Choosing America's Next Superstar (15 page)

Stella raised an eyebrow.

“And you are?” She turned to Jimmy.

“This is my
friend
, Jimmy. He’s also a contestant.”

“Is this boy telling me the truth?” She asked Jimmy. “Is he as special as he claims to be?”

Jimmy quickly shook his head. “No, ma’am. He’s not as special as he says.” Corey looked at him, puzzled. “He’s far more special than that. He’s got one of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard, and he’s a pretty great guy too….”

Corey didn’t know what to say. He felt himself starting to choke up.

“Well, I’d say you’re both pretty blessed. Jimmy, who’s your coach?”

“You are, ma’am,” Jimmy replied.

Corey had been so excited and nervous when he looked at his handout that he hadn’t bothered to check to see which coach Jimmy had been assigned to.

“Well, now, ain’t that convenient,” Stella said. “Why don’t you two come right over here, and we’ll get started?”

“Now?” Corey said.

“Why not? We’re all here….”

And so the boys followed her over to her corner, where she worked with each one of them. They spent a full two hours with her, first selecting their songs and then going through them, line by line.

“You know, Mr. Corey Dunham, I think you may have been right about how special you are. You’re gonna do just fine. I’ll be at rehearsals tomorrow, and I’ll work with you some more then, but you’re well on your way. I’ve worked with a lot of contestants over the years, and I’ve got a good track record for picking winners. I bet you a dime to a donut that the both of you make it to the Top Ten.”

“Really?” Jimmy said.

She nodded emphatically. “Mark my words.”

The boys each hugged and thanked her before they left, then headed back to their room. Corey was psyched. He felt a rush of adrenaline pump through his veins. How could any of this be real? How could it actually be happening to him? All his life he’d dreamed of
Superstar
, and now here it was… almost a reality.

As they entered the elevator and watched the door close them in together, Jimmy reached down to grab hold of Corey’s hand. “Congratulations on making it through,” he whispered. He then leaned over and kissed Corey on the lips.

“Thank you, sexy,” Corey replied. “I love the song you picked out.”

“I hope the judges do,” Jimmy admitted.

“Oh, they will… well, three of them, anyway.”

“Yeah, you got that right.”

“What’s up with that Reuben, anyway?” Corey asked.

“That man is a monster. He’s an evil, evil man.”

Corey laughed, staring up at Jimmy for a moment, then realized he was serious. “Jimmy, what do you mean? He’s a jerk, but it’s not like you to call people evil.”

“Take my word. He’s evil!”

“Okay, then….”

The door came open, and they headed down the hall toward their room, still holding hands. When they got to their room, Corey fished in his pocket for the key. After inserting it, he pushed the door open and looked down at the floor. There was an envelope bearing his name.

“Hmm,” he said, scooping it up.

When he got inside, he flipped on a light switch and tore open the envelope. “Wow,” he said, “speak of the devil. Reuben Jameson sent me this invitation. He wants me to meet him in his hotel room tonight… alone.”

Chapter Eight

“
Y
OU
’
RE
not going!” Jimmy insisted.

“What do you mean, Jimmy? It’s Reuben… Reuben Jameson. How can I say no to him?”

Jimmy snatched the letter from Corey’s hand. “Let me see this.”

“Jimmy, just ’cause he’s an ass, and we don’t like him doesn’t mean I can just blow something like this off. If he wants to see me….”

“You don’t understand,” Jimmy said. He exhaled and walked across the room. After a moment, he fished out his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Dang it! Tristan must still be in rehearsal with his voice coach.”

“Look, I have to get going. This letter says they’re picking me up out front in, like, ten minutes.”

“In a limo,” Jimmy said.

“Well, yeah, in Reuben’s…. Wait! Tristan came back that one day in a limo. Do you think…?”

