We Wear The Mask (PASH-Russells/Chad)
by Chrissyn
 

WE WEAR THE MASK (Chad and The Russells) -Chap. 1
 

Chad, wearing only short sweat pants, was lifting weights. The muscles in his arms rippled with each repetition. A tap on the door interrupted his daily workout. He put down the weights, and went to the door.
"Hello, Chad," Priscilla cooed, seductively.
"What the hell," Chad said, astonished at the sight of the eye catching beauty standing before him.
"Surprised to see me," Priscilla chirped, brushing past Chad, and sashaying into the garage apartment.
She was slender, about 5'7, with unblemished skin the color of just brewed coffee, and a small nose, small lips, and shoulder length straight hair.
Her looks were always described as exotic--a combination of ebony skin and European features. There were catty women who suggested her long, thick hair came out of a bag, but Priscilla knew God gave it to her.
Chad shut the door. "Well, I am a lil surprised to see you," he said, "to put it mildly." Frowning, he asked, "How did you know where to find me?"
"Quincy," she explained. "The record producer friend of yours. I asked him where you were, and he said you had gone to Maine." When she said, Maine, her facial expression looked as though cod liver oil was on her tongue. "To a little town called Harmony. Sounds like something out of a Stephen King novel." She chuckled. "This isn't the place for a musician."
"Well, I'm on a mission here," Chad said.
"Yeah, searching for your mom and pop."
He nodded. "Quincy mentioned that too, eh?"
"Quince has a big mouth," Priscilla said. "I don't know why you care to find them--your parents, I mean. Evidently, they didn't give a damn about you...Putting you on the curb like a bag of garbage, the way they did."
"Cilla, you really are a lollipop, you know that," Chad said. "You have such an endearing way of saying things...Well, I want to know why I was put on the curb, as you say. I doubt if I'm going to end up buddy-buddy with my folks, but at least, I'll know where I came from."
She raked her eyes over his muscled body, acting like a spectator at a male strip show. "Well, who ever sired and gave birth to you are a couple of lookers. You are one fine male specimen."
Chad blushed. "Cilla, why are you here?"
"Cuz I missed ya," she said, and fluttered her eyelashes.
"You missed me?" The incredulity in his tone was palpable.
"Yes," she chirped. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
"I left L.A. over a year ago." He shrugged. "And after all this time, you decide to look me up because you missed me?" He didn't believe her.
"I tried to get over you," she said smoothly. "I couldn't believe the way you just picked up and left, not bothering to tell me, you were leaving."
"You and I weren't exactly on good terms when I said arrivederci to L.A."
"Oh, been studying Italian since I last saw you," she joked. She scrutinized Chad for a moment. And sauntered to him, and gently ran a lavender talon across his lips; the slight pressure made them part just a bit. "I've missed you, Chad," she cooed. And thrust out her chest. "I've missed you so much."
Priscilla still had that affect on him. Since coming to Harmony, he hadn't been with anybody. All he had was his erotic thoughts and his hand. But despite how h----, he was. No friggin' way would he get mixed up with Cilla. He remembered the things she got into; the way she misrepresented things. Out and out lied.
Chuckling sheepishly, he backed away. "You and I are like the last page of a book. The story's over."
"You never really told me why you dumped me," Priscilla said.
"For starters, you tell more lies than a novelist. And I don't play that. And some of the stuff you're into. I definitely don't play that."
"Chad, I tried to explain to you, I'm not bisexual."
"I know what I saw...what I walked in on. You and that Spice Girl wannabe on the Murphy bed...all over each other...And it didn't look like you were into female wrestling." He paused. "Look, I ain't got nothin' against gays. People have a right to do what they want...But that ain't for me."
"And it isn't for me, either." Her tone was emphatic.
"That's how it looked to me."
"Chad, as I explained over a year ago, I had heard that Bibi swung both ways, and --"
He laughed. "What are you going to say? She seduced you?" He rolled his eyes. "Men have hit on me, and I tell them, I don't go there."
"Bibi didn't seduce me. I was with her voluntarily. I wondered what being with a woman would be like, so I propositioned Bibi...And we invited you to join us in the fun, but you stormed out of the room. We were offering you every man's fantasy."
"Being in a menage a trois ain't this brotha's fantasy...And I'm not too sure I believe you were just experimenting that night. I had heard you were AC/DC, but I didn't believe it because you didn't fit my image--"
"Of a lessie," she finished.
He nodded.
"Well, I repeat, I'm not bi," she said.
He made a face. Shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You can swing in whatever direction the wind blows you. And speaking of bye, I'm getting tired and I'd like to take a shower, and hit the sack." He pointed to the door.
"I'd like to join you," Priscilla teased.
"Priscilla, good bye," Chad said.
"Chad, I need a place to stay."
He knew what she was about to ask. "And what's that got to do with me?"
"I was kinda hoping I could stay here," she said.
"Sorry. No vacancies," Chad retorted.
"Chad, I have no place to go," Priscilla said. Her tone was desperate, and emphatic. "My cash needle is damn near on E. I have like twelve dollars and some coins in my purse. As you can see, I have no luggage. All my stuff perished in a fire in L.A." She paused. "And I found out who my friends were. Nobody would take me in."
"Sounds like the attitude of that bunch of losers you ran around with."
"I need help, Chad. And I figured you could give me a hand."
"I ain't the Red Cross."
"Don't be like this," she pleaded. "Cut me some slack."
"Look, this ain't my place," he said. "I'm renting it from the Russells. They own the house."
"Well, couldn't you hide me?" she asked. "They don't have to know I'm living here. I'll be as quiet as a corpse. Bad joke," she said."
He shook his head. "You ain't going to live here. Look, you can go to the Youth Center, and ask for a place to stay. They can hook you up," he said.
"Well, it's late. Can I at least stay here tonight?"
He held up a index finger. "One night," he said. His tone was resolute. "And then you're out of here."
The action shifted to the Hide Away Lounge. Freddy, a thirtysomething black man, was in the office, behind his desk, counting the night's receipts.
Suddenly, two black men stormed into the room, breaking down the door, terrifying poor Freddy. "Juice," Freddy spluttered to the one of the men.
"Freddy, my man," Juice caroled. His tone and smile were sinister.
"Juice, what's up?" Freddy said nervously. "Why you break the door down like that?"
"Where is she, Fred?"
"W-Who. Where's who?" Freddy stammered.
"You know who I'm talking about," Juice snarled. "That little bitch you have a hard spot for. Cilla. Where is she?"
Freddy swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't know, Juice. I swear I don't."
"She was working here," Juice said. "Singing and waitressing."
"But she quit," Freddy said. "Up and left with no notice."
"Yeah, but the two of you were tight. I figured she told you her whereabouts. You know, who to contact in case of emergency kind of thing." Juice said.
He shook his head. "She didn't say nothing."
"Not a word," Juice asked, studying Freddy's face to see if he was lying.
"Nothing," Freddy said.
"If I find out you're lying to me, I'll have Boo Boo here," Juice said, indicating the other man. "Do a little cosmetic surgery on that average loooking face of yours."
"I ain't lying, Juice. I swear on the lawn of a church," Freddy said.
"I believe you. Cilla's a bright bulb. She wouldn't have left here, telling anybody where she could be found. But I had to do a just in case," Juice said. "Sorry about your door. Cilla has something that belongs to me. And I want it back. I'll track her down, if it's the last thing I do."