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Shan'titon High: Beyond The Gaze

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Synopsis
[MATURE CONTENTS, STRICTLY 18+ RATED, PREJUDICE, RACISM INJUSTICE, BL] The allure of dangerous attractions refused to be neglected, and distractions chosen to be explored can lead one into harmful patterns, entrapping him in cycles of addiction, difficult to escape. —---- In the turbulent times of the 1960s, Tommy Jones set off from his small town in Kentucky to Tennessee, instructed by his mother and the turns of life to retrieve his father's possessions, his rightful inheritance as heir to Barnaby Jones, as he was made to believe by his mother. Being denied his inheritance by his 'father's' friend, he was put to the test: "Show me you're more than just a colored kid claiming a white man's legacy. Get good grades, demonstrate your worth, and then we'll discuss your father's properties." Now, situated among all whites and being the only black student, Tommy was mocked. That's a lie! You can't be the son of a white man, talk more Sir Barnaby Jones. You're...a Negro. It's not possible! How could he get the privilege to join the great Shan'titon High School? He doesn't belong here! Just look at his skin sticking out like a sore thumb—peewww! Tommy was better off being poor yet happy with his fellow street brothers at home in Kentucky than being here among rich white kids who had nothing good to say to him. Well, except for… for one Benjamin Sherlock! Benjamin Sherlock, the devil son of a reputable man of the city, is a top senior in Shan'titon High, a gem of the school, the hottest of the school, yet the most vile! He cares less about anyone, he's known for his nasty self, wickedness, and rudeness! But does he give a damn? No! Tommy gets to know that he needs this guy to successfully get through this school, for protection and all. What's more, this guy seems to know his 'father' Barnaby Jones! He could really be of good help, but as they say, distractions and attractions can be very disadvantageous. Tommy is stuck in an entrapping master (Head Honcho) and servant (Host) relationship with Benjamin, standing as the epitome of pleasure, the giver of bittersweet addiction, and the full emblem of intimacy and lust! Tommy is caught up in this distraction in human form, and his actions stand as an attraction. Could this lead to love, or will it die as just a game? Benjamin: "Tommy Lee, the name fits you like a glove." Tommy: "How'd you figure that out, huh? That that's my whole first name, man?" Benjamin: "I know a thing or two, Kitten." Benjamin knows something Tommy should not know—about his father, about his past, his identity, and about his birth. And he is willing to hide it, or could he? Could he when his intentions are being doubted and he is being put to the test? Benjamin: "Kitty cat." Tommy: "Yeah, man?" Benjamin: "Let's say, just saying, Barnaby Jones isn't your old man. What then?" Tommy: "Lawdy, how can that be? Hahaha! If it ain't him, then who in the world would be my old man?" Benjamin: "A man with a reputation bigger than the whole dadgum state of Tennessee and Kentucky combined. Just sayin'.” (Update Time is irregular currently until further notice 2 - 5 chapters daily) A/N: Send A Message Through Reviews And Comments.
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Chapter 1 - Billy, His Crush

In the twilight of a damp 1960s evening, a young black boy named Tommy trudged down the deserted street, each step splashing in the shallow puddles that had formed along the sidewalk. 

The rain fell in a steady drizzle, more like a persistent mist, soaking through his sweater and clinging to his small frame. His hair, a neat all back weaving, glistened with hard moisture, and his eyes, black and expressive like those of a porcelain doll, stared ahead with a mix of determination and sorrow.

Clutched tightly in his right hand was an oversized suitcase box, its weight a constant reminder of the burdens he carried. His left hand swung freely by his side until, unexpectedly, he noticed something on the ground. 

A solitary dried maple leaf lay there, incongruously dry amidst the wet surroundings. He paused, bending down to pick it up, feeling its brittle texture between his fingers.

"Where you comin' from?" he whispered to the leaf, his voice barely audible over the patter of rain. "Why you showin' up now?"

The leaf didn't answer, of course, but in its silence, Tommy heard echoes of the past. He remembered the laughter he shared with his best friend, Billy, the adventures they had, the secrets they kept. 

