Vice, Virtue & Video: Revealed (The Vice, Virtue & Video Series) Read online

  “You had no problem letting a sixteen-year-old fuck some housewives as long as it helped the business,” I yell. “And now you have a problem with your twenty-year-old adult son fucking other consenting adults on camera?”

  Dad swallows hard and closes his eyes for a minute. He looks like he’s going to explode like something out of Scanners.

  “You listen to me,” he says in a gravely whisper, “I want you out of this house. I want you gone, and I don’t ever want you to come back.”

  “Jon, please!” Mom sobs.

  “You get your shit, and you get the fuck out,” he says. “As far as we’re concerned, our youngest son is dead.”

  His words hurt me emotionally, but now it’s like they’re causing me real, physical pain. It feels like someone stabbed a knife in my heart and I’m going to die.

  “Jon,” Mom says in her calmest voice, “why don’t you go cool off in the other room.”

  “You have five fucking minutes!” Dad growls. “If your shit is not out of this house in five fucking minutes, I’ll put you out myself.”

  My dad walks out of the room, leaving me with my weepy mother. I start crying really hard now, and I reach out to hug her. I’m so happy when she hugs me back, and I wish I could just make all this go away.

  “Sweetheart—” she sniffles “—that stuff you said, about the women and the landscaping, that wasn’t true, right? You were just saying those things, weren’t you?”

  I can’t lie to her, not now. I know this is going to kill her, but I have to shake my head.

  “God, no!” she sobs. “Why, baby? Why did you do that?”

  “They liked me and they came onto me,” I struggle to explain. “I don’t know, Mom. I was a teenager and I was horny and they were hot and…I don’t know.”

  She holds my face in her hands and looks at me like she wishes she could make all of this magically disappear. I hate seeing her like this, hate letting her down and making her sad.

  “Did they make you do those things? Did Karen or any of the others coerce you or force you?” she says, referencing the aforementioned Mrs. Landry.

  “No, Mom.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t like that. I wanted to, we both did, and they liked it so much that we started doing it on the regular. But Dad got a bunch of repeat customers from it, and he was making money, and I was having fun, so it wasn’t hurting anybody. I just…I liked it.”

  “Oh, God, baby!” she cries. “My special boy, my little sweetheart,” she says like I’ve transformed from that into some monster. “How could you do this? How could you let those women use you? How could you let yourself get exploited on the Internet that way?”

  “It’s not exploitation, Mom,” I say softly, trying to calm her down. “It’s just a job. It’s something I’m good at and I like it. It pays really good and it’s fun.”

  She wails and grabs onto me like she’s trying to pull the old James out.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I whisper as I hold onto her. “I’m so sorry to make you feel like this. I’m so sorry that this hurts you.”

  “My baby boy,” she cries into my shoulder.

  “I never, never wanted to hurt you or Dad. I used a different name. I did stuff for smaller production companies because I figured it wouldn’t get out that much. I mean, millions of porn movies are shot every year. What are the odds anyone from home would see one of mine?”

  “Oh, James,” she weeps, holding my face in her hands again. “You were so special, sweetheart. You’re such a good boy, and you could have done so much. Why did you let yourself get dragged into all this? You could have been anything, sweetheart. You didn’t have to be this.”

  I hardly ever feel guilty about what I do, but I feel absolutely awful right now. I can’t explain to her that I really like what I do and that I’m becoming a real rising star in the business. My success will only make things worse. I just feel an overwhelming sense of anguish.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom,” I say to her, my voice a tight whisper as I try to hold back the flood of emotion pressing against my throat. “I’m just so sorry. This is the last thing I wanted, to make you cry like this. I just…I’m so, so sorry.”

  “My beautiful boy,” she says tearfully. “You were always my beautiful boy. When you were born and the doctor handed you to me, I thought you were a little angel from heaven.”

  I start crying now. I can’t hold it back anymore. She’s taking it from way back, and I know the story ends with her being utterly disappointed in who I’ve become.

