FIC: Radio Friendly 3 of 10 (Blake/Chris, PG-13)
Author: Clio
Title: Radio Friendly Part 3 of 10: This Is the One They'll Have to Beat
Pairing: Blake/Chris (American Idol)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Blake Lewis makes an interesting discovery.
Length: 2700 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Radio Friendly is an AU set in 1962, when New York was the center of pop music and the Brill Building was where it all happened, when a group of talented songwriters and producers crafted perfect pop hits for artists whose every move was controlled by their label. Pictures and songs will be used along the way to take you back to yesteryear-and for those who'd like more info, see the additional author's note at the bottom.
You're reading this story because lillijulianne was so enthusiastic and allysonsedai insisted that it see the light of day, because they were willing to keep reading even when I sent three chapters in one weekend, and were instrumental in the flow, in pointing out what it needed and what it didn't, and in holding my hand through the entire thing. Thank you, ladies!
Chapter 1: Come to Where the Flavor Is
Chapter 2: Where Particular People Congregate
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 29, 1962
Blake knew, in his rational mind, that miracles neither happened nor were necessary for success. All he and Chris needed to show for such a young partnership was a better record than he'd had lately on his own, which wouldn't be particularly difficult. And they'd done well at their very first pitch meeting a month ago. Randy Jackson, the producer who helped Simon create his Syco Sound, heard the soul that Chris had put into the new tunes and grabbed one of them, with lyrics written by Chris, for the Kittens.
But Blake's fantasy mind, the one that had been writing the script for "The Blake Lewis Story" (soon to be a major motion picture starring Paul Newman) since he was ten, was sure that he and Chris would set the world on fire. He really wanted this Kittens song to be a huge hit, so he and Chris decided to hang out in the studio with Randy, Elliott and the girls, ready to make any changes.
This change in practice didn't go unnoticed at a small label like Syco. "Came in the studio voluntarily, Blake?" Elliott asked him that first day.
"Just want to do my share," Blake answered, blandly, glad Chris hadn't arrived yet. "It's all about the record."
Elliott nodded slowly, as though Blake were a child, then turned back to his work. "The girls are coming in this afternoon. We're laying down the rhythm tracks now."
Randy Jackson had been a session and tour band member in his own right, so he preferred to sit in the room with the musicians and left it to Elliott to sit behind the board and make sure everything ran smoothly.
Chris came in just a few minutes later, handing a tea to Blake, and looked around the studio. "Gee, this is great," he said.
"Been in a studio before?" Elliott asked.
"Yeah, but just you know, those little storefront ones. I'll just sit over here and watch," he said, finding a large armchair in the corner.
Blake stayed put, sitting next to Elliott at the board, which he thought was probably best. Less temptation to do any inappropriate touching, or extended staring. He faced forward, watching Randy try a few different styles under their simple melody. And so it went for the morning, with he and Chris making occasional suggestions or changes. The musicians were pretty much done by lunchtime, and the four men sat in the booth eating a lunch of delivered sandwiches and awaiting the arrival of the three girl singers who made up the Kittens.
The Kittens had been the brainchild of Simon, who wanted a girl group with sexy but not bad girls, and took his cue from Playboy.
The three Kittens did look like Playmates in their costumes, except that Simon didn't share Hugh Hefner's fetish for blondes, so the girls were brunettes with long bouncy hair, creamy skin, long legs and decent, if not abundant, cleavage. The kind of girl that a fella could bring out to a night club on a Saturday night and impress the boys, but could still cook a pot roast to impress the boss at Sunday dinner.
Haley, as usual, was first to arrive; she was the most responsible and consistent of the Kittens. If it weren't for her cute figure and pretty face Blake thought she probably wouldn't even be performing; she didn't have that fire that he usually saw in singers. She had a nice little voice and she could fill out the ultra-sexy Kitten costumes, but she also had a nice fiance and came from a nice home and after this was all over Blake was pretty sure that she'd have a nice house in the suburbs with two cars and 2.5 children, and be perfectly happy about it.
"My goodness!" she said. "You'd think a girl could ride the IRT without getting pinched! Hello, Randy."
"Not when the girl looks like you, baby," Randy replied, hugging her, and Blake suddenly remembered why he steered clear of the studio. Not only was he no good at the fake showbiz bullshit chat, it made him feel queasy to hear it, and he had just eaten a salami and cream cheese on rye with extra potato salad on the side which he really didn't need to be tasting again.
Gina came in just behind her. She was a close friend of Blake's, one of the few connected to Syco who knew what kind of clubs he actually frequented and sometimes came along herself. Gina was a tough girl who balanced out Haley's nicey niceness. She had that fire, and Blake hoped she'd go far after the Kittens' run ended.
"So," she said, walking over to Chris as though no one else was in the room, "you're Chris. I'm Gina. I heard you wrote the lyrics to our new song."
Chris shook Gina's outstretched hand. "Yes, ma'am," Chris said. "But we both did the music and Blake has a good take on the vocal arrangement."
Gina kept hold of Chris, but turned to look at Blake, who stood off to the side. "Ain't he sweet? How can you stand it?"
"Gina," Blake warned, giving her his smallest scowl. He should never have told her about his stupid pointless crush.
"Call me Gina instead of ma'am," she said to Chris, "and we'll get along fine."
"I thought I was running late," Haley said. "Where's Kathy?"
"Being on time doesn't let you make an entrance," Gina said, sitting on a stool and lighting a cigarette. "And remember, she has a new name."
"Oh that's right," Haley said. "I keep forgetting. Kat."
"Someone say my name?" said the final Kitten as she walked through the door. Unlike the other girls, who were dressed comfortably in capri pants, ballet flats, and knit tops, their hair pulled into neat ponytails, Kat looked almost as though she were on stage. Her hair was loose and cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a slim a-line dress that had a low enough scoop to show off the shadow of her cleavage and a high enough hem to feature her long legs. "Oh dear, I'm not late, am I?"
"Not at all," Elliott said, jumping up to bring her in and close the door behind her, then steer her to his seat. "How could we start without you?"
Gina looked at Blake and rolled her eyes. Poor Elliott, he was so gone for this girl and she didn't seem to notice he was in the room half the time. Not that Kat was at all unkind, but she did like a new toy, and she didn't trust anyone who liked her singing as much or praised her as often as Elliott did. It was as though she'd got so used to Simon's bluntness that she didn't trust anything else. While Gina had a fire to perform, Kat had a killer instinct, and the ability to zero in on the most powerful person in the room. Sadly for Elliott, that was never him.
Sure enough, she turned to look at Chris. "You're new here," she said. "I'm Kat."
"I'm Chris. I'm writing with Blake."
Kat looked him up and down. "Well, pleased to meet you, I'm sure," she said, holding out her hand, which Chris shook gingerly, blushing.
Blake felt a sudden rush of jealousy, and then anger at himself. Chris didn't belong to him in any way, despite their going out at least once every weekend and for dinners several times during the week. Eventually, he'd find a nice girl and Blake would just have to get over himself. "Well, now that everyone is here, let's go work on these vocals. We've been thinking this song might suit Gina better to sing lead on, if that's okay, Kat."
"Of course," Kat said, not taking her eyes off Chris. "I don't need to sing lead all the time. Gina should have a turn."
Blake wondered if Kat was being so agreeable because she wanted to look good in front of Chris, but if that's what it took he was fine with it. "Great, let's go to the piano and get started."
"You're coming in too, aren't you, Chris?" Kat asked him.
"Of course," Chris said, moving forward, and Kat took his arm-which he hadn't exactly offered-and walked into the other room with him. Gina and Haley just snickered, and Blake would have too, in spite of his jealousy, but he couldn't help but notice Elliott was pushing the buttons to set the levels with a little more effort than was strictly necessary. Blake gave him a quick pat on the back, wishing he could tell Elliott just how much he empathized with his situation.
