The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (43 page)

Lance and I walk onto the stage.

Codie says to Lance, “Dude, I’m straight as a hard on, but with this pirate shirt you’re wearing, even I’d fuck you.” Codie reaches out and tugs on Lance’s open tuxedo shirt front in a brazen alpha male display.

Lance smirks, “So you admit I’m so good looking you can’t help but wonder if my abs make you a wee bit gay for me?” Lance holds up his thumb and finger a millimeter apart.

Codie chuckles and lifts the bottom of his
COCKSURE Entertainment
T-shirt without a second thought, revealing incredible abs of his own, which he flexes impressively.

Lance and I both look, because it’s sort of hard not to stare when someone peels their shirt up right in front of you.

Codie taunts Lance, “Who’s a wee bit gay now?”

“I don’t know, man. Looks to me like you manscape the shit outta that shit. Do you do your nails too? You know, get a mani-pedi on the weekends with all your bros at your favorite West Hollywood spa?”

They both laugh, completely enjoying the verbal sparring like old friends. They only met once before when they came here to the Orpheum to plan out stunts, but they totally hit it off like best buds.

“Pfft,” I snort. “Men. You two are a bromatch made in heaven. My dressing room is empty right now if you guys need a moment alone.”

Codie lowers his shirt hem and grins at me, “Speaking of fucking, is this guy fucking you?” He hooks a thumb toward Lance.

My face glows red and I chuckle. “Ummm…”

Lance just smiles, amused.

Codie says, “Cause if he’s not, I totally will.”

“Not if I don’t let you,” I laugh.

“You will,” he chuckles.

“I will what?” I press.

Codie smirks, “Where’s the fun if I have to tell you?”

“Easy, Codie,” Lance says casually, unworried. “She’s mine.”

“That’s right,” I say. Although I’m completely in love with Lance, I’m glad he’s beside me. Codie is magnetic and difficult to resist. He just needs a reminder I’m off limits. I lean into Lance and cup his balls through his tight tuxedo pants and smirk at Codie. “You see this package?”

Codie nods appreciatively. “Damn. Nice dick, dude. Almost as big as mine.” He winks at Lance. “Almost, as in not even close.”

Lance chuckles, “Dude, you need glasses.”

Codie points both index fingers at his
COCKSURE Entertainment
shirt. “Did you not read the shirt?”

Lance rolls his eyes and laughs, “Okay, enough with the comparing dicks. I call a dick truce. We’ve got work to do.”

I giggle.

“You got it,” Codie laughs. “Dick truce.” The two of them bump fists. “We’re here to work, right?”

I can’t resist one last joke, so I say, “You two can hold each other’s dicks later.”

They both roll their eyes.

I smirk, “I mean, that’s what you two are dying to do, right?”

They both snort laughter.

“You two look really guilty,” I joke.

Codie says, “Back to the stunts.” He takes a deep breath, still snickering at his behavior. “Right, stunts. I don’t want anyone getting hurt today.” He’s all business now. “When that chandelier falls on the audience, it’s going to be dangerous no matter how much rigging we have supporting the breakaway pieces. By the way, the way your dad designed the frame for that thing is genius. I need to get that guy working for me. Anyway, it’ll be controlled chaos with everyone jumping out of the way and tumbling over theater seats. Lot of chances to catch ankles or break wrists if people don’t fall just right. So we need to coordinate everyone’s exit path from the chandelier.”

Lance nods, “Of course.”

Lance and Codie talk in detail about the placement of the stunt performers and how the action will be choreographed. You’d think they were laying out plays for a Super Bowl game or an actual battle based on how many moving parts the chandelier scene will have.

Jens, whose name I found out is pronounced “Yenz” when he taught me how to say it earlier, walks up to Lance and Codie and says in his Swedish accent, “Guys, are you ready for first shot?”

“Yeah man,” Lance says, “Let’s make this shit happen.” He grabs the bullhorn from the assistant director who is standing next to us on stage. “
Places, everybody! Time to get this show on the road!
” Then he motions to the costume guy, who carefully places the silver mask on Lance’s face.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

The day is a blur of activity. Everything moves so fast, I barely have time to think. I do my best to be where I need to be when I need to be there. Since it’s a music video, I don’t have any lines to memorize. My job is simply to look pretty, which Lance convinced me I would be a natural at, and emote.

