It was two in the morning before they managed to break away from the party and return to the hotel. They both hurriedly undressed and crawled into bed; a kiss was all they managed. Alan was asleep in seconds; Brandon took only a bit longer. Just enough time to think about the evening they'd had.

He remembered the shock on Alan's face at seeing the preview. He had known Theresa would do something like this, and fortunately she had done it right. Publicity was to their best advantage, and of course using his photographs netted him some nice residual cash to boot.

He would never tire of seeing Alan's face appear in the media. The face was fine; Brandon was possessive about the rest of him. Teen sensation ... it had to happen. The hype would begin, the career launched onto the airwaves. He would try to keep home as their refuge for as long as he could, but even then he knew that would be short-lived.

The industry was just too money driven, the paparazzi were everywhere. Cameras in cell phones made everyone a potential spy on their private lives. He couldn't fence in his whole property, and human patrols were out of the question. Guards would make them feel like they lived in a prison.

Fortunately the focus would be on Alan, he could still move about without too much difficulty. They would end up in a New York condo for safety reasons and have to choose the rest of the world to play in. Alan would be followed everywhere, by fans, by the media and by kooks. Security would become a necessity. He knew they could find some discreet service that provided gay bodyguards ... they had to.

One thing was for sure, Brandon didn't plan to stop loving the boy. Alan needed that love; it was his security and the one thing that might get him through all this. There had been a few moments at the party where Brandon knew what insecurity felt like.

Just after midnight that famous gay actor had arrived, the one with that gravely voice. He was well liked because his on stage persona was very much like that in real life, a genuinely good person. Brandon had watched him from across the room and turned to say something to Alan. The boy had already spotted him, but he was really looking at the twenty-something guy beside Mr. Famous.

Brandon looked back across the room and noticed the young man was staring right at Alan, oblivious to the rest of the room. "I know him," Alan said, his eyes never wavering. "Billy ... damn, Billy something. He's been in movies too ... what is his name?"

"Billy seems fine enough for a start. You want to meet him?"

"Won't have to, they're coming over here," Alan said.

Mr. Famous came right over and shook Brandon's hand. "You're that fashion photographer Theresa talks about so much. I always make friends with photographers; they make us shabby actors look good."

Brandon smiled. "Brandon Clark, nice to meet you. This is Alan Bennett, one of Theresa's new finds."

"My, what a handsome young man. You'll go far, dearie."

All Alan did was blush under the gaze of Billy ... Billy something. "Thank you, I've just started modeling."

Billy smiled. "It all has to start somewhere ... how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"So young, you'll be a big hit," Billy said.

But Brandon could feel the change once Billy learned of Alan's age. The infatuation was gone, on his part anyway, Alan still looked awestruck.

"We have to go circulate, dears ... so nice to meet you both," Mr. Famous said.

And as the two walked away Alan looked up into Brandon's eyes. "Wow, I never met a movie star before."

Brandon smiled. "And Billy never met a cuter model before, you're even."

"He might make a nice friend ... you think?"

"He might, but only after you turn eighteen. He looked a little worried once he found out how young you were."

"You think ... oh no, I don't want to sleep with him," Alan said.

"But that's what he had on his mind, couldn't you tell?" Brandon asked.

"That's stupid, he doesn't even know me."

"Sweetie, most people are going to be attracted to your beauty. Their sex drive is geared to possessing you for your looks, not who you really are, sorry," Brandon said.

Alan's look changed, his mouth became a frown. "You don't think that way, why should they? I'm never going to sleep with anyone but you, I hope you know that."

"That's why we have love, sweetie. We trust one another ... it makes us family."

"I can't wait to go home, Brand ... I want you all to myself."

And now they would, for a while anyway. And that was all he remembered until the phone rang at eight o'clock. Five hours sleep left him feeling groggy as Brandon fumbled for the phone. "Good morning, this is your requested wake up call," the mechanical voice said.