“Yes, Corey,” Jimmy said, frustrated. “Tristan has been going over to Reuben’s hotel room every night.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Jimmy knew this was making no sense to Corey, and he was torn. He somehow had to convince Corey not to meet with Reuben, but he couldn’t betray Tristan’s confidence. He stepped over to Corey and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen to me,” he pleaded. “You have to trust me. Don’t go over there.”

“Jimmy, calm down. Of course I have to go. Reuben’s the head of the show. He’s also a judge. If I ignore his request, I could get kicked off. And what’s it gonna hurt? It just doesn’t make any sense why he’d even want to see me in the first place….”

Jimmy looked Corey straight in the eye, not speaking.

“Oh my God,” Corey said, a dawning of realization striking him. “Reuben is summoning male contestants to his room late at night. Then they’re returning the next morning. And now… now he’s picked me.”

“Exactly! Corey, you can’t go.”

“But… Jimmy, I have to at least go over there. If he puts the moves on me, I can just tell him I’m not interested.”

“And what’re you gonna say if he tells you to either give him what he wants, or you’ll be history?”

“Blackmail me? I know you think he’s evil, but I doubt he’s that bad….”

Jimmy nodded slowly. “Corey, he’s that bad. Trust me.”

“And you’re telling me he’s been doing this shit with Tristan already, all along? Dude, that’s gross.”

“I’m not telling you anything… or, well… I promised Tristan I would keep this secret. But I had to tell you—to protect you.”

Corey stepped closer to him, pressing his body against Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy wrapped his arms around the shorter boy. “Actually, you didn’t tell me. I guessed. But what do I do?”

“We’ve got to report him,” Jimmy said.

“What’s there to report? And to whom?”

“I wish Tristan would call me back. I wanna get him to show you.” Jimmy wanted to say more, but he couldn’t.

“Jimmy, I know this much already. Just tell me. I won’t let on that I know anything. Please….”

“All right,” Jimmy sighed. He took Corey’s hand and led him over to the bed. They sat on the edge of the mattress, and Jimmy turned to him before he spoke. “Tristan is really messed up,” he whispered. “He has bruises and scrapes around his wrists where it looks like he’s been tied up or handcuffed or something. He’s got deep scrapes and cuts all across his back.”

“What? From Reuben?”

“He’s into bondage or something. He’s beating Tristan, whipping him.”

“No fucking way,” Corey said incredulously.

“It started out that Reuben just wanted to touch him, fondle him. They had sex… well, Reuben’s into all kinds of stuff. He does drugs. Tristan said he kept doing lines of coke and then… then after each line he’d want to have sex again. Every time more extreme.”

“How?”

“He takes pills too. Drugs to keep him aroused.”

“But, I mean, how is this happening? Why is Tristan letting it happen?”

“He’s scared. Reuben told him point blank he’d be cut if he didn’t cooperate.”

“That’s sick! And now… now he’s picked
me
? Why me? Why Tristan?”

Jimmy slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how he chooses his victims.”

C
OREY
’
S
hand was shaking when he knocked on the door. He held his breath and waited, trying to hear if there was movement on the other side. After a moment the door opened. Reuben stood there, smiling wryly in his silk bathrobe. His welcoming expression quickly faded when he saw Jimmy.

“I thought I told you to come alone,” Reuben said.

“We’re together,” Jimmy said.

“Well, you can just go back where you came from,” Reuben said flippantly. “If I have need of you, I’ll let you know… you’ll have your turn.”

“Look, we know what you’re doing,” Jimmy said as Corey stood there, looking on.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. On second thought, I have no use for either of you. You both may go.” He began to close the door, but Jimmy pushed his way through. Corey followed him inside.

“I’m calling Security,” Reuben said, stepping briskly across the room and picking up the receiver of the house phone.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jimmy said.

“I don’t know who you think you are….”

“Tristan Devere has bruises all over his body because of you.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about….”

“He’s fifteen,” Corey exclaimed.

Reuben stopped, his mouth dropping open as he placed the receiver back in its cradle. “You’re lying,” he said. “I saw the paperwork. I saw his birth certificate.”

