Justin and Brian both try to deal with their pain, while lines begin to converge. What will be the result?
Later that Evening...Justin's Apartment...Justin's POV
Feeling weary down to my bones, I slid my key into the lock and swung the door open; my melancholy thoughts were temporarily forgotten as Reggie came bounding up to greet me, his pig-curled tail wagging furiously in delight. "Hey, Buddy," I murmured, as I threw my keys down on my side table and squatted down to pet him. "Need to go out?" I asked, his tail wagging so much at my words that for the first time in a couple days I had to laugh. "I guess that's a yes," I decided, as I reached to grab his leash hanging on one of the coat hooks. Bending down to pick him up temporarily, I hooked the leash to his collar and headed out for his walk.
I deliberately avoided walking toward Central Park, choosing instead to travel in the opposite direction toward a smaller greenspace. I did not want anything at the moment to remind me of him. But who was I kidding? Just telling myself not to walk anywhere near the park because of him just made me think about him MORE. Since that night two days ago, I hadn't seen him since then; I suspected he was deliberately avoiding me and our bench so he didn't have to face me. And truthfully, I wasn't sure that I wanted to see him. He had disappointed me for the first time since we had met. His treatment of one of my dearest and sweetest friends had been uncalled for, even if he was new to this lifestyle. Even if Emmett had been straight, it would have been unacceptable. He had acted like Emmett was an alien from another planet. Not to mention that he wouldn't even try on the ball cap I had given him. "He probably thought THAT was too gay for him, too," I muttered to myself. I sighed as I stopped to let Reggie take care of his business near one of the larger trees, perching on a cement ledge nearby as I swung my legs idly back and forth. Unfortunately, despite how disappointed I was in Brian, I had to admit the truth: I still couldn't stop thinking about him. Worse than that, I was afraid that I might be falling in love with the bastard.
"Oh, Reggie," I mourned as his large, bulbous eyes peered up at me. "What am I going to do?" I let out a deep sigh. "Come on; we'd better get back," I told him, the night serving to mask my presence but not my pain.
I immediately heard rattling in my kitchen as soon as I unlocked my front door several minutes later to enter, but I wasn't fearful; the rapid wagging of Reggie's tale as he scampered out to greet our 'guest' - and the cursing spewing nearby - alerted me to whom my burglar was, and despite my mood, I had to smile slightly in response. "It's customary, you know, to wait until people are HOME to visit."
Daphne came waltzing out with a glass of white wine in one hand, and her cellphone in the other. "I was just about to call you, I swear!"
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before," I grumbled good-naturedly as she walked up and kissed me on the cheek. She shivered. "Geez, Justin! Next time wear a REAL coat!"
I rolled my eyes as I followed her into the living room. "I was just out long enough to walk Reggie," I explained as she handed me her glass.
"Here, this'll warm you up; I'll go get the bottle and another glass."
I nodded as she walked away, taking a tentative drink before placing it down onto the coffee table in front of me. Even though I presently didn't feel much like having any company, I couldn't very well tell Daphne I didn't want her here. She was my closest and best friend, and - like Emmett - had been there whenever I needed her. So I resolved to try and lift my mood while she was here - or at least act like I was happy, anyway.
I looked up and plastered on a smile as she walked back to me, Reggie clicking along behind her with what appeared to be a rawhide chew in his mouth; obtained, no doubt, from the cookie jar I kept on the counter. I groaned. "Daphne! I thought I told you no doggie treats after dinner. I'll have to wind up taking him out again - or risk having doggie diarrhea on my wood floor tomorrow morning."
She tsked tsked. "Oh, hush up! That's the turkey jerky treats, not a rawhide. He'll be fine. Besides, who can resist that pudgy face?" she asked, practically cooing at my dog.
I rolled my eyes as she studied me intently. "You're not just grumpy because you're cold, or I gave Reggie a treat," she decided. "What's wrong?"
I swallowed hard, feeling like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn't have. "Nothing," I dismissed her. "I'm fine."
She squinted her eyes at me as if that would tell her more. "No, it's not. Something is bothering you; I can see it."
I barked out a nervous laugh that sounded hollow even to me. "What? Do I have 'sick' written on my forehead?"
