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Authors: Jeff Erno

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Choosing America's Next Superstar
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“But he forced Corey! He blackmailed him.”

“Yes, I know, but Corey is nineteen. If the prosecutor takes the case, Jameson will be charged with statutory rape and child molestation, but the charges will be associated with two of the other victims.”

“That’s fine,” Corey said. “Just so he’s charged and can’t keep doing this.”

“We have their testimonies, but we don’t have photos like you provided.”

“So it’ll just be their word against his?”

“I do think that we may be able to use Corey’s and Tristan’s testimony to corroborate, though. If so, Jameson is in deep shit.”

“Mr. Burbank,” Jimmy began.

“Please call me Devin.”

“Mr. Devin, I have something else I need to tell you.”

He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the table. “Go ahead.”

“Reuben has pictures of me… and a video. He was using this to blackmail Corey.”

“I don’t understand. Why would pictures of you give Jameson any leverage over Corey? Was Corey also in the pictures?”

“We’re gay,” Corey said, “and Jimmy and I are a couple. We love each other.”

Devin nodded. “Okay. Well, how did Jameson get this video?”

“A couple years ago when I was back home in Kentucky, I met a guy on the Internet who said he was looking for models. I talked to him on webcam, and he offered to pay me a thousand dollars to be in his movie.”

“An adult movie?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly know what I was getting into, but my family needed the money. He flew me to Los Angeles, I made the movie and took the money. He paid me cash, and I took it back home to my family.”

“And Jameson found the video on the Internet?”

“Reuben apparently owns this adult movie company,” Corey said. “He had the video already, but supposedly it’s never been released. He said if I don’t do everything he says, then he will sell the video, kick Jimmy off of the show, and ruin him forever.”

Jimmy slid the manila envelope across the table toward Devin. He opened it discreetly and looked inside. “Wow,” he said. Jimmy blushed.

“I can’t believe you’re just now telling me this. I thought Corey was being blackmailed by Jameson by being threatened to be kicked out of the competition.”

“We tried to stop Reuben back in New York. He wanted Corey back then, but we threatened to expose him. Tristan was too scared, though.”

“You said this video was made two years ago?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re nineteen now?” Jimmy nodded. “So this is a huge problem for Jameson. There is a reason he never released this video. All of these porn companies—the ones that are legit—are very fastidious about keeping records. They’re required to have on file a copy of the ID of every model.”

“Yeah, they asked me for a driver’s license, and I told ’em I ain’t got one. So they made me sign a paper. But I thought the age of consent was seventeen.”

“The paper doesn’t mean anything. What they probably planned to do was date the affidavit after you turned eighteen and claim that they filmed the video at a later date. If they were audited, they’d have to contact you and get you to send them a copy of your ID. Age-of-consent laws do not apply to pornography. Filming or photographing anyone under the age of eighteen is considered child pornography. It’s a felony.”

“Really? Well, don’t worry, I’m not sending them anything,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“No, of course not. But these videos are worthless. That right there is another criminal case in and of itself. If you do well in this competition, the publicity could be more damaging to you than if we just dropped it.”

“Can you at least get the video?”

“I’ll try,” he said. “But don’t worry about it. Reuben is going to have enough problems to deal with. He’s not so stupid that he’d risk being exposed as a child pornographer.”

“Devin, what should we do? Reuben will be back on Monday, and I know he’s gonna contact me,” Corey said.

“Do nothing,” Devin said. “Mr. Jameson is bluffing. He can’t do anything with this video. Probably the reason he’s holding onto it is because he doesn’t want it to get into anyone else’s hands. He knows the laws. He’s known all along that Jimmy was underage. If you get any more notes from Jameson, don’t respond to them. If you get any visits from him, ask him to leave, or call security.”

“Why don’t you just go arrest him?” Jimmy asked.

“That will be up to the prosecutor. They’ll need to do a full investigation, which could take weeks or months.”

“And in the meantime, Reuben will keep doing this stuff,” Corey said, infuriated.

“Well, he can’t touch either of you. Is there anyone else in the competition that might be in danger?”

“There are ten other guys,” Jimmy said. “Half of us will be voted off next week, though. None of them are the same type as Corey. It seems like all of Reuben’s victims have that same sort of look.”

“Cute white boys,” Devin said.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, so I am going to go forward with this and turn everything over to the district attorney’s office. You may be contacted by them. If so, call me. Don’t say anything to anyone, and if you do get called for questioning, tell them you want your lawyer present.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy said.

“And stop calling me sir,” he said with a wink. “My daddy is ‘sir’. I’m Devin.”

“Yes, Mr. Devin. Sorry.”

Chapter Fourteen

 

F
OR
the first week of the competition, there would be three broadcasts. On Tuesday evening, the male contestants would perform. Wednesday would feature the female contestants, and the results show would be on Thursday. The first week was the scariest, because almost half of the Top Twenty-four would be eliminated. The top ten vote-getters would automatically move on in the competition. The judges would select three other contestants out of the remaining fourteen. Those three “wild card” choices would also move on, but the remaining eleven would go home.

Everyone prayed that they would be among the lucky thirteen who were saved. Corey knew that this was the biggest hurdle. To have made it this far in the competition—all the way through the audition process and the New York elimination rounds—only to then be voted off in the first week, would be horrible. But if he were lucky and could make it past this week, Reuben would not be able to touch him. From that point forward, the worst thing Reuben would be able to do would be to offer negative feedback about his performance. The history of the show indicated that the general public did not place much stock in Reuben’s critical opinions, though. Often they voted the opposite of how Reuben advised.

“I’m nervous,” Corey confessed to Jimmy.

