A/N: Thanks so much to those who've reviewed - it is so very much appreciated! To those who haven't - please drop a line and let me know what you like/don't like or even just let me know you're following it. :)
xxxx
As he made his way towards consciousness, every part of his body protesting it, Justin realized that he must have done it again. Fuck. He remembered racing Andy out to one of the mooring buoys, and he was pretty sure it was then that the trouble started. The loser was to buy the winner a pitcher of margaritas from the hotel's sea-side bar. They'd been camped out on the private beach of a fairly high-end resort just outside Beziers, and since Cal was friendly with one of the front desk guys, he had got them all passes for the day.
Shortly after Justin's victorious swim, they made the acquaintance of another American, a student who was also hitting the beach that day – as well as hitting on Justin. He joined them for a while, which evened out their numbers for volleyball and… well… the margaritas just kept coming. The pounding in Justin's brain this morning would seem to indicate that they were no longer his drink.
He didn't think he'd had that many actually, and he certainly hadn't intended to get drunk, but apparently …he'd done just that. Justin also had a vague recollection of getting sick at some point and he hoped it wasn't in the car - or Cal was going to kill him. This was hardly the first time one of the guys had poured him into the little Citroen and taken him home after a night of overindulgence, but if he'd yacked in Cal's car… it might well be the last time. Christ, he really didn't think he could feel any crappier.
A slight movement on the bed behind him belied that thought, and crappy didn't begin to cover what he felt now. Fuck - he must have brought the American kid back, and worse – the guy had not left as instructed. No matter how drunk he was, Justin never forgot to tell them when to leave. Well… if someone chose to ignore his instructions after he passed out, Justin could hardly be expected to be hospitable upon waking. Actually, he barely remembered the face of last night's fuck, but that wasn't unusual. They all looked the same to him, which was just how he preferred it. And he certainly didn't feel like dispelling that fantasy this morning.
Justin sat up, keeping his back to the trick, thankful to at least be on the bathroom side of the bed. He stood up gingerly, saying over his shoulder. "Look, buddy… I'm sure you were great and everything, but I'm also sure that the rules were made plain at some point… out by two – and no exceptions."
As he held his aching head and began walking towards the washroom, he thought he heard an intake of breath, as though the trick were about to speak… so Justin spoke first. "Oh - and no repeats, either." He hated it when they tried to coax him into round two. Best to disabuse the guy of that idea, right away. "Now I'm going to take a shower, but I'll be back." He said. "Do us both a favour … don't be here."
With that, Justin slammed the bathroom door and cringed as the noise of it reverberated throughout his skull. Well – he probably deserved that. It wasn't that he had anything against these guys, but he didn't want to see them again and it was easier to make them believe that when he acted like a prick. A behaviour that was starting to come all too naturally to him.
Unable to move, the discarded trick stared in shock at the door that had shut behind Justin's naked form.
"Holy shit." Brian whispered to himself.
xxxx
Fiona couldn't believe she was up this early - well… early for her, anyway. Her normal custom was to leave the breakfast crowd to Josette and whoever was scheduled to serve, but this particular morning found Fiona pacing nervously behind the bar, and wishing desperately that she still smoked. It took most of her restraint not to rush over to the hotel and barge into Justin's room, or at the very least ask Maddy if she'd seen or heard anything yet. The remaining amount of her self-control, she spent trying not to beg a cigarette from one of the waiters.
She supposed she'd hear something soon enough. Fiona didn't really want to bother Madeline this morning, anyway. The poor woman had been bothered enough already, what with the commotion outside her door the night before. That had been, as Fiona predicted, a nice mess indeed. A veritable comedy of errors, only she hadn't found anything funny about it. That Brian had certainly been the antithesis of jocularity and Fiona was still deciding what to make of him.
He was a beauty; that much was certain. His behaviour was a bit more beast; he'd nearly scared the life out of poor Andrew and Cal. She thought they'd looked all of seven years old, cowering there and babbling under the terror of Brian's shouted, "What the fuck did you do to him?"
Luckily it had only been a case of sunstroke in combination with too much tequila. A whopper of a headache today, to be sure, but not quite a death sentence. You wouldn't have thought it to look at Brian though. Fiona remembered remarking to herself at the time, "if you went by his expression we should be giving the lad the last rites."
