Title: THE BODYGUARD
Warnings: Language, Death, Crime
POV: Blade (Zac)
Chapter Overview: Link
About the Story: The death of their parents broke Taylor and Zac apart. Each of them went his own way of life, Taylor became a famous superstar and never thought that his profession would bring his life in danger someday. Blade (Zac) buried the past and lived his life contentedly in his dark and dirty world as a pimp. Because of some unexpected circumstances Blade got hired as Taylor's bodyguard and the brothers saw each other for the first time after almost a decade. How will they overcome the shadows of the past?
Authors Notes: Update Chapter 54! Next Chapter in the following weeks. Enjoy ♡
previous Chapter 53
My brother is an amazing person. He equally understood how to confuse and irritate me. I was really amazed by Taylor's efforts to teach me table manners. Not only that, I also noticed that he wanted to return the favor because he tried to find a way to do something for me.
Taylor's decent manners were always something I respected and appreciated about him. Though there was one thing I couldn't help but wonder no matter how much I tried to understand his good intention. As adorable as Taylor's table teaching manners lesson was, it also had a sad and hurting side effect on me because it reminded me again of the prejudices which stood between us.
Why couldn't he accept me with my flaws? Do we all have to be perfect to be accepted?
It was a thought I did not want to entertain because I knew where it would end; in anger, frustration and feeling even more unaccepted than I already felt. Like many other things I had to suck it up in order to help Taylor to find his will to life back. I knew that he needed to do something to show me that he cared about me, so I didn't want to take it the wrong way. Taylor was adorable in his efforts and Santiago clearly enjoyed his amusement about my confusion as well.
On a serious note though, I really hoped that Taylor would soon realize that this behavior and that his tries to change me and not accept me how I was had nothing to do with how a brother should act. It's quite odd if he thought that his way to live was the only right and acceptable way.
For my own part, I knew that I didn't have that angelic sense of patience like Taylor had; I also didn't give a fuck about my manners, so the point for cultivated manners doubtlessly goes to Taylor. But that was totally fine for me, we didn't need to have the same personalities.
I knew Taylor needed music like he needed air to breathe and I respected that about him. Speaking by the impression I got from his side of life, Taylor was extremely popular and famous. Above all these things, protecting Taylor was always the highest priority. I couldn't keep my brother away from a pushy gaggle of people with politeness and consideration. My tasks were to put my life on the line for him, to save him the blushes in awkward situations, and to be the asshole if necessary.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't intend to insult anyone on purpose. Not until I considered that the person deserved it. I never wasted my time to detain myself with manners, all the more true if time was essential.
As a good bodyguard I had to know how to asses a situation right, try to avoid fights and make sure to keep always control. Violence was always the last solution. But I knew that things wouldn't always work that way. I couldn't give Taylor promises for something of which I knew it wasn't possible.
Added to that, it was my own decision how to act no matter if we were brothers, workmates or neither of these. In return I also didn't command Taylor how he should act. In a family everyone should accept each other equally. To expect someone to act different shows that this person cannot accept who you are or is afraid of what other people might think about you and him because he lets himself be influenced by other people's opinions and judgements.
I would never let myself be controlled and manipulated by anyone no matter how fucking high my salary was. If anyone can't accept you who you are, that person just isn't worth your time. Without any exception. People judge you no matter what you do, so fuck it and do what you want. A wise man's life is based around 'fuck you'. The united states of America is based on 'fuck you'. You can't survive in this world without 'fuck you', no matter if you're a dirty pimp, a famous superstar, an everyman or the king of the world.
I knew early on I was not most people. I always went my own way and I will be myself until they close the fucking coffin. Certainly, I respected Taylor's music carreer but does anyone's life have a higher meaning because he's a famous person? I don't think so. To think that someone's life is more or less worth is the root of all the sickness in this world.
I would never deny that Taylor was way more familiar with bodily care, clothes, styling and good manners than I was. I could see why he was a popular guy with his attractive, well-mannered appareance. Apparently, he thought that I had to learn some of them. I, on the other hand was completely satisfied with myself in that department.
Maybe, Taylor thought that I needed to change, to learn better manners. I didn't want him to get the impression that I didn't appreciate anything of his efforts, but to know who I am was for me one of the only things I could rely on in my life, it was one of the things which I've been in conflict with very few times.