"Yeah, I know," Brandon mumbled as he rolled out of bed to take care of some urgent business. Alan was still out when he returned. He knew how to fix that and blew softly in the boy's ear.

"OK ... I'm awake ... barely," Alan groaned.

"We can sleep on the plane, we need to be out of here in less than an hour," Brandon said. "You want breakfast?"

"Nope, I want to eat barbecue when we get home, good home cookin is what I miss," Alan said as he rolled out of bed.

They showered quickly and finished packing up, the Armani suit going carefully on top in the boy's suitcase. By eight forty-five they were down in the lobby looking for the driver. They loaded up and sped off to LaGuardia.

The flight home was uneventful; they both fell asleep until touchdown. Brandon got his truck out of hock with the parking lot attendant and they headed east from Raleigh. Even though they were tired, Brandon stopped to pick up the dogs, grab a bucket of barbecue and get his stack of mail from the post office. Then they went home.

The fallen leaves were lying in swirls around the front steps, but the woods were still ablaze with color. Alan fed the dogs while Brandon stacked the mail on the dining room table for later, then they went to bed.

It was the first time Alan would sleep in his bed, and the rush of emotion that caused soon made itself known. Too tired for making love, they kissed until the feelings subsided; there would be time for everything later. And holding on tight, they sunk into oblivion.

Brandon awakened some hours later, it was still light outside, but the sun was fading. He was hungry, famished, and he knew Alan would be as well. He walked out to the kitchen and turned on the oven to heat their food. The stack of mail beckoned, but he wasn't in the mood. Maybe some local news since he had no idea what was happening here at home.

Damn, it was six-thirty already, local news was off, but at seven came the entertainment news and Alan's story. He went in to wake the boy.

He kissed Alan's bare neck and shoulder. "Hmm," the boy murmured.

"Dinner will be ready soon, and someone famous is gonna be on television," Brandon whispered.

That did it, Alan was wide awake. "Yeah, my photo is gonna be out there all across the country." He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

"I doubt if the mail man will want your autograph so soon, he's the only one who knows we're back."

Alan uncovered himself. "I don't want to hate all this publicity, Brand. But we just got started, I mean you and me, and I don't want any of that to change."

"I could never be more deeply in love with you, and that will never change. But before I burn the barbecue you better get up, OK?"

They piled coleslaw on the barbecue and ate while watching the last few minutes of the evening news broadcast. And then after the commercials the entertainment program began. Right up front they ran down the list of what was going to be on the show and Alan wasn't mentioned.

"Theresa did say tonight, right?" Alan asked.

"Yes, be patient, they can't tell us everything that's going to be on the program," Brandon said.

Sometimes these shows took a lot of patience to watch. They spewed out a boatload of gossip before even mentioning any real news. But right after the second commercial break they opened with those now familiar words:

"In our segment on fresh new faces in the fashion industry, this word just out today from New York. The Stanford Agency has signed Alan Bennett to a multi-year advertising contract worth millions to the agency and young Mr. Bennett. This rising young model brings a fresh new face to the business, and from what we've been told you'll be seeing him just about everywhere very soon.

"From the buzz around here, Alan Bennett will become more than just a rising star in the modeling world. Look out Jonas Brothers; we think the nation's newest fashion model will soon become a teen sensation. Remember, you heard it here first ... "

"Oh God ... millions of people just saw that," Alan said, hitting the mute button. And then he looked over at Brandon. "You really made me look good in those photos."

"I'm just a camera jockey, that's all."

Alan grinned. "Don't ever say that again, that's really stupid. I owe all of this to you, Brand ... even if it makes our lives a living hell." And the boy broke up laughing.

Brandon smiled. "What a nut case. Life is going to change, but I think we'll adapt to it. I'm really going to enjoy being with you, and spending all my time photographing you."

"Lord above ... and we get paid for it ... how cool is that?"

"Very cool ... the best kind of cool."