"No...," she slowly replied as she continued to stare so intently at me that I actually felt uncomfortable. I averted my eyes and reached for my glass to take another drink. "No, it's not that. It's your smile."
I turned to look at her and DID smile slightly then. "My smile? Do I have something between my teeth? Bad breath? Never mind; tell me about the new guy at work. Have you two conducted any business between the sheets yet?" I teased her. But even to me I didn't sound like myself, and she recognized my diversionary tactic for what it was.
"No, it's what your smile isn't saying," she continued, ignoring my questions. She gasped in astute realization. "It's that guy, isn't it?" Her eyes narrowed with concern. "What did he do to you, Justin?" Her normally perky self suddenly disappeared, and her 'Dr. Daphne' persona emerged.
I took one more drink to steel myself before placing the now-empty glass down onto the coffee table with a little more force than I had intended. "Nothing," I tried to explain. "He...he did nothing." Something...everything... Against my will, my eyes began to tear up. I took a deep breath, still not able to meet my friend in the eyes, because she knew me way too well. "Uh...want something to eat?" I asked, beginning to stand up. But she promptly grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down.
"No, Justin," she told me firmly as she put her own glass down next to mine. "What I want is the truth. What did this guy do to you? You couldn't shut up about him the other day; now it's as if he doesn't exist. You never DID tell me what happened at dinner. He DID come to dinner, didn't he?"
I sighed, knowing there was going to be no way to avoid this conversation; perhaps I didn't want to. I snorted. "Yeah, he came to dinner, all right; and then he came after dinner. He really fucked me over."
She gasped, her eyes wide. "Oh, my God! You mean fucked you over as in fucked you over? Or do you mean he REALLY fucked you over?"
I didn't really have to answer her question, because as I looked into her eyes and she saw the pain there, she instantly knew.
"Oh, no," she murmured as she pulled me closer to her. "The two of you actually fucked after dinner? You told me you didn't even know if he was gay!"
I laughed derisively. "Oh, he's gay, all right. He might not have ever fucked a man before, but he's definitely gay. I fucked him...and then he fucked me. In more ways than one." Again, my eyes teared up and my face clouded over as the pain washed over me, and the tears finally began to fall freely as my face crumpled and I gave into my emotions. "Daphne, he screwed me. He fucked me...he stayed the night with me...and then he left as if we had just conducted some sort of business meeting. And...and then when we finally met up again at the park," I took a deep breath as Daphne's fingers slowly stroked the skin around my wrist, "...then he embarrassed me around Emmett."
She frowned. "Emmett? How did he do that?"
I took another breath and let it out to compose myself as Daphne reached up with one hand to tenderly wipe my tears away, tucking some errant hair behind my ear as she stared quietly into my eyes, offering me the support that I so desperately needed. "Emmett, at least, didn't seem to notice. But when he ran into me at the park, I saw Brian staring at him when he sat down between us. And later he commented on what Emmett had been wearing, and asked me how I could associate with someone so 'gay.' And...and then when I tried to give him a gift," I told her as her eyes widened slightly more in surprise. I laughed in self-loathing as I explained, "It was just a Yankees ball cap. You know how I always like to wear one," I continued as she nodded. "Well, I tried to give him one, too, with his favorite team on it, and he took it, but very reluctantly. He said he 'didn't wear ball caps'." I shook my head as the tears fell more freely now as my heart was laid bare; I knew it wasn't the ball cap that was making me upset. "Daphne, he hurt me. God, he hurt me so much. I felt like some sort of experiment. And...and the worst thing is..."
"What?" she pressed softly.
I sniffled as she continued to wipe my cheeks with the pads of her fingers. "The worst thing is, I think I was falling in love with him. God, how stupid can I be?" I asked her. "I...I even asked Derrick to come over," I admitted as she sucked in a sharp breath.
"You mean...you asked him over to..."
I nodded in shame. "Yeah...I don't know why I did it. And I have no intention of continuing our relationship." I swallowed, hating myself for what I had done. "I used him, Daph," I choked out. "Just like Brian had used me."
