Established in 1926 by theatre magnate Alexander Pantages, the Orpheum Theater in San Francisco is one of the city's oldest institutions featuring vaudeville, silent films, Hollywood motion pictures and touring Broadway shows. As a historical landmark, the Opheum became the perfect place to hold auditions for the prestigious London's Arts Academy, Saintsborough.
Pulling his wavy long hair in a small ponytail, Ethan swallowed nervously as he checked in at the front entrance and waited for his appointment time to be called for his audition. Pacing in the lobby, he repeatedly read the theater and film posters hung up in the walls before a short stagehand beckoned the twenty one year old to follow him inside. Ethan made his way down the long aisle to the front of the huge stage where a table had been set up near the orchestra pit with four judges sitting at the panel. He counted the six steps of the side of the stage and shyly walked toward the quartet and waited patiently for them to respond.
"State your name and age."
Pushing his glasses back to his face, Ethan spoke up. "Ethan Zylko. Age twenty one."
"And what will you be singing for us today, Mr. Zylko?"
"Alejate by Josh Groban," stated the blond man.
He noticed one of the judges signal to him to begin. Ethan walked over to the piano player with his sheet music and waited after the intro to start displaying his vocal talents. Then he sang.
Aléjate, ya dime adiós
Y me resignare a seguir sin tu calor
Y jamás entenderé que fue lo que paso
Si nada puedo hacer, aléjate
There was an intense timbre in his voice. The judges leaned in and listened intently debating whether Ethan's resonance resembled that of a tenor or a baritone. His voice lowered to a G and at times he hit the notes he raised up to a high B flat. However, no matter how they reviewed the amazing quality of his voice, they all unanimously agreed. Ethan Zylko was someone special.
Ethan finished his song to the sounds of silence. Staring out toward the judges, he waited for their hard harsh critiques but none arrived. Then with a feeble breath, he decided to say something.
"I guess…I'm done," he said. "I suppose I should be going now. Thank you." He began to walk off stage and tried his best not to feel defeated. Then all of a sudden one of the judges stood up.
"Young man, please wait!" The gentleman shouted.
Ethan stopped in his tracks, turned toward the panel and exhibited a puzzled expression on his face. "Yes?"
The man smiled. "Never in the fifty years that Saintsborough been opened has any faculty member responded to any applicant in a manner of shock and surprise. You, Mr. Zylko, are a gifted vocalist and we would be honored to give you a confirmation of being accepted to our music program at our London arts academy."
The blond man's mouth dropped. "You mean it? I'm in?"
The judge nodded. "You, sir, are a rare breed. We normally deliberate after we meet with every potential applicant and let them know after a few weeks if they are accepted or not but I can honestly say that no one is better suited for our school than you are!"
Suddenly each of the other judges smiled, stood up and applauded the twenty one year old. Ethan felt like dancing but he tried to remain poised.
"Thank you!" He responded as he felt the urge to cry. "Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me!"
"I'm sure we do," giggled the judge. He pulled a stack of documents from his brief case and handed it to the blond gentleman. "These are your housing forms for our dormitories, the financial aid and scholarship packet, and catalog of classes. Please fill this out and you can either fax, scan and e-mail, or mail via international postage. The packet must arrive no later than the last day of the next month and the first semester begins in six months after that. We hope to see you there!"
"Count on it!" Ethan grinned grabbing the packet. He did a jig and walked out of the theater's auditorium. The panel seemed very pleased with their decision.
The twenty one race out of the Orpheum and called the first person he could think of to inform him of the good news. His boyfriend Justin.
Dialing the surfer on his cell, all he got was his voice mail. Strange, Justin did say he would be home.
Lombardi Village, Villatuono
Rafael finished the painting of the olive tree landscape that he did with in oil and began to wash his hands. Please with the final product, he stood back to observe the intricate lines of his image that he captured with a realistic quality. The colors blended together, formed a flawless pattern of shapes and shadows that it closely resembled a photograph than a painting. He pondered selling it at the local art fair for a moment before the doorbell rang in his private villa.
