The door to the cage elevator in the old brownstone building slid open once it had reached its destination, that being the top floor of the old but well maintained brick building in the Pacific Palisades neighborhood. It was a location that we've been privy to being invited to every so often, but given the busy lifestyle that the loft's owner currently led as a competitive professional wrestler, alongside his tag team partner and close friend, Ben Jordan, it was small wonder that Jamie Dean did not get to return here as often as he would like. Here is a little fact that so many in SCW tend to forget to tell their families and friends, or they simply choose to neglect the facts so as to assuage their own egos:
But those who compete on the independent wrestling scene do not get paid multi-million dollar contracts.
Sin City Wrestling had grown substantially over the years since its birth, and true to the generousness of the promotion's Benefactors, Mark and Christian paid their wrestlers well. Even better now that SCW was being hosted in legitimate sports venues as opposed to the high school gymnasiums they had started out in. Still, millions of dollars was not in the salaries of the Superstars and Bombshells who remained loyal to Mister Ward and Mister Underwood. Even the low thousands was stretching it. No, some guaranteed contracts and percentages of the gates was what drew in the income of most of SCW's men and women. Anything extra as far as extracurricular income generally came from outside wrestling opportunities and business acumen elsewhere.
Some wrestlers had legitimate wealth outside of SCW, and Ben Jordan, one-half of the World Tag Team Champions was one of them. Having had dealing in real estate transactions had left him with a comfortable lifestyle to enjoy, but he was also a gentle and humble enough young man not to allow money to deface his personality as so many others would. He remained kind and generous, always willing to step in and lend a hand where it was needed, and give you the shirt off of his back even were it not. (We know! Jamie has repeatedly attempted to get Ben's shirt off at one point or another!)
Jamie, however? He was by no means wealthy, although he was comfortable. It was past business dealings as a wrestler for Can-Am and a adult model and film actor that gave him what he had to enjoy to this day. And not over spending money in a livacious manner was what kept him in that very comfort as we speak. And unlike Ben, he did not have the means to simply hop on a jet at a moment's notice to fly anywhere he pleased, nor fly back to Los Angeles on a whim while traveling on the road during one of his many touring stretches for SCW. Many a time Ben had and would still offer to front the bill to fly Jamie home out of his own pocket, but Jamie had yet to accept. Contrary to what his public shenanigans might suggest, he had his pride. He would rather venture home after a show and remain there so long as he was able before the touring process would start all over again. Otherwise, he would stay in the hotels provided by SCW; one of the few luxuries the indy promotion would afford the men and women who put their bodies on the line for the Benefit of the public.
Yet here and now? Yes we are indeed back in the building that housed Jamie's loft home, and no he was not alone. He was accompanied once again by Ben Jordan, a man whose genuine friendship over these many months was a welcome change to Mister Dean and filled a personal void he had not even known he had allowed himself to suffer through. Oh he had friends, make no mistake about that! But the vast majority of them were of the female persuasion or of the gay male lifestyle. He had only one straight male friend, a rarity in his life, and his name was Ben Jordan. It had recently come to light that Jamie's feelings for Ben had gone beyond that of mere friendship and camaraderie. Ben, being the sort of man he was, let Jamie know that although the feelings were not reciprocated, they did not scare him off nor did they make him uncomfortable. The bond between the two men remained, endured, even thrived.
Ben was just like that; a people person, comfortable in his own self. And Jamie? He was still trying to get used to the idea that there was a straight male out there who actually wanted to be his friend. Past scars and experiences told him all different tales to the contrary.
That was just one of the reasons why, behind Jamie, Ben set foot out of the elevator in the long stretch of hallway. (Well, that and he personally preferred not to be the first one out of any room with Jamie behind him. He didn't care if Jamie had an eyeful of his backside, but the lad had a serious case of "naughty hands" and tended to leave bruises!) Ben knew that while abroad, or just in California for SCW purposes, he was more than welcome to crash at Jamie's loft. It had all the comforts of home as opposed to the airs of a cold and impersonal hotel, and Jamie would have none of that where a friend was concerned. Ben was not the only one who stayed under his roof when in the area. There were times where Amy Marshall, and even Sam Marlowe, had stayed over. Ben was simply his most frequent guest, and truth be told, Jamie liked being able to do something so simple yet so appreciated for a buddy.