"Oh, Justin," Daphne replied, her voice breaking as she pulled me into her arms and my head fell into her lap. I cried openly now as she slowly stroked my hair with her slender fingers. "Everything will be okay," she murmured soothingly as she tried her best to comfort me. "I'm not sure how," she admitted softly. "But it will. And I'll be right here with you."
I nodded, too overcome with emotion and weariness to reply. Soon, I gave into my exhaustion and fell asleep, my head still on her lap.
One Month Later...One Week before Christmas...
"No! No you asshole! Stay away from the fucking ornaments! And get your nose out of that damn box!"
I heard Debbie huff from several feet away, her typical weapon - a feather duster - grasped in her hand. "Her name isn't asshole, you asshole," she barked. "Even though Mrs. Kinney isn't much better," she muttered, shaking her head. I scowled at her as I walked over and picked up the stocky bundle of mass destruction. I sighed as I held her out in front of me and stared at her, her large, luminous eyes peering innocently back at me. "You and Christmas just don't mix," I grumbled, unable to really stay angry at her. Truthfully, her companionship and unfaltering faithfulness to me has been the only type of solace I had had lately, ever since the fiasco with Justin. I turned my head to peer over at Debbie, who was still standing there immobile. "Well? Don't you have some ivories to tickle, or some bunnies to dust?"
"Always," she smirked back at me. "Especially in an apartment this size." She shook her head. "What has got your panties in such a knot lately, Brian? Ever since you got back from that 'all-night' buffet you attended, it's as if you've got a stick up your ass - even more than normal," she added as I grunted. "What exactly happened that night?" she asked me point blank. Of course, it wasn't the first time she had asked me...and she was going to get the same response she got all the OTHER times.
"I told you," I replied brusquely as I walked over with Mrs. Kinney to the closet to retrieve her leash. "It's none of your fucking business." I opened the door to grab her leash where it hung in its customary place on a hook on the other side before attaching it to her collar. "I'm taking her out."
I could hear Debbie heavily sigh as I turned and, without another word, opened the door and left.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting at the same bench upon which I always sat, still hoping against hope that Justin might finally show up like he had before...before I had been such an idiot and had been so despicable to him and to his friend. I still didn't quite understand why someone had to be so 'flashy' as this Emmett was, and so...so 'out there,' I guess was the way to put it. But I had also come to realize several other things: one, Emmett's style of dress and his mannerisms - while way too over-the-top for my taste - did not affect ME, and two, I had been a total jerk to him. I knew I couldn't 'catch' something from someone who was gay; I was well-read, and I wasn't stupid. Well, not stupid when it came to information about things such as AIDS. But I WAS stupid when it came to ostracizing myself from the man that I loved.
Yes, I had come to the painful realization, the stunning realization, that somewhere along the line - even before Justin and I had had that fateful 'date' - I had managed to fall in love with him. The first man I had ever been attracted to, and the first man I had ever been intimate with. How the hell that had happened, I had no idea. But I could no longer deny it to myself.
I peered down as Mrs. Kinney whimpered. "Yeah, I know..." I murmured, as I reached down to scratch behind her ears. "It really sucks, doesn't it? Missing your friend, too, huh?" I shivered, hugging myself as I huddled against the brisk wind that had abruptly arisen, signaling the beginning of winter. It matched my dark, melancholy mood. It had been several weeks since I had last spoken with Justin here on this park bench. Since then, I had tried to contact him, but to my irritation I couldn't call him, because I had never had the foresight to ask for his damn cellphone number. After all, I saw him regularly each morning, and we had never met anywhere else outside the park until that one, life-altering night. My attempts to travel over to his apartment and speak to him face-to-face had been met with a stone of silence from the other end of the door, even though the other three tenants on the same floor had certainly heard me - and they had quite vociferously voiced their displeasure at my pounding on Justin's door, and my shouting for him to talk to me. After a week of daily visits to Justin's apartment to no avail, I decided I had to face the facts: he didn't want anything to do with me.
