A/N: Ricky's growing all the time. :) Please review if you would - DL
Chapter 5
Ricky sat on a chair and tried not to twitch with nervousness. He was waiting for an interview with the station manager of an FM radio station, a station that mostly played music. They were looking for an afternoon DJ, and he was hoping he might be able to get the job. He'd swung by his old station and had gotten Walter to write him a reference before coming to this interview.
His fingers felt sweaty around his resume and the reference. He'd never thought that his show might become an albatross around his neck, but now that he was trying to get another job in radio that DIDN'T involve him going on the air and spouting hatred for gays, he could see clearly that he'd be lucky if anyone wanted to hire him. Still, you never knew until you tried.
He thought about the time he'd spent with James Belmont in his hospital room last night. The cop was such an amazing person; calm, thoughtful, intelligent. He hadn't gotten angry at Ricky even when he'd realized who he was, and he'd been willing to talk to him patiently. He knew he didn't deserve that much consideration from a gay man. But he really appreciated it, because he was already so confused and anxious and uncertain. James Belmont had the right to yell at him, to revile him, but he was really grateful that he hadn't.
"Mr. Raynes?" a man had appeared in the doorway of the office.
"Yes," he rose to his feet.
The man held out his hand. "I'm the station manager, Juan Cabrera. Won't you come inside?"
"Thank you," he said, suppressing an instinctual lance of racist dislike. His father was always saying that 'wetbacks' were stealing the jobs right out from under the white man. He walked into the office, and the manager waved him to a chair in front of his desk.
"Have a seat," the manager said, sitting down in his own chair behind the desk.
He sat down in the chair, and held out his resume and the reference. Juan Cabrera leaned forward to take them from him. "You have a lot of experience in radio?" he asked, beginning to read the resume over.
"Yes. I had a talk show before this, and I have two degrees - one in broadcasting, and the other in journalism. I've always wanted to be a DJ, but I sort of fell into the job as the host of a talk show."
"Why did you leave your last job?" Juan Cabrera asked, glancing briefly up at him.
Here was where it became tricky. Ricky felt sweat break out on his forehead. But if he lied now, and Mr. Cabrera ever found out the truth, he'd be sure to fire Ricky on the spot. He decided to be brutally honest. "Umm, the thing is...my talk show was all about how much I hated gays. I sometimes talked about how I hated other kinds of people, too, but it was mostly gays. I'd say things like they were abominations, and that they were lucky normal people let them live, let alone get married...lots of things like that. The show was pretty popular," he said unhappily.
The station manager lowered the reference and stared at him. "If it was popular, then why did you leave your show?" he asked in a neutral tone of voice.
Ricky squirmed in his chair, his eyes falling. "Last week there was a robbery at my bank," he began. "The robber pointed a gun at me and told me to put my hands up. But I couldn't do it - I froze. I was so scared that I was going to die. But an off-duty cop was in the bank too, and he shot the robber before the robber could shoot me. The cop also got shot in the process, and I felt terrible about it. He'd gotten shot because of me. I found out the next day that the policeman is gay. He saved my life, he got shot for me, and he's gay. When I realized that, I quit my show because I simply couldn't go on the air anymore and say all of that stuff about gays. It would be wrong. My station manager understood, that's why he wrote me the reference," he indicated the paper in Juan Cabrera's hand.
"I see. So you had an epiphany," the station manager said slowly.
"I guess you could say that. All I know is that I couldn't say those kinds of things anymore, not after that. Listen, I know that you might not want to hire me because of what my show was about, but I can promise you that I'll never say anything inappropriate on the air ever again. I swear. I just want a chance to start fresh, even if I don't deserve it. Please at least consider me for the job because of my qualifications, even if you decide not to hire me."
Juan Cabrera studied his face. "Your honesty is refreshing," he said thoughtfully. "And you do have good qualifications, I'll admit. All right. Why don't you come into one of our studios and give us an audition? I want to hear what you'd sound like on the air before I make any decisions."
Ricky nodded, feeling hope spring up inside of him. They left the office and went to an empty studio, where the tech set up some recording equipment so that they could make a tape of Ricky doing an audition. Juan Cabrera handed him a piece of paper.
"Here's a list of the news I'd like you to read," he told Ricky. “And the song that will come on after your intro. Use your imagination and let us see what you've got."