Cleaning his brushes, he changed into a clean shirt and raced downstairs to answer the door. Standing in doorway was a beautifully, exotic 5'8 woman of olive complexion with long dark hair, brown eyes wearing a designer green dress and tan straw hat. She sauntered in, spread out her arms, and greeted the handsome artist with a devotional smile.
"Hermano! Ciao bella!" She embraced the man and kissed him on both sides of his cheeks.
"Daniella!" Rafael smiled. "What are you doing here?"
"Can't your sister come visit her big brother?" She giggled. The wealthy woman walked over to her sibling's liquor cabinet, took out a small bottle of gin, poured herself a glass, and found a seat on the couch.
"Half-sister," corrected Rafael. "How are your sisters, Dina and Isabelle?"
Daniella sipped her glass. "Doing wonderfully as usual. Dina will be graduating and attending school in Paris and Isabelle is being wooed by some Austrian count."
The artist sighed. "Figures Isabelle would be landing herself a rich husband."
"What can I say? The Donatis are spoiled rich brats with too much money on their hands," laughed the exotic woman. "I should know. I'm one of them!"
"Callete brutta!" He loved to tease his younger sister. "You like to talk a good game but truthfully, you enjoy doing charity ambassadorial work. You don't mind volunteering in third world countries and getting your hands dirty. That to me doesn't make you a spoiled brat like many other privileged offsprings."
"Oh hush!" Daniella pouted. "You'll ruin my reputation. I'm the brutta that everyone supposed to hate like those essere fottuto Paris Hiltons or that Kim Kardashians. Seriously, Rafael, all those bitches have that much money and they are famous for doing nothing."
Rafael snickered. "That's because none of them are royalty like you, Princess Daniella."
The exotic woman clucked her tongue. "Ugh! I wish you wouldn't call me that. I hate monarchy labels. It's so preconceived and arrogant. I'm simply Daniella Donati, a simple Villatuone woman who has parents who happen to be extremely wealthy and of royal blood."
"This coming from a woman who is wearing a designer sun dress," teased the artist. "What is it? Gucci?"
"Louis Vuitton," said Daniella.
He rolled his eyes. "Figures."
She sipped her glass of gin. "Don't get judgmental, big brother. You are a prince after all."
Rafael scowled. "No. I'm the illegitimate son of a king. That doesn't make me a prince."
"That's where you wrong, Rafael!" Daniella stated. "You are only the surviving male heir of our father. Therefore your birth, no matter now scandalous, makes you next in line for the throne. It's time you accept your role as a Donati and accept Father's support."
"I DON'T NEED HIS MONEY!" He snapped which caused his younger sibling to jump. Counting to ten, he calmed down for a bit and looked at his sister. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. All my life, I've been labeled a bastard by my fellow countrymen and felt like an outsider. My mother and I struggled but we somehow managed to survive without the king's help. I'm happy where I am and I don't need a fancy title or some lineage to the throne to prove that."
Daniella stood up. "Father misses you, Rafael. You're his only son. Look my parents' marriage was arranged. She was a Duchess and he was the king. When they wed, they both consented to having lovers outside the confines of their union. My mother carried long secretive affair with her male assistant, Antonio, and Father kept your mother, Guadalupe, as his mistress. It became a happy arrangement between the pair and both agreed to financially support the two of you. Yet, you and Guadalupe refused to accept any money. Why is that?"
"Mama is a proud Villatuone woman," explained Rafael. "You of all people should relate to this that the females of our culture are strong minded individuals and full of pride. She vowed to support herself and her son by not asking a penny from the king. She once told me she loved King Hernando enough not to burden him with such matters."
"Smart woman," commented his younger sibling. "Still, I think it was foolish not to accept Father's help but then again I respect Guadalupe for her tenacity." She exhaled. "Do you think you'll ever forgive the king and finally meet with him?"
The handsome man sighed. "Perhaps. There are too many open wounds that haven't healed so I don't know if that is going to happen any time soon. Mama is urging me to reconcile with him but I feel I still need more time. She has always loved the man and despite everything he has never wronged her. I have to admire her for that."
