‘THE BLAINE ANDERSON’

It was Monday night. Blaine and the guys were watching the latest episode of his show Loser Like Me. It had become a tradition over the years. Whenever LLM was on, they guys would get stoned and make fun of the dialogue and the storylines. Blaine wasn’t stupid. LLM had made him quite a bit of money – enough to let him buy the house in Beverly Hills they’d rented for years, at the end of season four – so outside of his inner circle, he never had anything but praise for the TV show. You didn’t bite the hand that feeds you, even if you thought the storylines were getting more and more ridiculous.

The house, the six of them were living in, had cost him five million dollars. Cooper had helped out with five hundred thousand on the condition that he would be allowed to move in as well. ‘Do you know how much more pussy I’d get if chicks see your house and I can prove you’re actually my baby brother,’ he’d argued. Blaine’s finance guy had told him he didn’t have the cash to buy the house and the owners were looking to sell. So Blaine had made the deal with his brother.

Few people knew his brother made pornos and those who did, didn’t talk about it because it would mean admitting they’d watched Cooper’s movies. No, most people knew Cooper Anderson as Blaine’s older brother and failed actor. From time to time Cooper would film a new Free Credit Rating Today dot com commercial to keep up appearances, but most people assumed he was just living off his younger brother’s money. Cooper had filmed his first credit commercial years ago, when he was still living in Ohio and after getting a lot of praise for it, had dropped out of college, packed his bags, said goodbye to his kid brother and had moved out to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, he never really managed to capitalize on his good looks. His agent got him auditions for two pilots, My So-Called Life and Party of Five in addition to auditions for  Beverly Hills, 90210 and Melrose Place, but Cooper never landed a role. Until he was approached by a producer at a party where he was working as a waiter. The man asked whether Cooper had ever considered a career in the adult movie industry. Cooper had replied that he hadn’t but was willing to give it a try. By the time Blaine had graduated high school and moved out to California as well, Cooper had won twice at the AVN Awards - the colloquially called ‘Oscars of Porn’. Blaine had of course been shocked when Cooper had come clean, but had then decided that as long as his brother liked his ‘job’, he was okay with it. When Blaine had landed a role on a teen drama two years later, Cooper had decided to play the failed actor in public, so his own career wouldn’t affect his brother’s. It hadn’t been hard. Outside of porn, if people knew him at all, he was only known as the Free Credit Rating Today dot com guy.

Cooper took a drag from the joint Nick handed him and turned to his kid brother. “You should have told me your character was finally getting laid. I could have given you some tips. “ Blaine hit him with a pillow. “Hey!” Cooper protested and picked up the joint Blaine had knocked out of his mouth.

“Sorry Coop,” Jeff laughed. “But your kind of expertise would only maybe help on cable.”

Blaine made a face. “I’m glad Loser wasn’t on cable. I already had to make out with Rebecca nearly every episode for five years. I’m just glad her character was saving herself for marriage, so I only had this one sex scene with her.” He drank from his Desperados to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.

“I’d totally do her,” David interjected.

“And I’d introduce you properly if I weren’t afraid that you would hit it off,” Blaine shot back before opening the mini fridge next to the couch and taking out another beer.

David was in his last year of law school and he already had plenty of offers from firms in L.A. Blaine had told him he’d understand if he wanted to move out and get a normal job, but David had shook his head. ‘As long as the other knuckleheads don’t move out you won’t get rid of me either. And if I ever open my own entertainment law firm, it won’t hurt to have you as my client,’ he’d replied.

“Grab me another one too,” Nick said.

“Shouldn’t you be the one bringing me drinks?” Blaine teased and threw a bottle at Nick.

“We’re off duty,” Jeff protested, but when he saw the smile on Blaine’s face he cracked up. “You fucker. I’m too stoned for that kind of talk.”

Jeff, Nick, David, Wes and Blaine had gone to Dalton together - a private high school in Westerville, Ohio. After their graduation, Wes and David had attended Stanford. Wes for business and David for pre law. Blaine, Nick and Jeff had followed them out West two year later, but neither of them went to college. Blaine, because he wanted to focus on his music and because he hadn’t been offered financial aid for any of the schools he’d applied to. Nick and Jeff to piss off their super conservative families. Nick found a job as a valet, while Jeff taught himself how to surf before offering classes to wealthy tourists. While David and Wes lived in the dorms at Stanford, Nick, Jeff and Blaine slept on Cooper’s couch and floor before renting a run down apartment in the Valley. Two years later, when Blaine landed the role of Parker Sinclair on Loser Like Me, they moved to Beverly Hills and Blaine hired Nick and Jeff as his drivers and personal assistants because he didn’t want any strangers in his home. Wes and David joined them as well; Wes as Blaine’s manager and David as his legal guide while he interned at a law firm and applied to law school.