"Okay," he said, sitting down in the chair and pulling the microphone a little closer to his mouth. He looked at the paper, trying to concentrate and give it his very best.
"Hey, everybody, this is Rockin' Ricky Raynes coming to you on KFPX, the station that plays the best music all the time, every time." he began smoothly, remembering his days as the college radio station's DJ. "Today in the news, Israeli and Palestinian peace talks broke down once again. There was an accident between a ferry and an oil tanker off the coast of Indonesia, resulting in the deaths of over a dozen people. A nasty storm is lashing the East Coast, and New York has gotten over eight inches of rain already. People have been evacuated from their homes due to heavy flooding. The Federal Reserve Bank has announced that interest rates will remain low in the new year. There's a shocker, eh? And that's all the news for this hour. Now let's hear a song from Beyonce's latest album," he hit the switch to turn on the music, which began to play.
He looked up at Juan Cabrera, who was standing there watching him. The station manager nodded. "You're very professional, Mr. Raynes," he commented.
"Thanks. I was a DJ at my college's radio station," Ricky replied. "I guess it's like riding a bicycle."
"Not if you don't have a talent for it," Juan Cabrera said. "But you do. You've definitely got a voice that's suited for the radio. All right - I'll give you a week's trial run as a stand-in DJ. If you can prove that you can be totally professional all the time, and there are no slip-ups, then I'll consider hiring you on as our afternoon DJ. We'll see how it goes."
Ricky felt exultation and anxiety race through him at the same time. He didn't have the job quite yet - he still had to prove himself - but he knew he could do it! "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Cabrera," he said humbly.
The station manager smiled slightly. "I wouldn't have done so if I hadn't thought that you'd be good for the job," he replied. "But I have to admit that I'm impressed. Come in tomorrow at eleven o'clock for the first shift of your trial run."
'"I will. I won't be late," Ricky vowed. "And thank you again, Mr. Cabrera. I won't let you down, I swear."
"We'll see," the station manager replied. "Starting tomorrow."
Ricky burst into James Belmont’s hospital room, a huge smile on his face. The cop lifted a single brow when he saw Ricky’s expression. "Good day, I take it?" he asked.
"Yeah! I might have a job!" he said happily.
"Might?" James repeated curiously.
Ricky threw himself down in a chair and told him all about the interview and the audition. "Huh. Sounds like you might have a job," he agreed when Ricky was done. "If you can be careful about what you say on the air."
"I will be," Ricky said fervently. "I'll think about every word out of my mouth before I say it. I won't blow this opportunity. I can actually be a real DJ! That’s all I ever wanted to do. That’s what I went to college for."
"Lots of good news today, then," James remarked.
"What do you mean?" Ricky asked.
"I'm being released tomorrow. It'll be nice to get out of here," the cop said, glancing around the hospital room.
"Oh, that's great news!" Ricky cried. "But..."
James' lips lifted slightly. "I told you that you could come and hang out with me for however long it took," he said. "I never said WHERE. If you want to come over to my house tomorrow evening, we can talk again."
Relieved, he nodded. "Thanks. I know that it can't be your favorite thing, hanging around with a guy like me..." he began self-deprecatingly.
James shrugged a little. "I've done worse things. You're not a bad guy, Ricky. As homophobes go, you're actually one of the nicer ones that I've met. I believe that you have the potential to become a better man, and if I can help in the process I'm willing to put in the time."
"But what if I don't become a better man?" Ricky asked uncertainly.
"That’s your choice. I might be a little unhappy that you chose wrong, but it's still up to you. I can live with it if you go back to your old ways, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to wean you away from them for good."
Ricky fiddled with the collar of his shirt a little. "I've never met anybody quite like you before," he began slowly. "I mean, you're really..." he searched for the right word. "Honorable," he finally said.
"I try to be. In the Middle Ages, all a knight had was his honor. I like to think that I might be a little bit of a knight as a cop, protecting people and doing good for the city. Kind of a silly fantasy, eh?"
"No, it makes sense to me," Ricky replied. "I mean, I always thought of myself as a virtuous guy on a crusade when I did my show. Now THAT was a fantasy," he added ruefully. "All I did was spread hate every time I opened my mouth. Just like my father."
"You don't have to be just like him anymore, Ricky," James told him soberly. "You can be anybody that you want to be."
" I know that," he replied equally as seriously. "I just have to decide who that is."