"You have got to be the biggest kid this side of the Pacific, mate." Ben quipped in good humor, pulling his luggage along behind him, the wheels making a gentle drum along the wooden floorboards of the hallway. It was late in the evening as he had landed at the LA airport where Jamie had picked him up as was their usual routine when touring California. There was one window in this hallway, and the moon could already be seen peeking from behind the clouds outside and the old fashioned lights on the hall's brick walls had already come on automatically.
"Am not!" Jamie responded in a mournful pout, pausing to stomp his foot as a child might. But he let the comment slide, knowing Ben was just teasing -- maybe. Ben's ammo was resolute in the fact that before they had come to the loft after the airport, Jamie had insisted on stopping at one of the local Halloween party stores to pick up a slew of fresh supplies for a Halloween party he had been busily preparing for in his spare time.
"You were getting a right off number of odd looks from that store's staff." Ben chuckled as Jamie fished his keys from his pocket.
"I get those looks everywhere." Jamie pointed out as he inserted the key into the door's lock, then paused. He frowned and looked back over his shoulder at Ben and added, "Did I just take a hidden dig at myself?"
"Yes you did," Ben nodded. "And lucky for me those cameras are always around to record every glowing moment."
Jamie frowned, then looked around and over at us, thus at the camera, and he groaned, "Christ! Why do I always forget those things are everywhere?"
"Damned if I know." Ben sighed. "That's probably how you ended up on those funny websites of yours."
"No, that was intentional." Jamie gifted his buddy with a wink before turning the knob and shoving the door to his home wide open. He gave Ben a courtly bow and a wave of the arm before he said, "After you."
Ben started to take a step toward the door before he was given pause and he asked, "That crazy bird fan o' mine isn't waiting to pounce on me again, is she?"
"No, you're safe." Jamie laughed, remembering full well the high level of enthusiasm Ben seemed to generate where Jamie's, and yes, Ben's mutual friend Kathy was concerned. For a raging, classic lesbian, Kathy just couldn't keep her hands off the man! And who could blame her!?
Having been reassured, Ben strolled casually past Jamie and set foot into the threshold of the loft, but took utmost care to allow the luggage to draw up straight behind his, well, behind -- intentionally obstructing Jamie's view that Ben knew his friend was aiming for. This, of course, resulted in an audible...
"Aw! You're no fun!"
"Call it an act of self preservation, mate!"
"You're a damn tease, you know that?" Jamie smiled, despite himself, as he shut the door behind them and set the bags in his hands down. Ben's only reply to this accusation was the beaming smile that he had perfected into a work of art, and that wink that would melt a polar ice cap. But once Ben turned around and took in his surroundings for the first time, he stood in pause before looking back to his friend and host and asked, "You wanna run that denial of being a big kid by me again?"
Ben was, of course, referencing the fact that Jamie had turned his usual tastefully decorated home into a person's hedonistic sense of Heaven, if Heaven was decorated courtesy of the Halloween section of your local Wal-Mart. Streamers of purple, black and orange dangled from every place imaginable that they could be hung, and about every door and window frame were small orange and black lights, wrapped around table legs and the central lamp's stand. Fake cobwebs were stretched in every nook and cranny, plastic stick on images were stuck on the windows and little nick knacks such as plastic skulls, rubber spiders and toy bats were seen about.
"Hey I think it looks pretty good." Jamie smiled as he picked the bags up from the floor and moved further into his home as Ben set his luggage in their usual spot by the sofa that converted into his bed. Jamie had offered to share his bed but Ben was far too smart to fall for that trick, much to Mister Dean's chagrin. Ben sat himself down, almost groaning in pleasure at the comfort the sofa offered him as opposed to the seats on the jet, even if he were in first class.
