#bobarrettmagic

[jared-kingston]

Risky Business

@bo-barrett-magic

Barrett Hotels. A secretarial job. It wasn’t exactly Jared’s first choice. The young man had fallen in love with advertising and graphic design over the course of the four years he’d spent at Columbia University, but times were tough for a recent graduate with no work experience to list on his resume as a result of running from his past, and work was work. And his boss was nice, so that was a plus.

It had been only a few months since he started working for the company, so Jared hadn’t really gotten to know the man he worked for. The only things he could say with confidence about his boss were that his name was Bo Barrett, he took his coffee with lots of milk and sugar, and he was married. This made the fact that he’d told Jared to join him at a gala ball that his wife couldn’t attend very confusing. Even more confusing was that he’d been given a perfectly tailored tuxedo to wear, and he’d been sent for in a private car.

How on earth did Bo get his measurements?

Jared smiled awkwardly as he gave his name and ticket to the... what even was this person’s job title? Bouncer? That sounded too low-class for this sort of thing. Host? Not quite. Maitre D? Wasn’t that only in restaurants? Jared didn’t have much time to think about it as he was waved inside the art museum that played host for the night.

Everyone was so well-dressed. And older than he was. And definitely richer. He glanced around, taking in the chandeliers and the sculptures and the paintings and the band. This was not his element. He’d come from some money, sure -- his father had been fairly successful -- but nothing could prepare him for this. He had to find Mr. Barrett.

“I haven’t seen your face around here before. Are you new to the list, sweetie? Let me guess. You’re young, so you must be the one who came up with that new app everyone’s using, aren’t you? The one with the rental cars.”

Jared turned to face the woman who had approached him. She was much older. Much more refined. Probably had been going to these things for decades.

“Um... no. I-I’m just a secretary. I work for Bo Barrett?” Jared stammered.

The woman’s face fell. “I see. Awfully well dressed for a secretary, aren’t you?”

Jared laughed uncomfortably. “I-I’m actually looking for him. Have you seen him?”

“Bo’s in the same place he is every year,” the woman replied, pointing to a group of men up the stairs on the second level. “Getting a good view of who he thinks he can buy out this quarter, I assume,” she added bitterly before leaving the young man alone in the foyer.

Jared looked up to the second level, seeing his boss and smiling shyly, making eye contact, before quickly heading up the stairs to meet him.

“I am so glad I found you so quickly. I am... I’m completely out of my league here,” Jared admitted with a sheepish grin.

[jared-kingston]

You're Worse Than Nicotine

@bo-barrett-magic

Jared brought his cigarette to his lips and inhaled, casting his eyes around the room. He hated soirees like this. He’d have thought he’d be used to them by now – he was part of Hollywood’s elite, after all: the new teen heartthrob, starring in movies with Natalie Wood and Elizabeth Taylor. His bad boy nature had finally gotten him noticed, which, all things considered, was a good thing.

It also meant that he had to attend bullshit parties like these for appearances, even though rubbing elbows with other A-list actors and directors just didn’t seem like his idea of a good time. 

His agent had disappeared on him, run off to get them drinks. Instead of being patient, he sighed, leaving his place to pace the hall until someone decided to speak to him about something he cared little about. He’d have rather spent his night out at a bar where the music was better and he didn’t have to wear a stuffy suit. Not that he minded looking good… he just preferred his leather jacket to a bow tie. 

His eyes swept over the other guests, giving a few polite smiles to those that noticed him. He was just about to call it quits when he glanced up, noticing yet another A-lister giving his date a quick grin before he dashed off to the bar for drinks. Only that wasn’t just anyone… that was Bo Barrett. The Bo Barrett. Romance in Hollywood was convoluted and a bit stunted, not to mention the fact that it (and society as a whole) frowned upon Jared’s personal tastes, but he wouldn’t have minded going a few rounds with the fast talking brunette, just to say he had. A moment of fleeting thought and Jared was stepping across the floor with intention, stubbing his cigarette out in an ashtray on a random table as he passed.

