr. Forrest, there are still some photographers
outside. I suggested to Mr. Di Marco that he get the car and meet you two in
our back underground private entrance.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Billy, you need a lift?”
“Yeah, I do. The EMS team was kind enough to let me ride in the
ambulance.”
“Okay, guys. I’ll be back in ten minutes to get your famous butts
outta here,” Doug answered with a wink. The P.R. lady, two nurses, and Billy
joined me in a laugh. God, we needed a laugh right now.
*****
DOUG
After dropping Billy off at his apartment, we returned home and
hit the sack. I had called Mike and Dave in San Diego from our cell phone on
the drive back to the condo. They were going to come up to L.A. to visit Jim
this weekend and see if Mark Connelly and Tom Feldman could join us. Mike
mentioned a new restaurant he’d like to check out and I told him that we’d
handle reservations. I smiled when he suggested the hot, new Spago in Beverly
Hills. I thought of earlier times and the original Spago in West Hollywood.
“Babe, I’m too keyed up from tonight’s activities,” I whispered
into Brent’s ear. It was only 12:30 a.m.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was thinking about Jim and our
Memphis days. Seems pretty remote, now.” Brent moved so that he was facing me
in our bed.
“We’ve all moved on. Jim’s tough and he has friends to help.” I
shifted my body so that my leg wedged in between his thigh and crotch. I felt
my cock stirring as my knee came into contact with his ball sac.
“Ah, babe, I think we’ve stumbled onto something to relax
ourselves,” Doug replied while bringing his hands up to my face. He navigated
my head until we were nose to nose; lips to lips. By years of automatic reflex,
our tongues hungrily searched for contact.
“Mmmm,” was all I could utter as we locked on to each other. While
we tongue-fucked each other, his hard, taut nipples were too good of a target
to pass up. My fingers found their way to his pecs as I started rubbing my hard
dick against his thigh.
“Brent,” he said, pulling away, “I think that we can find a better
use for your fucking hot cock.” With little assistance, he moved my body up and
over so that we were in perfect unison. His pumped up Italian sausage was
dribbling pre-cum into his navel; my aching, swollen penis was parked by his
ball sac.
“This, Honey, is pure love,” I whispered as I rose to my knees and
reached for the Wet. I uncapped the lube and dribbled it on both our dicks and
my hand. Except to ease initial impact at his rosebud, he could accept me with
minimal effort. This foreplay, by two men who knew each other’s bodies
intimately, was part of the lovemaking ritual.
“This is pure honey, Love,” Doug replied with a chuckle. He raised
his legs and held them high while I took two fingers to explore his love
tunnel. He flexed his sphincter muscles with approval as I found his
acorn-shaped nut. I massaged his prostate just long enough to get his
attention. ‘Boy,’ I reasoned, as he aggressively wiggled, ‘did I get his
attention’.
“Close your eyes,” I said. “The next thing you feel will not be my
finger.” I made sure that my cock was liberally coated with lube before I began
entry. He instinctively relaxed and pushed out as my cock head entered the
well-traveled path of our love. On other evenings, he would treat me
accordingly.
“Oh, fuck, babe. This is great.”
I slowly slid completely into his eager orifice.
“I remember the night we met. I never get tired of making love
with you, champ.” Doug opened his eyes and winked.
“Hold on. You’re going to remember this night, too.” As a locomotive
begins a slow, steady departure from the station, my throbbing cock started
moving in and out in a ‘long-dicking’ pace that was paradise to an experienced
receiver. His legs moved down to my waist as I accelerated the motion.
“Ah, shit…urghh…give it to me, ohhh,” he uttered. I seriously
began variations of entry, attempting to hit his nut frequently. When I felt
Doug tensing, I momentarily parked in his ass. In those moments, I gently
massaged his shoulders.
“Buddy, you’re too tense,” I said as I started plowing his butt
hole. We played this ‘stop and wait’ game a couple of more times.
“Make this the real thing,” Doug commanded. “I’m ready.”
“Ready and able.” I started up this piston and rammed it home
until we both shot our semen with magnificent climaxes. ‘Thank God for
soundproofing,” I thought, as we came…simultaneously.
After tidying up, we lay spooning together with my chest pressed
against his back; my flaccid cock against his warm crack. My hand was
absentmindedly rubbing his abdomen. “Doug, that was beautiful. Thank you,” I
said as I kissed his shoulder.
“Love you, always. We both needed that. I’m still not tired,” he
said with a sigh.
“Wanna talk? I’m still wound up, too. That business with Jim’s
bashing and me pussy-footing around my sexuality because of public image is the
pits.”
“You’re in a corner into which the industry has painted you. I
think mid-America would have second thoughts about the hottest new cinema
heartthrob suckin’ dick,” Doug said with a snicker. “Ouch,” he uttered when I
pinched his nipple, hard.
“Yeah, I know. But, it’s a pretty nice dick.” I kissed his neck
and gently rubbed his pecs. “I just think that we need a long-term game plan.
We’ve already agreed not to go crazy spending.”
“Well, except maybe for buying the condo next to us?” Doug said.
We had recently purchased the two-bedroom unit next to ours for more space and
as an enhancement to our condo investment. We had been advised that the
Remington condominium building would continue to increase in value, dramatically,
and had received approval from the homeowner’s association board to create a
connection between the two condos.
“Babe, even with the expansion, our finances are in great shape,”
I replied. The design would create a gigantic master bedroom, bath and personal
entertainment center. Over 4,000 square feet in the sky would give us plenty of
growing space. The bedroom we were now in would become a large guest room.
Construction was scheduled to start next month.
“You and I will be doing this film, starting in the summer. How
far you thinking ‘long-term’?” Doug asked. He gently moved around so that we
were facing each other.
“I figure that about five or six years, when I finish law school,
is long-term enough.”
“Fuck, babe. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be the hottest star
in movies by then.” Doug rose up and turned on a low-wattage bedside lamp.
Sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, he looked at me intently.
I sat up and assumed a similar pose, facing him. “And you’ll be
the hottest director. I’m thinking that in our family there should be room for
only one person in this crazy show business. That person, lover, should be
you.”
“Brent, you would be blowing away millions. That’s a lot of
bread.”
“We’ll be socking a lot away until then. Just something to
consider down the road. I’m okay with playing this little charade with the
press for my career at this point. But the idea of hiding in the Hollywood
closet for a long time is not appealing. And, unfortunately, coming out will
grind my star into dust. I mean, not many actors have survived. I’m not going
to be a token ‘out’ gay actor. Look at that Rupert guy.”
“You’ve really been thinking about this.” Doug took my hands in
his and squeezed. “I guess we have some serious planning to do.”
“Absolutely, Hon. I’ve got some pretty fuzzy ideas. In the
meantime, shut off the light and snuggle with me. Morning will come soon
enough.”
TO BE CONTINUED