Heights 2

“Get in,” Dylan told me. He took his sunglasses out of the collar of his shirt and put them on. 

I opened the door to Dylan’s sleek, silver car and sat on the cool, leather seats. His car smelled like him, strong and sexy. I had never been inside such an expensive car before—I mean, honestly, I haven’t been in that many cars period. I don’t have a car myself, Bryan is the only one who does, and his little green, four-door Civic, compared nothing to this car. I was still finding it hard to believe everything that had happened to me in the last hour: I had just gone from being a simple kid working at a Starbucks in Orangewood, to being accepted by one of the most important modeling agencies in the world. Not only that, but I was riding alongside one of the most beautiful dudes I’d ever seen in all my life. It felt like one big dream that I never wanted to wake up from. 

Dylan started the car and we were off down Jackson Avenue, one of the most popular and busy streets the city. I put on my seatbelt and noticed that Dylan hadn’t put his on yet.

“Are you going to buckle your seatbelt?” I asked.

“I never wear those,” he told me.

I was about to say something like, “It’s not safe,” but decided it wasn’t my place to say anything to him in his own car. Instead, I looked at all the expensive shops as we passed, at all the rich-looking people on the street, with their expensive-looking suits and dresses, looking out the window up at the high skyscrapers reaching up so far that they almost seemed to be touching the clouds. This was nothing like Orangewood, where everybody and everything was plain and boring, where there was really nothing to look forward to, nothing really to achieve. The only thing that still tied me to that place was Bryan. For some reason he saw something special in that fucked up town that I didn’t see. If it was up to him, I don’t think he would ever leave. 

“So did he touch you?” Dylan asked, breaking through my thoughts.

I turned to him. “What?”

“Wolf. Did he make you take all your clothes off and then touch you?”

I remembered the feel of Daniel Wolf’s hands all over my chest, my stomach, my ass…I had to force myself not to think about it too much, otherwise my dick would get hard again, and I didn’t want that to happen in front of Dylan. “Just to my underwear,” I said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t hear me, but pretty sure that he did.

“You liked it?” I guess it was supposed to be a question, but it didn’t sound like one to me.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable and I think Dylan could see that, so when I didn’t answer, he didn’t pester me with it. I didn’t want to admit that I liked it. If I admitted that I liked it, then it would be cheating on my boyfriend. What happened in Wolf’s office was a one-time thing that wouldn’t happen again. I thought about Bryan, at home in our apartment, waiting for me to come home to tell him what happened, anticipating good news. But instead, I was in a stranger’s fancy car, not knowing where I was going, but just glad to be going somewhere.

“You excited?” Dylan asked. I hadn’t noticed that he had taken off his sunglasses, and was staring directly at me with those hypnotic chocolate eyes of his.

“Yeah, I am,” I replied. “Fuckin nervous too. I’ve never done any of this before.”

“Don’t worry `bout that. Once you get in front of the camera, you’ll know what to do. I believe that.”

I smiled and Dylan smiled too, and he placed his hand on my knee and kept it there. My legs started to tingle, and that tingle moved upwards to my balls. I shifted my knee a little, and I think that Dylan got the hint that I was a bit uncomfortable and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. I hoped that I hadn’t offended him. I looked over at him, and he didn’t seem upset at all, he was still smiling.

“So where you from?” Dylan asked. “You don’t live here in the city, do you?”

“No. I stay over in Orangewood.”

Dylan chuckled when I said that. “Oh.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothin’,” Dylan said. “I’ve been there a few times.” He still had this wide grin on his face like there was something he wasn’t telling me. I almost felt embarrassed that I had told him. “It’s an okay place,” he continued. “Kinda reminds me of being back home.”

“Back home where?” I asked. I suddenly had this feeling that I was asking too many fucking questions and should just shut-up. But Dylan didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Down back in Alabama,” he told me. So that explained that bit of an accent he had. I could tell that he was trying to have a more Californian accent, but every once in a while his voice would go back to sounding a bit country. I didn’t mind either way, I just liked the way he sounded in general. “Left when I was sixteen years old and haven’t been back since. And if I’m lucky, won’t ever have to go back there again.”