“Excuse me – Mr. Barrett?” He asked as he stepped up to the bar next to Bo, ordering himself something so it didn’t seem as though he’d just come up for the sole reason of talking to the man. A grin curved his lips as he introduced himself. “Jared Kingston. I don’t think we’ve met.”

[jared-kingston]

. . . are you gonna stay the night? doesn’t mean we’re bound for life . . .

stay the night - zedd ft. hayley williams // turn it around - k.flay // unaffected - hoobastank // human - christina perri // shake it out - florence + the machine // stay with me - sam smith // i’m good - k.flay // broken - seether ft. amy lee // everything you want - vertical horizon // just can’t win - 10 years // wicked game - stone sour // song for someone - u2 // too far gone - the all-american rejects // better than i know myself - adam lambert // gravity - sara bareilles // use somebody - kings of leon // trust me - the fray // many of horror - biffy clyro // save me - nicki minaj

LISTEN HERE

[jared-kingston]

Kingdom Come (Royal AU)

@bo-barrett-magic

The young prince of Skytower sometimes envied the knights of his kingdom. Royal family members were never really trained in combat, but Jared always wanted to know what it was like to wield a sword the way that knights like his good friend Sir Bo Barrett did. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t own a sword -- he did; the ornate rapier he wore on his hip, however, was really just for show.

This was the reason why a warm, sunny, lazy afternoon in spring saw Jared sitting atop the grassy hill by the training grounds at the back of Kingston Castle, watching the knights sparring. It wasn’t uncommon for the royal family to observe occasionally, but the prince tended to make a habit of it, if only so he could spend more time around Sir Barrett. He would never admit it aloud, but the crush he had harbored for Bo over the years had only grown stronger as the two grew older and more mature -- as if it was mature to hold onto such a schoolboy crush.

Jared clapped as Bo tackled his opponent to the ground. “Well done!” he called out, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Very impressive!”

[jared-kingston]

“You killed me!!” Bo exclaimed as he came to, wide eyes staring up at Jared as though he couldn't believe the other man could be capable of such a thing.

“Oh, hush, you drama queen. You’re fine. You just blacked out for a couple minutes,” Jared replied, smirking subtly. “You’re all bandaged up, and as long as you lay there just a bit longer, you’ll make a full recovery. Take it from me, if you were actually dead – or undead – you’d know it.”

Jared stood up from his seat next to the bed Bo was laying on, picked up a blanket from the foot of the bed, and tenderly draped it over Bo, who, if he was being honest, did look a little pale. He might have overdone it a little bit this time…

Jared placed a soft kiss on Bo’s lips. “You know I’d never hurt you intentionally, darlin’. I care about you. And I need you. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

[jared-kingston]

I Ain’t No Fortunate Son

@bo-barrett-magic

It seemed like every month the crowds at the brand new music venue, CBGB, became smaller and smaller. The reason was obvious: there was a war going on overseas and the US was drafting every able bodied young man from every state to put his life on the line answering the call of duty. Despite being a young man himself, Jared Kingston was a different type of young man and he knew that would keep him from ever being drafted. He supposed that made him lucky in a way, but he was unafraid to spit his mixed feelings about that fact into the lyrics he shouted into the microphone every Thursday night.

Jared spat the lyrics as usual, probably with more fire and vitriol than the crowd was used to. Bo had been gone for six months now, fighting “the good fight”, though at this point everyone pretty much knew it was a losing battle. Bo had gotten his draft card and, unable to avoid it, he had been shipped overseas to Vietnam. Jared wasn’t angry so much as he was scared -- scared that one day he’d get a postcard in the mail telling him Bo was injured... or worse.

The song ended. The enthusiastic clapping and cheering died down. Jared unplugged his guitar. The lights came up.

Looking into the crowd, Jared did a double take. It couldn’t be...

