Chapter Eleven: I Smell Trouble

Tuesday November 20 1999

Justin called on his rarely used WASP upbringing as he sat perfectly straight and curteous in the Dean's office. A portfolio of his work was laid out in front of the Dean and a balding man named Marcus, the head of Pittsburgh Advertising.

"You have excellent skills." Marcus mused as he flipped around. "I understand the circumstances of why you want to intern prior to taking classes, and based on the quality AND quantity of your work I'm hard pressed to say no."

"Thank you sir." Justin smiled slightly.

"I have one question for you, though." Justin nodded. "Why PA? Why not a bigger company like Vangard? They are, and I admit this willingly, a good deal better." Justin thought for a moment on how to word his answer – he and Brian discussed this the other night before Justin set up the interview.

"Three reasons, sir, and I'll be honest." Justin leaned forward. "I'm homosexual." Justin gauged his reaction: nothing but a raised brow. "They are currently working on Stockwell's campaign and I do not feel that going in as a new intern while they are doing so is going to benefit ME as an artist."

"Say no more, say no more." Marcus said with a grimace. "Other reason?"

"I am currently involved with head campaign manager Brian Kinney." At this, they both looked shocked. "I want to get in based on my own merit, and if anyone knew I was.. involved with the boss, most people would think otherwise."

"I see."

"The third reason is that it is a BIG company. Which means more work, higher loads, and less time." Justin paused. "I assume you read the papers?"

"Rarely."

"Well, I was involved in a couple of incidents. Nothing illegal on my part, but I was injured. A class mate and his friends thought it would be fun to assault myself and Brian outside of my Prom."

"I do remember hearing about that."

"As a result I tend to have mood swings and I have physical limitations. I don't believe I can work as hard OR as much as they would require at this point. I was also involved in.." He paused nervously.

"The trial." The Dean spoke up for him. "Against Babylon club owner, Sapperstien. You were one of the boys drugged and.." Justin nodded.

"As the result I'm not so good in public places, or big spaces. Based on all of this I figured a smaller company would suit me better until I've healed 100%."

"You can assure your best effort though?" Marcus asked, clearly sympathetic but also unsure.

"Most of the works in the portfolio have been done within the past few months. I can work, and I work hard. I just can't do so for eight hours a day, seven days a week if you catch my drift. I need breaks, and I work mostly with computer art or painting."

"Hum." The man studied Justin's work some more. "I truly like your work and I think you could be an excellent addition to our team." Justin smiled, pleased. "We'll start you on a trial basis – five hour shifts from nine to two. If, after a while, you think you can put more time in then we'll change your hours. You'll get Sunday's off and if you could be on-call on Saturday's if we need you..?"

"That sounds great!" Justin agreed. "I apologize if I sound rude, but… is it possible for me to have access to the graphics labs and art rooms even if I'm not on duty?" Marcus cocked an eyebrow. "Let's just say I can't help myself if you don't say no."

"I think I'm going to like you, Taylor!" The man laughed. "Free access to computers and basic supplies – you want the canvases or anything expensive you have to pay for it."

"Deal – thanks." A contract was printed out and signed by all. Justin left the office with orders to report in at PA at nine the next morning. He couldn't wait to tell Brian…

Justin sat, fuming silently at Stockwell and his merry band of fag-haters. He had gone to Liberty to tell Debbie the good news only to find the Diner shut down and the avenue practically deserted. Very few people were walking around, less than ¼ of the shops were open, and cops lined the streets.

To make matters worse, he had been approached by said cops for "standing in one spot and looking suspicious." And nearly arrested when he retorted that he had never seen a shopping district more pathetic and creepy… The cops hadn't like his "tone." Add in some shoving and creepy posturing and Justin had booked it out of there.

So now he sat in front of his computer, laying out an outline for a new poster. He was thinking something along the lines of likening Stockwell with some big bag nobody liked. Stalin, or Hitler… Yeah, Hitler! Justin used an old photo of Stockwell to sketch in the man's face and shoulders.

A little creativity put the man in an old Nazi uniform complete with cap, one hand coming up to salute. 'Heil to the Chief' was splashed across the center. A little moustache made it's way onto Stockwell's upper lip…

"Impressive!" Justin yelped and spun around to see Brian, still in work attire. "What brought this on?" Justin sighed.

"Brian, don't DO that! You scared the shit out of me." Brian smirked. "Stockwell's cops took over the Avenue. I couldn't even stand there and look before they were harassing me…"

"What did they do? I'll sue the fuckers!" Brian looked pissed. Justin rolled his eyes.

"Just some macho posturing. They looked like over stuffed turkeys. But it bothered me…" He waved to the computer and sat back down to add color to the poster. "I got the job."

"That's great!" Brian disappeared into the bedroom.

"Five hour shifts, on call Saturday's, and off Sundays. Free reign of the basic art stuff." He heard Brian hum. The lettering became a blood red. The uniform a dirty green.

"Sounds like a good deal." Brian was back, this time rummaging through the fridge.

"I'm going to ask if I can work with Deekins, or at least see if I can help with his campaign." Justin decided. Brian parked himself on the chaise directly behind the computer station.

"Hmm… if I were his manager I would have you do an interview. Maybe a few other citizens as well. You can 'share your concerns' about what Stockwell is doing." Brian mused. "It would run on the TV and I BET you could pull it off well enough to make people feel guilty."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Justin asked, turning around to frown at Brian. Brian smirked. "You're horrible!"

"That isn't what you say when we're…"

"Brian!" Justin groaned. Then they shared a laugh. "Well what would you suggest I say if I can get him to do this?" Justin asked. "What would it be like? What would I do?"

"Slow down! First off, I would suggest a TV broadcast. Taped, not live, so you could tie in pictures or video of the Avenue in. Get personal, but not too personal. I would agree on a list of questions or topics beforehand." Brian mused. "I would bring it up tomorrow."

"I agree." Justin smiled.

"Now what are you planning on doing with that poster?" Brian asked. Justin glanced at it again.

"Hanging them, of course. This is one design of who knows. They won't know it was me." Brian nodded. "I might put a seal on it though – so people think that it's more than one person." Justin thought out loud.

"Wouldn't one person be harder to catch?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, but have them LOOKING for a group and they might overlook one person..." Brian laughed. "But I need to think of a name that won't tie either of us to the posters."

"How about… Concerned Citizens for the Truth?"

"Perfect."

TBC