I sighed as I reached down and picked Mrs. Kinney up to hold her in my lap. I almost wished that I had never met Justin, much less spent the night with him, because I would have just continued on like I had before, with no knowledge of what it would be like to be with someone you were truly meant to be with, instead of someone who you were expected to be with. I now knew that there was a world of difference between the two, and I mourned what I had lost. I mourned seeing his smile light up as I met him here on our bench. I mourned the feeling that I had experienced that morning, waking up in his arms. I mourned his touches and his caresses; his playfulness, his passion for what he believed in, his intelligence, and his zest for life. Simply speaking, I missed everything about him, and I just didn't know how to handle it.
I glanced down at my Rolex, knowing I had to get back home soon. My nephew, Brad, was coming over along with Claire to take me out to lunch to celebrate my birthday, except I felt like doing anything BUT celebrating today. I knew, however, that if I tried to avoid the customary, yearly ritual that had been occurring now for the past ten years I would never hear the end of it from Claire. I stood up and gently placed my bulky companion down onto the ground before untying the leash from around the park bench leg. "Better get going, girl," I told her. "Happy Birthday to me. Yay," I exclaimed half-heartedly as we slowly made our way back toward the park entrance.
Same Time - Daphne's Photo Studio - Justin's POV
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I muttered. "Who the hell needs a picture that's the size of an elephant?"
Daphne giggled. "Oh, man up, Taylor," she told me as I huffed. "It's going behind the man's couch. It's not MY fault if it's a really BIG couch."
I snorted. "Really big? That's like calling Air Force One a paper airplane." With a heavy sigh of resignation, however, I leaned down to pick up the bottom of the framed photograph that lay resting against her hallway wall. As I peered down at it, I had to admit this one was one of my favorite photos that Daphne had taken - it was a panoramic shot of Central Park, taken near the lake and encompassing some of the outrageously expensive apartment buildings that towered over it. I tried not to focus on the fact that one of them was probably Brian's building. I had never been to his place, although from the direction he took to get to and from the park bench, and the way he described his view of the park, it wasn't too much of a stretch to think that I was looking at his penthouse at the top of one of those buildings.
Brian. I had tried hard over the past couple of weeks to push him out of my mind. But I hadn't made the mistake of further encouraging Derrick by asking him over again. It had taken a great deal of fortitude for me to call him up a couple of days after we had had sex to admit why I had done it. As I would have expected, he was offended and upset, but I felt he deserved the truth. Instead, I had filled my time with meeting Emmett for lunch, spending some quiet time with Daphne in the evenings, taking Reggie for long walks (anywhere but near 'that' bench), continuing to volunteer for PFLAG at the church, and painting - lots of lots of painting. My art had always been my refuge in times of distress, and this level of anxiety was off the charts. I obsessed over Brian...his feel, his touches, his smell, his long, lean body, his velvety, soft voice...even his dorkiness in the way he dressed identically every day. Except that I had realized after the fact that the night he came for dinner, he had let go just a bit. He had loosened the buttons of his shirt, he had worn no tie, and even his hair was a little mussed. I understood now how that was a type of compliment to me, that he had felt safe to move outside his comfort zone that night. I had sadly also realized, however, that after we had slept together he just couldn't admit who he really was, and that it just wasn't meant to be. He lived in his world, and I lived in mine.
I had been gratified to see Claire returning to the PLAG meetings, although like that first night she never ventured further than the front steps. That was fine with me. I was still contributing something worthwhile toward acceptance of gays, while helping make this confused and skittish woman more comfortable with her son's sexual orientation, although from what she told me that still hadn't quite happened. She continued to be uneasy about it. But whether or not her son Brad DID wind up being gay - or just a shy sort of guy - it still made me feel like I was doing something commendable with my time, and it kept me from dwelling on Brian too much.
"Uh...Justin? Earth to Justin?"
I blinked, looking over sheepishly at Daphne as I realized I had zoned out once I had picked up my end of the framed photo. "Sorry..."
She eyed me sympathetically, knowing full well what - or who - I was thinking about. "Ready to do this?" she asked me softly.
I glanced down at her high heels and laughed. "I am. I'm not so sure about you, though. You're going to take this up to the man's apartment in stilettos? Is this guy hot, Daph?"
She shrugged. "How do I know? I've never seen him before." She smiled at me perkily. "But a girl can never be too prepared, just in case."
I laughed. "How in the world did you sell it to him, then, sight unseen? I know you told me you hadn't had time to even put it up on your website for sale yet."
"Hey, I'm VERY persuasive," she teased me.
I grinned. "Yes, you are," I conceded. "But even you aren't that good of a saleswoman. Spill."
She laughed. "Okay...I confess. You remember my new assistant, right?"
"Boris? Buford?"
She would have thrown a camera at me if she had had a free hand as she replied with a laugh, "No, you moron! His name's Brad, and you know it!"
"Ohhh, yeah," I told her with a wry grin. "So what about Mr. Hot Guy?" For the past several weeks, Daphne had been regaling me with daily accounts of her powers of seduction when it came to her assistant. So far, however, he had not taken the bait, to her dismay. But I knew with someone as determined as Daphne that the poor guy didn't stand a chance; it was just a matter of time.
"Well, it's for his uncle's birthday," she explained.
I looked at her in disbelief. "How can he afford this on his salary? Don't tell me you cut the price just to get into this guy's pants."
She harrumphed in offense. "Please...you know me better than that! Even I have standards." I rolled my eyes as she added, "Unless he's Brad PITT, no one gets a discount on my photos...except maybe YOU."
I laughed. "You already did that, remember?" One of my favorite photos back at my apartment was one she had taken of Reggie for me as MY birthday present. Of course, that one had been free, but a couple other ones I had admired of hers had been purchased for a song...I knew all along that Daphne normally charged a hell of a lot more for her photos than she had charged me. She would have probably given them to me, but I had insisted on paying something. I had already bartered a couple other ones by painting two art pieces for her, so it had worked out well in furnishing both our apartments.
"Oh, yeah," she replied as I grinned. "Anyway, his mom actually paid for it after he showed her a copy of it. She thought it would be perfect for her brother's birthday."
I nodded. "Clever girl. Selling one of your photos and not even having to advertise it."
"I AM clever," Daphne agreed, causing me to chuckle. "After all, I talked YOU into helping me move this, didn't I?"
I grinned. "Touché." I paused before asking, "By the way, speaking of this stud muffin of yours, why didn't you get HIM to help you? He is your assistant."
"I gave him the day off. He and his mom are taking his uncle out for his birthday. He's very fond of him...and besides, I knew you would help me for free." She laughed as I scowled over at her in response.
"Awfully damn sure of yourself, aren't you?" I told her as she beamed back at me smugly. I grunted with exertion as we passed through the studio's open door. "Stop for a sec," I asked her as I used my foot to close the door behind us firmly, hearing the click of the lock. I took a deep breath, taking advantage of the brief break, before I told her, "Okay...elevator. And don't trip on those lethal heels!"
She giggled as we managed to walk the twenty feet or so to the elevator, Daphne using her elbow to press the 'down' button. Thankfully, no one happened to be using it at the moment, so it didn't take long for it to arrive.
"This is one of those Kodak moments when I wished your studio was on the 35th floor, instead of the 5th," I joked with her as we took advantage of the time we had to briefly lower the burdensome object down to the floor as the elevator descended.
She smiled at me affectionately. "I appreciate you helping me, Justin," she told me. "I know I can always depend on you when I need it."
I flushed at the compliment. "That goes both ways, you know," I replied as she nodded with a smile. If it hadn't been for Daphne and for Emmett these past several weeks, I know I would have allowed myself to be dragged down into an emotional abyss. Ever since that night with Brian, I couldn't get him off my mind. But at least with my two dearest friends, I had been able to occupy my time with some more pleasant activities, and their constant checking up on me by phone, text, and email definitely had helped to lift my spirits somewhat. I still knew, however, that it would be some time before I would stop thinking about him - if ever.
The dinging of the elevator bell, signaling we had arrived at the lobby floor, brought me out of my reverie as we both in one motion reached down to grab a corner of the photo. We almost knocked a distinguished, elderly gentlemen to the ground as the door opened, but he managed somehow to avoid a collision as he hurriedly stepped aside to allow us to pass.