I wanted to ask why, but then I figured that if he wanted to tell me, then he would tell me. 

We were quiet for a little while, but when Dylan got on the freeway, I asked him, “Where we going?” 

“Over to where I stay.”

My heart skipped a beat. I should’ve called Bryan. I should’ve probably already been home by now. “Where is that?”

“You ask a whole lotta questions,” Dylan said. 
I felt embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” he said. “I live over in Crimson Heights.”

Crimson Heights was one of the most expensive and fancy parts of the whole city. A few celebrities were said to even live there. You had to have a whole lotta money to live over there. Sometimes, on weekends, when Bryan and I had nothing to do, we would go around cruising in his car, and we would go to Crimson Heights, and look at all the nice houses and apartment buildings and stores, and I would always used to wish that I could live in a place like that, where everything was neat and all the people were successful. And every time Bryan and I would return from Crimson Heights and come back to Orangewood, I was always a bit sad and even a bit mad that I had to come back to such a place that was so fucking worthless and annoying. I made up my mind that I would leave that fucking place as soon as I got the chance…and now with what happened today, maybe I would be able to get that chance. 

I was super-ass nervous when we approached the big classy-looking apartment building where Dylan stayed. The building looked like it had to be over thirty floors high, not including the penthouse at the very top, and it stretched for at least more than a block. It seemed like the place was big enough to fit all five million people in the whole city in this one building. Dylan pulls up to a garage door and opens it with a buzzer he keeps on his dashboard. As the door opens, my heart is beating so fast and hard that I think it’s going to explode. I check my watch and it’s almost six o’ clock. Bryan must’ve been really worried about where I was. I was surprised he hadn’t called me back yet.

Dylan parked and immediately opened the door and got out. As he was getting out, the tail of his tight red shirt came up a little bit, and I saw the very top part of his thin asscrack. He wasn’t wearing underwear. As I got out of the car and followed behind him, that was all I could keep thinking: Dylan isn’t wearing underwear.

“We’re gonna take the stairs `cause the elevator isn’t working,” he told me. 

I followed behind him up the staircase, my eyes glued to his tight, round ass the whole time. With every step he climbed, his ass shifted left and right within his tight blue jeans. My dick hardened in seconds. I had to keep my hands in my pockets the whole time in order for me to not reach out and grab his ass the way Daniel Wolf had grabbed mine. But at the same time I knew that Dylan knew that I was looking at his ass, not only looking at it, but that I was mesmerized by it. To confirm this, he even turned around and caught me looking at it, and he gave me his knowing, enticing grin and kept walking. My eyes were on his butt for so long that I wasn’t even aware that we had climbed up twenty-six flights of stairs. My calves were sore as fuck after we finished climbing, but that soreness was in no comparison to the soreness my cock felt.

Dylan opened a door and led me inside a long hallway, almost as long as the hallway leading to Wolf’s office. Every door we passed I heard loud music and male laughter coming from inside. Dylan stopped and knocked on one of the doors. It took some time for the person to come to the door, but when they finally did a tall, gorgeous guy with short black hair and intense, caramel-colored eyes came to the door, only dressed in a pair of loose hanging board-shorts. I was unable to keep myself from staring at his hard, chiseled pecs, his perfect six-pack stomach, and the little bit of pubic hair I was able to see. 

“Where’ve you been?” the guy asked. He also seemed to have an accent, not as Southern as Dylan’s, but more Midwestern. “Thought you was gonna be back long time ago.” He looked over at me, quickly looking me up and down. “Who’s this one?”

“Gabe, this is Josh,” Dylan. “He just got signed today.”

Gabe arched one of his thick eyebrows and gave me the look over again. I wondered what he was thinking about me. He reached out his large hand and we shook hands. His handshake was as firm and strong as his hard body. “Nice to meet you said,” he said, but I got this overwhelming feeling that he really didn’t mean that all. He took his hand away and went back inside his apartment. 

“Come on,” Dylan said, “you can meet the others.”

