01.

Jaxon

Music was blasting, people were drinking and (in some rooms) lines of coke were being snorted and here I was sitting in a shadowed corner watching it all. For most people this was the party of the century and a great opportunity to rub elbows but, for me, this was just a waste of time. I leaned back against the padded seat and shook my head at the waiter who’d walked by offering a flute filled with expensive champagne and a tray carrying delicious pastries I couldn’t have. I shook out a Djarum Black cigarette and lit it, inhaling the clove and tobacco mix in an effort to ebb the desire for food as I took in my uninhibited peers whose bodies writhed against each other on the make shift dance floor.

“Jax!” the exuberant voice of my best friend and assistant called out as he plopped down next to me. It didn’t take a genius to know that he’d had one too many martini’s and was feeling right. Raphael was perfect for this lifestyle but, more often than not, I found myself feeling like an outsider getting a glimpse of the inner sanctum of the rich and famous and wondering why people found them so special. Was it because they had money? Because their lifestyles seemed glamorous? These people were broken inside and most of them were too high or drunk to know it. “Why are you sitting over here all by yourself? Get up and dance a little! Have fun!”

“You’re having enough fun for the both of us,” I pointed out as he danced in his seat.

“Have you had a drink? You should get a drink. It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re in the prime of your life! Live it up,” he urged with a slight slur as he grabbed a light blue beverage off of a passing tray and handed it to me.

“Now you know I don’t drink,” I told him as I slid the drink away from me and towards him. Besides the fact that alcohol clouded your mind and added to weight gain, which I couldn’t afford, I’d just turned seventeen a couple of weeks ago. That was quite a few years away from twenty-one even though people tended to turn a blind eye to the rules when you had money and a public face.

“Then at least eat something,” Raphael urged.

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough fun for the night,” I told him not wanting to avoid that subject. Especially in such a public arena and I knew Raphael wasn’t one to censure himself when he was drunk. He’d let it ALL out and I don’t need my business in anyone’s tabloid.

“But we just got here,” he whined, not ready to call it a night.

“Yeah,” I nodded in affirmation, “three hours ago. I’m not saying you have to leave but I have an early day tomorrow so I’m calling it a night.”

“Aright. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as he stood, his body still moving in time with the music.

“Of course. Get home safe,” I urged before grabbing my tiny clutch and exiting the house that was nestled deep within the Hollywood Hills. Flashes immediately went off and I covered my eyes with a pair of deeply pigmented sunglasses as the valet motioned for my driver to make his way to the head of the line. I ignored the questions the paparazzi were throwing at me, apparently I’m dating a NBA player I’ve never met, and slid into the back of the black limousine. My life was way more interesting on paper then it could ever be in real life.

Justin

I pressed my cell phone closer to my ear and looked down at Cameron who was asleep with her body molded against mine. I carefully pulled her arm and leg off of me before climbing out of the bed and leaving the room. I crept down the stairs and took a seat on my sectional in the living room before turning my attention back to person on the other end of the phone.

“Now slow down Britney. What’s wrong?” I asked her, thinking it was something serious because the two of us hadn’t spoken to one another in over a year. Not since I told her we wouldn’t be getting back together and she married her back up dancer. She’d popped out a kid for this dude…a kid that could, very well, have been mine had she not cheated on me.

“I’m just…I’m lonely Justin,” she spoke lowly. “Kevin’s always gone and at first I thought I’d be the good wife and let him have his fun but, more often than not, he and his friends are out in Vegas living it up on my tab and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“So what are you calling me for?” I asked her.

Yeah, that might have come off a bit harsh but was I supposed to coddle her and be her sound board for her problems? Those times were LONG gone. I was all for being there for her if she really needed me but the friendship we’d once shared was tossed in the same trash can as our relationship. I’ve seen her in passing but we haven’t had a conversation in damn near forever and then she calls me in the middle of the night because she’s lonely? Shit, she better call Felicia for all of that.