She had no clue what would have happened if Gilles had not arrived and spied the scene. He had immediately inquired of his daughter what was going on, but the poor girl had no more idea than the rest of them.
Brian had been oblivious to them for the moment. He was kneeling by the open door to check Justin's pulse, so Fiona had taken it upon herself to give a short explanation. "It would seem that this gentleman is a friend of the young man in the car , and I get the impression he is surprised to see Justin here." She gathered her wits a bit and stepped forward extending her hand. "Fiona Kelly, by the way."
"Gilles Michaud." He moved to meet her and shook the offered hand, lingering just a touch long enough to make Fiona feel a little warm. "Is the young man all right?"
"And wasn't I just about to ask these hooligans that." She turned her attention back to a submissive Andy and Cal.
Cal spoke first. "She'll be apples, Fee – honestly."
"Honestly!" Andrew echoed frantically. "We took him to the doctor and everything, and then…"
Fiona saw that Brian had looked up scowling, and appeared about to utter something …terrible. She didn't know what the attractive Gilles had seen from his angle, but the man stepped forward before Brian could say anything.
"Calm down, boys." He'd smiled at them patiently. "Could one of you explain what precisely happened here?'
Cal nudged Andrew, who had then spoken nervously, aware that Brian was standing and glaring at them again. "Cal got us guest passes to that big hotel on the shore outside Beziers. We hung out by the water all day, swam… the bastard kicked my ass racing, actually, and then we sat by the beach bar and had drinks. Met this bloke who was keen on getting into Justin's daks… played a bit of V-ball with him, and had a few pitchers of margaritas. Justin didn't have nearly as much as I've seen him put away, but the next thing you know, he's completely off his face."
"Don't forget the technicolor yawn." Cal cringed.
"Right." Andrew nodded. "Sick as a dog he was, but the hotel doctor totally checked him out; said he'd be fine, but that he'd have to be a little more careful about booze and sun. Some people are just more sensitive and Justin isn't used to it, I guess. Anyway, he mostly just needs to sleep it off."
"Did the doctor give him anything?" Brian interrupted anxiously. "Any drugs?"
"We're to give him some aspirin later and make him drink a load of water." Cal volunteered. "Can't have anything else, anyway… he's got a list of allergies you wouldn't believe…" Then he remembered this guy probably knew that already. "Oh, right… maybe you would." He looked hopefully at his roommate. "Well, then… shall we take him in"
"Righto." Andrew nodded, praying this was their escape.
"No!" Brian let out, before he could think. "I mean…I" He had no idea what he meant. He had no idea what to do. This was just so… just so unexpected. "Where are you going to take him?"
"His place. Just in there – at Maddy's." Andrew gestured to the building a few feet down the street and across it. "It's no problem; I've taken him home plenty of times."
Brian's frown returned and Andrew blanched. "No… not like… I mean… we're just friends."
Cal, meanwhile, stood there, looking for all the world to Fiona, as though he might be thinking, "I don't know who this guy is exactly, but… thank God I never fucked Justin."
"Papa… do something." Delphine had looked at Brian's distressed expression and whispered quietly to her father. "Brian is clearly upset."
"Boys… you get the young man to his room, and Brian will be along in a few minutes." Before Brian could protest, the older man turned to him. "Let's speak to Miss. Kelly for a moment, and then perhaps you should go tend to your friend, Brian. What do you think?"
"Right." Brian collected himself slightly, perhaps some small part of his brain reminding him that this man was still a client, as Fiona later found out. "That's… that makes sense, Gilles."
"Good." The man said kindly.
At Gilles' instruction Andy and Cal had carefully removed Justin from the car and got an arm around each of their shoulders, then began to carry him toward the hotel entrance, walking past an astonished Madeline who had stood there for most of the scene, shocked into inactivity. She snapped out of it though – indicated to Fee with a wave that she'd be over later, and went to help the boys with the doors.
Brian then turned to Fiona. "How do you know him?"
"He's been coming to my café for some time." She explained. "We're friends." Brian looked confused, but Fiona refused to elaborate much until she'd spoken to Justin.
"And you… know who I am?"
"I think so." She replied simply.
Delphine cleared her throat none too subtly and asked again. "Brian, are you all right?"
"Fine." He took a breath and seemed to straighten up a bit.