Alan slid over and laid his head in Brandon's lap. He looked up and their eyes locked. "I'll miss all of this. Promise me ... we'll come back here whenever we can, whenever time allows."

Brandon smiled. "I promise."

They had three days before the local news media picked up on the association between Brandon and Alan. Three days of romping in the woods with the dogs, making love on the porch in the afternoon sunshine and cooking wonderful concoctions in the kitchen while naked. It ended with a phone call.

"Brandon Clark? This is Marion Wells, Channel Twelve News...do you have a moment?"

Brandon laughed. "I suppose I'd better make the time, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Clark, this is about Alan Bennett. We'd like to interview the young man, a local celebrity story."

"Ms. Wells, The Stanford Agency in New York has to approve all appearances ... have you spoken with them?"

"Yes, I spoke with Theresa Stanford just a short while ago. This is more a heads up call since you're his guardian. I'm waiting for a call back, but we'd like to do an on site interview."

"Our home is a very private place, Ms. Wells. I don't want the neighbors or the community riled up by Alan's success. I'm sure you know he'll gain quite a bit of attention once the advertising starts appearing in the magazines. I would prefer a studio interview if you don't mind," Brandon said.

"I understand, we respect your privacy. Can I call you back to make arrangements when Stanford approves?"

"Yes, please."

"Thank you, Mr. Clark. Good-bye."

Alan had listened and shook his head. "It's over isn't it?"

"Maybe, a studio appearance will keep our secret a while longer."

Ten minutes later Theresa was on the phone and gave her approval. "He's going to be a local celebrity first and last, that's always the case. Just so you know, security should be arriving later this afternoon. Jack Abrams is a very nice man, well qualified for this kind of duty. I suggested he bring his own living arrangements so you can maintain some privacy."

"Living arrangements, what does that mean?" Brandon asked.

"He and his partner are bringing a camper to the site ... partner as in gay couple; I thought you might like that little touch. But don't let that fool you, he comes highly recommended, both of them are very experienced at this kind of thing."

"Thank you, Theresa ... I mean that," Brandon said.

"Sweetie, we are not going to let that boy out of our sight. Not only is he quite valuable, but I love the little man too. Now you handle that interview, Jack will drive you there and back. Allow them to escort Alan wherever he needs to go, this is blowing up already.

"Middleton pulled some strings and the ad will appear in six major magazines within two weeks. I have ten requests for interviews in the next few weeks; one of them is from Letterman. I'll let you know when you guys need to come back here, but I already have my eye on a condo for you so don't worry."

"You're the best, Theresa ... you just let me know," Brandon said.

"Bye for now, dear ... my love to Alan." And Theresa hung up.

OK, that was a lot to absorb all at once. Jack Abrams and partner ... Letterman.

"Alan ... Theresa sends her love."

"Sweet, what else did she say?" Alan asked.

"We have a security guy coming later ... a gay guy and his partner I suppose. But we do the interview here and then ... Letterman wants you."

"Oh My God ... really?"

"Yeah, and Middleton has arranged for you to appear in December's magazine spread, that comes out in two weeks. Theresa is already trying to get us a condo in New York," Brandon said.

"Oh ... it was bound to happen, but so soon?"

Brandon nodded and Alan jumped off the couch. "Then we better get to it before time runs out." With that the boy began to strip on his way to the bedroom.

Their lovemaking had lost none of that urgency Brandon first remembered; now it was random and probably more frequent. With Alan willing to pitch as well as catch, Brandon could meet the boy's needs without tiring. Like he could ever say no, it just wasn't in the plan.

And so Alan mounted him this afternoon, filling Brandon with a desire to be the perfect receptacle for Alan's love. And no matter how many times he had experienced this, Brandon still thought it felt like a baseball bat up his rear. The boy was aware of his size, and now he knew how to use it so well.

They were into their third minute of activity when the dogs started to bark outside. Alan laughed and went for it.