She was quiet for a moment, almost as if she wasn’t expecting me to say that, before clearing her throat and stating her purpose. “I know things didn’t end well with us but you’ve been a huge part of my life since we were little and you were the only person I thought to call. Ca-can you come over?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’ll be a good idea,” I told her. The devil on my shoulder was laughing, having a bit of gratification as she realized that she really fucked up a good thing when she screwed me over. Britney really ruined me for other women for a while. There were relationships I’ve had with some amazing women that I couldn’t open up to because I felt that if a girl I’ve known since I was twelve could cheat on me, then what’s so different about a woman I’ve just met? Even with Cameron, there’s still some doubt and times when I’m standoffish towards her and I know she’s not with me for anything other than the fact that she truly cares for me. Throwing shit in her face wasn’t why I told her no, though. The fact of the matter is that I was in a relationship with a good woman and I wouldn’t do her the way Britney did me. I may be and do a lot of things but that’s one place where I draw the line.

“Justin please,” Britney begged in a broken voice. She just wanted to be comforted but I couldn’t be her comforter. I won’t fuck up my life and all the work I’ve done to get out of that dark vindictive place I was in just to fall back into her clutches.

“I can’t Britney,” I told her. “I’ve got a girl and I’m not going to fuck up my relationship just because yours is screwed.”

“Fine!” she hissed and hung up the phone. I looked at the screen of my blackberry and shook my head before tossing the phone on the couch and heading back upstairs.

Jaxon

“Give me sexy!” the photographer yelled at me and the male model I was working with. “I want the tension to be felt through the film!”

“Hold my wrists,” I instructed the model who was stiffly holding his body above mine and waited until he had a good grip before throwing my leg over his waist and arching my back so my breasts pressed against his toned chest. I leaned my head back, giving him complete access to my neck.

“YES!” the photographer screamed. “Michael don’t make her do all the work! Pretend as if none of us were here and you’re about to make love!”

I really want to know who Michael knew that helped him get this job because he surely wasn’t qualified. Sure, he had a body but the boy didn’t know how to manipulate it at all. This was a lingerie shoot and the photographer shouldn’t have to give this much instruction. Shit, I shouldn’t have to give him any instruction. Pierre, the photographer, was clearly getting annoyed and I was ready to go. This lace La Perla bodysuit was my last outfit of the night and all I wanted to do was finish this and pick up something to eat.

Michael was still hovering awkwardly above me when I used my weight and suggestive pressure to switch positions so that I was on top. I positioned my legs on either side of him and pressed my hands on his sculpted chest and leaned down with my mouth dangerously close to his nipple, giving the illusion that I was licking it. Oh, that’s why he was so stiff, I thought as I felt his hard on pressing against me.

“And it’s a rap people!” Pierre called as he took the last photo.

I gently removed Michael’s hands from my body and climbed out of the bed. Raphael was already waiting for me with my robe. I shrugged it on as Pierre walked over and kissed my cheeks.

“En tant que toujours, vous étiez étonnant pour travailler avec. Cet jeune homme là-bas…pas tellement,” Pierre spoke easily causing me to laugh.

(As always, you were amazing to work with. That young man over there…not so much.)

“Merci, bonbon. Et ne soyez pas trop dur sur lui. Je pense que c’était sa première session de photo de lingerie,” I spoke lightly before heading to my dressing room and geting into my street clothes.

(Thank you, sweetie. And don’t be too hard on him. I think that it was his first lingerie photo shoot.)

“So what do you want to eat?” Raphael questioned as he bent down to tie the laces of his premium Nikes.

“I want some lasagna but I’m going to get a grilled chicken salad,” I told him and stuck my tongue out.

“Come on Jaxon,” Raphael urged as I buttoned my jeans. “You always eat that nasty ass rabbit food. Have a turkey burger or something.”

“You know I can’t,” I reminded him as I pulled on a thin tank top and slipped on my Old Navy flip flops.

“You weigh a buck fifteen soaking wet. I think you can handle a turkey burger and sweet potato fries,” he urged.

“Sweet potatoes aren’t fattening,” I mentioned lightly and seriously thought about it. I didn’t have another shoot scheduled for another week and a half. I could splurge on a turkey burger and sweet potato fries.

“Great! I am going to cook you the best burger you’ve had in your life. Trust,” Raphael assured as he grabbed the large Balenciaga city bag I’d brought in earlier and led the way out of the studio.