Granted, I could be an asshole at times and had primitive tendencies, but why the fuck should I change? To adjust myself to the society? To become someone else? For what? I’ve always been a brutally honest person, and I am not going to change my personality just because anyone got offended by the truth.
To want to be someone else is a waste of the person you are. Not only is not accepting ourselves harmful to our emotional and spiritual states, but it is also wasteful. In focusing on what we could be or what we want to be, we are essentially ignoring who we are. We are wasting ourselves. If someone is focused on becoming or wanting to become someone else, the true self becomes buried under a pile of "I wish I could's" and "If only I were's". The desire to be like others, to stray towards something other than one's true nature, strikes me as extremely negative. In not accepting who you, you are wasting yourself and, in fact, wasting your life. I'm certain almost everyone has the desire to be someone else or like someone else from time to time, but it is important that we recognize this desire, remain conscious of it, and realize the potential it has to bring negativity into our lives. Not only does the yearning to be like another person cause stress, pain, and confusion, but it also allows the true self to exist in a state of disuse. Whatever you believe we are here for, I think it cannot be true that we are here to be wasted.
To cut a long story short, you can think what you want about me; but I will not change anymore. 'Cause I'm the real article. What you see is what you get.
My brother Taylor had an amazing sense for patience and empathy, he doubtlessly was an amazingly talented musician and I knew that he showed me his perfect table manners to be a role model and to show me that he cared for me. The things I liked the most about him were that he was a dreamer and a starry eyed idealist, I think the world needs more of people like him nowadays. I liked and appreciated Taylor with his decent manners and I found his polite, considerate appeareance truly adorable in many regards but I also knew I would never adopt his polite manners.
Not only it was impossible to survive as a soldier, pimp and bodyguard to battle my way, for real there's nothing more sickening and depressing than to copy a person and become someone else's clone. If you constantly try to be good enough for another person, you will wake up one day asking yourself who the fuck am I? And all you end up with are the pieces of somebody else’s life.
I think an original is always more worth than a copy.
inspiration for this scene gave us this quote:
I didn't expect Taylor to change, but sometimes I couldn't help but wish that Taylor wouldn't let himself get influenced by other people's opinions and judgements. At least when it comes to dealing with me...
I would never claim that one of us is more or less intelligent than the other one, but it's moments like this when I do feel that our roles are twisted, not just because of the protection I offer him, and maybe our twisted roles will always exist. That's why I think that Taylor is actually the one who needed to learn to remove the society stick of his ass at times, stop fucking caring about what might be awkward, uncool or what the fuck ever society has told us.
Doubtlessly, the two of us were very different. When I feel the urge to scratch my butt, fart, or pick my nose, I just do it. I'm like "Fuck Society" since age 6. And it wasn't a choice, I'm just born blessed. It's not a choice, it's about being yourself. I don't understand why people would say you choose one way or another. I didn't choose to be straight, I just am. People are who they are.
You wouldn't see a Taylor Hanson do something like that in public. Things like these has differentiated Taylor and me a whole lifetime. I sensed that Taylor wanted me to look up to him, but how can you look up to someone you can't even trust?
About that gay subject, feel free to shoot me down about that! Because yeah, gay men are kinda weird for me. When you have a job where you get paid for sex with men, trust me, you really don't long for bodily contact in your free time on top of that. I never studied my brother for any signs of outlandish behaviour, but Taylor's coming out was not really surprising anyway. I could tell it by the way he dressed, he moved, he gesticulated... there were many little hints actually.
I didn't really know how to deal with this emotional stuff to be honest, so don't expect too much from me here.
So how do I deal with this? Uhh...
"I thought so," was my brilliant or not so brilliant answer.
"Huh? You already know?" He looked at me questioning.
"'It...uh... wasn't that difficult to guess." I knew he was a fag straight away.
Bad Blade, really bad! Inwardly, I could feel Santiago's magazine smacking against the back of my head again and his chiding voice echoing through my head.
"Hey soldier, be nice to your brother!" I suppose what I did was a little on the mean side. I’ll give Taylor that.
"Sorry Taylor. No offense meant." I gave him an excusing look. He didn't look offended though.
"It's okay. It isn't something about which I feel ashamed or uncomfortable. When you've heard gay rumors about yourself as often as I have, it's actually nothing new for me anymore. Gay or not, I'm already used to it either way." He replied casually with a wave of his hand.