Delphine shot a look of worry towards her further, who had merely nodded reassuringly. "Of course he is." The man said firmly. "Brian - obviously you were not expecting to see your friend…"
"Justin." Delphine reminded him in a whisper.
Gilles smiled at her and continued. "And you certainly were not expecting to see Justin so ill. Sunstroke can be serious, but the young man has been checked out by a doctor, and fortunately it sounds like it is a mild case. I'm sure that after a good night's sleep he will be much better."
"He will, indeed." Fiona spoke up at this point. "Had a bit too much fun - and he'll be paying for it in the morning, but that's all – he'll be more careful next time."
Brian had nodded, but his thoughts seemed very far away. Fiona could not guess at what might be going on in that pretty head. She wasn't sure she wanted to know either, but at some point – she had every intention of finding out.
"I'm sure you're right." Brian had said, noticeably pulling himself together. "I think I should just head over. What room is it?" He turned to Fiona.
"It's room 312." She replied. "But mind you don't go terrorizing those boys – they're good lads and I doubt it was truly their fault." Fiona then turned to Delphine and Gilles. "Why don't you folks come have your dinner, and this one." She gestured to Brian. "… can call you later. I'm sure everything will be sorted by then." Actually she doubted it, but it seemed like the thing to say.
"A wise plan." Gilles agreed. "Brian – do you need anything?"
"No." He shook his head. "That's all right."
"Well, if you think of something, we'll be at Miss Kelly's and after that, back at the house." Gilles said. "Let me know if there's something we can do to be helpful, otherwise just give a ring when you want the car to come for you."
"Thanks." Brian said gratefully. "I'm sorry about this, Gilles… Del."
"Don't be silly." Delphine waved him off. "Of course you must see to your friend. We'll talk tomorrow."
They had begun to go their separate ways, when Gilles said he'd be with the ladies in a moment and followed Brian. The women had no idea what he said, merely watched as the two men spoke for a moment in the doorway of the hotel, before Brian finally nodded and went in.
"Do you know him well, then – this Brian?" Fiona had asked Delphine, as they walked towards the café.
She shook her head. "Not really – but I like him very much. He's… interesting."
"That doesn't surprise me." Fiona had smiled a little.
Delphine had looked at her somewhat curiously and then commented. "You know a lot more about what just happened than we do, don't you." She observed.
"I'm not sure yet." Fiona said honestly. "But neither am I sure we should hash this over until they do it themselves first." She loved gossip, but she knew that prying about Brian from these people meant that she would be asked similar questions about Justin, and she wasn't quite ready to answer them yet – not until she'd spoken to him.
That appeared to make sense to Delphine and she agreed. "I'm sure you're right." Then she added with a small grin. "But I'm dying to know everything – aren't you?"
"I am that." Fiona laughed and patted the girls back. "But for now… let's get you some dinner." Then as Gilles caught up to them she added. "And no more of this Miss Kelly business from either of you. It's Fiona, or I'll not let you in the door."
"We can't have that." Gilles had laughed. "To hear Delphine talk, your establishment is the only thing keeping her fed."
So they had left Brian to his own devices and made their way into the café, each mulling over the events of the last twenty minutes or so, but in silent agreement not to say much until they each spoke to their respective friends.
And they hadn't either; they'd talked of just about everything but, and Fiona had joined them for dinner on the condition that it was on the house. This didn't sit well with the gallant Gilles, of course, and they had compromised by Fiona supplying the wine – of which there was plenty. Gilles seemed not at all disconcerted by the evening's events, but she and Delphine – Fiona now able to remember her name – felt the need for several glasses.
She liked them. And it spoke well for this Brian that he kept company with such pleasant people. She was prepared to think kindly of him until given reason to do otherwise. After all – initially she had been quite cross upon seeing Justin's condition and so could hardly fault Brian for the same reaction. He certainly had put the fear of… well… something, into those boys. Speaking of which – here was one of her adopted brood now.
"What are you doing here?' She asked, as Andrew came in the door. "Your shift doesn't begin for another hour yet."
"I couldn't stand it." Andrew confessed. "What happened?"
"Nothing, as yet." She responded. "If you're inquiring about Justin's visitor, that is."
"Who was that bloke?"
"Well, what did hesay?"
"Not much." Andrew told her. "But he looked daggers, that's for sure – even when I went back with the dinner you had me take him. Are you sure it was safe to leave him with Justin?"
Fiona nodded. "Safe as houses."
