Author's Notes: avi17 and I were talking about our stories. We both mentioned how Zhòumà Mìngyùn is turning up shorter than anticipated. There were/are plenty of opportunities to lengthen the story and most of them involve character development. I ran into the predicament of people not really understanding what I was trying to say or do. I don't know the demographic of my readers. The question that constantly ran through my mind was, "Are they going to read this and not get anything out of it? Are they going to understand what I'm doing?" Not everyone reads fanfics for sophistication and thought provocation, but that is what I like to write. So after discussing it with avi17, I decided I'm going to do it anyway. This is my story after all, and I want to make it the best it can be.

P.S. Saliva is soooo Jack.

-X-

Jack ran past me with a red feather duster in his hand. "Are all the Maid-Bots working at full capacity?"

"Sure, I guess." I shrugged and pushed another chair in at the dining table.

Jack rushed back to my side. "I don't need you to guess, Rai. I need you to know!" The feather duster was shaken in my face and I couldn't take his anger seriously.

"Jack, amado, calm down. Everything will be fine. You've thrown these parties a hundred times before and nothing has ever gone wrong." I took the duster from him and tickled his exposed belly with it. I smiled at Jack. "You know, the Bots have everything under control. Why don't you and I run upstairs and you let me relieve some of your stress? You'll feel one hundred percent better. I guarantee it."

Jack laughed lightly and draped his arms over my shoulders. "Oh Rai, that's really sweet of you." He gave me one quick kiss and then a longer, harder kiss. "But there's still too much to be done. Just because I built these Bots for specific jobs, I still can't trust them to do their jobs right. Not when there's this much riding on tonight's success, at least. I'm going to check on the Décor-Bots." Jack kissed me one last time on my nose before rushing out of the room.

Not many people strive for what they can't handle. Just the thought of all that pressure makes them forget the idea all together. For as long as we've known Jack he wanted to rule the world. That's how all of this got started after all. Jack is so insecure though. He has so many fears, lacks so much confidence, and has such a general lack of faith in himself, yet here he is. This man is exactly where he's wanted to be since adolescence. He tells me he's happy, but I know deep down he isn't. It wasn't so much the power he wanted, but rather the attention. All Jack really wanted was for people to notice him.

As a child Jack was not deprived of love by any means. I've seen home movies of the Spicer family and it was clear these parents loved their son. The thing I discovered, though, was that they did things more for their son instead of with their son. Jack wanted more. Soon Mr. Spicer was going on longer business trips more often. Mrs. Spicer threw more parties to compensate for an empty house and lack of attention. Jack was so much like his parents, but I don't think he saw this.

There came the day when Jack took the lead and made followers. He toasts champagne with aristocrats and satisfies his greed with tycoons. He does what feels good to him. Jack makes appearances and socializes when it tickles his fancy. When people call for his presence he requires intellectual stimulation and compensation by means of currency. My partner had what he desired most: All the world's eyes were on him. Jack didn't consider the responsibility that came with this. He didn't want it either. There are times when he revels in the praise and adoration. There are also times when he becomes overwhelmed by it all. Society planted the seed that feeds his ego. Like the fools they are people imagine Jack invincible, like some kind of hero. I'm the only who sees him fall apart when the power goes out. With all that pressure it's no surprise he becomes paralyzed by his fame and fortune. He turns to the bottle to cope. The world does not understand my lover. They know the Spicer legacy. They know he has money and that he is a genius in every respect of the word. They know he demands respect. They do not know how lonely he is. They don't know all his fears and insecurities. They don't know how selfish he is or how much like a child he can be. They don't know that he wants friends, not followers.

Due to his position, the world expects Jack to take care of them. They want him to fix everything that is broken by utilizing his wealth, intelligence and power. Jack never wanted to be caregiver. He wanted to be taken care of. Regardless of everything, Jack appears before them. He swallows his emotions and puts on a show, while I… I stand on the side and watch him wish it had turned out differently. Jack takes on this obligation, though. He puts all his effort into helping. I'm not really sure why he does this. Perhaps he's afraid he'll lose his admirers if he doesn't do what they ask. I suppose it could be my influence. Maybe he wants to prove himself different from Wuya by being her opposite. There is also the possibility that Jack's true good nature is actually breaking through. Whatever the reason may be, I've seen him working for months to satisfy what will happen here tonight.

I glanced at the Grandfather clock on my way down the hall. I had a little over an hour to get ready. Normally I'm the kind of guy just throws on a clean shirt, run a brush through my hair, and then walk out the door. Jack puts more care into his looks, and on special occasions he asks the same of me. An orgy, yes, of aromas fill the downstairs as the Chef-Bots cook tonight's dinner. There are a little less than fifty people coming tonight and there will be enough food to feed twice that many. I make my way past a number of Maid-Bots who are currently vacuuming the stairs and dusting the banister. I look up to see one polishing the chandelier. The scent of vanilla hits me before I even reach the bathroom door. I enter to see Jack submerged in a conglomeration of bubbles.