"Speaking of admiration," remarked Daniella who decided to change the subject. "I hear you've finished a new painting. Can I see it?"
"Of course," said Rafael. He led her up the stairs to the studio room of his villa and showed her his olive tree landscape. The princess gasped.
"Rafael!" She beamed. "This is beautiful! It's like a real life photograph! You're amazingly talented!"
"Thank you," replied the dark haired man. "I'm considering selling it at the art fair in town."
"Why would you sell something so remarkable?" She asked him. "It should be displayed in a museum!"
Her brother paused for a moment then decided to reveal his intentions to her. "I'm applying to London's Saintsborough Arts Academy. However, the application process is really competitive and they're holding an art exhibit in San Francisco for one week so that potential artists can showcase their work to be considered for acceptance to the school. I'm selling a couple of my paintings to fund the trip."
"Rafael!" His sister frowned. "What didn't you come to me? I would have given you the money! You're my big brother and I would gladly help you with your schooling!"
"No!" Rafael responded flatly. "I'm going to do this on my own. I don't need your money or even Father's! I'm a Garcia and a Garcia proudly resolves problems on their own!"
Daniella slapped the back of his head. "Bastardo! You have too much pride even if you are a Garcia! You're so much like Father with your stubbornness! Listen to me, hermano! I am going to help fund this trip as your escort and I will go with you to the art exhibit to show my love and support and that's final!"
"Like hell!" The artist shouted.
Shaking a finger in front of his face, the princess stopped him. "Don't try to challenge me, Rafael! If you don't, I will let Diego Hernandez know what your intentions are so he can stalk you and prevent you from leaving Villatuono! Don't think I wouldn't!"
Daniella and Rafael have been always close that her older sibling's homosexuality has never been a secret from her. Truthfully, the princess accepted her brother's sexual orientation with open arms. A fact that she shielded from her father and other members of her family in order to safeguard the privacy of those closest to her; the princess of Villatuono fiercely protected her loved ones and ensured that the public never got an opportunity to search through the Donati's dirty laundry. It had been awhile that Daniella had known of Rafael's affair with much married Baron Diego Hernandez and she did not approve of the relationship from the very beginning even going as far as goading her sibling with idle threats.
Rafael curled his mouth downward. "You wouldn't?"
The exotic woman smirked. "I would. You know I despise Baron Diego more than anyone because of the way he treats you as some shameful secret. You're better than that, Rafael. However, if you're going to let your pigheaded ways prevent you from taking advantage of my generosity for this amazing opportunity, I'm just desperate enough to go to your lover and spill all your intentions to him."
"OKAY!" The artist shouted. "I surrender! I'll let you be my escort and finance this trip to America! But I want a couple things in return."
Daniella clapped her hands with excitement. "Bellissima! I can't wait to pack! Now what are these couple of requests you asking for?"
"First," noted Rafael. "Tell no one of my plans to attend that London Art School. Not your mother, sisters, and, more importantly, the King. Second, keep this a secret from Baron Diego. I'm purposely avoiding him because I no longer want any complications of continuing this ridiculous affair!"
"Aye mis Dios!" The princess cheered. "Finally, you are breaking up with that bastardo! Good for you!"
"Believe me, Daniella," said her brother. "Getting involved with him was the biggest mistake of my life. Anyway, my final request is this."
"I wish for us to go incognito to San Francisco. That means no private jet, no luxury hotel, and no flashy designer clothes. We fly coach, rent a room in one of the American motels, and wear affordable thrift store clothing. No fine dining. Instead we eat fast food or some affordable meal. I don't want anyone knowing we're related to royalty or wealth. It'll make us fit in better with the common folk."
Daniella shrugged. "I could live with that. I mean I did sleep in a tent in Africa while we fed the villagers plagued by famine. One week won't make a world of difference if we decide to be frugal. I'm in!"
"Then it's settled," smiled the artist. "We'll book a flight and hotel next week for the art exhibit in San Francisco."