"Just another minute ... oh Lord ... yeah ... I feel it now," Alan groaned.

Brandon squeezed his muscles around the boy's cock and felt Alan shudder, yeah, that always worked. The dogs continued to bark but Alan ignored them as he went for the finish line.

"Ahh ... sweet," Alan moaned as he gushed in Brandon's guts. He lay down, still inside as the dogs began a fierce barking. "OK ... OK, I get it ... fuck." Alan backed out slowly and it was Brandon's turn to groan.

"I'll put some pants on and go see what's up," Alan said. He went for his clothes while Brandon headed for the bathroom.

Ever since they had come home condoms had been a thing of the past. Brandon sat on the toilet and emptied himself, and then Alan was back.

"There's this huge camper out in the drive ... the security guys?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, we better go meet them."

Jack and Barry didn't seem like security guards at first, and that was probably a good thing. But the calm demeanor and casual appearance belied the muscle and skill beneath their lumberjack clothing.

"Jack? Theresa told me to be on the look out for you," Brandon said, striding across the gravel drive. "Brandon Clark, and this is Alan," He said by way of introduction

"Good dogs, you heard them warn of our arrival?" Jack said.

"Yeah, lots of bark, not much bite ... that's still pretty useful," Brandon said.

"Dogs that go after people usually get hurt, barking is what we need," Jack said. "Any thoughts on where we should put this rig?"

"There's room beside the garage, water and power hookups there as well," Brandon said.

Jack looked at Barry. "You think you can park it without killing anything?"

Barry stuck out his tongue. "Yup, she handles like a baby." The man climbed back inside the camper and took the wheel.

Jack grinned. "He drove a tank in Iraq for a while, guess that gave him some experience. We just rented the thing yesterday, all the comforts of home."

They stood out of the way while Barry maneuvered the beast next to the garage and shut down. Barry got out and laughed.

"Piece of cake, at least no one was shooting at me."

"Would you guys like to come inside and have some tea?" Brandon offered.

Alan seemed to like the guys from the outset, and that was probably a good thing Brandon knew. Having these guys around could eventually feel intrusive, but if they all got along things would be different.

They sat on the porch enjoying the warm afternoon sunshine; soon it would be too cold to sit outside. Jack had done a once over of the house so he could memorize the layout, then he relaxed. Security was his first concern and he was glad to see Brandon had an alarm system on windows and doors.

"I want you to go about your normal activities," Jack said. "I'll tag along when you leave the property and Barry will remain here. I see you have a lock on the gate, do you ever use it?"

"Sometimes, usually when we're away," Brandon said.

"I'll start locking it every night. I have a few devices to place around the house and one for the driveway. Nothing obtrusive, just motion detectors to warn me if anyone walks up. Your dogs will do the rest." He smiled at this point. "I want you to feel secure; Barry and I are capable of handling most anything. Special Forces training taught us a lot, but neither of us prefers arms over brute force. We both hold a third degree black belt, unarmed combat is our specialty."

"Wow," Alan said.

Jack had been very business like up until that moment, but now he turned his attentions to Alan. Brandon felt the man's warmth in the smile he gave the boy.

"Theresa says you're going places, and now that I've met you I understand just what she means. May I call you Alan?"

The boy nodded and Jack resumed his conversation. "Barry and I have guarded several film stars and business tycoons the past four years. But I have to admit, none of them has looked quite so elegant as you, young man. I know this is all new to you and I'll be close to you at all times, but never in your way.

"My job is to keep you safe and I'm sure you understand that becoming famous is quite a challenge. People will want to know you, and even more will assume they do just because they know your face. At your age that will mean young ladies of all ages simply because they will feel that attraction."

"I'm gay," Alan said.

"Good, so are we, and that's why we were chosen," Jack said. "But I assume Theresa doesn't want the world to know that just yet, it's none of their business anyway. But they will try to get into your personal life so you'll have to be careful."

"Brandon is my lover," Alan said.

