Page 4 of As I Am
CHAPTER THREE
Carson stared out the window of his mother's kitchen into the large backyard where his father was working in the small garden. If he was any kind of son he'd be out there helping, but he hated that garden. He lost count how many years his parents forced him to help them prepare, plant and do everything else that went with having a good garden. It really wasn't much, but it was his parents' pride and joy every year. It was nearly a year-round job with the way they spent the winter planning just how they were going to plant everything when spring hit.
He brushed his fingers through his hair with a long sigh. He was tired of being trapped in the house. Sure, he could head back to California, where he had his own home, but that also meant going back to the lifestyle he hated. At least here he could act like an average person, other than not being able to go out in public much. Truth was, he was getting restless. If he could just go walk through the park or hit the mall for some window-shopping, even go see one of the newest movies he'd been wanting to catch.
He stood, moving away from the window so he didn't have to keep feeling guilty he wasn't out there with his dad, getting is fingers dirty. He'd mowed the lawn, vacuumed half the house, and put away the dishes out of the dishwasher. It wasn't like he didn't help around here. It was just that damn garden.
He shook his head, feeling the walls closing in around him. He needed to get out, if even just for a drive. Grabbing his father's truck keys from the counter, he stuck his head out the back door. "Dad, I'm going to go out for a few hours. Can I borrow the truck?"
"Sure, Carson, be safe." His dad waved from the garden.
Relieved that he didn't call him out to help with anything, Carson grabbed his old baseball cap and dark glasses before he headed for the garage, trying to decide where to go. The hat and glasses, along with the goatee he'd grown helped not to draw too much attention his way, so as long as he didn't get too up-close to people, he seldom was recognized. His dad's old pickup added to the disguise. No one expected a rock star like him to drive around in a beat-up truck.
He loved the truck just as much as his dad did. He'd learned to drive in it. It still had the small dent in the front bumper from when he'd miscalculated the distance and hit the side of the garage when he'd been sixteen.
That felt like forever ago.
His life was so different than it had been eight years ago. Back then he'd been just another kid, sitting in his room playing his guitar, and imagining what it would be like on stage. Hell, back then he didn't even really think about singing. He only sang to go along with playing the music. It was the guitar he'd loved and thought would be his key into the rock and roll world.
How wrong he was.
Once in high school, he started a band with a few friends. They weren't anything amazing, but they didn't have anyone to sing, so that was when Carson had stepped up to the mic. The rest, as they say, was history.
When a friend had talked him into trying out for one of those music shows on TV, he'd never dreamed he'd have a chance of making it. He'd gone along more for moral support than anything, entering the contest only because his friend insisted. He'd been shocked when he'd gotten through several auditions to finally make the final cut with the celebrity judges. He was sure they'd see him for the fake he was, but they hadn't. One year later, he'd managed to beat all the other contestants and win the whole thing.
That was when life changed.
He'd hardly had time to look back and breathe since. He'd been in and out of recording studios, moving around the country on one tour or another, and somehow he had become the hottest thing to hit the music charts in years.
Before he knew what was happening, his old life was over, and a new one had started. He never regretted a minute of it, but looking back, it had all happened too fast. And now, there was no going back. Not that he really wanted to. He just wished there was a switch he could turn on and off, going back to when life was simple, and friends were real.
As he drove down the street he'd grown up on, he thought about his old friends. As he passed by their houses, he wondered what they were doing now. He missed them, but they hadn't turned out to be true friends. Once he'd become famous, they all changed, and people he'd known but never been friends with tried to become friends. Carson ended up just shutting everyone out. It was easier than never trusting the people around him. Now, other than his family, he kept his personal life to his manager and band. He didn't need an entourage of fake friends using him for what he could buy them or get them. It was better to be alone.
At least that was what he told himself.
He pulled out of the neighborhood and hit the freeway, unsure where he was headed. It just felt good to get out again. The last time he'd been out was when he'd picked up the guy off the street. He bit his lip as he remembered Ky. Hell, he had trouble forgetting about him. He'd taken a center stage part in his dreams every night since they'd met. It had been a long time since a man had stayed in his mind the way Ky was.
Thinking about him, Carson decided to head back down to the city. He wasn't really looking to get laid, but if Ky was around, he'd see if he wanted to join him for a bit. It didn't have to be for sex. He liked the idea of just going somewhere and sitting together and talking. He wasn't sure Ky would go for that, but he would pay him either way. He was there to make money. It shouldn't matter how he earned it.
He pulled into town, passing by the arena where he'd performed a concert just three months before. It was overwhelming to perform in his hometown. He'd nearly forgotten the words to his songs as he'd looked out over the audience and seen faces he'd grown up with. They were few and far between, but they were still there.
As he drove deeper into the city, he kept from looking out his windows too much. At the slower speed, it was easier for people to recognize him. He'd made the mistake once and ended up with his car surrounded by a group of girls begging him for autographs. The cops had been called and had to escort him out of the area.
He didn't go out in public often without his personal security guard, but here at his parents' house, he gave him time off, promising that he would keep a low profile or hire a private security guard to escort him when he went out.
The last thing he needed was someone hanging out with him as he tried to find Ky. He didn't want to have to explain to Ky who he was, and having a bodyguard with him would pretty much give away that he wasn't just some average guy.
He turned down the small alley where he'd found Ky before. He slowed, searching the faces of the young men who perked up at the sight of his truck. It turned Carson's stomach to see how young some of the boys looked. There was a special place in hell for men who sought kids that age. He ignored the men as they waved at him and smiled, trying to draw his attention. He didn't want them. He was watching for one face and one face only. No other would do.
As he neared the end of the area, he rolled down his window as a young man approached.
"You looking for someone to have dinner with?" The man smiled.
Carson smiled back. The man looked young, but he was so thin it made it hard to tell exactly how old he was. "I'm actually looking for a certain someone. He said if I didn't see him to ask and someone might know where he is."
Disappointment passed over the guy's face, but he shrugged it off as he came to the window of the truck. "What's his name?"
"Ky." Carson didn't miss how saying the name sent a rush through his body.
