*

So close to being able to release our little song! We're both looking forward to it so much. I stayed for an extra day with Kyle at his house-- he asked me to, and I didn't have any work for the band to do, of course, so how could I refuse something like that?-- and he took me out on his ~yacht~. How decadent! Seeing him work everything was so hot, too... open shirt whipping in the wind, muscles working, a cute focused look on his face... ugh, I could've climbed up there just to kiss him. Once we were out in the open ocean we had some lunch and talked some (had to sort of shout at times, but I didn't mind, and it's not like anyone else was around to hear). He comes from a small town, too, but he's from Canada, originally (wasn't fully sure where to place his accent before!)-- the province of Alberta; long brutal winters, surrounded either by farmland, oil fields, or coal mines. Snow either way. He didn't want to be a farmer, a miner, or an oil man, and he was sick and tired of the snow, so south to California he went.

He didn't realize he could be attracted to men 'til quite a bit later, so he had a luckier go at his isolated childhood than I did. And I wouldn't be his first, but it's still fairly new for him; he loves going with guys that know what they're doing and he said I'm the most confident of them all by far when it comes to sex-- he smiled, stroked my face, rested his hand against my neck before he said the rest-- "I hope you can be a little more confident about the rest, though, now." I told him that I was trying, at least. "That's all we can do!", he said, with a little kiss.

We saved the real steamy stuff for his house again, though (and he smelled wonderful of course-- clean sweat and sea air… two different kinds of saltiness on his skin alongside the usual herbal smell that I think comes from what he washes his hair with-- thankfully, and interestingly, similar enough to what Shann uses). UGH the way he moaned when I rimmed him (stupid, I know, but I washed myself up quite well after, and I just wanted to make him feel as good as I could... and, well, yes, I did want my face in his ass)... and how badly I wanted to fuck him, how badly he wanted me to fuck him, and how hard I was able to do so after all that, ramping it up nice and steady, asking him each time if he wanted more and the "yes"s I got getting less and less shy, the beautiful way he came and how fucking good he felt around me when he did, pulling out taking my condom off and cumming all over his back, kissing it off him; us laying next to each other, him kissing me all over and making such sweet sounds, me holding him, feeling such a damn rush from it all still, and from the growing realization I've had that I can make men want me in ways beyond just making them want to fuck me, that I can be convincing like *this*, too. Or at least, I can make Kyle want me that way, which is good enough for now. There's just SO much that's been nice about this, even if it didn't go the way I expected it to at all.

And then going home to Shann, still in such a good mood from it all that having to fuck her didn't even bring me down that much. I just thought of Kyle, of the fact that I had him just hours before and would have him again soon enough, and I could bring her to such a similar place (and I can imagine her hair as Kyle's, breathe it in and smell his, and that's how I cum). Probably hard to think of how "weird" I am when I can do you that big of a favor, too. ...I hate how good it feels that she can't touch me even when she technically does touch me.

*

I hope just the one song Kyle and I put out does better than the entire album Nate's doing with some Swedish troll-looking keyboard guy. Like, it's not that I fault him for wanting to work with a different keyboard player... it's the way he went about it. I mean, we could've chosen a keyboard player together. Right? We were both writing the fucking song, I under the assumption that it was for the band anyway, but I wouldn't have minded doing something just for us [47]. I know even doing that one song lead to what it lead to, but... ugh, I can't think about it, now. It doesn't make a difference. What happened is what happened.

Which is why I hope Kyle and I blow him out of the water, and part of me (What Benny must call my "bratty princess" side...) hopes he sees it, hears how good we sound together, how much... chemistry... we have, and I hope it pisses him the fuck off. He can't give me what Kyle can anyway. For quite a few reasons (one of the least among them being that from the way he handled me in the kitchen, he'd be a rough fuck, and I'm VERY sure he's not actually that skilled at being a rough fuck with men, and I am VERY much done with being a rough fuck for guys who are bored of their girlfriends). So we both might as well get used to that fact, and I ACTUALLY am. Whether he does remains to be seen.

PS: Shann doesn't like how often I'm away because of this but she does like Kyle a fair bit more than she likes Nate, from what she's seen of him. And he has come over once, now, and it miraculously wasn't too awkward. Not surprising she'd like him, though-- I mean, I do, too, and probably for some similar reasons. He really does just seem sincerely kind.

