I have started another story and would greatly appreciate if you could post it at your earliest convenience. Thank you for your time and efforts, they're greatly appreciated!!
Jason
The following story is purely fiction. I have no knowledge of any person's sexual orientation except my own and make no claim otherwise, whatsoever. If you're not old enough to be reading this for WHATEVER reason, please leave now. If you are plenty old enough, please continue on and let me know what you think of my second submission to the Nifty Archives.
As I'm sure you've seen many other Nifty authors say, if you'd like to continue seeing our creations, please donate to them if and when you can.
Being Dylan O'Brien's Assistant
Chapter 1
I had been in Hollywood for a little over a year. I am a 32 year old, below average looking, chubby, white guy. I had a small apartment that was perfect for me since I was out of town a lot, travelling for work. As far as work went, I was technically a personal assistant (PA). But my position was a little unorthodox. I was a temporary personal assistant and I didn't work for an agency. I was an independent contractor that took my client's privacy very seriously and had a reputation, purely via word of mouth, at being "the best". My clients consisted primarily of celebrities but there were several high level business executives that called on me as well.
I am a fast learner and have a photographic memory. This made my chosen career fairly easy. I'd generally get called several days in advance by a client's PA. They'd tell me why they needed me, then, if I accepted the job, they would send their notes to me and I'd study them before the job started. Normal PAs usually take extensive notes so that they can find exactly what their client needed or liked in any circumstance. This aspect of my colleagues lives/jobs made mine all that much easier. I could read through their notes in a night and would be able to anticipate my new client's needs. That attribute really helped with the free word of mouth advertising I got.
There were several of my clients that had asked me numerous times to come and work for them permanently, but I always refused. I couldn't give up the variety I got with my current path. Clients usually came to me repeatedly, and that was fine with me because there usually wasn't much that had changed between the new assignment and the previous one I had done for them. Another thing that helped me was the fact that I could blend into most crowds fairly easily. I wasn't what the Hollywood Elite called attractive. I was average height, balding slightly and heavyset. This was something most of my clients liked because that meant I wouldn't be trying to steal their limelight by being hyper attractive like so many PAs were beginning to become. They sometimes saw their jobs as the proverbial "foot in the door". As you can imagine, this could get tiresome for a lot of people.
Many of my clients didn't know that I also had a concealed handgun permit in every state in the US and several countries. I was also on the very short list of US Citizens that could carry a firearm in airports and on airplanes. I have certifications from several civilian organizations and several from Federally recognized organizations. I kept this aspect of my life very guarded and had never had to use force before. Only some minor hand to hand self defense. I very rarely told anyone that I could and would also act as a bodyguard, but it was in the fine print of the contracts I used with all of my clients. Only a couple of my clients' lawyers ever asked about that little tidbit. I am always honest about my intentions.
Oh, I should also mention that I'm happily and openly gay. This fact got me a lot of female clientele. They liked the fact that I wouldn't hit on them. Some of my straight male clients kind of had a problem with my being gay, but rarely mentioned it. I never hit on my clients. I had always drawn a very strict line between work and pleasure. I worked with a lot of hot men. Most straight. Their sexuality never really had any impact on my job. So it never came up.
I was standing near the side, out of the lights and nearly invisible, of the large banquet hall of a very nice hotel in New York City. I was on my most recent assignment and didn't have anything lined up for the next two months. I knew there was always the possibility of a last minute job coming my way, so I tried to keep my schedule open as much as possible. I was checking my client's schedule on my mobile device when someone bumped into my back with enough force to knock it from my hands and send it flying across the stone tiled floor. I looked at the phone as it skidded across the floor and my mouth opened slowly.
