Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Heroes - Pt 3
JH was suddenly aware that this was not just any beautiful boy here, this was Billy T Carver and he was rich - mega-rich. A nobody simply did not belong in Billy T's world. He sat up and looked back down at him. Damm! He was so beautiful. Life was unfair.
"What's the matter?" Billy T asked, worriedly. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No! You didn't. You couldn't. Look, umm, Billy - well, you're rich and I'm not."
"Do you want my money?"
"What? No! Of course I don't want your money I wish that you didn't have any."
"Well, that's good because I haven't anyway."
"You haven't? But. Yes you have, you must be worth millions. What about Billy's Burgers?"
"What about them? I don't own Billy's Burgers, it's my granddads' company. Granddad Billy and Granddad Justin are the major shareholders. There's other people who've got shares as well, but not me. I don't own any of it."
"You don't? But your face is on everything - all the advertising and the logo. Did they just use you for a model?"
"No," Billy T laughed. "That's not me. That's Granddad Billy when he was a boy. His face is on everything, not mine."
"It's not you then? Oh. Sure looks like you."
"Yeah, I know, but it's him not me. Well, he is my granddad. I wouldn't be much use to them - you couldn't have a cripple advertising healthy food."
"Oh, Billy, don't! Don't call yourself that. You're not a cripple."
"I'm not? Could've fooled me. I look like a cripple."
"Well you're not! You're not a cripple, you're just a boy who was in an accident. But, that's beside the point; you're still way above my world. I'm down there on the ground and you're up here in the clouds."
"I can come down there and you can come up here. We've got elevators."
"That's not what I'm talking about. Okay, maybe you don't own Billy's Burgers, yet. One day you will. Your family is rich."
"I suppose they are. We just don't think about it. Yeah, I'm probably in my granddad's wills, but I'd rather have my granddads. I won't be the only one, they've got a huge family and lots of friends. Anyway, they're not going anywhere soon. Granddad's Grandmother still lives with us and looks like she might do forever."
"She's an amazing old lady."
"She is! Plus, your dad's not exactly destitute. Whatever he's got he'll leave to you."
"Why would he do that? I'm a stranger to him. I only just met him a couple of weeks ago."
"You're not a stranger. You're the son and heir, the only son."
"I, umm, yes, I suppose that I might be. But there won't be a fortune, he works for a living. He works for your family, they own everything, not him."
"Of course he works, everybody should. One day, you'll work for a living and so will I, hopefully. But, I wouldn't bet on him not having a fortune for you. There's his partner, Bobby's income as well, remember. Bobby will be worth millions."
"No!"
"Yes! He's a world-famous musician isn't he? They don't get paid peanuts."
"But that's nothing to do with me, I haven't even met Bobby, yet."
"Doesn't matter. He's your dad's partner, so, legally, you're his son and heir as well."
"But. Am I? It doesn't matter anyway, they'll probably be around for 50 years or something."
"Yeah, they could, and so could my granddads. Forget about all of that, none of it matters anyway. Do you want something to eat?"
"No, I'm fine."
"You are - real fine! What about a drink then?"
"No, no drink either. Billy, I don't want anything, I just want to be here with you."
"Cool. Me too. Hold me, JH."
He did.
They lay and quietly snuggled together.
"Why JH?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you called JH and not James or Jim or something?"
"Dunno really. I just am. I've always been JH. Why are you Billy T? What does the 'T' stand for?"
"Nothing at all."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. It's a joke, sort of. A long, long time ago there was a comedian, a maori guy; he was very popular and he was always known as Billy T James. The 'T' sounds a bit like the maori 'te' or 'the'."
"So you're Billy the Carver?"
"Yeah, that's me. Plus, it stops me getting confused with Granddad, he's Billy, I'm Billy T."
"Makes sense. You're the new improved version."
"You think? Well, you're the new improved version of James Hargreaves."
"Yeah! My Great, Great, Granddad."
"Our Great, Great, Granddad - Cousin."
"Kiss me, Cousin."
"Oh yes!"
Earlier, when Billy T and JH left the school and rolled away up Derby Street, Peter and Carl watched them going and Peter grinned. "Mission accomplished!"
"Yeah. You did good, Peter," Carl grinned back. "That's good for them."
"It is. Really good for them. Why can't we do that, Carl?"
"Well, we haven't got a wheelchair for a start. Oops! The dork fell off the chair."
"He did? Yeah, he's all right. Forget about those two, I'm trying to have a serious convo here. Why can't we go home together?"
"You know why we can't. My father would go ballistic."
"It's about time your father grew up. We're gay and there's nothing he can do about it."