"You're trying too hard again," I tell him as I take my clothes off.

He doesn't reply, but squirts a glob of blue shampoo into his hand.

I slip into the tub behind him. "Are you nervous?"

"Of course not," he scoffs.

"Yeah, I think anybody would be. No matter how many shows I did, I was always kind of nervous in the circus. It's never easy knowing you have to impress that many people. Are you ready?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

I grabbed the bar of soap and began scrubbing myself with it. "Jack, you've been working your ass off for months. Of course you're ready. You shouldn't doubt yourself so much. You are gonna blow them away tonight."

He turns the water on and sticks his head under the faucet. "They'll be amazed at what I've done. They'll be speechless. You'll see."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Jack. You don't have to kill yourself to impress these people. Whatever you've done will be good enough for them. If it's not, then fuck 'em."

Jack got out of the tub and grabbed a towel. He dried off in silence for a minute before looking at me. "You'll be there, won't you? You'll stand up there with me, right?"

I smiled. "Naturalmente, amado, eu não estaria em qualquer lugar mais."

He nodded and then turned on the blow-dryer.

I looked over the outfit Jack laid out on the bed for me. I picked up the shirt and rubbed the fabric. "Is this silk?"

"Isn't it wonderful? You won't believe the way it feels against your skin. The pants are made of pure Egyptian cotton. I had some people in Thailand custom tailor them for you."

"Jack, not to sound ungrateful, but… these look like the same clothes I wear everyday."

He sat in front of the vanity mirror putting on his lipstick. "I know; that's the whole point. You know I would never force you to be something you aren't. I'm not going to dress you up like a monkey and parade you in front of a crowd of poncey pissants. I want you to wear what you're comfortable in, but with a little extra flare." Jack huffed. "Oh bollocks, I've got bags…" He started putting on his eyeliner. "I just want us to look our best tonight. That's all."

Once I finished tucking my shirt in I moved over to the vanity table. Standing behind Jack, I picked up his goat hair bristle brush and began work on his hair. "I'm really proud of you. I was wondering though; what made you start this project anyway? You never struck me as the caring type."

Jack smiled. "That hurts, Rai."

"Well, given our history."

"Mmm you have a point. Well let's see… I'm no Al Gore, but I do suppose something needs to be done. Like I said before, if I don't take care of the world, there won't be a world for me to rule over." He chuckled. "How would I spend my time then?"

"Why do you throw yourself at them? It just turns you into an anxious wreck. I mean let's face, you don't trust people farther than you can throw them. Yet, here you are, getting up on stage and making yourself as vulnerable as possible. Is it all really just so one or two people might look your way? Is it so important to you that your name be mentioned in a conversation somewhere at some point in time even when you don't hear it?"

"I need people to know I exist," he said in a very serious tone.

"I know you exist and I love you."

"I know, Rai. I know."

The guests showed up one after another. Women arrived in cocktail dresses and ball gowns. I could tell their jewelry was salvaged as the stones didn't really match their attire, but all that mattered was the fact they owned the jewels in the first place. Men wore suits that were faded and tuxedos missing their sashes and lapels. Everyone was cordial and poised. They laughed over wine and shared stories about the latest relics they had acquired.

"The mercenary I hired found a collection of Japanese paintings on the surface."

"We happened upon some African statues carved out of Rosewood. Only a few of them are chipped. We were lucky."

"You'll have to show us next time we visit."

"That's a lovely dress."

"Thank you, I picked it up on the market. My husband got this matching suit for practically a steal."

"I noticed your wife's pearls. Where did you get them?"

"Dominican vendor; he traded them for liquor, can you believe it?"

I watched these people, slowing growing dissatisfied. I didn't like how they seemed to not care about anything. They just want, want things, want comfort, want money. They strive to impress each other. I look at them and they turn into crows, with their beady black eyes and galling craw-chatter. Each one is trying to fill their nest with bigger and shinier trinkets.

I look at Jack and he's like a vibrant and beautiful Eclectus. He ruffles his feathers and dominates the room. He speaks like they do, but he isn't nearly as loud. Jack doesn't have to show off because he is already better than them by nature. These scavengers wish they could be him. They thrive on the attention he gives them and they feed on his efforts. Despite how these cretins drain him, Jack invites them back time and time again.

Where else does a diamond shine than in a pile of coal?

As for me, I am nothing more that a tiny brown Brambling. I am the sort crows pick at on the side of the road. My voice is a tiny chirp that gets drown out by a mere blow of the wind. Jack makes sure I'm seen though. We share a place at the head of the table. The seating has been questioned before, and Jack always responds as if he's been offended. Why wouldn't his husband sit at his side? It was never discussed again. The man does not fail to sing my praises. He tells them how I finished another book and brags about how my English has improved. His guests feign enthusiasm, but I can tell what they're really thinking.