"How come? I mean... you're married, weren't you?" Now, I was the one who looked questioning at him.
Taylor bowed his head, studied his fingers and fumbled at his wedding ring before he answered.
"Yes I am, but my wife and I, we uhm... we're estranged... I guess it's been almost two years now." He began to explain in a sad tone. I had never met Taylor's wife, I didn't even know when he got married or how their marriage life has been but I felt that I had to say something. The thought of being responsible for him was always at the back of my head, but it wasn't just a matter of my job. I took care of Taylor because he's my brother.
"Well, I'm not very good at sentimental crap... but I want you to know that I'm really sorry to hear that." I put it plain and simply.
I remembered Taylor and his wife both looked so lucky in the photos on his walls in his house. But appearances are often deceptive. Like Santiago and me in our Army photos. Both of us were full of willpower and courage to face life during those years.
Nothing was like that anymore since he lost his leg...
"It was my music career and my busy life on tour which has broke our relationship. I...I wasn't there when she died..." he quietly continued.
"That she died is not your fucking fault Taylor!" My brother had a sick stalker who deliberated a torturous act. His wife and every other person around him were obviously targets for that bastard. That's why she had to die. I wouldn't allow him to blame himself for something which clearly wasn't his fault.
"I guess it was," he sniffled, still abstracted playing with his wedding ring.
"No the fuck! It's not!" I exclaimed loudly which made him flinch a little, but he continued speaking in the same quiet tone.
"My music career has given me the hardest blows of fate Zac and that's why I'll give it up now. I can't bear more blows of fate like that."
My older brother was speaking in riddles now and I suddenly began to wonder if his music career had something to do with the secret which he still hadn't told me yet... I couldn't ask him though, bringing up the subject again would cause new pressure on Taylor and make the waiting harder for me.
"I understand that you need a break from your music career Taylor, but I think you shouldn't give it up forever. It's like you got a special gift brother, all those possibilities you have because of your unique talent. That's why I tell you; Try not to lose it Taylor. People can easily lose everything in hard periods of their lifes unless there’s someone there to look out for them. And if your friends are too fucked up to do it, then I should. You know I'm here for you and I protect you and support you."
He gave me a grateful look, but remained serious.
"Thanks Zac. I really appreciate that. And you don't judge me because I'm gay?"
"No I don't, you're my brother. I hope you don't judge me anymore just because I'm younger than you."
"Yeah I know. I'm willing to get used to your protection but can we please keep it a secret to the public for now?"
"Yes, I already told you that it's fine with me. Santiago is the only person who knows about it aside from your faggot friends..."
"Zac!" He shot me an admonishing glance.
Probably, I had to resign myself that I had a foot in mouth disease...
Taylor's pointless teaching lesson was quickly forgotten though as we got distracted by a child's voice that came out of the TV as the advertising spots were over. The screen showed two boys one in teenager age, one a little younger. The little boy sat on the shoulders of the older one and smiled brightly after the older boy pulled him out of a swimming pool.
"I'm so proud of my big brother Oscar, he always take care of me." The little boy giggled happily into the camera.
I rolled my eyes and Taylor; well he tried to pretend he didn't hear it, looking intensly at anything but me and the TV.
Fabulous. What the fuck was going on with us?
Could we never encounter other brothers which didn't have a twisted situation like ours without feeling awkward and irritated about it?
I didn't want it to happen, but I suddenly got pissed about it. I was not in the mood to talk about that subject anymore, coz honestly, I already was pretty sick of it. Do you wanna know what really irritates me? When a guy saves his little brother, he gets titled as the super duper big brother, the 'hero'. When a little brother saves his older brother, it's embarrassing?
What the fucking hell is wrong with that shit?!?
It was just a simply daily soap but it was sickening anyway. It's almost as if the society wants to tell us that younger siblings weren't made or not allowed to achieve great things...
I'm gonna tell you what I think: "To hell with that sickening crap!" I exclaimed and was about to toss the remote control into the screen of the TV but at that moment the old cranky Satan appeared through the yellow curtains, so Taylor and I couldn't precede our uncomfortable silence anyway. Resigned, I turned the TV off and tossed the remote control in a corner instead.
"How is it going guys?"
"Same old, same old." I merely shrugged as if I had no idea whatsoever what was going on. I’m quite good at that, acting like I have no idea what’s going on. It’s an amazing power to have where everyone thinks you’re stupid.