  “Where has that little angel gone, James?” She sniffles. “Why, baby? I just can’t believe you’d do something like this.”

  I totally break down. I lean forward and bury my face in her shoulder and weep like a fuckin’ baby. It’s one of those hard cries where you feel like your whole body is broken. I need my mom. I need her to not feel so disappointed and sad.

  “All right, time’s up!” Dad’s voice says from the hallway. He doesn’t look pleased to see my mom comforting me.

  “Dad, I’m so sorry. Please, just let’s talk about it,” I beg.

  “No more talking, James,” he cuts me off. “Get your shit and get out of this house immediately.”

  Mom gives me this heartfelt look, and I get the distinct feeling she’s saying goodbye. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to walk away from her because I’m really starting to feel like this might be the last time I see her, at least for a long while.

  Dad watches me like a warden as I go into my room and pack up my suitcase. I’m crying the whole time, but he’s all stone-faced, and I know he doesn’t care. He’s fuming. Totally livid. The truth is, I hate myself way more than he hates me right now. My decisions made my mom cry, and there’s nothing worse in the whole world than making your mom cry.

  Dad doesn’t even walk me to the door, just points to it and gives me this stern look that tells me I better hurry up and get the fuck out before he snaps. I’ve never been scared of my dad. He was never the kind of guy to hit us or be really abusive to us, but his fuse is beyond lit right now and it’s probably best if I go before he goes totally nuclear.

  I try to swallow my tears as Mom steps over to me and gives me one last hug.

  “Mom, you gotta believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you guys. I’m so, so sorry,” I say through my sniffling.

  “I know, honey,” she whispers to me. It gives me a little shred of hope, but it’s a tiny one.

  “Out!” Dad yells, interrupting the moment.

  I step out onto the porch, and I take a deep breath. What do I do now? Where do I go? I’m so shaken up that I’m actually worried about driving home, but I have nowhere to go.

  I turn my head and look at Lola’s house, thinking about how happy I felt when I woke up with her this morning. I get this sudden urge to see her. It’s like I’m actually aching to look in her eyes and be close to her. I need her right now so bad.

  I sniffle and wipe my tears off my cheeks as I walk across the lawn to her door.

  Chapter 8

  Lola

  MY MOM IS AWAKE and none the wiser that James slept over last night. We’re both tired but in the mood for some breakfast, so we decide to make waffles. We’re sitting at the table, chatting about Zoe’s personally designed prom dress, when the doorbell rings.

  I set my orange juice down and make my way to the door to answer. My jaw drops when I see James standing there with his suitcase, completely, fully, intensely sobbing. I whip open the door and pull him inside, throwing my arms around him.

  My mom hears the commotion, and comes into the front room to see what’s wrong.

  “They found out,” James snivels into my shoulder. “They found out, and they kicked me out.”

  “Oh, James,” I whisper, holding him tighter. “I’m so sorry! It’s gonna be okay.” I rub his back to soothe him. “It’s all right, babe. It’ll be okay.”

  “My dad…he was so harsh,” he cries.

  “What happened, sweetheart?” my
mom asks, stepping over to pat his back while I hug him tightly.

  “My parents—” He sniffles. “They kicked me out of the house.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t mean it,” she says soothingly.

  “They did mean it,” he sobs. “My dad said I was dead to him.”

  “Well, jeez, sweetie, what happened?” she asks with her brow furrowed like she can’t fathom what would make a parent take such drastic action.

  “They found out about my movies.” He sniffles. “They found out that…that I was…doing porn.”

  My mom’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” she whispers.

  James cries harder and leans far down as he buries his head in my shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” my mom says as she gives him a comforting side-hug. “They’re upset now and they’re going to be angry for a little while, but they’ll get over it, honey. It’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I didn’t know where to go. I’m sorry I just showed up on your doorstep like this.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I interject. “You know that I will always be here for you. Always, James. You are my best friend in the world, and I will have your back through anything. I promise you that.”

