Chapter 35
The rest of Sunday morning was a complete disaster for Brian. Feeling antsy, he started to get ready to go to see his son, when Mel called and hesitantly told him that Lindsay had taken Gus to spend the Sunday at her parent's house. Pretending he didn't care, – because frankly, what else could he say to Mel? –he grabbed his jacket, his car keys and left the loft as if the devil were behind him.
Going down the stairs, he stopped on the first floor for a few seconds in front of Justin's door. He could hear Coldplay at the highest volume, meaning that Justin was probably painting furiously to exorcise his demons, or sprawled on the big pillows on the floor smoking, looking at the ceiling and thinking. He wanted to knock, but he knew he had to give Justin the space he had asked for. God knew he needed some space himself. If only he knew what for, because he couldn't stand even himself right now.
Inside the Corvette, he headed to the diner, but as soon as he reached Liberty Avenue, he changed his mind. If the guys were there they would ask where "Sunshine" was, and Brian just didn't want to have to answer to that. Then he headed for Kinnetik, but he gave up halfway, because frankly, not even a workaholic like him would be able to concentrate on anything remotely resembling work after the conversation he'd had with Justin.
In his mind, Justin's words kept replaying. Things like 'you resent me' or 'I can't stand it anymore' and 'how much proof do you need', over and over. He knew he had to do something, anything, or he would lose Justin forever, and he knew it would be his own doing. Could it be true that he resented Justin for leaving? He certainly didn't blame him, not directly, and he could understand the blond's reasons; at least rationally. Everybody left him, in one way or the other. But he didn't want to lose Justin now. He couldn't. Because if he allowed something like this to happen, he would never forgive himself, and he would live forever knowing that this time, the cliff he had pushed the blond from had been too high, too much.
But…what could he do to stop the avalanche he had created? He couldn't just knock on Justin's door and say 'hey, forgive me, I won't close myself again, I won't push you away, stay with me' and all the bullshit he knew Justin wanted and deserved to hear. He just couldn't. His mouth would refuse to open itself to say something like that, he just knew it. "You're too fucked up, Kinney, did you know that?" he said to himself and sighed.
Looking through the car's window he realized he had returned to the loft. Snorting, he shook his head and decided to park the car. It was sad, really, but he didn't have anywhere else to go. It was better to stay home, because the fact was that, although he didn't want to stay alone, he didn't want other people, strange people around him. The only one he wanted right now was Justin. And he was going to get his man now, he thought decidedly.
"Be a man, you asshole, be a man. Tell him how you feel, you can do it," he murmured, opening the building's door. Taking a deep breath, he decided that talking to Justin, right now, was the best action, the only action possible. He had always been a man of action. Now wouldn't, couldn't be different, because he was not a coward, dammit! He wasn't going to say the beautiful words the blond probably wanted…but if he could organize his thoughts clearly enough to talk calmly to the young man, who knew? Maybe things would get better. Besides, hadn't Justin said that he wasn't giving up?
He knocked at the door, not wanting to invade his partner's privacy by using his own key. But after a few moments it was clear that Justin wasn't in the studio, so Brian slowly opened the door.
"Justin?" he called, looking around. But the place was empty, the windows closed, and his voice echoed through the spacious room. Sighing, he realized that he was late again. He gave a frustrated growl and clenched his fists, but frankly, he couldn't be angry at anyone but himself. There was a big canvas in the middle of the studio with reds and purples, apparently unfinished. There was paint everywhere, including the pillows and the floor, but no sign of Justin anywhere. "Shit, Justin, where the hell did you go to?" Brian murmured, turning around and leaving the studio, closing the door carefully behind him.
A small part of him hoped to see Justin at the loft, but it was a big surprise to find Jennifer Taylor at his door.
"Brian!" she said, smiling as soon as she saw him. "Where have you guys been?" She looked behind him at the stairs, obviously looking for her son.
"Uh…I was just…you know…driving around," he scratched his chin, at a loss of words. He really didn't want to deal with his almost mother-in-law or whatever the hell Jennifer was to him right now.
Jennifer frowned. "Driving around? Um…Isn't Justin with you?"
Brian turned his back on her, fumbling with the keys while he tried to open the door and punched the alarm code. "Shit," he murmured to himself. And to Jennifer, "Uh…No, Justin's…out."
"Obviously he's out," she said, matter-of-factly, "because he's not downstairs and clearly not here."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I…Do you wanna come in?"
"Sure," she said, when he stepped aside to let her in. She looked at Brian, frowning again. He looked strange, almost…detached. She didn't like what she saw. "Are you alright?"