"Well, I'm dead curious, I'll tell you." He admitted. "Cal and I were up half the night talking it over."
"Incorrigible – the pair of you." She scolded.
Andrew rolled his eyes at the hypocrisy and continued. "Cal thinks he's an ex-lover."
"Cal is a terrible gossip – as are you." She told him sternly. "We've no doubt blown this entirely out of proportion, that's what. Now go and get yourself a proper breakfast before you start work." She gave him a little shove towards the back. "And when are you going to cut that hair?"
Andrew laughed at her and headed for the kitchen.
Fiona stood looking after him a moment and wondered why she'd said leaving Justin with Brian was safe. She wasn't sure that was exactly the word for it. In fact, she was afraid that, before the events last night had set in motion were over… someone was going to end up hurt. She just wasn't sure who.
xxxx
Brian had slept fitfully at best, but wasn't exactly alert when Justin began to show signs of animation. He'd been about to reach for the young man, when Justin suddenly sat up and spoke. Brian didn't know how he'd expected this morning's conversation to go, but he certainly had not been prepared for it to be so one sided – or so… Jesus– Justin sounded like… well, he didn't sound like himself.
He could hear the shower still running and was thankful for the prep time it allowed him. Brian sat up and ran a hand through his undoubtedly unkempt hair. He hated sleeping in his clothes, though it was hardly the first time.
He'd started out sitting on the side of the bed after those kids had left. He had resisted the urge to grill them further and had been what he considered to be quite courteous; even offered a "thanks" when the taller one with the pony tail had delivered some dinner, courtesy of Justin's other "friend". His civility lasted until the kid noticed him absentmindedly tracing Justin's scar. In addition to wearing his hair a little longer, Justin had acquired a light tan, and it made the small scar more pronounced. You had to look for it though.
"Man – that must've hurt."
Brian was startled. "What?"
"When that guy accidentally clocked him… you know, at the ball game." Andrew explained – apparently surprised that Brian didn't know the story. "Said he hasn't played since and can't say as I blame him" Andrew shook his head as he made his way back to the door. "And I thought Footy was a rough sport." He shrugged. "Well, Fee says to come round for brekkie when you get up. Are you sure you're ok to stay with him? I could still…"
"It's fine." Brian said tersely. "You can go now."
Andrew had realized he'd been dismissed and promptly exited, closing the door behind him, while Brian simply looked down at Justin wondering why he'd lied. That seemed out of character and Brian wish he knew what else was going on.
Clearly the kid had been here for sometime. Brian had got up to look around the room, noting the abundance of clothes and sketchpads strewn about the place. Well, thank God some things hadn't changed. Which reminded him… obviously the sketch Gilles had purchased was Justin's. Brian allowed himself a small smile of pride at that thought. Apparently Justin's hand control was back to its former abilities, though Brian had been secretly terrified it would never happen.
He had wandered over to the large window and looked out at the garden below. It was… pretty… and calm looking. He would bet Justin sat out there plenty – it was the sort of place he'd go to sketch. Brian sat down on the window seat and picked up the sketchbook next to him. He opened the pad and began to flip through it – aware on some level that this was tantamount to reading someone's journal without permission, but he ignored the thought.
There were pictures of the woman from the café, as well as Justin's two friends. Brian assumed they were just friends, anyway. Hoped, was more like it, but he'd deal with those thoughts later. He continued flipping through various city and countryside sketches, as well as a very intricate one of the garden below, complete with several little fantasy creatures running through it. Brian was further elated at this proof of Justin's recovery being complete. He picked up another book off the floor and began to flip through that too. As he kept going, however, his elation dwindled… there was not one sketch of him – not one. There were a couple of Justin's mother and sister, a few of Gus and even Deb, but not one of him.
Brian had put down the book and leaned against the wall, looking out at the dark garden again, trying to find some hint of the mythical creatures Justin had drawn. He couldn't see any. All he could see were pages of thoughts and dreams that had nothing to do with him anymore.
Justin had always drawn him. Frequently just from memory, but he did prefer a live model if he could get it. No sketchbook had been complete without a least a few pages that Brian had been forced to remain still for. Something he had bitched about with false fanaticism, but had secretly loved. He'd just found it difficult to keep from ravishing the artist, and to follow his instructions to keep still. His focus would end up on those beautiful blue eyes that appraised him as though anew, and adored him in ink. He always found the patience to wait, however, until that adoration was set down for posterity. What didn't occur to him at the time, was that those sketches might one day be the only proof remaining that he'd been so loved.