My phone was very nearly the lifeline to my life. It was my connection to everything. My schedule, my client's schedule and contacts. Everything. It was the heart and soul of my career. I may have a photographic memory, but I can only store so much in my punny human brain. I had backups, of course. But would have to rush back to the hotel to get one. I wasn't allowed to bring my bag with me to this event. I'm very rarely without it. I can usually be up and running again within a couple of minutes. This was going to be a disaster. I started to hear a younger man's voice apologize from behind me, but I ignored him. I had my eyes on my phone and had to get to it before someone either stepped on it or accidentally kicked it out of my range of vision. I quickly walked to it. There were some eyes on me, but those I also ignored. I had to get my device and get to my hotel before I was missed.
Scooping up my phone I slowly turned around and there was someone standing right behind me. It was so dark I didn't realize he was watching me closely. I usually don't miss things like that. I'm always hyper aware of my surroundings. "Dammit Jason, get yourself together." I verbally barated myself.
"Hi, I'm Dylan. I'm really sorry that I bumped into you so hard. Is your phone alright?" He asked as I looked up and down his body. He was young. Early 20s. Darker hair, fit. Just a little shorter than myself. He was attractive. I could tell he was attractive, even without being able to see his face clearly.
"Hey Dylan, I'm Jason. I think my phone will be ok. If it's not, I have a new one back at the hotel that's fully charged and ready to go. It just needs the SIM and SD cards installed and I'll be off and running again. I just need to get to some light to make sure."
He followed me closely as I walked towards the light near the outside of the room. As I neared the brighter area, I started to glance down at my phone, but the sight of Dylan's face out of the corner of my eye made me stop dead in my tracks. I'm usually pretty calm and collected when being introduced or "running into" celebrities. But as my quick mind started to process that this was in fact Dylan O'Brien from Teen Wolf and The Maze Runner, I almost lost my shit. I had no idea that he was going to be here, at this event. I had a friend that was the assistant to the wealthy gentleman that had organized this particular event and she had given me an early release of the guest list. He wasn't on it or the plus one list. I was flustered, to say the least.
He noticed that I wasn't walking any longer and turned around. He broke out into a smile and I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped open. I quickly contained myself and looked down at my phone. I had felt a couple of fractures in the smooth glass surface as I had been walking to the brightness of the light. But didn't think it was anything major and it might be able to wait. As I turned the device over and pressed on all of the sides to make sure the covers were all on correctly, I felt glass crumble between my fingers. It was ruined. There was no backlight and no response from any of the buttons.
His smile fell a little as he too looked down and saw the damage. "Oh no, that looks really bad. What can I do?"
"There's not much that can be done. I'm sure my last backup was within the last couple of hours, so I won't lose too much data. I've been here for about that long anyway. Most of what I've done was reply to emails. Those aren't saved on the phone, so It should be ok. I just need to get to my hotel and back here before my client realizes I'm gone. Can I borrow your driver or a car?"
"I drove myself, we can run there together," His smile returned to full brightness as he said this and it was infectious.
My grin grew too and I said, "If you've got a car, will you please take me back to my hotel so I can get a back up phone and get back here before she realizes I'm gone?"
"Of course! But I think you should drive, I'm not from here and have no idea where I'm going most of the time. I usually just drive around until I decide I'm where I need to be. My Agent insists I rent a car any time I'm somewhere for a charity event or premiere. I can write it off or something. I need to get a CPA apparently. I don't know any of this stuff that I need to know. Now that my career is starting to pick up. It's been getting kinda crazy lately. Let's go to the valet."
As we waited, I couldn't help but keep glancing in his general direction. I couldn't believe my luck. Dylan O'Brien ran into me and now we're waiting for his car to come so that we can ride together to my hotel. This didn't happen to me. Not on a normal basis anyway. I had a major crush on this boy. Ever since the first time I watched Teen Wolf.
The car finally pulled up and I made my way to the driver's side door. We got in. I had to adjust the seats a little as I was quite a bit bigger than him. We got settled, buckled in and took off. My hotel was only about a mile away and we made it in record time as it was later in the evening and most of the rush hour traffic was finally safe at home. I pulled up to the valet. I told Dylan that I'd be less than 5 minutes and told him to stay in the car so that they couldn't tow it away. I told the valet attendant that I was just going to my room to grab something and I'd be right back. He nodded his head in the affirmative and I headed to the elevator.