Despite personality quirks, the girls were nothing if not professional-indeed, no one lasted long at Syco who wasn't a hard worker-and after a few run-throughs at the piano Randy agreed with Chris and Blake that Gina should take the lead on the song, though he wanted to lay down a demo of Kat singing the lead to placate Simon, who favored the girl. Haley didn't take much time to lay down her simple harmonies, then Kat sang her tracks and went back into the booth to sit in a chair next to Chris. As Gina wasn't used to singing the lead, she was a bit nervous, so Haley went into the room to give her some moral support while Blake gently coached her from the booth. Randy put himself out of Gina's field of vision, not speaking but making occasional hand signals to Blake.
Good thing he was so busy, as Blake really didn't need to be watching Kat flirting with Chris. Not that he could blame her; Chris would be a catch for anyone but landing a songwriting boyfriend was a dream for any singer. During their dinner break, though, it was hard to ignore, and even if Chris didn't seem entirely willing, Kat was determined. She sat on a couch right next to him, helping herself to some of his fried rice while he told her how different the food was in Chinatown.
"Really?" Kat said, batting her eyelashes and all. "I'd love to try some of that real Chinese food but I just wouldn't know where to go."
"Well," Chris said, "maybe a group of us should go down there sometime."
"I'd like that," she replied.
"What is she doing?" whispered Haley, who sat on the other side of Gina from Blake. "Honey, if he wants to take out a group that means not you."
Blake shook his head. Chris certainly seemed happy enough to humor Kat, but firm on not asking her out, which surprised Blake. Well, perhaps he didn't like forward girls, being a southern gentleman and all.
Gina shook her head, then said rather loudly, cutting through the general din, "So Chris, I have a question about this song."
Chris looked up quickly. "Anything you need to know, Gina. You're the singer."
Gina cocked her head. "It's about Blake, isn't it?"
Chris coughed, as though he'd swallowed his tea wrong. "Well, um, you know, I hadn't thought about it, but it certainly could be," he stammered. "I was thinking about the kind of boy I'd wanted to be when I was in high school when I wrote it. But I did write it after I met Blake, so."
"Why would it be about Blake?" Kat asked, irritation giving an edge to her voice.
Gina cleared her throat, then sang the first verse:See the way he walks down the street
Watch the way he shuffles his feet
My, he holds his head up high
"Isn't that just how Blake walks around town?"
"I don't shuffle my feet," Blake protested, glaring at Gina.
Chris looked a bit pink, but then again, it was rather warm in the room with all of them and the Chinese food.
"You know, I think Gina's right," Haley said. "And the next part, too:"My baby's always the one
To try the things they've never done
"That's more like it," Blake said.
"He certainly is a rebel," Kat added, not wanting to be left out. "How sweet, Chris, that you wrote something for your new friend and you didn't even know it! And how clever to make it into a romance so we could sing it!"
"Well, that backfired," Haley muttered.
Kat had turned on the couch so she faced Chris, almost sitting in his lap. "You have some matches, don't you?" she asked, a cigarette in her hand. "I'm fresh out."
"Oh Kat, I wish you'd eat more," Haley said.
"You know how annoyed the seamstress is that she has to keep altering your costumes," Gina added.
"Here, Kat," Elliott said. "There's more eggrolls, and I know you like them."
"Oh, Elliott, stop fussing over me," Kat said, dismissing him. "I couldn't eat another bite and I want a cigarette now." She slipped her hand into Chris's jacket pocket, pulling out a box of matches. "What a pretty box," she said.
Chris's eyes went wide. "Yeah, um, here, I'll light it for you," he said, quickly pulling the box out of her fingers.
But it didn't matter what Chris did then to obscure the name on the box; Blake would recognize that dark purple and gold edging of the Wrong Wray Bar anyplace. His head was spinning. Handsome Chris in a trashy gay bar like that? It couldn't have been an accident; the Wrong Wray was one of those former speakeasies that were half in a basement with a secret back entrance so the clientele could get away in the case of a raid.
"You okay?" Gina whispered to him. "You've stopped breathing."
Blake blinked. Chris had lit Kat's cigarette and put the box away in an inner jacket pocket. But he wasn't watching her as she prattled on about costumes with Haley; instead, his eyes were lowered, as if he didn't dare look anyone in the eye. No, that matchbox was no accident. Now he could really share everything with his new friend. Sure, his crush had just become more pathetic and would be harder to hide, but having a real pal to run around with would be worth that. "I'm not just okay," Blake replied. "I'm fantastic."