He had picked at the dinner that was sent over, only doing so because he had a feeling he was going to need his strength when Justin woke up. When he lay back on the window side of the large bed and closed his eyes, Brian had wondered if he were doing the right thing. He didn't know if he was or not; all he knew is that when he saw Justin – his first thought was to just be with him, appearances be damned.
What was that all purpose, good for any occasion, advice again? Go with the flow? Jesus, it might as well be use the fucking force. Although finding out that Darth Vader was his father might explain a lot. Brian took a breath and tried to relax. He would sleep here tonight, and tomorrow they would talk, and then… then he'd decide what to do next – see where that flow took him.
He had found himself disoriented for a second upon waking and didn't say or do anything for a moment. Then it all came back to him – he was in bed… with Justin right next to him – right where Brian had been wishing him since he'd left. Only these weren't exactly the circumstances he'd had in mind.
Brian had a brief moment of panic, when Justin had got up, spoken and gone to shower, but he figured: what the hell - he was here now, and he might as well find out what was going on. Not quite the first meeting he'd had planned, but there was nothing he could do about that anymore. He shook thoughts of last night from his head and sat up further against the bedstead; then he heard the water stop. Shit – looked like it was time to talk. He'd think of something though. He always did.
xxxx
Justin dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The shower had improved matters, but he still felt like shit. It was worse than his usual hangover too; he felt like he'd been hit by a bus. His head was pounding, there was a little left over nausea, and every single one of his muscles felt tight, like someone had wrung them out.
The last thing he felt like doing was eating, but he was due to meet Fee for brunch in just over an hour, and he should probably ask Andy about yesterday, as well as thank the guy for getting him home – again. Why his friend had let him bring the trick back, he had no idea, but that was not something to thank him for.
Speaking of which…as he opened the bathroom door and walked out, Justin saw a pair of shoes that were not his own still sitting by the door. He knew the guy spoke English, so what was his fucking damage? Justin really didn't need this crap right now.
He turned, saying, "Listen, I was serious, asshole. Check out time is two in the morning, not two in the aft…." Upon looking at the bed, he stopped talking, and simply stood there… trying to breath. "B...Brian?"
"Morning, Sunshine." As though he said it everyday.
"Brian?" Justin actually closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them, certain this vision would vanish. It didn't; it was still sitting there, leaning against the head of his bed and observing him curiously. "What… what the fuck are you doing here?"
"Nice talk." Brian reproved, mockingly. "Considering this is the second time you've gone on vacation without telling me."
Justin simply stared at him… unable to process this right now. Brian was here. In his room. In fucking France. "I thought… there was this guy yesterday and…I just assumed…I…"
"Yeah." Brian nodded. "I got that." He cocked an eyebrow in Justin's direction and smiled a little. "So… you went for the two o'clock curfew after all. Why the change?"
"What's going on?" Justin was half wondering if he were still asleep.
"What's going on is, my dinner across the street last night was interrupted so I could come here and make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit." Brian informed him. "Tequila isn't generally the recommended beverage for staying hydrated on hot days; apparently this is news to you."
Justin tried to remember what had happened. "I … we were playing volleyball and swimming… I was…I remember not feeling too well – thought it was a hunger headache. We had an early dinner and then I… I don't remember anymore..."
"You had sunstroke." Brian said, as though it should be obvious. "You passed out and apparently scared the shit out of your buddies… "
Justin walked towards the kitchenette and reached for the Bodum coffee maker. He needed something to do that didn't involve looking at Brian. "Please tell me I didn't throw up in Cal's car."
Brian was mildly amused, now that the kid was clearly walking around and fine.
"I believe there was some mention of that, yes, but not in the car."
"Thank God for small favours." Justin ran the water for the kettle. "So, not to be repetitious, but what are you doing in Montpellier?"
"Do I need a reason to drop in on an old friend?" Brian asked, tongue firmly in cheek.
The sarcasm snapped Justin out of his walking coma and the wheels began to turn. "My fucking mother sent you here, didn't she." He stalked over to the stove and turned on the heat. "I can't believe this shit." And for a split second he had actually deluded himself that maybe Brian was here because he wanted to be.