"Fabulous," he smiled, but it was so false that she saw right through it. After all, she knew Brian Kinney for almost eight years now, and they had developed a relationship based on mutual respect and, dared she say it, mutual affection – or so she liked to think. She knew that, behind is tough façade, this man loved her son like no one ever would, and she thanked him for that.
It was clear that something was disturbing Brian, and it was clearer that was something huge.
"So…where's my son?" She asked smiling, attempting to lighten the mood.
Brian's face closed. "No idea. He was downstairs painting. I was…out. Uh…working."
"Working? It's Sunday!" She raised her eyebrows.
"I'm the boss." He said rolling his eyes. "Anyway…when I came back he was gone."
She didn't like the way he said the last part, something in the tone of his voice told her that something was wrong. And maybe her instinct, maybe something she saw in Brian's eyes told her it was not something silly.
"Well, it's a pity…" she said nonchalantly, deciding to test the waters once more. "We…he said he would show me the gallery this afternoon."
Brian shrugged and for a second looked so lost, before the old mask of indifference covered his face, that she almost bit her tongue.
"He…he didn't tell me." He walked to the fridge, opened it, grabbed a bottled of mineral water. "Want some?" he asked Jennifer, who shook her head no. "Look, make yourself at home. Forgive my manners, but you know me, I don't have them, anyway," he half-smiled. "I have a killer headache and I need to…sleep for a while. If you wanna wait for Justin, my humble house is yours, Mother Taylor. But I have no idea if…when he will be back."
"Don't worry about me, I think I'll go home and I'll call him later."
"Try a lot later. I called his cell phone and it's on voicemail," he said in a monotone, but again, for a second, she saw something that looked very much like hurt in his eyes, before the indifference settled on his face again.
"Oh. Well…"she sighed, and dared a quick and light kiss on his cheek. She felt him stiffen at the contact, but he was smiling a little when she looked at him. "Goodbye, Brian."
"Bye, Mother Taylor." He walked her to the door without saying another word. At the threshold she turned to him and asked again, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Don't worry about me," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm always okay. It's just stress. Too much work, you know."
"Bye, then," Jennifer said, going down the stairs without looking at him again, heart clenching a little.
.........
"Hey, Jus!" Michael opened the door smiling at Justin. "I wasn't expecting you today! Are the drawings for the new issue ready? So soon? Or did you forget something here yesterday?"
Justin looked hesitantly at Michael. "Uh, no, Michael, I…I know I should have called first…it's Sunday, you're probably with your family and everything but…" he looked at the floor, uncomfortable.
"Yeah, Ben, Hunter and Ma are here. Jenny's coming too," he said smiling. Then he saw the somber look at Justin's face "What happened?" Michael frowned, putting his hand on Justin's shoulder.
"Nothing important. Look, I'll come back another time, okay?" he shoved his hands in his jacket's pockets and turned to leave, but Michael stopped him grabbing his shoulder again.
"Wait, Justin. I know something happened. Tell me."
"I…I don't want to spoil your Sunday, Michael. Really, it's fine."
"No, it's not," Michael insisted. "You wanna talk?"
Justin nodded. "I need to talk to someone, or my head will explode," he admitted.
"Then you came to the right place. Let's – "
"Sunshine!" Debbie yelled from the living room. Justin flinched and cursed inwardly when Debbie Novotny appeared beside her son at the door, but he tried his best smile anyway, because Justin Taylor was nothing but polite.
"Hey, baby, I missed you so much!" Debbie greeted him, kissing his cheek and leaving it read with her lipstick.
"Hi, Deb," he said. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes! Come in! We're all waiting for Jenny! She's coming to spend the afternoon with us! Mel needs to prepare herself for this big case for court and she needs some peace to study, you know, so I said: hey, Mel, leave little Jenny with her daddies and her Granny!"
"Oh, that's…that's great!" Justin said, already thinking of a way to get out of there without making them suspicious.
"So Sunshine," Debbie said, pinching his cheek, "what are you doing here? Are you alright? You look a little pale."
Michael squeezed Justin's arm discretely and nodded almost imperceptibly at him.
"Uh…I'm fine, really Deb…" Justin said. "I…I just had an idea for Rage and I wanted to discuss with Michael. But don't worry about it; I can come back another time."
"Don't be silly, baby!" said Debbie. Stay here and eat with us! I made ravioli with marinara sauce! And Ben is making, err…tofu or something like that." She frowned at Ben's taste about food.