Billy had been his confidant, his partner in crime, the brother he never had, and then also his crush. Yes, he had loved Billy but perhaps Billy never loved him as much as he loved Billy. Because, just like that, it was over.

Tommy's mind drifted back to that fateful afternoon, just a few hours ago. They had been playing marbles under the old oak tree when Billy suddenly stopped, his face serious.

"Sorry, Tommy, I can't hang out with you no more," Billy had said, his voice breaking.

"Say what now? Why you gotta be like that, man?" Tommy had asked, confusion and hurt blending into a painful knot in his chest.

"My folks,... they laid it down straight. They reckon I shouldn't be pals with you 'cause you're, you know, kinda different.."

Different. The word had hung in the air like a curse, heavy and suffocating. Tommy didn't need Billy to explain. He knew what it meant. 

It was a word that had followed him all his life, whispered behind his back, sometimes even shouted to his face. But hearing it from Billy, from his best friend, the one he had secretly loved and crushed on, had cut deeper than any other time.

"How's I different, man?" Tommy had challenged, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Billy had just looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm real sorry, Tommy," he had said before running off, leaving Tommy standing alone under the oak tree, the marbles forgotten at his feet.

Now, in the rain-soaked evening, Tommy sighed deeply, slipping the maple leaf into his pocket. It was supposed to symbolize love, right? 

He laughed bitterly, a harsh sound that was swallowed by the rain.

"Love," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "That's a real knee-slapper, ain't it?."

He resumed walking, his footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The rain seemed to listen, each dropping a sympathetic pat on his shoulders. 

He looked up at the sky, letting the water mix with the tears that finally escaped his eyes.

"Why, rain?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Why take him away too, man?"

The rain had no answer, only its persistent rhythm, as if to say that life went on regardless of the pain one felt. 

Tommy took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He couldn't fall apart, not now.

He spoke to the leaf in his pocket, feeling its fragile presence as a small comfort. "Maybe you'll remind me that love ain't always like this. Maybe one day, it'll be different."

With a final sigh, he adjusted his grip on the suitcase box and continued his journey. 

The rain fell steadily, a relentless reminder of the world's indifference, but Tommy walked on, step by step, through the drizzling rain and the darkness of the evening. 

As Tommy walked through the rain-soaked streets, he spotted a payphone booth ahead and hastened towards it.

He pushed open the door, stepped inside, and deposited a coin into the slot. He dialed the number, waiting for someone to answer but silence followed instead.

"Hello?" he said, his voice cautious.

"Is this Tommy? This is Mr. Charlene speaking," came the deep, reassuring voice on the other end. "We gotta talk about your rights to your father's properties. Can you meet me at the Copa, Jen 'N' Kins Copa?"

Tommy glanced up, squinting through the glass building for the payphone stained with drops of rain.

Just ahead, the familiar neon sign of the Jen 'N' Kins Copa glowed brightly, its light cutting through the evening gloom. The letters shone with a welcoming warmth that seemed at odds with the cold, wet night.

"I'm right around," Tommy replied, his voice steadying with determination. "I'll be there in a jiffy."

"Alright, I'll be waiting for you inside," Mr. Charlene said before the call ended with a click.

Tommy ended the call, placing the phone back on its hanger. To be able to reach Mr. Charlene only meant that the either the Copa, just like few luxurious Copas in Kentucky, has its own payphone or Mr. Charlene was that rich to afford one.

Well, that was unimportant. He had to focus now. His father's properties were all he had left, and securing his rights to them was crucial for his future.

He quickened his pace, the rain now feeling more like a backdrop than a burden. 

As Tommy neared the entrance of the Copa, the rain still drumming a rhythmic beat on the pavement, he paused for a moment. 

The familiar neon sign glowed with a warm light, cutting through the damp evening and drawing him forward. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his chest ease just a little.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside, and the warmth of the interior washed over him, a stark contrast to the chill outside. 

The air was thick with the mingling scents of cigars, polished wood, and the faint trace of expensive perfume. He couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. 

"I know Copas real well," he muttered to himself, a sad smile playing at the corners of his lips.