  My mom gives me a look that says she’s impressed with me. There’s really nothing to be impressed about. It’s the truth. I’ll be by his side through thick and thin.

  James is shaking, and I’m worried that he’ll have a panic attack. I take his head in my hands and hold his face so he looks at me.

  “Breathe, okay?” I whisper. “Breathe with me, James.”

  I take a few deep breaths, and he follows my lead. He closes his eyes and tries to get his shit together. After a few moments, he’s breathing somewhat normally again.

  “Come on, honey, let’s get out of the doorway. Come on inside and sit down,” my mom sweetly offers, ushering him inside.

  He takes a seat on the couch, and I hand him a box of Kleenex from the end table. My mom sits in the chair catty-corner to the sofa, and she gives him an Oprah-style sympathetic look. I put my arm around him and rub his back and stroke his hair to help calm him down. I’ve never seen him so upset, and it rips my heart to shreds to see him hurting like this.

  “Okay,” my mom says calmly, “what happened? Let’s start at the beginning…with the, uh, movies.”

  “Okay,” he says and nods. “When I moved out to LA, I had a hard time finding work. I did some commercials, I modeled for a couple of romance novel covers, but I was still pretty broke.”

  My mom listens, and I hold James’s hand, knowing how hard it is for him to reveal this to someone’s mother.

  “This girl I was hanging out with at the time said I should go down to the Valley with her because she knew how I could make tons of money, so I decided to give it a shot. It started out like those cheesy late-night movies, but then I started doing…you know, the real thing,” James timidly explains.

  A tiny, cringing micro-expression comes across my mom’s face, but it disappears quickly as she continues listening to James.

  “I did my first one and I really dug it. It was really fun, I started making a lot of money, and nobody back home had any idea what I was doing, so everything was awesome,” he says. “A couple of my old friends found out, and I guess they told some people who told some other people, and eventually it got around to my parents.”

  Fucking Keegan! I know this has something to do with him or Joey Dipshit Corsentino! They’re way too proud of having a friend who’s a porn star, and they haven’t kept their damn mouths shut about it since they found out. Joey’s been using it to pick up chicks by lying that he’s done a couple movies too. What a load of shit! Those two have been living vicariously through James for years, and now their boasting has gotten James into real trouble.

  “They won’t even let me try to explain.” He looks at my mom with sad, broken eyes. “My dad just threw me out and wouldn’t let me say anything. He got so mad. I tried to call him on how he’s being a hypocrite, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “You told him about the landscaping stuff?” I gasp, knowing immediately what big guns James brought out against his dad.

  “I had to,” James says to me. “He was so pissed about it that I had to call him out on all that stuff. He didn’t seem to have a problem with me having sex with those women, so why was he flipping his shit now—sorry, Theresa.” He smiles shyly to my mom after cursing.

  “I’m sorry, what is ‘the landscaping stuff’?” she replies cautiously.

  “When I was younger and me and Jonathan used to help my dad on jobs, the housewives would flirt with me, and sometimes I’d sleep with them,” James confesses. “But it used to benefit my dad because they’d call us back a bunch of times, and they’d used Laird Landscaping year after year because they liked me.”

  My mom’s trying her best not to completely freak out as she murmurs, “My God, when was this, sweetie?”

  “It started when I was about sixteen,” he admits with shame. “You know Mrs. Landry? She was the first one to, like, actually do something with me. The other women just mostly flirted with me, but Mrs. Landry, she…she wanted more than that.”

  “And you were only sixteen?” my mom replies, a pained expression on her face. “That woman took advantage of a sixteen-year-old boy?”

  “It wasn’t her fault. She just wanted me, and I liked that some hot, horny, older chick was coming on to me,” he tries to defend it.

  “It was her fault, James,” my mom says, grabbing his hand. “She was a grown woman—hell, she’s my age—and she was taking advantage of you. If your father knew about that, if he even had a shred of suspicion, and he didn’t say anything, he’s the real asshole here.”

