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Chapter 7: Jason Fucking Miezel
"Be mad all you want; this car is fucking nice." Amy relaxed in the passenger seat enjoying the vibrate function. It had been two weeks and Tyler had grown to love the car. He didn't love how he got it, but he appreciated Clarks thought. That's what he told Clark after the argument. Clark didn't understand how upset Tyler was.
'You needed a new car,'
he had said,
'so I got you a new car.'
He had defended himself.
"I'm not mad anymore." Tyler repeated. He had been, then he had been embarrassed, guilty, pissed again, then strangely horny, and now he was softly annoyed, but over it. "It's a nice car, I just didn't need him to buy it for me." Clark had acted like it was no big deal.
That
annoyed Tyler the most he thought.
"Well he did offer to have you pay him back."
"This is a brand new forty-thousand-dollar car. I'd be paying it off until I died." Tyler laughed. Clark had offered, handed him the receipt. Tyler balked at the sight of the zeroes. Clark had paid it off in cash, in full. And had paid for some warranty. It was a scam warranty, but Clark had the money to spend.
"Or until you two got married."
"Woah, way too soon for that thought." Tyler snapped. That thought had flown across his mind once (four times) and it horrified him beyond horror. He didn't know if he was ready for marriage. He didn't want it to explode like his parents if he did get married.
"Whatever." Amy scoffed. She pulled her notebook out of her bag. "Anyway, you ready?" She asked. "Showcase at
The Cave
, first step to a paid gig. Bookers come here all the time, one of them pisses themselves at your jokes, we're in." She said giddy.
"Yes!" Tyler pulled into a parking spot. He was ready, no nerves. He had been working 2 years of open mics, and unpaid gigs to get in front of the right people. Things had fallen through, he'd bombed performances, chickened out. But not now, not this time. He was ready. It was his time. "This is it."
"This is it." Amy repeated. They got out of the car and walked to the door, Clark had beat them and was waiting.
"Hey babe." Clark grinned and took Tyler into his arms. Tyler hugged him back. "Hey." He squeezed his man. They stood there a moment. Silent.
"Hi." Amy said reminded the two she was there.
"Hey Amy," Clark acknowledged her. "you ready sugar?" Clark asked. He was dressed for the occasion. His tight, boot cut jeans, boots to match, a brown button up with paisley, and of course, a cowboy hat. Tyler didn't know this outfit was in Clarks closet. He didn't know he'd find it this sexy either. The outfit matched Clarks voice now. His beard had grown out more, Tyler had mentioned
he liked it so Clark had let it. He had also let some chest hair grow. Tyler
really
liked that.
"You have no idea how ready I am for this." Tyler was wearing his own best outfit. A good pair of jeans, and a button up with a fun graffiti design. Amy wore a black shirt and leggings. She didn't need to look good; she wasn't going on stage. The group made it inside.
"So here's the plan, Clark holds our table. Tyler performs his tight little ass off, and me? I walk around and eavesdrop, try to find the bookers and promoters. Everyone understand." That wasn't a question.
"She has no clue how tight your ass is." Clark leaned down to Tylers ear to whisper while he firmly cupped one of Tylers cheeks. He gulped and let out a breath as the sensation coursed through him.
"Got it!" Tyler squeaked. Amy went off. "After I blow this out of the water, I want to talk to you about something." Tyler reached up to give Clark a peck before running back to the green room where the other performers where hanging out and rehearsing. Clark nodded an agreement as he disappeared.
*****
"All I mean is that we give the Mormons too much shit. Sure they're fucking weird, but I mean anal? What a great fucking way to come up with an excuse to have premarital sex." Tyler continued his joke. "'I have to save myself for marriage.'" He raised his voice to mimic a woman's. "'That's okay babe, we'll just put in gods blind spot. You know even though he sees and knows all.'" He lowered to mimic a man's. The crowd laughed at his jokes as he kept going. He segued into his scientology bit and finished off with his bit about his hatred for Tom Cruise. The crowd exploded in laughter.
Tyler had to fight to keep going and not just stand there, marveling in his success. He felt like he'd explode in joy and glitter. He made his final joke and looked into the crowd and in the front seat was Clark, a grin so wide his face looked like the
Chesire Cats.
"Well, that's my time everyone. You've been a wonderful crowd. I'm Tyler Harris, thank you and good night." He put the mic back on the stage and the crowd whooped, clapped, and roared with laughter and Clark kept his eyes on Tyler the whole time, no laughter or applause, but Tyler knew what Clark meant by his silence. Tyler had gone last, so he remained on stage while the host
came back out and had each of the comedians return and take a bow, each to more applause and cheering.
Tyler felt, for the first time, like a winner. He took his bow and they all left the stage.
"Oh my god!" Clark swooped him up and spun him planting his lips on his. "Oh my fucking- you did fucking great. Did you hear the crowd?"
"Yeah," Tyler nodded. "I-"
"They couldn't stop laughing. You fucking killed Ty." He looked down to Tyler with wetness in his eyes. Joy on his face. "Ty, you- you're gonna sell out the fucking
Apollo,
the
Paramount,
fucking
Orpheum.
" Clark listed off the theatres.