*

Jesus fucking christ I'm so fucked FUCK. G-d, and Kyle too maybe and that's even worse because it’s all my fucking fault. Nobody can ever just leave us the fuck alone, of course not, no, fame means having to be okay with strangers obsessing over you and following you down streets and into bars and out again just so they can sneak a fucking picture of you, or better yet, a picture of you and someone else kissing in a place you thought was private, was safe. As soon as I saw the flash go off-- her only mistake in sneaking into his fucking garage-- I sprinted after her and thank G-d I'm a runner, caught up with her in seconds flat, grabbed her camera and yanked it from her hands, popped the film canister out while she was begging for it back, and I told her she was fucking lucky I didn't smash the thing into bits. She cried about how she was better for me than anyone and various other crazy person things, to give her a chance and she'd throw the whole thing away just ~pleeease~ give her the film back. I told her that it belongs to my lawyer now (I don't even have a personal lawyer yet, how the hell do I even know what to look for, I kept fucking putting it off and now this happens) and I spooked her enough to get her name and address so I can at least file a restraining order or something. Ugh I HATE having to do anything with cops.

But yes, she got her stupid camera back and ran, and Kyle trotted up to me; I was shaking so bad at that point, he lead me back to his house and I couldn't help but have a panic attack in his arms. I told him how sorry I was, how fucking stupid I was to have ever put him in harm's way like this just so I could have a good time, how fucking selfish I was, and he kept rubbing my back, holding my hands when I couldn't stop them from scraping my shoulders, told me none of this was my fault, that I did as much as I could in the moment, that he couldn't believe how fast I could run, that I was brave to even confront her, and his voice was so sweet but I couldn't hear it and I still can't believe it. I did what I HAD to do. Just because I had better reflexes than Kyle in that moment didn't mean I was any more brave. Christ I probably ruined his fucking career. G-d, I probably ruined his LIFE. Mine AND his. Nowhere is fucking safe anymore and I have no idea what to do about it and who knows if it'll even matter anymore, this could just be IT, the fucking end of everything, and I still have to take care of my mother and pay for her treatments and I might've just ruined that too, jesus fucking christ I hate myself, I can never do anything right, I always fuck everything up, everything I want just ruins me and everyone else, fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

--This situation is absolutely ridiculous, by the way. Absurd on so many levels. It's like a bad joke made at my and his expense and I'm not fucking laughing

*

Begged Walt nearly on my hands and knees to help me get a lawyer, for ANYTHING, no matter how unscrupulous, I didn't give a damn anymore. He did agree to help me thank G-d but not after giving me a smug, sneering earful and really making me grovel. I can tell he gets a kick out of all this, ugh. "This is why it's safer for you to stay here and not go off doing your own shit, Jules. You don't know what the hell to do with yourself, do you? You're just an overgrown teenage brat going on joyrides with your boyfriends in daddy's car.", he said. --If I'm an overgrown teenage brat, what the hell does that make Nate? I didn't say that, of course. "You're g-ddamn lucky you have me and that you did what I told you to do with that girl-- Sherry? Sharon?-- or you would've been outed a long time ago and no other band or label would ever THINK of touching you. You'd be persona non grata in seconds flat. You know that. Right?"

I tried to just nod but he wouldn't take that, had to hear a vocal response, had to hear me say "Yes" and if I didn't know any better I'd say he expected a "sir" at the end of that, too, but fuck him. It's his favorite way of toying with me when he has the upper hand, how he likes to make me squirm-- a twisting of something that would otherwise be erotic into an impersonal, sadistic sliminess. I fucking wish I knew how to make HIM squirm better. The nose ring was one of my big triumphs that way and that was already three years ago, now, and in retrospect it was very "teenage brat". Winning with Benny would be huge, but that wouldn't make him squirm as much as... well, I don't even know. I might have to brace for impact.

...In a strange way, I'm almost thankful all this happened now and not when I went to the parade. That I was able, for a brief moment, to feel the free-est I'd ever been since joining the band, to be around MY people, some of them my dearest friends, just one in a huge crowd for once, a crowd of *us*, to celebrate all of us and all of how we are and to not have any of that memory tainted with shame, with terror. I have no idea if I'll ever be able to experience that ever again, so having a snapshot of a perfect moment of that experience is relieving. Poor Kyle-- as relieved as I am that CSW wasn't ruined for me, I still feel terrible about hurting him. He said not to worry, but I'm sure he's just being nice, because that's all he knows how to be. I truly, truly hope he'll be okay. G-d I shouldn't have even done all that with him to begin with. I really am fucking selfish. It was so impulsive of me, really; so much was going so badly and here was a chance of something that could feel nice on multiple levels (and some of those levels were definitely novel!). But UGHHHH it was stupid.

*

[47]And now that I think about it, one of the problems with Jeffrey is that I had no say in it whatsoever. I had a say in Sam's hiring-- quite a bit, in fact. Along with the rest of the guys. Jeffrey was a Walter and possibly Greg (if I believe him) decision. Interesting. And again, I'm left wondering what Nathan sees in Walt. Fatherly love can only go so far. I mean, I don't talk to my father anymore (then again, he did make that choice for me in the beginning). And Walt's not even his actual father. Speaking of which, Nate's father must be a piece of work as well, considering.