Wes stepped into the smoked filled living room and threw his phone on the couch.

“So?” Blaine asked and passed him a beer.

“Gold Standard. They wanna send over Ari Gold tomorrow to pitch their agency,” Wes said.

Blaine frowned. “That guy used to work for Terrance, right? You think his agency is any different?”

Wes shrugged. “They are the biggest agency in town and their client list is impressive. If they want you, they must think you really have potential. Other than that, I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to listen to what he has to say.”

Blaine nodded. “So how many potentials am I meeting tomorrow?”

“Five,” Wes replied. “More asked for a meeting, but I narrowed it down to the top five.

Blaine groaned. But it had to be done. He turned to Wes.

“And you still support my decision to tell all of them and to hire the one who doesn’t try to talk me out of coming out?”

Wes nodded. “You weren’t happy the last few years and if coming out will make you happier then of course I support you. I was your friend long before I was your manager.”

“And as my manager?”

“As your manager, I prefer a happy client who doesn’t act out just to piss off his agent,” Wes said diplomatically. Blaine knew his friend was also worried about Blaine’s career, so he was grateful to still have his support.

“So we’ll listen to what the suits - no offense,” Cooper pointed at Wes and David, “have to say and then you pick the one you feel the most comfortable with. Preferably an agent who would sign me as well.” All eyes went to Cooper who shrugged. “What? I’m in my mid thirties. I’m going to be hot enough for porn for another twenty years, but then I’d love to take on some more serious roles. Can’t hurt to find out if my chances are better now than when I moved out here.”

“Cooper Anderson thinking about the future. Didn’t think I’d live to see that day,” Blaine ribbed his older brother who retaliated by hitting Blaine in the face with a pillow.

==============

The next morning, Blaine dragged himself out of bed shortly after nine. They were expecting the first prospective new agent at ten and Blaine thought it would be best if he didn’t look like he’d smoked weed and drank alcohol for most of the previous night. Thanks to Terrance and his publicist, he already had a rep as womanizer and party boy. His new agent should see another side of him; the hard worker who wanted to get back to work as soon as possible. Blaine got into his shower and turned it to the coldest possible setting for thirty seconds to wake himself up properly. His two shower heads did their jobs expertly. After, he washed his hair. It was a relief to be done with LLM, because it meant no more hair gel. The producers had taken one look at his long and curly hair and had told him the role was his if he was willing to get his hair cut short because they envisioned a more clean cut look for Parker Sinclair. Clean cut had meant straightening his hair and cementing it to his head with what had felt like a ton of hair gel. Whoever his new agent was going to be, he or she better found him a role where he could wear his hair au naturel, Blaine mused as he ran a towel over his head. He wrapped another towel around his waist and stepped out into his bedroom. While he’d been in the shower, the housekeeper had been in. His bed was made and the heavy burgundy curtains were pulled aside. Even after five years of living in the house, the view from his balcony still took his breath away. They were high up in Beverly Hills and Blaine could see everything from Downtown L.A to the east and the pacific ocean to the west.

When Blaine had been fourteen years old, his father had left his mother and while he had agreed to keep paying for Dalton, he’d refused to give Pam, Blaine’s mother, any support. Blaine had told his mom that he’d be okay with going back to public school so his mom could take the Dalton money. But Pam had refused. After an incident in junior high, Blaine’s safety was more important to her than living in a big house. He was surprised that the press had never reported the incident after he became famous. Maybe Terrance had paid off the assholes he’d gone to school with. While at Dalton, he’d shared a small two bedroom apartment with his mom - Cooper had already moved out to L.A - and while there was always food on the table, he never could afford to join his classmates on expensive school trips. His friends, however, came from rich families and their form of rebellion was to spend their parents’ money on their less fortunate classmates who’d often come to Dalton on scholarships. When Nick had bought him a new keyboard for his sixteenth birthday, he’d grudgingly accepted it because his mom couldn’t afford a new one and his old one had died, but when Jeff tried to top Nick’s gift with a car, Blaine had drawn a line. He hadn’t minded taking the school bus on days his mom couldn’t drop him off at Dalton. Now he owned three cars. A Jeep for when they went snowboarding at Lake Tahoe, a silver, Mercedes E class cabriolet for trips to the beach and a black BMW, with tinted windows for every day use. On a normal day, there were usually at least eight cars in his driveway. After his contract had been renegotiated at the end of season three and he had suddenly made a hundred thousand dollars per episode, he’d bought both Nick and Jeff their own sports cars. Their parents had cut them off financially when they hadn’t gone to the colleges of their parents’ choice and both had to wait till they were thirty to access their trust funds.