"You are so weird," Gina said.
Randy declared dinner break over shortly after that and Gina went back to working on her vocal, Haley and Randy joining her in the other room. The instant Kat excused herself to "toddle off to the powder room" Blake wandered over to Chris's corner, kneeling on the chair Kat had been sitting on and putting his hand on Chris's shoulder.
"You know, Chris," he said, low enough that Elliott couldn't hear, "if you want to go out Saturday night, I can show you to much classier places than the Wrong Wray. Let me guess, you got the name from a navy buddy?" He rubbed his hand along the back of Chris's neck.
Chris had gone completely scarlet, and looked like he might start shaking. "Um, yeah, I did."
Blake shook his head. "You're too good for that dive. You rate a much better class of fag than that. Actually, I'd kinda enjoy showing you off."
Chris looked up at Blake. "Showing me off? You mean … "
"Yep." Leaning into Chris's ear, so close his mouth almost touched it, he sang, softly:We're a couple'a fags
To us, girls are such fun hags
But we prefer to neck with boys we see in the fashion mags.
Blake smiled, patting Chris on the shoulder, and then turned back to the work at hand, more energized than he'd felt all evening. "Okay, Gina," he said into the mike, "let's take it from the top. And if I can be any inspiration, you're welcome to sing it to me."
Gina replied with a rude gesture that got the whole crew laughing just as Kat returned to the room. "What happened? What did I miss?"
So much, Blake thought. So very, very much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Kittens sing "He's a Rebel"
Blake makes up his own lyrics to "We're a Couple'a Swells which Fred Astaire and Judy Garland sang in Easter Parade: http://youtube.com/watch?v=YU3robyaNAY
Chapter 4: You've Come a Long Way Baby. Includes music AND Ryan Seacrest!
Notes: There are lots of converted speakeasies in lower Manhattan; Chumley's is one of the best known. Yes, gay bars were still getting raided in 1962; more on that later.
Title: Radio Friendly Part 3 of 10: This Is the One They'll Have to Beat
Pairing: Blake/Chris (American Idol)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Blake Lewis makes an interesting discovery.
Length: 2700 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Radio Friendly is an AU set in 1962, when New York was the center of pop music and the Brill Building was where it all happened, when a group of talented songwriters and producers crafted perfect pop hits for artists whose every move was controlled by their label. Pictures and songs will be used along the way to take you back to yesteryear-and for those who'd like more info, see the additional author's note at the bottom.
You're reading this story because lillijulianne was so enthusiastic and allysonsedai insisted that it see the light of day, because they were willing to keep reading even when I sent three chapters in one weekend, and were instrumental in the flow, in pointing out what it needed and what it didn't, and in holding my hand through the entire thing. Thank you, ladies!
Chapter 1: Come to Where the Flavor Is
Chapter 2: Where Particular People Congregate
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 29, 1962
Blake knew, in his rational mind, that miracles neither happened nor were necessary for success. All he and Chris needed to show for such a young partnership was a better record than he'd had lately on his own, which wouldn't be particularly difficult. And they'd done well at their very first pitch meeting a month ago. Randy Jackson, the producer who helped Simon create his Syco Sound, heard the soul that Chris had put into the new tunes and grabbed one of them, with lyrics written by Chris, for the Kittens.
But Blake's fantasy mind, the one that had been writing the script for "The Blake Lewis Story" (soon to be a major motion picture starring Paul Newman) since he was ten, was sure that he and Chris would set the world on fire. He really wanted this Kittens song to be a huge hit, so he and Chris decided to hang out in the studio with Randy, Elliott and the girls, ready to make any changes.
This change in practice didn't go unnoticed at a small label like Syco. "Came in the studio voluntarily, Blake?" Elliott asked him that first day.
"Just want to do my share," Blake answered, blandly, glad Chris hadn't arrived yet. "It's all about the record."