"It's going nicely," my better half brother answered. I smiled at him. Taylor was always the peacemaker.
"You look better now, not that pale anymore like when you guys arrived."
"Thanks, I do feel better Mr. Boleyn." Taylor smiled some.
"By the way, do you have something to defend yourself Taylor? I mean aside from your bodyguard Blade?" Santiago looked over to me than back to Taylor who shifted uncertain about his question and shook his blond head. "I wouldn't point no pistol at nobody."
"That's a wise policy Taylor, but in case you are in need of something I have something for you. This is pepper spray. It can't hurt to have some."
Santiago handed Taylor a small can of pepper spray. He was right, Taylor wasn't used to carrying any weapons with him and it couldn't hurt if he had something for self defense.
Taylor accepted the old man's gift courteously. "Oh, that's very nice. I hope I won't need it though." He cutely said and his blue eyes lit up with appreciation, I could tell he was moved with gratefulness, his delighted look at Santiago was like a child that just got a Christmas present. I have noticed that I found Taylor's child like enthusiasm adorable, mostly because I found it astonishing how he managed to keep it.
"Okay guys, would you mind going to the front area? I have to take care of my business now." Santiago turned around to the yellow curtains, signaling there was someone waiting behind them.
I immediately knew what Santa meant with business, even though he maintained a low profile. I wasn't born yesterday!
"Of course not, Mr. Boleyn. Thank you very much for the pepper spray and the exquisite meal!" My well-behaved brother took his bag, stood up and gracefully stepped aside in an instant.
"Take him as an example!" Santiago provoked me with a smirk as he noticed Taylor's reaction. Guess I need to channel my inner Rocky Balboa. But alas, there's a magnetic attraction between this couch and my butt. I gave Santiago the finger before I lazily peeled my own depraved self from the couch as well. "My middle finger salutes you." I blatantly teased him back. I knew the old man long enough to know that he just wanted to help Taylor to feel more comfortable, so I didn't mind his teasing.
Besides that, having a beautiful 'fuck you' position doesn't automatically mean to act like a bastard 24/7 and not being able to be nice. So I helped Taylor into his jacked after standing up, went with him back to the front area and pulled the chair out for him to sit upon at the bar. Taylor smiled appreciatively before sitting down in his usual civilized and lady like manner. I found it adorable how girly he was without being aware of it. You could say he was a natural girly guy. There was always a faint sweet scent hanging in the air around him, I suppose he used a shower gel or body lotion that smelled like sweet strawberries. No wonder I constantly felt hungry around him...
Once we sat down at the bar Taylor politely ordered some new drinks from Nathaniel for us while I was watching how Santiago ushered a guy to his back room where we've been before. He was evidently a dealer and a junkie. Immediately I was reminded of the urge inside of me.
The urge to sniff a line...
Well, to make one thing clear. I wasn't that kind of junkie burnout who couldn't survive a day without drugs. Usually, I sniffed once or twice a week, depending on how work has been, how stressful a week was, how my mood and the extent of my depressions were. Routine crap like that.
Since I worked as a pimp and male prostitute I was drifting through life without many responsibilities aside from my hired sluts. Coke was just a plus. There were days in which I had fucked with several johns and at the end of the day, even I felt exhausted and disgusted with myself. Not disgusted enough for a change, but cocaine was a way to deal with it, to let the days just burn out and slowly slide into obscurity.
There was not only the urge for cocaine in me though, there was also another power rising up in me which slowly but constantly caused an inner fight with myself.
My responsibility for Taylor. I knew that I could never forgive myself if I did take that line and something happened to Taylor while I was in a coke delirium. Not necessary to mention Santa's major disappointment on top of that. He knew that I was taking a job like this serious. That I would get into a conflict with myself once I felt my protective instinct over Taylor. He wanted me to stop taking drugs anyway. In other words, the old smart ass knew his devilish, cunning ways to kill two birds with one stone...
But I couldn't shrug it off that easily. The guilt, self hate and self loathing was too deep in my soul. There was still no one whom I could trust except Santiago, that's why I remained caught in my loneliness prison. How could I drown the demon inside of me without killing myself?
When I overview my life, I am constantly torn between killing myself and killing everyone else around me. Those seem to be the two choices. Everything else is just killing time.
We're all addicted to something that takes the pain away.
Cocaine is my way.
previous Chapter 53
Chapter Overview: Link