From his wardrobe, he selected a graphic tee and dark blue straight leg Diesel jeans. In his private life, comfort always came first. He wasn’t like Wes and David who looked like fishes out of water if they didn’t wear a suit. Blaine had worn a school uniform for four years at Dalton and for nearly five years on LLM. At home, he preferred t-shirts, shorts and flip flops and for meetings t-shirts, jeans and colorful Converse All Stars. For today’s meeting, he selected the teal colored high tops Nick had found for him in the Valley. In the hallway, he ran into their housekeeper Juanita.

“Good morning,” he greeted her with a smile.

Juanita wagged her pointer finger at him. “The living room was a mess again,” she said crossly.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine replied, looking guilty. Even though they were paying Juanita a handsome sum to keep the house in order, she acted more like a mother with children who constantly got into trouble. It had happened more than once that their parties had lasted until the next morning and had only ended when Juanita had sent them to bed. They hadn’t dared to disobey her.

The living room was, of course, spotless. Ashtrays had been emptied, empty beer bottles thrown out and the windows opened to air out the room. Blaine found his friends in the kitchen. Cooper was nursing a cup of black coffee, his eyes fixed on Jeff’s back, who was preparing scrambled eggs at the stove. David and Wes were reading the news on their Blackberries, while Nick had his head on the kitchen counter and was moaning about dying.

“Oh shut up!” Cooper groaned. “The tequila shots were your idea.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Nick replied miserably. His face was extremely pale and he wobbled dangerously on his bar stool.

“You should go back to bed,” Blaine suggested. “I don’t need you for the first meeting.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I’ll save you some,” Jeff said, as he put a plate of steaming hot eggs in front of Blaine.

Slowly, after some coffee and Jeff’s famous eggs, they started to feel human again. And just in time. Their first hopeful was a man in his late twenties called Adam Davies. He’d previously worked for Terrance, but Blaine decided not to hold it against him. They sat down in the living room and Adam took out his laptop.

“So let me tell you why Hammers and Rubey’s is the agency for you,” he started. Blaine stopped him immediately.

“Before you do, I’m going to tell you something and then I want you to tell me how you’d handle it as my agent.”

“Okay.” Adam leaned back looking intrigued.

“I’m gay,” Blaine told him, “and I want to come out.”

Surprised flickered over Adam’s face. The disgust he felt for guys like Anderson, he managed to hide successfully. After all, if he could land the guy, his boss had to make him partner.

“As your agent, my advice would be don’t. At least not any time soon. Young girls love you thanks to Loser Like Me and if they find out you really aren’t available, they’re going to move on to the next good looking young actor. You can’t afford to lose the demographic that buys your merchandise and spent hundreds of dollars on ticket for the LLM in Concert Tours. Do a few movies first, build up a more adult fanbase and then reevaluate in a year or two. There’s no rush, right? Or are you seeing someone who’s pressuring you to come out?”

“No, no one’s pressuring me. Anyway, thanks for coming, Adam,” Blaine replied.

“But I haven’t shown you the presentation yet,” Adam sputtered indignantly.

“Let met guess,” Wes cut in. “Adidas, Mercedes, Blaine Anderson. With our help, your name will be just as recognizable as those brands.”

“Microsoft and McDonalds,” Adam huffed and shoved his laptop back into his bag. He didn’t shake anyone’s hand before he left.

The next man was another young guy. His name was Josh Weinstein, no relations, and he told Blaine to wait a couple more years, so he could amass even more young female fans. “Chicks love the gays”, he said on his way out.

After a brief lunch break, a new agent followed, but what she said was more of the same. Then it was finally time for their last meeting. The intercom buzzed at five on the dot. A high and nervous sounding voice spoke, when Blaine, who was closest, pressed the button.

“Um, hi, I’m Ari Gold’s assistant. He asked me to meet him here.”

“He isn’t here yet, but drive on up and come in. The door’s open.” Blaine pressed the button that opened the gate at the end of his driveway. Then he jumped back on the couch. Having to listen to all those douchebags was exhausting.

A few moments later, there was a knock on the front door. “In here,” Blaine called out, his eyes closed. He only opened them, when the visitor stopped moving. His jaw hit the ground. The guy in front of him was gorgeous. Sun kissed chestnut hair that was expertly coiffed, he was wearing a slim fitting light grey suit with a blue button down that brought out the color of his equally blue eyes. Compared to his broad shoulders, his waist seemed tiny and though Blaine was sprawled on the couch, he was pretty certain, the hottie was taller than him. He was exactly Blaine’s type.

“Hi,” he said. Quickly, he removed his feet from the couch and patted the spot next to him. “Sit down. I’m Blaine.”

The young man approached, looking curiously at Blaine’s entourage. “I should probably check on my boss. He should have arrived before me,” he said.

Blaine hit him with his best show smile. “No rush,” he told him. “He’ll get here when he gets here. In the meantime, the two of us can talk. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Kurt. Kurt Hummel.”