Sing to Me-- (Boy X Boy)

I guess there was always a chance

His eyes darted to me and then darted away. "You can't tell anyone." His voice wavered in a way that never made it into his recordings, "I shouldn't even tell you."

"Then don't, I think I know."

He was stiff in his seat.

"You would be the one who could guess."

The car stopped and I looked at him. The way he sat, the bodyguards, the lack of love in his voice, it all meant one thing.

"Something happened with your father, didn't it?"

He didn't look at me as h gently nodded.

"I thought he was in prison"

We were at my house, I could see a single light on inside.

"He was, yes."

"He escaped?"

He shushed me and then lowered his eyes. I looked at him for a long while. This was something the media would want to latch onto. It was something he would keep hidden from his fans. I leaned toward him and wrapped my arms around his back. He jolted slightly. My eyes were glued shut as I hugged him but I didn't know what else to do to make him feel better. Then I felt the soft touch of a big hand on my back.

"I want you, I need you, I love you." I said softly, "even if your father doesn't."

Dakota rested his head on my shoulder. "You honestly care about me that much?"

"Yep." I gave him a soft squeeze.

"Then I have a favor to ask you."

***

That night on the way to his house, Dakota's limo was shot at. It crashed into a tree after the first few bullets had streamed through the back window. The media barely had time to capitalize on his fathers escape from prison before the rumors of the shot up limo started spreading. No information was released about Dakota's location or condition because he was standing in the foyer of my house and my dad and mom were staring at him.

"You bastard! He can't stay here." My father yelled and broke a bottle on the ground.

"I'm just taking him to my room," I said softly.

Dakota stood a few steps behind me beside the door.

"Well, we can't have you keep the whole family up all night," My mom said from the kitchen.

I blushed. "Mom, we aren't going to do those things, he's straight. Besides, don't you recognize him? He's the pop singer I'm always talking about."

"A load of crap. That isn't a real job. Kick him to the curb, the whole lot of them should burn in hell."

Dakota looked up in stunned silence. I let out a breath of air.

"I'm sure someone on Dakota's team would love to give us a thank you gift of cash for protecting him." I looked at my sister down the hall and her eyes lit up.

Dakota nodded. "And your son just signed a contract with my company so he can get money from all the songs he wrote."

My father groaned and wandered off, yelling something about STDs as he left. I pulled him down the hall by his hand and slammed the door shut. He glanced around my room and immediately went to touch my stacks of paper. My hand intercepted his before I could even think of something to say.

"They aren't good." I sputtered.

He laughed and turned away. "Artists are the worst critics of their work."