Jamie started to put his things into a cupboard in the kitchen area before he said, "Besides, it's not finished. Wait until party night then you'll really see something!"
Being ever the gracious host, Jamie fished an ice cold bottle of his favorite red wine from the fridge and poured both he and Ben a tall glass. It had nothing to do with wanting to get the Cockney King sloshed. Nothing at all! As he handed Ben his glass, Jamie had a seat on the chair opposite him to relax himself and asked, "Don't you like it?"
"Naw, it's not like that." Ben answered, taking a sip of his drink before setting the glass carefully on the glass stand beside the sofa. "Halloween just isn't my usual thing."
"Seriously?"
Ben shrugged. "Oh I like it well enough. Seeing the tots in their colorful costumes and handing them candy when I can, but the way some adults act? Worse than kids. And those horror movies just aren't my thing. Never have been really."
Jamie smiled with a trace of mischief on his lips and asked suggestively, "So if Elvira threw herself into your arms and screamed 'Do me! Do me now!', you'd not curl her toes?" He took a drink of his own wine while Ben playfully contemplated the aforementioned question, looking in the air and rubbing his jaw thoughtfully before shaking his head in the negative.
"Wow." Jamie's eyebrows rose as he took another drink. "I'm as gay as a fruit basket and I'd probably still tap that."
Ben half raised his glass to his lips before that particular statement caused him to pause with raised brow. Jamie then set his own glass down and started to say, "Okay, so I ordered our usual Chinese delivery on the way up, so it shouldn't be too much longer. Ben..." Jamie clasped his fingers together into an interwoven lock and Ben had a feeling he knew what was about to be said. Jamie had kept saying it for weeks on end, ever since...
"I just wanted to thank..."
"Thank me for helping foot the bill for your business venture?" Ben smiled, finishing his thought for him. Ben was referring to Jamie's decision to retire from working at a hot LA nightclub in order to open his own; one to Benefit gay teenagers and help keep them off the street and out of trouble. But it served as so much more than that, and this was what made Ben want to be a part of the venture as well; the building itself would also serve as a homeless shelter for gay teens, boys and girls, who lost their homes due to ignorance and homophobia from within their own families. It would offer them safety. It would offer them shelter. It would give them a chance to move ahead in life where otherwise they would have little chance. It was but the first in a number of charitable ventures he and Jamie had planned, and it all had to start somewhere.
Every meaningful path had a beginning.
Jamie smiled, despite himself, and said, "I guess I've already thanked you a time or two, haven't I?"
"Maybe once or twice." Ben exaggerated. "And you can stop, mate. You said it yourself; my helping out made me a partner in this, although I would have been happy to turn over the reigns completely..."
"No." Jamie shook his head and sat up straight. "Not a chance. I could never have gotten this far without your help so I'd prefer it if you stayed at the forefront of this whole thing. If I'm about to fuck things up, I want you to step up and say so."
"Oh don't you worry!" Ben chuckled. "I can do that much! Just ... let's just make it happen, alright? No more unnecessary thanks."
"They're not unnecessary." Jamie said, and he honestly believed that. Few people would have done for him what Ben did, and it meant too much. Thanks was the very least that he could do, even though Ben was now a full partner. He continued, "But I can at least try."
Ben nodded, and reached for his glass when another form hopped up onto the sofa beside him and stood with its front paws on Ben's thighs. This would be the diminutive form of Jamie's cat, or as he would call him 'his little man', the Siamese cat affectionately named Anubis. This new addition to Jamie's household came as a surprising welcome thanks in part to mutual friend Sam Marlowe. The always caring young woman knew Jamie was lonely and needed someone to shower with love and affection, and until that special someone entered his life, Sam adopted this special someone and passed it into his care. Ben would at times tease Jamie worrying about this cat when they were on the road, defending the tag titles against any and all comers, but then the idea came to his circle of friends for the nineteen year old friend of Jamie's and Kathy and Sandra, Chad, to stay at the loft whenever Jamie was gone. That way Chad could have some independence and Anubis would have company without being left alone.