Elliott nodded slowly, as though Blake were a child, then turned back to his work. "The girls are coming in this afternoon. We're laying down the rhythm tracks now."
Randy Jackson had been a session and tour band member in his own right, so he preferred to sit in the room with the musicians and left it to Elliott to sit behind the board and make sure everything ran smoothly.
Chris came in just a few minutes later, handing a tea to Blake, and looked around the studio. "Gee, this is great," he said.
"Been in a studio before?" Elliott asked.
"Yeah, but just you know, those little storefront ones. I'll just sit over here and watch," he said, finding a large armchair in the corner.
Blake stayed put, sitting next to Elliott at the board, which he thought was probably best. Less temptation to do any inappropriate touching, or extended staring. He faced forward, watching Randy try a few different styles under their simple melody. And so it went for the morning, with he and Chris making occasional suggestions or changes. The musicians were pretty much done by lunchtime, and the four men sat in the booth eating a lunch of delivered sandwiches and awaiting the arrival of the three girl singers who made up the Kittens.
The Kittens had been the brainchild of Simon, who wanted a girl group with sexy but not bad girls, and took his cue from Playboy.
The three Kittens did look like Playmates in their costumes, except that Simon didn't share Hugh Hefner's fetish for blondes, so the girls were brunettes with long bouncy hair, creamy skin, long legs and decent, if not abundant, cleavage. The kind of girl that a fella could bring out to a night club on a Saturday night and impress the boys, but could still cook a pot roast to impress the boss at Sunday dinner.
Haley, as usual, was first to arrive; she was the most responsible and consistent of the Kittens. If it weren't for her cute figure and pretty face Blake thought she probably wouldn't even be performing; she didn't have that fire that he usually saw in singers. She had a nice little voice and she could fill out the ultra-sexy Kitten costumes, but she also had a nice fiance and came from a nice home and after this was all over Blake was pretty sure that she'd have a nice house in the suburbs with two cars and 2.5 children, and be perfectly happy about it.
"My goodness!" she said. "You'd think a girl could ride the IRT without getting pinched! Hello, Randy."
"Not when the girl looks like you, baby," Randy replied, hugging her, and Blake suddenly remembered why he steered clear of the studio. Not only was he no good at the fake showbiz bullshit chat, it made him feel queasy to hear it, and he had just eaten a salami and cream cheese on rye with extra potato salad on the side which he really didn't need to be tasting again.
Gina came in just behind her. She was a close friend of Blake's, one of the few connected to Syco who knew what kind of clubs he actually frequented and sometimes came along herself. Gina was a tough girl who balanced out Haley's nicey niceness. She had that fire, and Blake hoped she'd go far after the Kittens' run ended.
"So," she said, walking over to Chris as though no one else was in the room, "you're Chris. I'm Gina. I heard you wrote the lyrics to our new song."
Chris shook Gina's outstretched hand. "Yes, ma'am," Chris said. "But we both did the music and Blake has a good take on the vocal arrangement."
Gina kept hold of Chris, but turned to look at Blake, who stood off to the side. "Ain't he sweet? How can you stand it?"
"Gina," Blake warned, giving her his smallest scowl. He should never have told her about his stupid pointless crush.
"Call me Gina instead of ma'am," she said to Chris, "and we'll get along fine."
"I thought I was running late," Haley said. "Where's Kathy?"
"Being on time doesn't let you make an entrance," Gina said, sitting on a stool and lighting a cigarette. "And remember, she has a new name."
"Oh that's right," Haley said. "I keep forgetting. Kat."
"Someone say my name?" said the final Kitten as she walked through the door. Unlike the other girls, who were dressed comfortably in capri pants, ballet flats, and knit tops, their hair pulled into neat ponytails, Kat looked almost as though she were on stage. Her hair was loose and cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a slim a-line dress that had a low enough scoop to show off the shadow of her cleavage and a high enough hem to feature her long legs. "Oh dear, I'm not late, am I?"
"Not at all," Elliott said, jumping up to bring her in and close the door behind her, then steer her to his seat. "How could we start without you?"