Was this whole place filled with models? I followed Dylan inside and closed the door. The apartment smelled like pizza, beer, and masculinity. We walked into a living room which was nearly twice the size of the living room in my own apartment, where three other guys besides Gabe were sitting around on the couch, similarly dressed in shorts and tank-tops that displayed their huge, bulging muscles. They all looked like the guys I would see in Abercrombie and Fitch ads, all with those Greek-god-shaped bodies and those perfect faces. As soon as I saw them that self-consciousness that I felt earlier when I was being ‘interviewed’ with Wolf started to come back. Sure, I had a muscular body, yeah, I was decent looking, but being around these dudes, for some reason I felt really plain in comparison. Dylan didn’t help that self-consciousness go anywhere, by declaring, “Yo, everybody. This is Josh. He’s new.”

They all turned away from the TV screen and looked at me. They didn’t have the most welcoming looks on their gorgeous faces. Like Gabe had done, they gave me a quick look over and returned their attention back to the TV. One of them asked me, the dude sitting on the middle of couch with a shaved head and sharp green eyes asked me, “Where you from?” He asked me while still watching TV.

“Orangewood.”

As if I had just said the world’s funniest joke they all started laughing. I was reminded of being back in high school, where the jocks used to always laugh and sneer at me when I passed by the basketball courts—unless Bryan was with me. 

“Shane, what the fuck are you laughing at?” Dylan said to the bald dude in the middle, “ain’t like you come from anywhere important either.” 

Once Shane stopped laughing, the rest of them stopped as well. “Fine,” he said. He almost sounded a bit bitter.

“The one on the left,” Dylan said, referring to a tall, slim-toned guy with short, even copper-colored hair, sapphire eyes, and pretty full-lips, “is Isaac. The dude in the middle is Shane, and the one over there on the right,” a guy with richly-tanned skin, a hard, square jaw, with massive, muscular legs and arms, definitely the hottest of the three, which was a very hard thing to accomplish given that all of them were hot as fuck, “is Anthony.”

“Nice to meet you all,” I said, trying to sound casual and confident, but kinda sounding stupid…which is probably why none of them responded.

“Hey,” Dylan said, sounding a bit agitated. “Don’t be fucking rude. If somebody says something to you then fucking say something back.”

“Fuck you, Dylan,” Shane said. “You didn’t say three words to me the first month I was here. This boy’s no better than the rest of us. If he wants respect, he’s gotta earn it.” A second later he asked, “Are you goin’ out with the rest of us tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan replied, “I gotta take him home.” 

“Why don’t you come with us?” Shane asked, staring at me with those sexy, mischievous eyes of his and that wide grin of his, “or unless you gotta be home before daddy whoops your ass?”

“No,” I said, “it’s just that somebody’s at home waiting for me.”

“You gotta girlfriend?” Isaac asked. It was the first time he had ever talked to me. He, as well as the others watched me and waited for my response.

“Leave the dude alone,” Gabe said, his voice coming from the bathroom, “he doesn’t have to tell you shit if he doesn’t want to.”

“Come on, ‘Josh’,” Shane said, placing a heavy emphasis on my name, as if it really weren’t my name, “chill with us for a while. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to you.” Of course I didn’t believe him, but I had to admit that I was tempted to go with them, even though I wasn’t much of a club person.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dylan said quietly to me. 

Against my better judgment, I said, “I can probably hang out for a little while.”

“You sure?” Dylan asked.

Bryan’s face kept popping up in my mind, but I forced it back. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Dylan said, “Me and Josh are gonna get changed and we’ll be back over here by ten o’ clock.” He glanced at me, winked, and then said, “Let’s go.”

Ten o’ clock? Not to sound like a big-ass dork, but that was kinda late to just be going out somewhere. It was bad enough that I was already probably more than a couple hours late getting home back to Bryan, but now I probably wouldn’t be getting home past midnight…probably even later than that.

I followed Dylan out of the guys’ apartment and further down the hall, where he stopped and at another door. “How many roommates do you have?” I asked him as he turned the key into the door.