Justin opened his mouth to give an excuse, but Michael interrupted him. "Please, Ma. Justin wouldn't leave Brian eating alone on a Sunday, would he?" He grabbed Justin's arm and squeezed it lightly again, looking at the blond with a meaningful look.
"Well, then call the asshole! Tell him to come too! Where is he, by the way?" Debbie said. "What are you doing here alone in a glorious Sunday like this?"
"Uh…he's…working," Justin said with a yellow smile. "You know…new campaign."
"That man…"Debbie shook her head, smiling affectionately. "He's always working. What for? He's already rich, eh? How much money can a man spend?" She patted Justin's face and turned to Michael. "Now, honey, where's my new cell phone?"
"It's here, Ma," Michael gave her a very bright object. "I'll get Hunter to teach you how to use it."
"I thought you were going to teach me, baby," she pouted.
"Ma…"Michael rolled his eyes. "Hunter is young and he's so much better with electronic stuff than I am. And I need to go upstairs and talk to Justin. If he, um…had an idea for Rage, it can't wait. Right, Justin?"
"Um..sure!"
"But why can't you talk about Rage later, dear?" Debbie asked.
Michael rolled his eyes again, like the big drama queen he was. "Ma, Rage is responsible for our biggest income, and Ben and I need the money. Hunter is in college and that's not cheap, you know that. Besides," he winked at Justin, "Me and boy wonder here, we created a masterpiece; let us brainstorm in peace. It's what we do best."
Debbie pinched Michael's cheek proudly. "Oh, baby. I'm so proud of you! I always knew you were a genius! Go honey, you're right; you and Justin need some peace to create such a brilliant work like Rage."
"Alright, Ma I'll get Hunter, Justin; then we'll go upstairs. Wait here, I won't take long." Michael left the living room.
"Look, Sunshine!" Debbie said, practically shoving the cell phone at Justin's face. It was, of course, very pink, decorated with what looked like little diamonds. Lots of them. "Isn't it beautiful? Michael picked it himself. He said I'm a modern woman, married to a police chief, and I need to be reachable anywhere. I told him that's nonsense, people can call me at the diner anytime, or at home, but he insisted."
"It's, err…great, it's…very much like you, Debbie," said Justin, whose eyes hurt just to look at the bright thing.
"Oh, I know. Isn't my Michael adorable? He knows his mother's taste so well!" she said with a huge smile.
"Yeah, he's such a devoted son," said Justin, praying that Michael would come back soon and rescue him. "Huh…Who will you call first?"
"Oh, dear God…who should I call?" She asked. "Kiki is with her new beau out of town, Darren's busy too…and I don't even remember the rest of my friend's numbers! My memory is playing tricks on me lately. Maybe I've been working too much…"
"Why don't you call my mother?" Justin suggested. "I can give you the number. I bet she would be delighted to talk to you."
"Yeah! I need to tell her about PFLAG's meeting next week!" She gave the pink bright thing to Justin, who eyed it as if it would bite him. "Make the call, honey; Hunter can teach me how to use it later.
Justin nodded, trying to smile, and picked the cell phone. He dialed his mother's number and gave the phone to Debbie, relieved to see Michael coming back, followed by a not very pleased Hunter.
"Hey," Hunter complained, annoyed, when he saw Debbie holding the phone. "She's already using it! Why did you take me from my beer and my chicken wings for, huh?"
"Sorry Hunter, I made the call for her; she was so anxious to use the phone… " Justin mumbled, while Michael pulled him up the stairs by the arm and Debbie's excited and very loud voice could be heard saying. "Jennifer, dear! Guess what the best son in the whole world gave me!"
…
Michael led Justin to the little studio, where he used to create Rage's stories and Ben used to prepare for his classes. It was small but cozy. They sat at the couch facing each other.
Michael gave Justin a little smile. "Okay. No one will disturb us here. I asked Ben to keep everyone busy downstairs. Ma is with her new toy and Hunter's new girlfriend will be here soon, so don't worry. Now…what happened?" he put his hand on Justin's arm in a comforting gesture.
Justin opened his mouth to talk but no sound came out. He just shook his head sadly.
"You said you needed to talk," Michael said softly. "So talk. I'm truly honored that you came to me."
Justin shrugged. "We're friends."
"We certainly are," Michael smiled, "although I admit I didn't make it easy for you when we met."
"Neither did I," Justin said.
"Yeah, well…we were…always competing for something, weren't we?"
"Can't imagine what could be," Justin said.
Michael blushed a little. "Your problem…It's…about Brian, isn't it?"
Justin smiled sadly. "It's always about him, Michael. Sometimes I feel that every fucking thing in my life always is about him."