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Chapter 5
Ricky sat on a chair and tried not to twitch with nervousness. He was waiting for an interview with the station manager of an FM radio station, a station that mostly played music. They were looking for an afternoon DJ, and he was hoping he might be able to get the job. He'd swung by his old station and had gotten Walter to write him a reference before coming to this interview.
His fingers felt sweaty around his resume and the reference. He'd never thought that his show might become an albatross around his neck, but now that he was trying to get another job in radio that DIDN'T involve him going on the air and spouting hatred for gays, he could see clearly that he'd be lucky if anyone wanted to hire him. Still, you never knew until you tried.
He thought about the time he'd spent with James Belmont in his hospital room last night. The cop was such an amazing person; calm, thoughtful, intelligent. He hadn't gotten angry at Ricky even when he'd realized who he was, and he'd been willing to talk to him patiently. He knew he didn't deserve that much consideration from a gay man. But he really appreciated it, because he was already so confused and anxious and uncertain. James Belmont had the right to yell at him, to revile him, but he was really grateful that he hadn't.
"Mr. Raynes?" a man had appeared in the doorway of the office.
"Yes," he rose to his feet.
The man held out his hand. "I'm the station manager, Juan Cabrera. Won't you come inside?"
"Thank you," he said, suppressing an instinctual lance of racist dislike. His father was always saying that 'wetbacks' were stealing the jobs right out from under the white man. He walked into the office, and the manager waved him to a chair in front of his desk.
"Have a seat," the manager said, sitting down in his own chair behind the desk.
He sat down in the chair, and held out his resume and the reference. Juan Cabrera leaned forward to take them from him. "You have a lot of experience in radio?" he asked, beginning to read the resume over.
"Yes. I had a talk show before this, and I have two degrees - one in broadcasting, and the other in journalism. I've always wanted to be a DJ, but I sort of fell into the job as the host of a talk show."
"Why did you leave your last job?" Juan Cabrera asked, glancing briefly up at him.
Here was where it became tricky. Ricky felt sweat break out on his forehead. But if he lied now, and Mr. Cabrera ever found out the truth, he'd be sure to fire Ricky on the spot. He decided to be brutally honest. "Umm, the thing is...my talk show was all about how much I hated gays. I sometimes talked about how I hated other kinds of people, too, but it was mostly gays. I'd say things like they were abominations, and that they were lucky normal people let them live, let alone get married...lots of things like that. The show was pretty popular," he said unhappily.
The station manager lowered the reference and stared at him. "If it was popular, then why did you leave your show?" he asked in a neutral tone of voice.
Ricky squirmed in his chair, his eyes falling. "Last week there was a robbery at my bank," he began. "The robber pointed a gun at me and told me to put my hands up. But I couldn't do it - I froze. I was so scared that I was going to die. But an off-duty cop was in the bank too, and he shot the robber before the robber could shoot me. The cop also got shot in the process, and I felt terrible about it. He'd gotten shot because of me. I found out the next day that the policeman is gay. He saved my life, he got shot for me, and he's gay. When I realized that, I quit my show because I simply couldn't go on the air anymore and say all of that stuff about gays. It would be wrong. My station manager understood, that's why he wrote me the reference," he indicated the paper in Juan Cabrera's hand.
"I see. So you had an epiphany," the station manager said slowly.
"I guess you could say that. All I know is that I couldn't say those kinds of things anymore, not after that. Listen, I know that you might not want to hire me because of what my show was about, but I can promise you that I'll never say anything inappropriate on the air ever again. I swear. I just want a chance to start fresh, even if I don't deserve it. Please at least consider me for the job because of my qualifications, even if you decide not to hire me."
Juan Cabrera studied his face. "Your honesty is refreshing," he said thoughtfully. "And you do have good qualifications, I'll admit. All right. Why don't you come into one of our studios and give us an audition? I want to hear what you'd sound like on the air before I make any decisions."
Ricky nodded, feeling hope spring up inside of him. They left the office and went to an empty studio, where the tech set up some recording equipment so that they could make a tape of Ricky doing an audition. Juan Cabrera handed him a piece of paper.
"Here's a list of the news I'd like you to read," he told Ricky. “And the song that will come on after your intro. Use your imagination and let us see what you've got."