Jack smiled. "He would be a fool if he wasn't, but that's your private business. My job is to keep you safe; you'll hear me say that a lot. It means I have to look at the people who want to talk to you, touch you, and evaluate if they're a threat. Keeping you safe means you have to listen to me if I tell you something, that goes for the both of you.

"For instance, if we drive up to an entrance and there are people waiting, I'll get out of the car first. If I tell you to stay in the car you have to listen to me. You will not get out until I open the door for you. That will mean I've looked the crowd over and feel it's a secure situation."

Jack looked at the boy, but now the smile was gone. "Alan, I don't want to frighten you, but every famous person has someone who doesn't like them. Those are the people I'm looking for. If you ever see anything out of the ordinary I want to know. It might be a look that made you feel uncomfortable, a gesture...or even a weapon you spot."

Alan made a frown and looked over at Brandon. "What about Monica?"

"You mean Monica Blumenthal?" Jack asked.

"Oh ... you know about her?" Alan asked.

Jack smiled. "Yes, I know all about her and her history with Brandon. But she's a little busy right now, seems that Homeland Security is after her for something."

Brandon laughed. "Oh My God, what did Theresa do now?"

Jack kept a perfectly straight face. "She has Taliban connections it seems."

"Taliban ... her? She's Jewish for Christ's sake ... incredible," Brandon said.

Jack held up a hand. "I don't know any details ... and neither will you. So you have an interview scheduled, something local. Any enemies I should know about?"

Alan shook his head. "I don't think so. The only person I know here besides Brandon is my father."

"Restraining order, I know about that. You see him you let me know right away, OK?"

"Yes sir," Alan said.

"Call me Jack, all my friends do. Barry and I have a couple of hours work to do before dark, and then we can talk again if you want."

With that they both got up and left the house. Brandon looked over at Alan. "Special Forces, black belts ... I guess we can feel safe now."

"I would hope so," Alan said. "I feel sorry for anyone that messes with them."

"Let's hope we never find out what they can do," Brandon said.

The interview with Channel Twelve was shot on Wednesday morning in their studio. The setup was fairly simple, a few key lights and several comfortable chairs set up in an empty studio space. Brandon brought his camera and took some shots before the interview, and then he sat back to watch.

After the way Alan had handled Middleton, Brandon had great confidence in the boy. It had been agreed that the focus of the short interview would be about his experiences in New York and the thoughts Alan had about modeling.

Marion Wells was a petite brunette, in sharp contrast to Alan's blonde tresses. They chatted for a while and both seemed to get along right away. She explained that the interview would be recorded and if there were any mistakes then they could go back and try that question again.

Alan took a deep breath, and they began.

"I'm here this morning with Alan Bennett, a young man from Stokes County who just signed a multi-million dollar modeling contract with The Stanford Agency in New York. Good Morning, Alan.

"Good Morning, thanks for having me here." Alan's smile lit up the room.

"So, local boy makes good ... real good, how did this come about?"

"I was introduced to Theresa Stanford by one of her best photographers, Brandon Clark. We did a photo shoot, and based upon that I received an agency contract. Then Ms. Stanford introduced me to an interested client and we shot some photos with their product. I guess they're due out in several magazines sometime later this month. It all happened pretty fast, I'm not sure of all the details."

"I bet your head is still spinning, what a great opportunity for you."

"Yes ma'am, this is all so new and exciting. The people I work for have been so good to me, and I get to be on the David Letterman show later this month as well."

"We all saw that short clip about you on television the other night, how did it feel to see yourself like that?"

"Great, but I'm not sure the comment about being a teen idol will ever come true. The photos may look glamorous but modeling is hard work and requires a lot of focus. They tell me I'll get to travel to exotic places and I'm looking forward to that part."

"Does that mean you'll have to leave North Carolina?"

Alan's smile dimmed a bit at the question. "I may have to split my time between New York and home, but I'll always be a North Carolina boy ... nothing can change that."

