Chapter Twenty-five

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From the Sunday Vanguard, January 20, 2002:

T. O. Phoenix gets trapped in a sex scandal:

For a very long time, a lot of speculation has been rife pertaining to whether the stunningly beautiful actor who had dazzled fans across the continent is gay. It was all speculation due to the young man’s very unusual good looks and feminine gender presentation, but there was of course no real evidence to shed light on this.

However, after the Christmas holidays, Mr. Ali Hassan, the pet snake trainer who’d loaned his huge pets to Ethnicity Studios for use in the movies that brought the young actor into international limelight, has come forward and told the Vanguard that the beautiful young actor had tried to seduce him several times.

‘We had worked together before he came into the movies, and he was always making sexual advances at me,’ Ali said during the course of the interview. ‘And not only at me- he made advances to several other men during the time of his glory days as an exotic dancer in a club.’

Henry trembled with fury as he read the offensive article. A ferocious, barely leashed fury boiled within him, and then he folded the newspaper and flung the thing out through the window. He was furious beyond all words, and the fact that somebody had dared to try ruin the reputation of the guy drove him wild with fury. He loved Phoenix, and there was this hope at the back of his mind that one day, the guy may come to love him back. And now, with this, it would be really impossible for the guy to love him back because of what they were saying about him.

‘So, what do you think of it?’ Richard Oke asked.

With his hands thrust angrily into his pockets, he turned to his best friend with a look that was akin to hatred. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ he asked intensely, his eyes roving over the other man’s face with eyes like a hawk’s.

‘Sure, of course I am. I had always said that the bastard should go to the dogs. You should never have gotten yourself involved in him, though I admit that he’s made it big. But what that man is accusing him of is really big and can cook him. You know that, don’t you?’

Henry sighed, his shoulders sagging. ‘Yes, I know that. But what they’re saying of him are lies.’

Richard gave Henry a coldly assessing glance, and he shook his head, perhaps in contempt, or because Henry was gullible- the latter did not know which. ‘Phoenix is some sort of enigmatic individual from some weird factory. That, plus his ambition renders anything they say about him to be totally possible when you take the time to consider it from all angles.’

‘Aw, come on,’ Henry snapped impatiently, his fingers raking through his crew cut, a sigh of frustration gushing out of him. ‘You know it can’t be true of the guy. Since you met him, have you ever known him to be anything less than courteous to you and unfailingly polite?’

‘Well, no,’ Richard replied thoughtfully as he stroked his chin, his brows drawing down in concentration. ‘But still, there is something about him, that come-hither aspect of him that draws women in, and also men. That is what the people will look at, not whether he was busy soliciting for sex from the men he had come in contact with. And besides that, you know that everybody sure loves a good scandal.’

Before Henry could throw in a scathing comment, the intercom on the polished desktop buzzed, and the voice of the secretary called into the thing, announcing that Rosalie Johnson was there to see him. Plastering on a fake plastic smile to his lips, Henry went back to his swivel chair and settled into it. He had to look like the happy millionaire that was on the top of his game because Rosalie would never stand for anything less than that. It was the one gift she had given to him- the issue of being able to project the fact that you were at the top even if you were at the rock bottom.

Behind Closed Doors Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora