Chapter 9: Diversion

New York City, Day2


A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor's book.

Irish Proverb


The two men were sitting next to each other on a stool at some gay bar. They didn't care for the ambiance or the men. They were not there for that. They came for the strong booze. Brian was more than offended to discover that Justin had none at his place. The first time the adman came to NY he had made sure to stock the place with his favorite scotch. Where did it go? Apparently Justin had had some company, because it really wasn't his habit to drink on his own.

Justin interrupted the silence.

"I have to call my boss."

"Okay."

"Do you know if there are some documents or stuff to give him to prove why I'm leaving?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know; maybe the newspaper announcement or something."

"Won't he trust you without them?"

"I don't know. But I can't be too sure. I like this job. The pay is fine and I can pretty much choose my schedule. I like working the evenings so I can spend the day discovering the town and enjoy the light if I want to draw. Really, he's pretty cool."

"So you shouldn't have any problem. Plus, it's illegal to fire you because you have to go to your father's funeral. You have the right to take a few days off."

"Yeah, but this is New York. People are lining up for jobs like mine.

"Really?" Brian's voice was dripping with disbelief.

"What? Being a receptionist isn't good enough?"

"Not what I said. It's just you can find that kinda of job anywhere."

"Maybe, but the hostel is fine and the boss is fair. You don't get a job with a real contract everywhere, trust me. I had enough difficulties to find this one. I have a friend who works ten hours straight in a restaurant and don't even get a break. She doesn't have any contract, so if she refuses she'll get fired. The worst thing is that you have dozens of people willing to take her job. It's ridiculous, really, because it's a nice restaurant with a good clientele and the tips she makes are sometimes more than her pay. And it's the same with the landlords. The money they ask you for a month rent is astronomical, especially when you see the awful places people live in."

"Like yours, you mean?"

"Mock me, but yeah, like mine. Well, Sarah, the waitress, lives in an even smaller apartment and she pays more."

"Wouldn't this friend be a bit naïve?"

"She's not. I discovered that early. She's smart. She has a bachelor's degree from a good college. But she lives in a better neighborhood than me. New York is so expensive."

"Look … are you doing okay? Because you know…"

"I know." smiled Justin. "And if I need anything, I'll ask. But right now I don't. I saved up enough money from "Rage at Hollywood" and I still get the monthly sales from the comic. My job pays well enough so I can afford this place. I just can't do extras like clubbing or paying myself some studio time."

"So you still don't paint?"

"I work on my computer a lot, to prepare canvases, but I can't do more than that right now. I can't afford the supplies and I don't have enough space here to store them anyway. But I might have found something. There is an art studio not too far away. I applied to be an assistant. I'll have to set the easels and cleaned up a bit before and after every lesson. It's a private center where they give art classes. It wouldn't pay well, but I could choose to be paid in studio time and store my paintings over there. That's what they told me."

"Have you heard from them yet?"

"No, but I know there is a waiting list so I try not to get too much hope. Jobs like that are really rare and you have a lot of competition because of all the art students and other artists living in NY. I guess living in Pittsburg had some advantages."

"Less competition?"

"Yeah, and more affordable rent. I pay more for my crappy apartment than for the place I had back home. And it was bigger and with lots of light."

"It was crappy too."

"Hey, I liked it."

"I never understood how you could be fine in such extremes. I know you have a taste for luxury as much as I do, still you can live in such lousy apartments like this one and be fine with it."

"I don't know. I guess I don't really care for money. I like the fact that with it you can afford some luxury. It's not really the material things I'm talking about, but it's that when you have money, you are more independent, freer to do what you want. I don't really care for money and success, but it'll be nice to have my work recognized and appreciated, and to be able to live from it. I don't need to be like some of those well-off artists. I just want to be able to afford good supplies and do what I like for a living. The rest is bonus, really. I don't particularly enjoy living in such a small place, but I'm fine with it because it's not what matters."

"You have other priorities."

"Exactly."

Brian smiled at him; a tender and kind of proud smile. It pleased Justin.

"It never killed anyone to live in a crammed place."

"Actually it did. Does. Living with rats or with lead or asbestos in the wall can make you sick and kill you."

"Brian! Don't say things like that!"

"Well, it's true."

"But not at my place! I don't have rats or stuff in my walls!"

"You sure?"

"Shit, Brian, I won't be able to sleep there now!"

"I'm just saying. Did your landlord say anything?"

"I … I don't remember."

"Christ, Justin!"

"I was so excited and relieved to have found something. Living with Daphne's friend – or should I say acquaintance - had to come to an end."

"Oh, you mean the vampire?"

Justin shivered at the memory. "Don't call her that. She was not a vampire."

"No? You said she was always dressed in black with a lot of make-up and…"

"She was a Goth, yeah. "

"And she was only living at night, right?"

"Yeah."

"So she was a vampire."

"You know I don't believe in that stuff, but after living with her, I'm seriously more inclined to believe in it."

"Well, I'm glad you are not waking me up in the middle of the night anymore, because you're scared of a girl."

"She was watching me sleep! It was creepy! Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and see her face so close to yours," Justin moved closely to Brian's face, with big eyes and hands moving nervously, " her eyes staring at you."

"It was creepy, I'm telling you. Maybe she did want to suck my blood." shuddered the young man.

"Or suck something else." Chuckled the older man.

"Brian! Oh gross, gross, gross. Now I really won't be able to sleep." Responded the blond, grimacing and shuddering.

"Poor Sunshine."

"Stop making fun of me! She was scary!"

"Yeah, I remember you whispering 'Brian, Brian it's me. I..I can't sleep. She's scaring me. She's watching me in my sleep. Oh, Brian talk to me, I don't like being all alone.'" added Brian with a small girly frightened voice.

"I don't sound like that! And I never said, I … you know what, never mind. You'll stop making fun of me the day it happens to you."

"Huh, it did… need I remind you that you are creepy too?"

"ME? " Exclaimed the blond in a way too high-pitched voice for his taste.

"Yeah, you! How many times did I wake up with you staring at me?"

"It's different."

"Of course, when you are the one doing it, it's different." Brian said shaking his head.

"It is. We are together. We share the same bed. We sleep together. I wasn't sleep with her. I wasn't her boyfriend or anything. Shit, she knew I'm gay. But I'm telling you, she was weird." He stated firmly.

"Well, finding out you've been drawing me in my naked state while I was sleeping can be considered creepy too."

"It's not creepy, it's art."

Brian exploded in a loud laugh.

"Oh, Justin!" He grabbed the blond's head and kissed soundly Justin's forehead.

"Anyway, I could kill Daph. 'Oh, you'll see, she's a bit different from your usual friends, but she's really nice and she won't bother you at all.' " he continued, offering an exaggerated and sarcastic imitation of Daphne.

"What a crock of shit! So yeah, during the day she wasn't bothering me at all, as she was sleeping, probably locked in her coffin. But shit, at night… I don't mind Goth, but she was such a cliché. I'm pretty sure she wasn't even Daphne's friend. She didn't seem to know anything about me or her. And her place was so dark. The walls were paint in black and there were black curtains draping the windows. I couldn't see anything, less work. But she was a good cook."

"And you didn't marry her?"

"Fuck you!" Justin said playfully bumping Brian's shoulder.

"How did we get to talk about that anyway? I don't even remember what we were talking about at first."

"Good." Said Brian seriously.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Want to blow me?" He folded his lips in his mouth, then made the word 'blow' pop.

"Why don't you blow me for a change?"

"My! You know how to make a guy feel special."

"I know, I learned that from you." Smirked Justin.

Mission accomplished for Brian; he had completely distracted Justin and turned around his mood. He would remember soon enough, thought the older man. That was the last thought to enter his mind before he grabbed Justin and pulled him out of the bar. They went back to Justin's dive, where Brian applied himself and gave his lover the blowjob of his life.


A/N: I just wanted to say that I -and the characters- do not mean any disrespect to Goth culture or Goths. My purpose here was to create some comic relief by playing with the clichés we've all heard about Goths, clichés that Justin's former roommate was apparently full of. I know that Goth culture is far more profound and interesting than most people think.