“Don’t you ever watch TV?” Jimmy said. “Sometimes a birth certificate is not enough. Did you ask to see the long form?”

Corey grinned. “Reuben, you’ve been fucking a fifteen-year-old kid.”

“There is no proof,” he said.

“You think these hotels don’t have security cameras?” Jimmy said, stepping closer to him. “You think the bruises and lacerations all over that boy’s body can’t be photographed? Do you think Tristan didn’t save the notes you sent over to him, summoning him to your room every night?”

Reuben reached up with one hand and wiped his brow, then stepped over to the bar, pouring himself a scotch. “What the fuck do you want?” he said. “What’s your price?”

“Our
price
?” Jimmy said. “You’re a sick bastard!” This was the very first time Corey had ever heard Jimmy swear. “We don’t
want
anything from you. We want you to stop hurting our friend!”

“Mr. Jameson,” Corey said, “it’s right in the rules. Sexual contact is forbidden.”

Reuben laughed. “So now you’re going to lecture me on the rules… my
own
rules?”

“Okay, well, if you don’t wanna follow your own rules, what about the laws of the state of New York?” Jimmy said. “I’m sure having sex with a minor—a fifteen-year-old boy—is not legal.”

“You’re bluffing,” Reuben said. “The minimum age to be a contestant is sixteen, and Tristan Devere presented proof that he was of age at his audition.”

Jimmy stood there, glaring into Reuben’s face as the older man tossed back another shot. “The game is over, Reuben. Your child-molesting days are through….”

Corey could tell the man was scared.

Reuben stood there for a moment, obviously thinking. “You want an assurance? You want a guarantee that you won’t be cut? I can make that happen. I can put you through to the final round… if that’s what you want. I can make all your dreams come true.”

“We do want an assurance,” Jimmy said. “We want a guarantee that you’ll stop hurting Tristan.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Reuben said, pouring yet another drink. “The boy loved every second of it….”

Jimmy pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the police.”

“All right! Wait, you have my guarantee. I won’t touch him again.”

“Or any of the other contestants,” Corey said.

“Look,” Reuben said, “I don’t know who you think you’re playing with here. I can make things really wonderful for you—for both of you. Or I can make your lives a living hell. I told you I won’t touch your friend. Until you provide proof of the boy’s age, that’s all you’re getting.”

Corey looked at Jimmy, wondering what they should do. They had no proof of Tristan’s age. Tristan was seventeen, and the whole thing really was a bluff, but they had at least gotten a confession out of Reuben.

“And if we get cut from the competition because our performance sucked… fine,” Jimmy said. “But we better not be cut just because of revenge.”

“You’ll have your fair shot. If you’re good enough to earn the votes of the other three judges, you’ll go through, and I won’t stop you.”

“We don’t want to hear from you again,” Jimmy said, “unless it’s when we’re on stage.” Jimmy reached in his pocket and pulled out a handheld recorder. “We’ll see you at the next round.” Then Jimmy turned and grabbed Corey by the arm, leading him to the door while Reuben was left standing behind them, mouth agape.

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Corey whispered after they were in the hall.

“He might try to kick us out. He might separate us….”

“But we have his confession on tape.”

“Corey, once he finds out we were lying about Tristan’s age, he’s gonna be pissed. Hopefully the tape will be enough to save us, but there are always scandals associated with these shows. I’m sure he doesn’t want the world to know he likes having sex with young male twinks, but he’s an egomaniac.”

“Let’s go back to our room. This place gives me the creeps.”

I
T
WAS
1:00 a.m., and the three boys were huddled together in Jimmy and Corey’s room.

“Maybe we should call the media,” Corey suggested. “The TV station or the newspaper. What about one of those magazines?”

“I think we need a lawyer,” Jimmy said.

“No!” Tristan pleaded. “You guys, this would kill my mom if she found out. He said he’d stop, so let’s just drop it.”