"Okay," he said, sitting down in the chair and pulling the microphone a little closer to his mouth. He looked at the paper, trying to concentrate and give it his very best.
"Hey, everybody, this is Rockin' Ricky Raynes coming to you on KFPX, the station that plays the best music all the time, every time." he began smoothly, remembering his days as the college radio station's DJ. "Today in the news, Israeli and Palestinian peace talks broke down once again. There was an accident between a ferry and an oil tanker off the coast of Indonesia, resulting in the deaths of over a dozen people. A nasty storm is lashing the East Coast, and New York has gotten over eight inches of rain already. People have been evacuated from their homes due to heavy flooding. The Federal Reserve Bank has announced that interest rates will remain low in the new year. There's a shocker, eh? And that's all the news for this hour. Now let's hear a song from Beyonce's latest album," he hit the switch to turn on the music, which began to play.
He looked up at Juan Cabrera, who was standing there watching him. The station manager nodded. "You're very professional, Mr. Raynes," he commented.
"Thanks. I was a DJ at my college's radio station," Ricky replied. "I guess it's like riding a bicycle."
"Not if you don't have a talent for it," Juan Cabrera said. "But you do. You've definitely got a voice that's suited for the radio. All right - I'll give you a week's trial run as a stand-in DJ. If you can prove that you can be totally professional all the time, and there are no slip-ups, then I'll consider hiring you on as our afternoon DJ. We'll see how it goes."
Ricky felt exultation and anxiety race through him at the same time. He didn't have the job quite yet - he still had to prove himself - but he knew he could do it! "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Cabrera," he said humbly.
The station manager smiled slightly. "I wouldn't have done so if I hadn't thought that you'd be good for the job," he replied. "But I have to admit that I'm impressed. Come in tomorrow at eleven o'clock for the first shift of your trial run."
'"I will. I won't be late," Ricky vowed. "And thank you again, Mr. Cabrera. I won't let you down, I swear."
"We'll see," the station manager replied. "Starting tomorrow."
Ricky burst into James Belmont’s hospital room, a huge smile on his face. The cop lifted a single brow when he saw Ricky’s expression. "Good day, I take it?" he asked.
"Yeah! I might have a job!" he said happily.
"Might?" James repeated curiously.
Ricky threw himself down in a chair and told him all about the interview and the audition. "Huh. Sounds like you might have a job," he agreed when Ricky was done. "If you can be careful about what you say on the air."
"I will be," Ricky said fervently. "I'll think about every word out of my mouth before I say it. I won't blow this opportunity. I can actually be a real DJ! That’s all I ever wanted to do. That’s what I went to college for."
"Lots of good news today, then," James remarked.
"What do you mean?" Ricky asked.
"I'm being released tomorrow. It'll be nice to get out of here," the cop said, glancing around the hospital room.
"Oh, that's great news!" Ricky cried. "But..."
James' lips lifted slightly. "I told you that you could come and hang out with me for however long it took," he said. "I never said WHERE. If you want to come over to my house tomorrow evening, we can talk again."
Relieved, he nodded. "Thanks. I know that it can't be your favorite thing, hanging around with a guy like me..." he began self-deprecatingly.
James shrugged a little. "I've done worse things. You're not a bad guy, Ricky. As homophobes go, you're actually one of the nicer ones that I've met. I believe that you have the potential to become a better man, and if I can help in the process I'm willing to put in the time."
"But what if I don't become a better man?" Ricky asked uncertainly.
"That’s your choice. I might be a little unhappy that you chose wrong, but it's still up to you. I can live with it if you go back to your old ways, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to wean you away from them for good."
Ricky fiddled with the collar of his shirt a little. "I've never met anybody quite like you before," he began slowly. "I mean, you're really..." he searched for the right word. "Honorable," he finally said.
"I try to be. In the Middle Ages, all a knight had was his honor. I like to think that I might be a little bit of a knight as a cop, protecting people and doing good for the city. Kind of a silly fantasy, eh?"
"No, it makes sense to me," Ricky replied. "I mean, I always thought of myself as a virtuous guy on a crusade when I did my show. Now THAT was a fantasy," he added ruefully. "All I did was spread hate every time I opened my mouth. Just like my father."
"You don't have to be just like him anymore, Ricky," James told him soberly. "You can be anybody that you want to be."
" I know that," he replied equally as seriously. "I just have to decide who that is."
Go to Next Chapter