Ben absently reached up and started to scratch the cat behind the ears, eliciting a soft purr and the Cockney King almost regretted his affectionate action as the feline started to "mix dough" on his legs, causing him to wince.
"Bloody..." Ben closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "You really need to get this lad's claws trimmed!" Ben looked down at the startling blue eyes peeping up into his own and he glanced to the cat's owner and asked, "Hoe are things going on your end with that, anyway?"
"I did like you suggested." Jamie answered. "The money I had for the building has already went into a cleanup and Kathy is helping me look for a contractor to work on a few repairs and the remodeling. It's still going to be awhile before the place is ready but it's coming along. Slowly but surely."
"Good." Ben nodded as Anubis finally stopped clawing his pants and proceeded instead to crawl all the way into his lap and curl up into a ball for a snooze. Which meant cat hair on his dress slacks, but a small price to pay not to have his legs clawed the hell out of. He continued, "I'm looking forward to this."
Jamie's eyes were cast down before he met Ben's gaze and he smiled, "Me too."
"I was working in the lab, late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab, began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise"
"He did the mash, he did the monster mash
The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash
He did the mash, it caught on in a flash
He did the mash, he did the monster mash"
The traditional Halloween party music played across Jamie's loft as his Halloween party was in full swing. And he was indeed correct as he predicted; the place looked even better now than it had before with new additions such as Styrofoam grave markers strewn about the floor space, plastic skulls placed on table and counter tops, and candelabras with black candles lit to better illuminate the interior. Carved Jack-O-Lanterns were set up around the home, each with a lit candle inside, and a fog machine turned the floor into a scene straight out of a late night graveyard.
Even Ben was impressed by the transformation of the loft, as he stood beside the snack table where there was a virtual smorgasbord of treats was set up, including a smoking punch bowl. And despite Halloween not being his particular thing, he was no so-called party pooper. Like every other guest here, he allowed himself the fun luxury of dressing up in costume for the occasion.
You'd be amazed at how many compliments Ben received for his Superman costume. Like something straight out of the movies, they said! And he would have to agree with them. With a plate of snacks in one hand, Ben lifted a bottle of beer to his lips with the other when he was approached by what looked like a cross between a female version of Quasimodo, and a zombie's chew toy.
Ah! It was Sandra!
"Having fun?" Jamie's "Ma" asked of him, as he turned to survey the number of people in the spacious loft. Jamie's place was packed, so much so that the collective body heat had raised the temperature inside enough for the AC to have kicked on. That or Ben's outfit was so damn hot, that's what caused the air conditioning to kick on. (At least, that was Jamie and Kathy's theory.)
"To right." Ben answered. "Always have fun when there's a party to be had." He smiled and took a drink of beer before he said further, "Just taking a bit of a breather. Had to be a good lad and mingle with the guests. Retain this charming personality I seemed to have gotten a rep for."
Sandra smiled and started to search for her own beer when Ben pulled a bottle from a plastic witch's cauldron filled with ice and popped the cap off before handing it to her.
"Cheers." Ben said before they clinked bottles and took drinks. Once done, Sandra looked around at the guests and spotted Jamie chatting it up with Chad and a few others from AKBAR. She even noted Sam Marlowe and Amy Marshall seated on the sofa, talking animatedly to two obvious gay fan boys.
Sandra offered, "I'm glad our boy threw this party. Everyone at work is going to miss him terribly."
"I think he's going to miss everyone more than he's letting on." Ben replied. "He admitted to having second thoughts but this'll be good for him."
"Good for you both." Sandra countered. "It's a wonderful thing you two are doing for these kids."