"Believe what shit?" Brian swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, continuing to observe the young man as he began preparations for coffee. "That I'm here with the CEO of Michaud Industries, working on their winter advertising campaign in Paris and staying at his house here for the weekend?"
"I'll guess I'll buy that." Justin was suspicious. "But what are you doing here? In my room. And how the fuck did you get in?"
"What?" Brian mocked. "You don't remember? And you were so sure I was great."
"Ok, at this point you're abusing the sarcasm." Justin scowled and put the kettle on.
Part of him was praying that he really was still asleep and this was a terrible nightmare. But it wasn't. Brian was here and he had Justin on the defensive again – in less than five minutes. He walked over to the tiny armoire in the corner and pulled out a fresh pair of jeans. Refusing to allow Brian's presence to make him feel self-conscious, he dropped the towel and quickly stepped into them. Ok – he could do this. He just had to play it cool. "So… how are you, Brian? You look good."
"You look like shit." Brian, making no secret of his observation, took in the thinner face and the tired expression.
"No, I mean it." Justin went on, not really paying attention. "You look good."
"I mean it, too. You look like shit." Brian said again. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"I think we just established I'm not feeling my best this morning." Justin snapped. "So how about you cut me a little slack – since you weren't invited in the first place." Wow – this worked well. No wonder Brian was so bloody unpleasant to everyone when he was upset; you could hide a multitude of feelings, disguised as annoyance. He was definitely onto something.
Brian had not expected this. Some defensiveness maybe, a little drama certainly, but not this. Justin seemed very calm… too calm and it baffled Brian. He'd never dealt with this Justin before. "I really was eating across the street. Your friends pulled up, I saw what was going on and… I just stayed to make sure you were all right."
"Of course." Justin gave a bitter laugh. "What else. Because I certainly can't do it by myself."
Brian got a little irritated at that. "Well, not according to what I saw last night, no."
"Whatever." Justin shook his head. "You don't live here and see me everyday – you have no idea."
"Uh… you don't live here either." Brian pointed out. "Or did you forget?"
Justin looked at the man, and realized that he couldn't be around him right now. He had no idea what to do, but he couldn't figure it out with Brian sitting there intellectually dissecting him. "Look… Brian…I know there's a lot of things to say, but I think we both know it really isn't worth saying them, so please just go."
"Let me see if I understand this…" Brian was incredulous. "...you're kicking me out?" He had been desperate for ages to see Justin, and now that he had... not only were they fighting, but he was getting the boot. What was this – some alternate universe?
"Call it what you want." Justin shrugged. "I'm simply asking if you would please leave."
"All right." Brian stocked over to the door and slipped into his shoes. "For now." He opened the door and turned back to Justin for a moment. "You don't feel well? Fine – feel better. But then we are going to talk, Sunshine. Like it or not." With that he left, closing the door quietly, but with the air of a slam.
On opposite sides of the door, each was shaking his head and thinking to himself. "Okaaay... that went well."
xxxx
X ~ The Wheel of Fortune: The wheel of life reveals our connection destiny. Sudden unexpected changes connect this card to the planet Uranus. The wheel is an apt symbol for the forces of destiny and fate, because it shows how everything is connected in a cycle; some might call it the circle of life. Everything happens in cycles; we rise and fall just as a spot on the perimeter of a wheel travels from the highest point, through all the possible points on the wheel, and then back to the apex. However changes will affect you depends on where you are on the wheel. If you are at the top then any change could throw you off, but if you are the bottom then a change could start you back up to the top. It also relates to Laws of Karma, natural consequences of our actions. Finding cycles and recurring motifs in your life. Adapting to change, a shift in fortune.
In a reading: The Wheel of Fortune reflects an unexpected course of events. Something is happening or will happen that will be a surprise, something over which a person has no control. The circumstances of this surprise may have nothing to do with what the querent either deserves or has worked to achieve. Life is giving a gift. The querent must make the choice to accept what is offered even if he does not understand its meaning in light of the other events in his life. It is a gift that goes beyond reason and logic. It is a Gift of the Spirit, and change is inevitable. You've reached a turning point in your life. The hub of the wheel relates to stability, but the outer rim portends change. Take your cues from unexpected events and synchronicities; the fates are trying to coax you in a new direction. Although you are free to resist, you profit by going with the flow – whatever it is.