In the video, I play the part of Christine, the young opera singer the Phantom could never have. The visual story of the video follows the classic Phantom of the Opera novel fairly closely. I know, because Lance made me read his tattered copy, which was full of his notes scribbled in the margins.

Lance’s depth never ceases to amaze me. He knows the classic tale inside and out. What struck me most about the tragic novel was that the Phantom was sometimes called the Angel of Music, and that young Christine believed the Phantom was her own musical angel, sent from heaven by her father to guide her singing career. That’s not exactly what Lance did when he came into my life, because I’m not a singer, but he brought with him the music of our love.

I don’t have any acting experience except a few grade school plays, but it’s easy because I bring my real emotions for Lance to all of our scenes as Christine and the Phantom. Even with a camera in my face and all the blaring lights, all of my focus is on Lance and the love I feel for him.

With Lance foremost in my heart, I get lost in the romance of it all.

The day is long and the work is hard, but I love every second of it. Before I know it, we’ve worked late into the night and we’re down to the final scene when Christine and the Phantom kiss for the first and only time.

Between our costumes, the ambience of the Orpheum Theatre, and the on-set fog (which mutes my awareness of the ever-present steadicam operator), all of it feels real.

When Lance and I kiss, it’s electric.

I forget that this is make believe.

It feels real.

Like I am living the classic fairy tale.

The moment Lance gets down on one knee as the Phantom and removes his mask, baring his soul, nearly breaks my heart. I don’t see a monstrous devil. I see the angel inside his eyes. He looks deeply into my soul, staring up at me as if he is in terrible pain, his sadness so great that his heart is on the verge of bursting from an explosion of joy and love and imminent rejection because the Phantom knows he can never spend forever with Christine. His eyes shimmer with his desperate love. I feel deeply the Phantom’s hidden pain as if it is Lance’s own and therefore mine. It overwhelms me and I nearly lose it in front of the camera and start sobbing, wanting desperately to break character and smother Lance with real kisses of real love and eternal reassurance, but I manage to hold myself together. Even so, real tears pour down my face as I lean down to kiss him, my hands gently cupping his makeup-deformed jaw as our lips touch. The kiss makes me feel like we’re both floating toward heaven, lifted up by our love.

But as everyone knows, the story of the Phantom is a tragedy, and Christine’s kiss must come to an end.

I break contact with Lance’s lips and my world comes crumbling down. It takes everything I have to hold myself together in front of the camera and not collapse on the floor.

After an infinite moment of terrible sorrow, Lance finally breaks character and yells, “Cut!”

The crew starts wandering around and chattering, doing whatever they need to do.

I’m still lost in the moment, overcome by sadness, feeling the Phantom’s loneliness as if it is mine.

“Are you okay?” Lance whispers, his hand on my costume-covered shoulder.

I shake my head, holding in tears. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I sniff.

“No you’re not.” He wraps me in his arms without hesitation. As busy as Lance has been since we started filming this morning, directing everybody, answering thousands of questions, making last minute decisions, he steps away from his role as leader to focus on me, to focus on his role as lover, as the one man in my life who matters above all others.

I cherish this man.

I hug him back fiercely, disappearing into his warmth and love, feeling the intimate connection of our souls. A real and special connection of complete and timeless love that the Phantom of the novel will never know. I weep in Lance’s arms as I grieve for the fictitious Phantom and all the lost souls of the world who will never know the kind of special love that Lance and I share.

Lance kisses the top of my head gently.

He whispers, “I love you, Chastity Shields. I love you with all my heart.”

I finally break down and sob against him.

“I love you too, Lance. I love you so much…”

++++8++++

CHASTITY

Everyone crowds around the monitors backstage to watch the video playback of the scene we just shot: The Kiss.

“
Va coolt
,” Jens says, grinning from ear to ear. “This video is going to be incredible, Lance. I’m telling you.”