"What happened this time?"
"What always happens: he pushed me away again. And you know what? This time, I've had enough. I feel so fucking tired…I can't take this anymore."
Michael paled. "What do you mean 'you can't take this anymore', Justin? You're not leaving him, are you?"
"Fuck, Michael, no! I'm just saying I need to do something to change it once and for all! Why do you people always assume I'm leaving Brian?" Justin said, exasperated.
"Um…Because that's what you always do when you're not happy about your relationship?" Michael said. Immediately he widened his eyes and covered his mouth with his hand. "Shit, Justin, I'm sorry…I shouldn't…I mean, It's not that I think that you…oh, shit, I should've kept my big mouth shut. Again."
"It's okay," Justin said sadly. "Maybe I deserved that."
"No, you didn't. And I'm sorry for saying that, I really am," Michael said, and he sounded so sincere that it was impossible for Justin to take offense at what he had said. "I know that there are things about you two, lots of them, that I know nothing about…and it's not my place to judge," he said hesitantly. "Sometimes even I can act like a grownup. I know that if…If you left him, I'm sure it wasn't an easy decision for you and I'm sure you had your reasons, because I know you love him."
"I do," Justin nodded, feeling his eyes watering a little. "Very much."
"Yeah. It's easy to see, you know? Your eyes lighten up when you're together."
Justin sniffed a little. "You think so? Am I that obvious?"
"You know you are, boy wonder," Michael nudged him trying to lighten the mood. "But he's as obvious as you. He loves you and what's funny about it, is that he tries so hard to hide it, to play the tough guy, that everyone can see that he's crazy about you."
"I wish he believed I'm crazy about him too."
"Tell me what happened, Justin. If you want to, that is."
So Justin told him everything, starting with Claire's distressed call two days ago asking him to pick up Brian at her house and Brian's silent behavior, and the next day when he left to see Gus. Justin talked about the surprise he had when he came back home the night before and found Brian nearly overdosed with painkillers, his strange words about being selfish and just like his father, and how he had spent almost the whole night watching worriedly while Brian slept at the floor. Finally, Justin told Michael about the talk they'd just had that morning, when they'd said things to each other that maybe they should have said a long time ago, maybe not; and how it all sounded now, after all this time, like accusations and regrets.
"I know he was stressed after the talk with his mother," Michael said. "She has this effect on him. Maybe that's why he took all those painkillers the next day. He always has a headache when he's stressed."
"Nah," Justin shook his head. "The next morning he was in a shitty mood, but he was fine. When I got home at night, he was a mess, Michael. I have the feeling that something happened yesterday."
"Something worse than Joan Kinney?" Michael snorted.
"Who the hell knows? He never tells me anything! He just puts all those walls around him and I have to climb them. Shit, I'm getting sick of it. But something happened yesterday, I can tell."
"What are you going to do now? Talk to him?"
Justin sighed. "As if it would work. Been there, done that. I'm scared, Michael. I don't want those things we said to each other hanging over our heads. I don't want it to tear us apart." Justin sniffed again and blinked several times, refusing to let a tear drop. "You know what's worse? I believe that he loves me, but he has no idea how much I love him. It's like part of him doesn't believe that I want him, and only him, for the rest of my life. I don't care if it sounds corny, if he thinks I'm a silly romantic little fag; it's the way I feel…so why the hell can't he believe it? Why does he push me away?"
Michael shook his head and grimaced. "You know a lot about the Brian Kinney Operation Manual. But there's another manual called Brian Kinney: This is Your Life. And this one you haven't read the most important part. Well, the very first chapters, even I missed. But I was there when some of the earlier ones were written, and…shit, let me tell you, they weren't pretty chapters, Justin."
"So tell me about them…" Justin pleaded. "Help me to understand him, because today I…I just felt like we're slipping away from each other and I can't let that happen! I promised him that I wasn't giving up on us, but I don't know what to do! Help me understand why he keeps doing this to me and to himself. Why does he shut me out? I need to do something, anything, or I'll go crazy!"
Michael got up and walked to the window. The sky was beautiful, not a single cloud outside. With his back to Justin, he stated to talk slowly. "I feel like I'm invading his privacy talking about his life like this. Like I'm doing it behind his back. He never asked me not to, but…it was always a silent agreement between us, you know?
"You're his best friend, Michael. I'm just asking for your advice, not to betray his confidence. God, I don't want to know his innermost secrets; I don't need that. I just want some clues, because I'm in the dark here; I don't know where I'm stepping anymore. Does he want me to keep trying? Does he want me to go? How can I help him? How can I help us?"