"I know that. You know that, but he doesn't. He thinks that if he can keep us apart then it will all blow over."
"Know something, Carl? I think he's right."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that it is blowing over. I do love you, I love you very much, but I'm not going to live like this - sneaking around and hiding in corners. I've had it."
"Peter! You can't say that."
"I can say that. I said it and I mean it. You go and sort things with your father, until then - goodbye, Carl."
Peter walked away, Carl stood staring after him.
"Peter! Don't, please."
"Sort it, Carl." He kept walking.
Everything inside him was screaming, 'Stop! Turn around. Go back!' but, no, he would not. Enough was enough. They'd been friends forever and no-one had a problem with it until now.
Now everything had changed. They'd gone beyond friendship, they were in love and Carl's father was saying that they could not be. Jerk! It was about time Carl grew some balls. He was a nice kid, but he let people walk all over him, especially his father. He always had.
Redheads are supposed to have fiery tempers weren't they? Carl might have the red hair of his Carver ancestors, but he'd never shown any sign of having a temper. The kid was a wimp!
He was bigger than Peter, physically, he always had been, but all their lives, it had always been Peter sticking up for him and not the other way around. If they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, and Peter seriously intended that they would, then he needed to know that Carl could defend him if he needed to.
For that to happen, Carl was going to have to start at the top and deal to their biggest nemesis - his father. Once he got that out of the way, nothing and no-one else would be a problem. Carl was going to have to do something.
Carl watched the boy he loved walking away and, yes, he was right. He was going to have to deal with this, but - how? His father could be a jerk and a bully at times and he intimidated him. Always had.
He sighed as he watched Peter disappear into the distance. He wasn't concerned, much. Peter would be back, he had to. Neither of them could live without the other, and both of them knew that. But, what if?
What if Peter really did walk away from him and not come back? Carl had never thought that would happen, but now he was not so sure. What would he do without him? He didn't want to think about that. But, it could happen!
He would just die, that's all. There was no life for him without Peter in it. Full of resolution, he went home to talk to his father.
He arrived home to the complex where they lived, the Riverside Motels and Apartments, on the Esplanade, by the bridge. This was the only home he'd ever known, his parents had managed the place since before he was born. Well, his mother managed it really. His father spent most of his days in his home-office, on the computer. He worked, mainly, for Billy's Burgers, in marketing and administration.
Carl waved his hand over the buzzer and stood, nervous but resolute, in front of the camera by the door. The light changed from red to green and the door slid open. He took a deep breath and stepped into his father's sanctum.
Carl Senior sat, as usual, in front of the computer. Without looking around, he waved at the chair beside him.
"Sit down, Son. I'll be with you in a minute."
Carl sat clutching his hands together and trying not to look nervous. (It wasn't working).
After a couple of minutes, he shut down the programme and turned to face his son.
"Dammit! I'm surrounded by idiots! What can I do for you, Carl?"
"Dad, umm, look if this is not a good time, I can come back later."
"No. Now's as good a time as any. Spit it out."
"Well, okay. It's about Peter - Peter and me."
"What about Peter and you?"
"I love him, Dad. I really love him; I always have and I always will and he loves me too. I can't live without him and sooner or later we are going to be together. We have to! If that means that you kick me out of the family, I'm sorry, but I'm still going to."
"You have to be with Peter? Do you seriously believe that you are old enough to make a decision like that?"
Damm. Carl wanted to burst into tears and run away, but he wouldn't, he couldn't. He'd come this far and this was way too important to back down now.
"Carl? I asked you a question. Are you old enough?"
"Yes, Dad, I am," he gulped. "I'm plenty old enough. There is no decision, I can't live without him."
"You can't? I thought I told you to stay away from Peter?"
"You did."
"And you've been seeing him anyway. Is this relationship sexual?"
"Well, yes." Carl whispered. His face was bright-red.
"Don't talk to the floor. I can't hear you, Boy."
Carl gulped again, lifted his head and took a breath. "Yes we are having sex, every chance we get. I love him."
"And he loves you?"
"He does."
Carl Senior got up out of his chair and stood, with his back to him, looking out at the river "So you think that you're old enough to take control of your life. Are you willing to give up your comfortable life here, to give up your home and your family all to be with Peter Reynolds?"
"Yes, Dad, I am. I don't want to, I do love you and Mum and everyone else, but I'll give it up if I have to. I can't live without him. I can't and I won't!"
Carl Senior turned around and studied his son. "You're serious?"
"Deadly serious."
"Well, good!" He smiled.
"Good?" Carl could not believe his ears. This conversation had gone beyond weird. He rose to his feet.
"Dad, what do you mean 'good'? Are you kicking me out?"
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