"I can't wait," remarked the exotic woman. "I'm sure it's going to be quite an adventure.
Pleasant Hill, San Francisco
"You like that? You like my dick in your ass, you little bitch?"
Twenty two year old Leo Valley clasped his ankles with both hands as he tried to keep his feet leveled next to his head. It was a little difficult especially with the back of his cranium banging against the headboard. The 5'9, brown haired, brown eyed thin man bit his lip as his lover, Justin Wallace, rammed his hard cock inside his tiny hole. Six inches of man meat teased the homewrecking twink's ass, forcing him to grip his legs even tighter while the surfer continued to stroke the outer rim of the young man's rectum.
"Fuck me, Justin!" Leo demanded. "Fuck me!"
The blond cheater curled his hands around the clean sheets. Leo's ass felt wonderful. He had been secretly seeing the young man while Ethan had been busy toiling away at night. Justin offered him an entertaining distraction from his boyfriend's constant nagging. After three years together, the surfer began to grow bored in their relationship to the point that he began seeking new sexual partners online. There he met Leo and two became a hot and heavy item. Unlike Ethan who seemed to lie like a dead fish in bed, the twenty two year old twink was much more responsive during sex and that turned on the twenty six year old even more.
"Take it, you little slut! Take it!" Justin grunted.
"Yes! I'm your little whore! Your bitch boy!" Leo proudly screamed. "Keep fucking me!"
The rapid thrust of his hips excited the thin lad. Wiggling his toes, another slam of his older lover's cock caused his tiny giblets to curl. Justin sank his cock further inside Leo's eager hole. The brown haired boy banged his head even harder against the headboard as his body shook with delight. The surfer's erection tickled the tiny nerves inside Leo's anus and the brown eyed twink licked his lips in response to the wonderful satisfaction his blond lover was giving him. He did not want this pleasure to end.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Leo enjoyed being demanding as Justin loved being responsive. Sensing the white hot heat surging, the blond surfer tried to hold it all in.
"God! Your ass feels so good!" Justin cried out.
Outside of his apartment, Ethan parked his car in the parking lot of his complex and tried unsuccessfully to reach his boyfriend via phone or text. Turning off the engine, he got of the vehicle and headed up the stairs to open the front door. Empty beer bottles littered the living room as the kitchen was a mess filled with empty pizza boxes and dirty dishes piled on both the dining table and sink.
Glancing down, Ethan noticed a mess of clothes scattered everywhere on the floor that left a trail leading to his bedroom. Weird noises startled him as he pricked his ears to listen to the strange ghostly sounds coming from the hallway.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Hello?" The blond musician called out. No response. The noises began to increase. Shifting his feet, Ethan slowly approached his bedroom door.
More bizarre sounds emitted from behind his bedroom. He swallowed a nervous breath, touched the doorknob, and slowly turned. The door creaked slightly as did the echoes of bouncing bedsprings before his blue eyes observed a shocking sight.
"I'm gonna cum…I'm gonna fucking cum!" Justin withdrew his cock from Leo's ass and gripped it tight with the palm of his hand. Noticing his boyfriend just finishing up barebacking some strange twink made Ethan's mouth drop. Justin grabbed his erection and began stroking himself furiously.
"Cum all over me!" Leo crawled over to the surfer's groin. "Cum all over my face!"
"Here you go, bitch!" Justin sneered. "AAAHHHHHH!"
A splash of white coated the brown haired lad's face. Webbed in a waterfall of his lover's climax, Leo fell back on to the mattress enjoying the creamy stickiness of his blond surfer's jism. Ethan cleared his throat as both men shot up to see him standing dumbfounded in the middle of the doorway.
"ETHAN!" His boyfriend screeched. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HOME?"
The knot in Ethan's throat blocked his saliva when he swallowed. His eyes began to water as he spoke to Justin. "I…got accepted to Saintsborough…I didn't know you had company…I'm sorry…"
Turning his back toward the couple in his bed, the blond man went into the living room to plop down on the couch. He felt the world crashing around him.