Gina looked at Blake and rolled her eyes. Poor Elliott, he was so gone for this girl and she didn't seem to notice he was in the room half the time. Not that Kat was at all unkind, but she did like a new toy, and she didn't trust anyone who liked her singing as much or praised her as often as Elliott did. It was as though she'd got so used to Simon's bluntness that she didn't trust anything else. While Gina had a fire to perform, Kat had a killer instinct, and the ability to zero in on the most powerful person in the room. Sadly for Elliott, that was never him.
Sure enough, she turned to look at Chris. "You're new here," she said. "I'm Kat."
"I'm Chris. I'm writing with Blake."
Kat looked him up and down. "Well, pleased to meet you, I'm sure," she said, holding out her hand, which Chris shook gingerly, blushing.
Blake felt a sudden rush of jealousy, and then anger at himself. Chris didn't belong to him in any way, despite their going out at least once every weekend and for dinners several times during the week. Eventually, he'd find a nice girl and Blake would just have to get over himself. "Well, now that everyone is here, let's go work on these vocals. We've been thinking this song might suit Gina better to sing lead on, if that's okay, Kat."
"Of course," Kat said, not taking her eyes off Chris. "I don't need to sing lead all the time. Gina should have a turn."
Blake wondered if Kat was being so agreeable because she wanted to look good in front of Chris, but if that's what it took he was fine with it. "Great, let's go to the piano and get started."
"You're coming in too, aren't you, Chris?" Kat asked him.
"Of course," Chris said, moving forward, and Kat took his arm-which he hadn't exactly offered-and walked into the other room with him. Gina and Haley just snickered, and Blake would have too, in spite of his jealousy, but he couldn't help but notice Elliott was pushing the buttons to set the levels with a little more effort than was strictly necessary. Blake gave him a quick pat on the back, wishing he could tell Elliott just how much he empathized with his situation.
Despite personality quirks, the girls were nothing if not professional-indeed, no one lasted long at Syco who wasn't a hard worker-and after a few run-throughs at the piano Randy agreed with Chris and Blake that Gina should take the lead on the song, though he wanted to lay down a demo of Kat singing the lead to placate Simon, who favored the girl. Haley didn't take much time to lay down her simple harmonies, then Kat sang her tracks and went back into the booth to sit in a chair next to Chris. As Gina wasn't used to singing the lead, she was a bit nervous, so Haley went into the room to give her some moral support while Blake gently coached her from the booth. Randy put himself out of Gina's field of vision, not speaking but making occasional hand signals to Blake.
Good thing he was so busy, as Blake really didn't need to be watching Kat flirting with Chris. Not that he could blame her; Chris would be a catch for anyone but landing a songwriting boyfriend was a dream for any singer. During their dinner break, though, it was hard to ignore, and even if Chris didn't seem entirely willing, Kat was determined. She sat on a couch right next to him, helping herself to some of his fried rice while he told her how different the food was in Chinatown.
"Really?" Kat said, batting her eyelashes and all. "I'd love to try some of that real Chinese food but I just wouldn't know where to go."
"Well," Chris said, "maybe a group of us should go down there sometime."
"I'd like that," she replied.
"What is she doing?" whispered Haley, who sat on the other side of Gina from Blake. "Honey, if he wants to take out a group that means not you."
Blake shook his head. Chris certainly seemed happy enough to humor Kat, but firm on not asking her out, which surprised Blake. Well, perhaps he didn't like forward girls, being a southern gentleman and all.
Gina shook her head, then said rather loudly, cutting through the general din, "So Chris, I have a question about this song."
Chris looked up quickly. "Anything you need to know, Gina. You're the singer."
Gina cocked her head. "It's about Blake, isn't it?"
Chris coughed, as though he'd swallowed his tea wrong. "Well, um, you know, I hadn't thought about it, but it certainly could be," he stammered. "I was thinking about the kind of boy I'd wanted to be when I was in high school when I wrote it. But I did write it after I met Blake, so."
"Why would it be about Blake?" Kat asked, irritation giving an edge to her voice.
Gina cleared her throat, then sang the first verse:See the way he walks down the street
Watch the way he shuffles his feet
My, he holds his head up high
"Isn't that just how Blake walks around town?"