“You’re gonna do great. We both are.” Jimmy squeezed his hand. They were standing backstage along with the other twenty-two performers but were in the back of the group. At the opening of the show, the entire twenty-four would take the stage for a group song. Corey looked up at a clock on the wall, noticing they were only ten minutes from going live.

“At least he never contacted me,” Corey said. “I wonder why?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter what he does from now on. Just concentrate on doing your best, and he won’t be able to touch you.”

When Dylan Seagraves stepped into the room, all eyes turned to face him.

“Good evening, Superstars,” he said cheerfully. “We’re five minutes to airtime. Everyone ready?”

Corey didn’t feel ready at all. He’d never performed before such a huge audience. To make matters worse, he knew that he was going to be seen by most of the country and a good portion of the world. He wasn’t sure if he felt more like throwing up or passing out.

I’m at home in Mom’s bedroom, holding the extension cord in my hand, dancing in front of the mirror. It’s just the two of us, Mom and me, and she’s so proud of me.

He had to find a way to distance himself from the reality of the situation. He had to carve out a safe mental space for himself, or he’d never make it through.

All my life I’ve dreamed of only one thing: singing. It is who I am and what I was born to do. From the time I was born, I’ve lived for this moment… and at last it’s here. I know I can do it. I didn’t come all this way to fail.

The next thing he knew, the houselights went down and Dylan stepped out on stage into the spotlight. “I’m Dylan Seagraves, and we’re here tonight to choose America’s
Next
Superstar!”

The theme song for the show blared as Corey felt himself being ushered out on stage. Without thinking, he stepped in line, meticulously following the rehearsed choreography. As the lights shone on him and the other contestants, he couldn’t even see beyond the edge of the stage, and he sang the lines he’d memorized. It sort of felt like he was in a trance, but he knew his part so well that it just flowed out of him.

Minutes later, the music had ended. He made it through the opening song and even did well with his small solo. They were now at a commercial break, and the houselights were back up. Quickly the female contestants were directed offstage to sit in a designated section of the audience. The male contestants congregated backstage.

Thankfully, Corey did not have to do his song first. He was scheduled to perform fourth. Jimmy was sixth. The first contestant, a twenty-two-year-old African American named Eli Brown, did exceptionally well. The crowd reaction was thunderous, and all four judges heaped praises upon him afterward. The next two performers didn’t fare so well. They both stumbled, and one was even flat throughout his song.

After a second commercial break, it was at last Corey’s turn to sing. Dylan introduced him by first showing a brief video of his audition. Corey felt his face redden as he watched himself on the monitor. Then suddenly the intro was over, the lights went down, and the music started. Corey stepped out on stage, exactly as he’d rehearsed, and began to sing.

For that three and a half minute time period, the earth seemed to stand still. Corey felt as if he’d been transported to another plane, and he sang with all his heart. Every note perfect, every syllable of his lyrics crystal clear. The emotion of the song bubbled up from deep inside him as he belted out the lyrics, rising at just the right moment to tackle the climax of the song. When he got to the dramatic finale, the high notes at the end, he nailed them.

Sweating profusely and out of breath, he remained center stage and took a bow as tears streamed down his cheeks. The houselights began to come up, and he saw the entire audience was on their feet—even the judges.

Somehow he’d done it. He’d made it through his performance, and done so flawlessly. Not a single negative comment was uttered by any of the judges, not even Reuben. Raymond even went so far as to proclaim him the “voice to beat” in the competition.

After his performance, he was allowed to take a seat in the audience and watch the remaining performances. There was only one he cared about.

When it was Jimmy’s turn to perform, Corey laughed right out loud as he watched his adorable audition tape. That was exactly how he looked that first day they met. He was sexy in his tight blue jeans and T-shirt. His accent seemed so much more pronounced back then. After the intro tape concluded, the lights went down, then suddenly a red spotlight appeared on Jimmy, who was sitting on a stool center stage. He was strumming his guitar.

Corey was pleased that Jimmy had chosen a country ballad. That was definitely Jimmy’s strength, and his rich baritone voice was perfect for that type of song. His performance was magnificent. It literally brought tears to Corey’s eyes, and of course he felt as if every word of the song was directed right at him personally.

The crowd reaction was almost equal to what Corey had received, but the judges weren’t quite as kind. Three of the judges were complimentary, but Reuben raked him over the coals.

“I’m sorry, but it felt very karaoke to me. Very amateurish.” The crowd booed Reuben for his negativity. Clearly they loved it in spite of Reuben’s mean-spirited remarks.

After the show, Corey and Jimmy shared a limo back to the hotel. Jimmy had the driver stop at a liquor store. Since he wasn’t old enough to buy real champagne, he got a nonalcoholic version along with some plastic wine glasses.

“There are wine glasses in the minibar back at the hotel,” Corey reminded him.

“I wanted to get something special,” Jimmy said. Corey laughed and kissed him. “We have to celebrate.”

“How can we celebrate if we don’t even know yet if we’ve won?”

“Because we did our best, and no matter what anyone says, we couldn’t possibly do more than that.”

They were petting heavily when the limo finally stopped in front of the hotel. “Can’t we just stay here all night?” Corey asked.

“You never did it before in the back of a limo?”

“Not yet….”

Just then the door opened. The chauffeur was letting them out.

“We’ll have to work on fulfilling that fantasy before we go home,” Jimmy said with a wink. He crawled out of the car, and Corey quickly followed. Jimmy’s arm was around his shoulder as they walked through the front door and headed toward the elevator.

“We could do it in the elevator too,” Corey suggested. “Another unfulfilled fantasy.”

BOOK: Choosing America's Next Superstar
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