After I got to my room and grabbed my replacement phone, I was riding the elevator down and it finally started to click in my head. I was driving Dylan O'Brien's car and he was in the passenger seat, just feet away, waiting for me. My heart sped up slightly. I took several controlling breathes to try and calm my nerves. It helped, but barely.
The new phone was buzzing in my pocket as it ran through its restore process and I was only barely thinking about it as the bell chimed and the door opened. I hussled out of the lobby and nodding to the valet, I handed him a $50 bill and went around the car to the driver's door. Got in and took off back to the event.
I pulled the new phone out of my pocket and asked Dylan to plug it in if he had a charger. He did so.
"So you carry spare phones with you wherever you go?" He asked as he set the phone gently down into the cup holder.
"Yes, I do. You can never be too careful. And with as much as I rely on my phone for my job, I can't afford to be without one for more than an hour. So going to the store when you're in the middle of nowhere trying to make sure your client doesn't eat anything poisonous is kind of out of the question."
He looked at me and from my peripheral vision I could tell he had a curious look on his face. "What is it that you do?"
"It's kind of complicated, but basically, I'm a Temporary Personal Assistant."
"Temporary? How does that work? Most Personal Assistants are with their clients for years, if not longer."
"Like I said, it's complicated..." I tried to explain to him my situation and abilities. He genuinely seemed impressed and commented that he wasn't quite to the point in his career where he needed a Personal Assistant. But he would definitely look me up when the opportunity presented itself. I smiled despite my best efforts.
Shortly, we arrived back at the event and after dropping the car off with the valet, we went inside. As we neared the entrance, Dylan asked for my phone. "I want to give you my number. So that you know it's me calling when I need my very own Personal Assistant."
I gladly handed him my phone and started having a conflict in my head. The voices were battling it out "Should you call him first?" versus "You NEED to wait for HIM to call!!". It was painful. I watched him briefly and then I heard a faint chirp from his pocket and he pulled his phone out while handing mine back to me. I assume he had sent himself a text so he could save my number.
"It was a genuine pleasure to meet you Dylan, even under the circumstances..." I said as I stuck my hand out to shake his. He grasped my hand firmly and shook it. The contact seemed to last just a little longer than what seemed normal, but I wasn't about to complain. His hand was the perfect balance of manly firmness and feminine softness. And it was warm. So very warm. I didn't want to let go. But eventually, we made eye contact and realized the moment had passed. We both dropped our hands and turned to the door. We separated shortly after entering. Me going to check on my client and him to do whatever he was going to do.
This assignment only lasted a few more days and I had no further contact with Dylan. Which pained me. I was desperate for some form of contact, but wasn't going to push my luck. I knew there was no chance on earth of anything other than a job or possible friendship could come out of it. This thought kept creeping into the back of my mind every time I heard a phantom ring from my phone and I was disappointed each time I looked at my phone and it didn't have any new messages or missed calls.
As I arrived home I pulled out my phone and placed it on the charger, increasing the volume so that I could hear it from anywhere in the house. I plopped my suitcase down on the bed, opened it and started sorting out the clothing. Some went into a pile for pick up dry cleaning/laundry service and the rest went into the appropriate baskets for laundering myself, later.
I disrobed and got into the shower. I had turned on the wireless speaker system to play my favorite Sirius XM radio station and had turned it up a little louder than normal. I needed to unwind from this last assignment. This had been one of the most eventful assignments in recent months. I had met one of my favorite celebrities and we each had the other's number. I hoped it would only be a matter of a short time before he needed an assistant or friend. The shower was heavenly. Then I thought I heard the phone ringing from the other side of the door...
~~~~~~~*
This is my second attempt at fictional writing, please let me know what you think of it by emailing me redmondgayguy at yahoo dot com.