"I don't shuffle my feet," Blake protested, glaring at Gina.
Chris looked a bit pink, but then again, it was rather warm in the room with all of them and the Chinese food.
"You know, I think Gina's right," Haley said. "And the next part, too:"My baby's always the one
To try the things they've never done
"That's more like it," Blake said.
"He certainly is a rebel," Kat added, not wanting to be left out. "How sweet, Chris, that you wrote something for your new friend and you didn't even know it! And how clever to make it into a romance so we could sing it!"
"Well, that backfired," Haley muttered.
Kat had turned on the couch so she faced Chris, almost sitting in his lap. "You have some matches, don't you?" she asked, a cigarette in her hand. "I'm fresh out."
"Oh Kat, I wish you'd eat more," Haley said.
"You know how annoyed the seamstress is that she has to keep altering your costumes," Gina added.
"Here, Kat," Elliott said. "There's more eggrolls, and I know you like them."
"Oh, Elliott, stop fussing over me," Kat said, dismissing him. "I couldn't eat another bite and I want a cigarette now." She slipped her hand into Chris's jacket pocket, pulling out a box of matches. "What a pretty box," she said.
Chris's eyes went wide. "Yeah, um, here, I'll light it for you," he said, quickly pulling the box out of her fingers.
But it didn't matter what Chris did then to obscure the name on the box; Blake would recognize that dark purple and gold edging of the Wrong Wray Bar anyplace. His head was spinning. Handsome Chris in a trashy gay bar like that? It couldn't have been an accident; the Wrong Wray was one of those former speakeasies that were half in a basement with a secret back entrance so the clientele could get away in the case of a raid.
"You okay?" Gina whispered to him. "You've stopped breathing."
Blake blinked. Chris had lit Kat's cigarette and put the box away in an inner jacket pocket. But he wasn't watching her as she prattled on about costumes with Haley; instead, his eyes were lowered, as if he didn't dare look anyone in the eye. No, that matchbox was no accident. Now he could really share everything with his new friend. Sure, his crush had just become more pathetic and would be harder to hide, but having a real pal to run around with would be worth that. "I'm not just okay," Blake replied. "I'm fantastic."
"You are so weird," Gina said.
Randy declared dinner break over shortly after that and Gina went back to working on her vocal, Haley and Randy joining her in the other room. The instant Kat excused herself to "toddle off to the powder room" Blake wandered over to Chris's corner, kneeling on the chair Kat had been sitting on and putting his hand on Chris's shoulder.
"You know, Chris," he said, low enough that Elliott couldn't hear, "if you want to go out Saturday night, I can show you to much classier places than the Wrong Wray. Let me guess, you got the name from a navy buddy?" He rubbed his hand along the back of Chris's neck.
Chris had gone completely scarlet, and looked like he might start shaking. "Um, yeah, I did."
Blake shook his head. "You're too good for that dive. You rate a much better class of fag than that. Actually, I'd kinda enjoy showing you off."
Chris looked up at Blake. "Showing me off? You mean … "
"Yep." Leaning into Chris's ear, so close his mouth almost touched it, he sang, softly:We're a couple'a fags
To us, girls are such fun hags
But we prefer to neck with boys we see in the fashion mags.
Blake smiled, patting Chris on the shoulder, and then turned back to the work at hand, more energized than he'd felt all evening. "Okay, Gina," he said into the mike, "let's take it from the top. And if I can be any inspiration, you're welcome to sing it to me."
Gina replied with a rude gesture that got the whole crew laughing just as Kat returned to the room. "What happened? What did I miss?"
So much, Blake thought. So very, very much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Kittens sing "He's a Rebel"
Blake makes up his own lyrics to "We're a Couple'a Swells which Fred Astaire and Judy Garland sang in Easter Parade: http://youtube.com/watch?v=YU3robyaNAY
Chapter 4: You've Come a Long Way Baby. Includes music AND Ryan Seacrest!
Notes: There are lots of converted speakeasies in lower Manhattan; Chumley's is one of the best known. Yes, gay bars were still getting raided in 1962; more on that later.