Standing there, in the back of the club, wearing army greens and sporting a far shorter haircut than Jared was used to, was Bo.

The musician nearly broke his guitar as he dropped it and ran towards the older man.

“Bo!” Jared exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his lover. He buried his face in Bo’s chest, taking in the man’s scent, feeling his chest rising and falling with each breath, listening for his heartbeat as if looking for proof that this was real.

Jared fought back tears as hard as he could and pushed Bo away. “Why didn’t you write to me?! You’re such a fucking jackass,” he scolded Bo, jabbing him repeatedly in the chest with his forefinger before flinging his arms around him once more, holding him there as if his lover would disappear if he let go.

[jared-kingston]

The Sound of Silence (1970s AU)

@bo-barrett-magic

It seemed like every month the crowds at the brand new music venue, CBGB, became smaller and smaller. The reason was obvious: there was a war going on overseas and the US was drafting every able bodied young man from every state to put his life on the line answering the call of duty. Despite being a young man himself, Jared Kingston was a very different type of young man and knew that would keep him from ever being drafted. He supposed that made him lucky in a way, but he was unafraid to spit his mixed feelings about that fact into the lyrics he shouted into the microphone every Thursday night.

The Wasted Youth, his band, wasn’t successful, per se, but the club was so new that the owners of CBGB didn’t mind putting a little faith in a band as long as they filled the Thursday night lull.

“What's the best that you can hope for? Pity fucks and table scraps? Subterfuge and detachment? A bullet in the head and a bullet in the chest”

Jared spat the lyrics as usual, but not with the same raw anger the crowd was used to. He was preoccupied with looking around the room, seeing how much the audience had changed. There were more young women than ever and only a handful of young men who had somehow managed to avoid being drafted. Jared presumed that a few had claimed they were (or actually were) homosexual. Others simply hadn’t received their cards yet, though they would eventually.

But one man caught his eye. He was significantly older than the rest of the people in the crowd, not to mention more attractive. Dressed much nicer, too. An A&R representative, perhaps? That could be exciting...

Jared put all of his effort into The Wasted Youth’s last song, shooting furtive glances at the man in the crowd the entire time and as soon as their set was over, he hopped off the stage and hurried over to the bar to grab two beers.

“Hey, handsome. Hope you enjoyed the set. Here. The drink’s on me. Well, technically it’s on the club, but we can pretend I’m not broke, right?” Jared said, pushing the glass bottle into the older man’s hand with a flirtatious smile and letting his voice slip into that low, crooning Southern drawl that he jokingly referred to as his secret weapon. “My name’s Jared. What’s yours?”

[pastorem-animarum-blog]

“What is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just leave me be?!” Bo shouted, still shivering though he wasn't submerged in the engulfing tank of water anymore. Instead, he watched his brother crying over his casket at his funeral, looked on at the stony face of his ex-wife, and tried not to meet eyes with the first man he'd met on the other side.

“I’m sorry, Bo. I know that it’s difficult to watch. Perhaps even harder to understand,” John replied. “I know it all feels senseless. But it was your time.”

John dealt with plenty of souls harboring confusion and pain. He found it was best to show them that there was nothing that could have been done to avoid the end of their life. 

“Here. If you’ll allow me…” Without waiting for a response, John took Bo’s wrist in his hand and ran a finger along the most visible vein on the underside. The vein and its branches immediately began to glow a soft blue-green color, which faded out around halfway down his arm. “This is the moment you were born. And Alex, 20 minutes later,” he said, pointing to two small branches at the start of the vein. “Your timeline stops at 39. There’s nothing anyone can do about that. It’s just the way things are.”

He pursed his lips, knowing that Bo had to hear something that would make him feel even slightly better. Telling someone about the timeline was the peroxide on the open wound – painful, but necessary. “…Alex will be fine,” John said finally. “He’s going to get through this. But I don’t recommend sticking around to watch. It’ll only hurt more.”