Five strenuous minutes later - along with some help from the building's doorman, who graciously opened the front door for us and even the back gate of Daphne's utility truck - we finally managed to carefully slide the framed object into her vehicle, where we laid it flat upon a large blanket that she always kept ready for just these sort of trips.
Just like always, the traffic around Central Park was atrocious, but oddly enough it didn't feel oppressive to me; a lighter flow of vehicles would have felt out of place here as Daphne navigated slowly around the sea of taxis, personal automobiles, horse-drawn carriages, and human-powered bicycle tour guides that always congregated near the entrances, constantly on the prowl for their next customer. I squeezed my eyes shut once as she barely by some miracle missed a limo that had parked too far out from the curb in front of the Astoria, opening my eyes as she snorted over my reaction. I grinned back at her, silently thanking her for being such a good friend and helping to take my mind off 'other things.' No, don't go there, Taylor, I scolded myself. It's over and done with. I DID know one thing, however; I would not be taking Reggie to one particular part of Central Park from now on. The possibility of running into Brian would just be too painful for the indefinite future, and I couldn't handle that right now. Maybe never.
I watched as Daphne slowed down in front of one of the swankier buildings surrounding the park as she veered into a short-term loading spot reserved for ten-minute deliveries. "Boy, you lucked out," I observed, knowing it was normally near-to-impossible to snag one of those prized spots.
"Good thing," she told me as she stopped the small box truck. "Or you might have collapsed on the sidewalk from overexertion."
"Me? I think it would have been the other way around, Miss Five-Inch Heels," I retorted with a grin as she laughed.
We both opened our doors and jumped down from the truck as I opened the back. I peered up at a distinguished-looking man decked out in a crisp, black uniform as I called out, "Can you hold the door for us, please?" The man nodded back at me in agreement. "Thanks."
I took a deep breath. "Okay...Here goes," I told her as I climbed inside the back of the truck so I could push the bulky object toward the back to help expedite removing it. "Just remember, Ms. Money Bags. You owe me lunch - and dessert - at Maloney's after we get done."
She grinned. "Duly noted. I could take you to Maloney's every day this week, in fact, with the price on THIS one," she divulged.
I jumped down beside her to take hold of the one end as she grasped the other. "Don't be cocky," I teased her, feeling proud and happy for her, but also just a bit envious. Slowly we traversed from the vehicle, up onto the curb, and then carefully up the five or six steps leading into the expensive-looking building, the doorman tipping his cap and offering us a polite hello as we walked inside.
"Wow," I murmured, as I looked up at the outrageously large crystal chandelier hanging above us on the ceiling. The entire lobby looked like something out of a Grecian palace, with marble floors and walls, interlaced with panels of glass behind the concierge's curved station. A man dressed in similar attire to the doorman sat at a chair behind the desk as Daphne called out her name, and explained she was delivering a gift to the penthouse for her assistant. He had told her he would be explaining to the security guard that she would be coming around this time.
The man nodded as Daphne and I placed the object down just long enough for her to sign in as a visitor. "Top floor," the concierge told us. "Take the elevator on the far right. I have activated the button you'll need to press that will take you to the 18th floor. Someone will need to call down here when you're ready to leave so it can reactivated," he told Daphne as my eyes widened at the precautions taken for this resident.
As we entered the elevator a short time later, we once more placed the object down to prop it up against the back of the car. "Penthouse?"
She nodded with a smile. "I told you this guy was well off."
I shook my head in amazement. "You didn't tell me he lived in the fucking penthouse, though." She beamed smugly at me as I gaped at her, open-mouthed. "You've finally arrived, Kid," I told her in my best John Wayne accent as I playfully cuffed her on the cheek. She giggled as we both stood near the doors, peering down through the clear walls of the elevator as the floors slowly flashed by us. "So this is how the other half lives," I commented as we stood side-by-side.
"Maybe we won't ever live in a penthouse," Daphne said softly beside me. "But when it comes to friends, we already have riches beyond compare."
I turned to stare at her, profoundly moved by the wisdom of those words. I smiled. "Yeah...we do," I agreed, as I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. I reached over to grasp her hand as she twined her fingers with mine, suddenly feeling like the luckiest man in the city.