Ben could only smile at the glowing words from this woman who his friend looked up to as both confidante and mother figure.
Sandra continued, "AKBAR usually throws a serious Halloween bash every year. The costume contest alone is reason enough to come!"
"I'd like to see that." Ben found himself admitting. "Jamie always said 'the gays own Halloween.' Can't right fault him for that theory."
"Theory my ass." Sandra said, taking a drink. "It's true. Halloween is 'our' holiday." She met Ben's eyes and his sparkled with humor at this woman's sense of humor and pride in who she was. She continued, "Jamie knew he was probably going to miss it since he'd be on the road for you so this was his answer. His little way of saying good-bye to everyone."
"He'll still see them."
"Yes, but his last night working at AKBAR was his last night." Sandra pointed out. "He's moving on now with this place of yours and his."
Ben playfully sniffled and placed a hand on Sandra's shoulders before he quipped, "Isn't it lovely? Our little girl is becoming a man!"
Sandra barked an unladylike fit of laughter, and would have probably sprayed beer everywhere, had a snap not been heard and everything froze in place. Ben frowned, pulling his own beer from his lips and waved a hand in front of Sandra's eyes before he shook his head.
"Bloody hell! He finally got it right!"
"We can't help but wonder what got into you two blokes. Yes, we're referring to the Members of the Elders. Here we were, four men who hung out a few times, had beers and socialized like respectable gents, and it leaves us wondering... what the hell happened? We had ourselves a couple of epic championship matches, and we properly acknowledged that Jon and Eyesnsane took us to the absolute limits before we managed to pull it out of the fire and keep these our championship titles. Both matches were close, but in the end, the better team won. The champions walked away still the champions, and I guess we were too busy celebrating to recognize that the green eyed monsters were just starting the early stages of rearing their ugly noggins."
"I mean, how else can you explain it? Before our first title match, we were alright together with beers and playing cards. We thought the same before our second title match, even though we started to see and hear the things that Eyesnsane was saying in public and on social media. Sterling rep that one has, we thought, which left us thinking that Jon Dough was the proper gent of the pair while his partner was a right git. But oh how wrong we were when Jon showed his one mask had two faces, and he was exposing himself for what he was."
"Personally, we'd still like for Jon and Eyesnsane to justify their words and accusations. So far all we hear is their sad little imitations of that idiot Trump with accusations and claims with absolutely no evidence to support their bullshit. All we've been hearing is the lot of them bitching and moaning about how they were robbed and the only reasons why we retained BOTH times was because we were in Mark and Christian's inner circle and they were wrapped around our little fingers. Funny thing is, if anyone -- and we mean anyone -- were to go back and watch either of those championship matches, they'd see the exact same thing happen the exact same time -- BOTH times! Clean pins! One! Two! Three! The second time? We even made Eyesnsane tap out right in front of everyone."
"So again we have to ask you to come out here and explain how a clean pin and a blatant submission equals you being cheated? We'd also like for you to justify saying that even though we won, and we're the champions, somehow that also equals you to being the better team? Lads, I think you've tossed back a few too many because that shit just don't add up! You lose, yet you're better? That line of thinking almost makes us want to take it easy on you when we meet for the fourth and final time. It's obvious to anyone that you've been inhaling too much air freshener or maybe we dumped you on your collective heads a bit too hard because your train of thought got derailed above four months back that a way!"
"So open your eyes and try to put the bottles down so you might think clearly. You both are better than this way of thinking, or at least you used to be. Maybe not so much any more but you know something? It'll be a sad sight to see but we can accept the fact. One more time for you lads, one more chance. Two opportunities to make what you feel right. And with two falls out of three being the big deal this time around? You'll have no reason or right to be making excuses when you fall to the wayside yet again."
"Good luck boys. We really and truly mean it. You are truly a great team, and we can admit that. But despite what you think, if we're the winners and the champions and number two as you seem to think, then the gentlemen part of us can only ponder just how sad that makes you both."</color>