"We'll all be very proud of your success, Alan. I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you, I hope you'll have me back again."

"We'll do that. We've been talking to Alan Bennett, one of the rising stars of the New York advertising scene. But a young man who will always remember his roots right here in the Tar Heel State. For Channel Twelve News, this is Marion Wells."

"And out," the director said. "Excellent, you got it in one take."

Marion turned to Alan. "You did that like a pro, thank you."

Alan smiled. "I just figured we were both supposed to look good."

Marion laughed. "Yes, I think you'll go far. It always takes more than good looks to stay in front of the camera; I predict you'll be doing this for a long time."

Brandon got some shots of them together, something he could toss in a scrapbook and something Marion would hang on her office wall. When Theresa saw this she would be amazed, and not just because Alan had managed to drop her name into the conversation twice. No one ever did this well their first time in front of a camera; the boy was more than ready for Letterman.

He had wondered what Alan would be like doing a speaking role in commercials. Some models never made it beyond still photography, they just couldn't talk. But the boy had a well modulated voice and he spoke with conviction, not a bit of hesitation. Combine that with his beauty and that smile, yes, Brandon had to agree with Marion, Alan would go far.

The way Alan had handled himself with Middleton, and now Marion Wells, was mature and thoughtful. As if he could sense the tone of the moment despite his obvious excitement. The boy might have been nervous but it never showed. He could take his cues from others; maybe he would make a good actor?

Brandon packed up his gear after they said their good-byes and they met Jack in the studio lobby for the ride home. The entertainment program was one venue, but tonight Alan would become a local celebrity. Brandon was glad Jack was on the job, he might be needed, especially after Alan had mentioned his name.

The boy was proud of their association, no reason he wouldn't say Brandon had introduced him to the business. Of course his name was in the phone book, and it wasn't even unlisted. He would have to screen all their calls for the next week.

A week was all he figured they would have before Theresa asked them to come back north. But by the time they were summoned by Theresa it was almost a relief to go. Not that the local people were reacting poorly to the news of a celebrity in their midst, far from it, but they were just demanding too much attention.

The calls started slowly and then became an avalanche.

"Hello ... is Alan there?" A young voice would ask.

"May I ask who's calling?" Brandon always replied.

"Um ... I just saw his picture on television, he doesn't know me. My name is Cindy Ludington; can he come to the phone?"

"Cindy, he's not home at the moment. But thanks for calling," Brandon would say before he hung up. She called five times that day but Brandon knew her number and didn't even answer the phone. The voice mailbox was filled within twenty-four hours. With calls coming in at a rate of five per hour it was amazing that Theresa even got through.

"Brand ... how are you?" The familiar voice asked.

"Swamped with calls. Every little girl in town must have the number by now. It's like a game to see if one of them can actually get to talk with Alan. Maybe we should have a contest," Brandon laughed, but it wasn't funny anymore.

"Channel Twelve sent me the interview, he did amazingly well," Theresa said.

"Yes he did, and in one take."

"I would like you both here for a meeting on Tuesday, several meetings in fact. I'll have your tickets waiting for you at the airline counter; can you come up on Monday?"

"We'll be there," Brandon said.

"I want you to see the condo first, it's a wonderful place and I got it for a bargain price."

"Will Jack be following us there?" Brandon asked.

"Yes, sweetie. I think he'll be needed; the Middleton-Meyers ad goes in circulation on Wednesday. I have two clothing gigs lined up ... and Letterman is scheduled for Thursday night."

"Oh goodie, a full schedule," Brandon laughed. "I suppose we'd better close up the house for a while."

"Barry will be there to protect your interests ... this all might take a while, you know."

"You're the best in the business, Theresa. I have no doubt we'll be kept very busy," Brandon said.

"Looking forward to seeing you both, give my love to Alan," Theresa said before she hung up.

And so it begins, Brandon thought.

On to Chapter Nine

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