What does the drudge need with reading? Why bother getting him to speak English when all he needs to do is understand it? Why is he sitting at the table; shouldn't he be in the kitchen? Hasn't he noticed my glass is empty? Look at how he holds his fork. He needs to sit up straight. I bet those are the same clothes he sleeps in.

I'm sure Jack is just as aware of all this as I am. I know that behind his courteous social smile he hates them for being ignorant. No matter how many times he refers to me as his husband, these people never seem to hear him. He wants them to respect me. He wants them to know I am their equal. Sometimes I think I should want the same thing, but I don't. As long as Jack is proud of me, I'm happy.

Dinner came to an end. The dishes were cleared away and then dessert was brought out; vintage champagne and ten different kinds of cheesecake. Once again the grinding chatter began.

"This is absolutely divine."

"I know this will go straight to my thighs, but it's just so good."

"Did you try the chocolate?"

"The one at the end has a raspberry drizzle."

"Where do you suppose he got this champagne? It must be at least 6 years mature."

"Michael can't find any bottles that have even reached first year fermentation."

"Well you know Spicer. He's a man who has ways of getting what he wants."

"I'm sure his father has an extensive collection. This is probably one bottle out of hundreds."

"Eric, don't talk about his parents. You know they're a sensitive subject for him."

Suddenly the sound of the front doorbell chimed boldly throughout the house. No one seemed fazed by this as they continued to talk amongst themselves. Jack put his hand on my shoulder and I looked at him. "Rai, would you be a dear and answer that? I hate to send you away from the table, but a Jack-Bot at the door is so impersonal. You don't mind, do you?"

Jack knew as well as I that I would take any excuse to get away from the table. He grinned when he saw the relief flood my eyes. I nodded with a smile. "Sure Jack, be back in a minute."

"Oh, Rai darling, go ahead and escort them to the grand parlor where I'll be giving the presentation. We'll be joining you shortly."

The bell chimed again as I entered the foyer. "I'm coming!" I called. The first thing I saw was a pair of bright blue eyes peering up at me and the sound of a predatory growl. There crouched on the front step was a giant snow leopard. The diamond studded collar around its neck was connected to a black leather leash which was held by a pair of slender fingers.

"Mariska, heal."

"Ashley, Vlad, glad you could make it." I stepped away from the large cat. "That's a beautiful, um… pet. I got Jack a baby calico. We keep her upstairs."

"How cute," she said with a mixed tone of sincerity and sarcasm.

They were wearing matching black fur coats and Ushankas. Faux fur, of course, since Ashley wouldn't be caught dead wearing the skin of an animal. While cats remained her favorite of the animal kingdom she had become somewhat of an activist for all species.

The marriage of Vlad and Ashley is a story even I can't tell. She showed up to a party one time on his arm and wearing a ring that could put your eye out. Vlad had managed to climb the financial ladder through old fashioned hard work and some marketing advice from Jack. He transformed his little knick-knack cart into a multi-million dollar corporation that provided basic goods around the globe. I suppose Vlad's money had something to do with the marriage. Ashley was the kind of woman who wanted to be pampered and treated like a queen, and Vlad could do just that. I'm not going to question their love. Whether they do or don't isn't my business. There is a joy in Vlad's eyes when he looks at his wife, and Ashley never leaves her husband's side. I can only hope they are happy together.

"Jack wants us to meet him in the grand parlor," I said as I took her coat. She wore a long, strapless, low-back purple dress. She had a waist and hips like an hourglass, and breasts like a pair of honeydew melons.

I admit I had to swallow.

"You look lovely."

"Thank you, Raimundo. Come Mariska." As she walked, I couldn't help but notice how her hips moved sensually from side to side.

"You're a very lucky man, Vlad."

"If you weren't married to Mista' Spicer, I would have your face broken," he said with a laugh.

I laughed too, but it was a nervous laugh. "So, are you here to invest in Jack's project, or are you just here to watch?"

"Mista' Spicer and I are already in a partna'ship. He is going to supply while I am in charge of distra'bution. I have not seen the product yet though."

We could hear a soft murmur as we got closer to the parlor. The guests were all gathered and waiting. I excused myself and joined Jack on the other side of the curtain. I could tell he was anxious by the way he walked. He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and yanked the cap off.

I put my hand over the top. "Jack, you don't need it."

"I'm about to swallow my tongue."

"Just breathe. You'll be fine. These people already think you're a god. You can't possibly screw up."

"I'm nervous."

"I'll be right next to you." I gave him a quick kiss and smiled. "For luck."

Jack nodded and took hold of my hand as we stepped out from behind the curtain.

"Ladies and gentlemen please, would you bring your attention to me? For a feast for your eyes to see, an explosion of catastrophe. Like nothing you've ever seen before. Watch closely as I open this door. Your jaws will be on the floor, after this you'll be begging for more. Hold tight because the show it not over. If you will please move in closer. You're about to be bowled over by the wonders you're about to behold here."

I felt him trembling.

Jack smiled boldly and pulled back the curtain.