“You said it, Jens,” Lance nods, also smiling. “That’s a wrap, people!” He holds his hands up and starts clapping. The crew joins in, applauding and cheering. “Time for the champagne! I want everyone down here for a toast!”

A crew member wheels over a craft services cart loaded with champagne glasses and unopened bottles. Several people help pop corks and pour. The rest of the crew scattered around the opera house make their way backstage. It’s so late, Charity and Dad have already gone home.

Lance puts his arm around me.

We both hold champagne glasses filled with Martinelli’s sparkling apple cider. Mr. McKnight holds one too, as do several of the other crew members. But everyone else has regular champagne.

“You guys did a fucking awesome job today,” Lance says, holding up his glass.

The crew cheers.

“We couldn’t have made it through this long ass shoot without all of your dedication and hard work. I’m fucking impressed.”

More cheers.

“I have to thank some people for today. Julian Whittaker, where the fuck are you?”

Julian steps out from behind a row of crew members and holds up his glass.

“Julian paid for all this shit, so round of applause.”

The crew claps and hoots.

Julian grins and raises his glass.

Lance then runs down a thank you list of everyone on the crew, thanking nearly all of them by name. I don’t know how he remembers them all because I sure can’t.

“And I want to thank my Dad.”

Mr. McKnight chuckles.

“Even though we didn’t need your expert welding skills today, you welded the shit out of that chandelier during pre-pro. It was an honor to have you be a part of this thing.”

“It was an honor to help, son” Mr. McKnight’s eyes are obviously wet. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me too, Dad. Me too.” Lance’s throat is tight. He clears it several times, looking at his feet, the emotion of the moment getting to him.

The crew starts to mumble.

“Don’t drink yet,” Lance chuckles. “One more person to thank. The most important of all. Sarah?”

One of the assistant directors named Sarah, who I do remember, squeezes through the gathered crew holding a huge bouquet of roses. She puts it in my hands.

The plastic wrapping crinkles as I hug it to my chest. I mutter, “Oh, Lance, you shouldn’t have.”

“Too late. Already did it,” Lance winks at me. To the crew he says, “We literally would not be here tonight if it wasn’t for the love of my life, Chastity Shields. She made this shit happen, guys.” Scattered applause and a whistle. “I’ve never met anybody like her.” He starts to choke up, tears near. He sniffs them back. “So let’s give her a huge hand.”

The crew erupts with loud cheering and I gaze deeply into Lance’s eyes. I absolutely love and adore all of his devilish qualities, but there is an angelic sweetness to him that I never would’ve imagined lay beneath his dangerous exterior. He really is the most amazing man in the world.

There is no one like Lance McKnight.

And I love him with all my heart.

“Quiet, everybody! I’ve got one more thing I have to say.” Lance puts his arm around me. “They say behind every successful man is a good woman. In my case, that is absolutely true. When I thought everything in my life was falling apart, this woman right here stepped up to the plate and did what she had to do to keep me on track.” He winks at me. “When I had given up, she went to bat one more time. She succeeded where I failed. She was willing to risk everything to make my dream come true.
My
dream. Without you, Chastity Shields, I would be back to…” He glances at Mr. McKnight, who is quietly crying. Then he closes his eyes for a second, overcome by emotion. “Without you, Chastity, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

There’s an ominous quality to his words that frightens me to death. So I wrap both arms awkwardly around his waist and hug him as hard as I can, never wanting to let go.

He hugs me back and kisses the top of my head, then separates us. He reaches into his open tuxedo shirt.

He pulls something out.

He gets down on one knee.

He opens a pink velvet box.

He looks up into my eyes. His sparkle with the same brilliant clarity as the small ring in the pink velvet box.

“Pink,” he winks, “I mean, Chastity Shields, will you do me the honor of being my savior, my lover, the woman of my dreams, the woman who saves me from myself, the woman who is my everything? Chastity Shields, will you marry me?”

My entire body shakes.

I physically can’t speak.

Can’t.

Say.

A.

Word.

Epilogue

CHASTITY

EIGHT MONTHS LATER…

“Damn, that is one fucking view,” Lance chuckles.

We stand on the very top of the Eiffel Tower. Not the one in Vegas, which Lance took me to several months ago. I’m talking the real one. In France.