  I’ve been telling James this for years. I was never that freaked out when he hooked up with girls at our school, even if they were a couple grades older than him, but it really freaked me out when he started screwing those housewives. Mrs. Landry was pretty, in that cougar kind of way, but it was really fucked up for a woman in her mid-forties to be screwing a teenager. I think hearing it from my mom has made it sink in more because James looks like he’s questioning the decision for the first time.

  “Give your parents some time,” she says softly. “I think when they calm down, they’ll realize that you didn’t mean any harm by—”

  She’s interrupted when the doorbell rings. The three of us get up to answer it. It’s Jonathan, and he’s got two big taped-up boxes in his arms. He sets them down on the porch and gives us all a grim look.

  “Dad wanted me to give you your stuff,” he says to James. “They don’t want it in the house anymore, and Mom told Dad not to throw it away. Dad doesn’t want you back at the house, so they called me and made me bring it.”

  It’s almost like I can hear James’s heart shattering as he realizes the severity of his parents’ rejection.

  “Jonathan, please,” James says, his voice strained with anguish, “please just tell them I’m sorry. Tell them I wasn’t trying to embarrass them or disappoint them.”

  “I’ll tell them,” he says, shrugging, “but they’re not hearing it, bro. Dad’s really pissed, and I think they’re done for good.”

  James cries, and to my surprise, Jonathan reaches out and gives him a hug. This act of compassion is sweet and unexpected, even though it’s also a little awkward.

  “Do you think they’ll talk to me? Can I just explain it to them?” James pleads.

  “I wouldn’t talk to them, at least for now,” he replies. “Mom’s really upset, but Dad…he’s past where I’ve ever seen him before. Give him a couple days to stop going nuclear about this and maybe he’ll listen.”

  “Okay.” James nods. “Thanks, Jonathan.”

  “All right,” Jonathan says, “Good luck, buddy.” He looks to my mom, then to me, and gives us a subtle smile. “Lola, Theresa,” he says as he bids us farewell.

  With that, he walk
s back across the lawn to the Laird house. This is really, really bad. If they called Jonathan to come over from his apartment just to deliver boxes to James, then they really have abjured him. They won’t even talk to him. It seems so cruel to me.

  “Honey,” my mom says softly, putting her hand on James’s shoulder and turning him around, “why don’t you stay here tonight and try to go over there tomorrow and see if you can talk to them.”

  “Really?” he says with the smile of a shelter dog that’s just been adopted.

  “Really.” She smiles back and nods. “Give them a little time to calm down and then maybe they’ll listen. You can stay here—in the guest bedroom.”

  I crack a smile, knowing what she’s implying. It was one thing when he occasionally crashed in my room before, but now that she knows he’s a porn star, I’m guessing she’s revising the rules.

  “Oh, Theresa!” he says, getting a little choked up. “You have no idea how much this means to me!”

  She reaches out and hugs him. “It’s gonna be okay, honey,” she says as she pats his back. “This has gotta be a very big deal for them, but you’re their son and they still love you, even if they’re angry with you right now.”

  He sniffles, and she rubs his back a few times before we all venture back into the kitchen. He cries some more as my mom fixes him some waffles, but I think he starts feeling numb after a while. James is always fun and outgoing, energetic and humorous. He’s always got a smile on his face, but that bright light inside him has dimmed to a flicker. It hurts my heart to see him all broken like this.

  He spends the next several hours lying on the couch on his side with his head in my lap while I stroke his hair and try to comfort him. At least he’s stopped crying. Now he’s just silent with the occasional sniffle.

  “It’s okay,” I keep whispering to him. “It’ll be all right.”

  He puts his arm across my knees and holds onto me like I’m the last lifejacket on the Titanic. I lean down and put my arm around his shoulder, letting my long hair fall over us like a tent. He takes a couple deep breaths, and I whisper softly to him that everything will be okay and that I’ll always be here for him. It seems to reassure him a little bit, and he pulls himself together.