The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood

Take 6 - Plan B, Reworked

The thought of Lance Hardwood never having loved anyone, or maybe never having kissed anyone (romantically) was ridiculous. But...me?

"You're a TV star! How's it possible that..."

"I'm a Disney star. There are Disney rules. I live in a glass Disney house. The world sees me, and what they see is what Disney wants them to see. I can't grow up, I can't make mistakes, I can't do anything physically dangerous. Anyone I show a romantic interest in has to be vetted and approved – meet the Mouse's high moral standards." He began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You would have met and exceeded every one of them! All except for one unavoidable thing. You're a guy. Yeah, I know it's the 21st century and they're huge on being diverse and inclusive. If you're straight, the adult world thinks your relationship is all 'romance.' But when you're gay, they think it's all about 'sex.' So I've been suffocating for 9 years."

"I had no idea," I confessed. That was an ironic double standard that should die a quick and quiet death.

"Disney wants me to also be a rock or pop singer. I said 'no way' and they did not like that answer at all. It doesn't matter that I sound like a frog with a sore throat. My schedule is dictated sunup to sundown. I can't go anywhere without security. I can't skip a single UCLA class. If you haven't guessed, Tucker is my security. But he's on my side."

"Wait a minute," I'd demanded, as something he'd just said began to sink in. "Did you say UCLA?"

"What? Did you really think I'm 17? I'm 21, Pete. I told you - I can't look my age. I can't act my age. Why do you think I was crazy enough to do what I just did? And to be a heartless bastard by involving you? I am so, so sorry for being so psycho-selfish."

"Let me think. Miss Fever, would you join me outside? I'd like to bounce some ideas off of you."

She smiled broadly. She turned to Lance and said, "I don't know how you managed it, but you found an honest-to-goodness gentleman in Southern California. You behave, and I may just forgive you for what you've put him through."

Once outside, Scarlet gave me a bone-crushing hug, making me wonder if she'd been a weightlifter before her transition.

"Thanks," I said.

"You've got your work cut out for you, Mr. Holmes." I must have looked shocked, because she chuckled. "You don't think a woman can tell when someone's channeling Henry Cavill? For shame! Put on that thinking cap of yours." And out of nowhere, she began softly singing an aria that was very familiar. I couldn't place it, though – except it had to do with...Las Vegas.

"Creating order out of chaos is my superpower. First, identify the problems: I'm wanted by the police. And Disney probably has their own Secret Service. How are we addressing this? We've got great cosmetic disguises thanks to you. And Lance says Tucker is our inside man. That needs confirmation."

"You've got that right!" Scarlet approved.

"Our communications are probably being monitored. No more using our normal channels of communication: cell phones, tablets, apple watches. Purchase some burner phones. James Dean would have been the perfect answer, but he's too conspicuous and has to be left somewhere. Establish communication protocols. Hide Car. Obtain new transportation."

"James Dean?"

"The name of the experimental prototype auto A.I. who's likeable, in a creepy high-tech sort of way."

"Uh-huh. Wait! How did you get a hold of this tech?"

"Someone my mother knows. Now - Lance desperately needs a good time. And to feel loved and appreciated for his true self."

Miss Fever checked my forehead to see if I had a temperature and sighed. "Oh, honey, you've got it baaad. It would take me at least a month before I'd even grace a man with a 5-word text if he done me like that boy done you. Don't you just want to punch him right in his gorgeous mug? Not even just a little?"

"From moment to moment, I vacillate between doing him serious bodily harm and doing very different bodily things. What would a normal person be driven to do, given Lance's circumstances? Wild things need to run, or they'll pine away. So, I vote we go to Vegas. Go wherever he wants. Then, break both his legs. You wouldn't by any chance have a car we could borrow?"

Miss Fever pouted, saying, "I do. It's just perfect for visits to the corner store, but nowhere further."

At that moment, a car alarm went off. A car that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie drove up. A window slid open, and a familiar voice said, "Hello, Peter. Sorry, but Law Enforcement officers are looking for a classic Mustang. Your mother felt it was time to activate my morphing programs. I had to find somewhere on this campus to safely do the procedure, and it took longer than I thought it would."

"James, is that really you?"

"Yes, Peter. Hello, Miss Scarlet. You're looking lovely today."

"Th-th-thank you. James. What is.."

"It's a modified Maserati Neptune Electric supercar. It's normally a two-seater, but Peter's friends are growing in number. So I seat six. It affects my drag..."

"Oh, I'll bet it does!" she purred.

"I can still do 185 mph. Peter, your mother wishes to speak to you at your earliest convenience. And your father."

I walked inside and found Lance looking at himself in the huge, mirror-covered wall. "If you were wondering, yes. You're a Weasley, no doubt about it. But way hotter. And more fun."

He turned his eyes towards me. "That would make you a bald Malfoy. But way sexier. And more buff."

Before I could comment or even blush, he apologized. "Look, I didn't think about the consequences for other people. Only mine. I'm an actor, but unlike you, I don't think 3 pages ahead. I live in the moment. The way we...way that I  live my own life. I don't know what's going to happen from one moment to the next. I just know that I think I want you there, with me, in my moments."

"I'd like that too. If it's true. Look, James has somehow changed from a Mustang into a Maserati, and..."

"You're shittin' me! How is that even possible?"

"You're a Weasley. Figure it out."

"Magic is real!"

"Maybe," I said, and took a deep breath. "Maybe not. But this is real."

Throwing Order to the winds, I kissed him. Sincerely, and not as long as we'd both wanted, I think. But now I carried a tiny bit of his Chaos inside, and he a tiny bit of my Order. Things can only get crazier.

Next stop, Vegas. The Bellagio, I think. Scarlet had been singing 'Con te Partiro' and giving me a not-so-subtle hint for our next stop. I promised Lance we'd visit Circus Circus, which of course was his grand hotel of choice. As we approached the campus exit, I couldn't help but notice a slew of photographers and reporters waiting around various buildings.

Surely, they weren't planning on following us across state lines, were they?