Michael looked at Justin's anguished face and sighed. "You really love him, don't you? I suppose there's no harm in telling you a few things…But promise you will never…God, Justin, Brian's life in his parent's home was…like hell." Michael looked so sad that Justin felt a pang in his heart. "And even I don't know everything about it. Sometimes he just refused to talk. That's…That's why I always forgave, excused and defended every single shitty thing he did."
Michael sighed. It was hard to talk about his best friend's life like that, even to Justin. But he knew it was for a good cause, and he loved Brian too much. He needed to help him.
"We were just kids, stupid teenagers, but I…started noticing that even when he spent too much time in my place, I mean until midnight or something like that, his mother never called. If he got detention after school, his parents never asked the teachers why. And the long sleeved shirts he used sometimes, even when it was hot as hell…like he was…hiding something. When Ma and Uncle Vic got to know him better, they kind of adopted him, even if we never talked about it. Brian was pretty popular at school; girls – and some boys too – threw themselves at his feet, and I always thought 'what the hell is a guy like that doing with a dumb guy like me?' But when it was time to go home, my unusual family and I…we were the only ones I knew who seemed to be there for him, because his family...they just didn't seem to care what happened to him."
"Jesus," Justin murmured.
"Yeah, well." Michael sighed then raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "Don't think I'm exaggerating. Well, maybe I am, a little. I know I'm a big drama queen; I'm very much my mother's son. But…you have no idea of how many times he came to our place to escape his father's wrath, sometimes in the middle of the night. A couple of times we even took him to ER. One Christmas, his father broke his arm and two ribs. Ma always wanted to tell the cops or something about child abuse, I don't know, but Brian wasn't a child. At fourteen he was taller than all of us. And the next day Brian acted as if nothing had happened and refused to talk about it."
"Knowing him, it was probably his defense mechanism…" Justin said almost to himself.
"When Brian wasn't at my place, he was at school or fuck knows where…We had this place, an old warehouse we used to go to talk about bullshit, read stolen magazines with naked guys and smoke…sometimes I think he spent the whole day there when he wasn't at my place. I guess that…that if it wasn't for me, Ma and Uncle Vic, he would probably have had ended up in jail or God knows what else."
"He said you always spent the whole day together."
"Yeah," Michael smiled fondly. "We did our homework at the diner and Ma always made him eat. He was always so tall and skinny." He frowned a little. "I remember that once I was at his house – one of the rare times, I hated to go there – and his mother was complaining that he had drank all the milk; that he always ate too much. I thought 'what the fuck?' Brian ate too little, he still does. Then his mother said that eating too much was a sin, when there were so much people with nothing to eat. I was speechless, because you know Ma, she always makes sure we all eat a lot, doesn't she? Uncle Vic even thought Brian was anorexic for some time, but no, he was never weak or bony. It was just the way he was raised. His father That's why he's so picky about his food. I guess."
"God, I wonder what must have happened there that nobody has any clue about. They seemed pretty crazy .But…from what I heard here and there…his parents used to drink a lot. Isn't drinking and slapping your children a sin too?" Justin commented, puzzled.
"Well, talk about hypocrisy," Michael said smirking. "Brian's mother's a religious fanatic. His father was a loser, a drunken man, who spent all his free time bowling or playing cards – God bless his soul, I hope he rests in peace and all, but he was all that – and I wonder how they even had children."
"God, I can't understand how a mother and a father can do something like that with their own children."
"Did you know that his father told him that Brian was the one who should be dying of cancer, when Brian came out to him?"
"God," Justin whispered. "I can only imagine what he must have felt when found out he really had cancer."
"Like he deserved it or something fucked up like that?"
"Yeah."
"What I'm trying to say with all this, Justin, is that, you and I…we have different notions of family when compared to Brian. I was raised without a father, but I had Uncle Vic and a very loving and over-protective mother to compensate for it. And I could always fantasize that my father was a cool guy, who had died but would have loved to raise me, you know? Of course later I found out that he was a…you know, a drag queen," Michael said, blushing furiously.
"Um, yeah…but he's the best," Justin attempted a smile.
"Well, anyway…you, you were raised in the country club."
"Doesn't mean anything," Justin said annoyed.
"Yeah, but the point is…Your parents loved you. They gave you love and self-confidence when you were a child. Sure, your father acted like shit when you came out, but they say that the first years are the ones that count the most when forming our personalities, right? And your father probably went to all you school plays, played baseball with you in the backyard, gave you presents when you got an A plus…He was a good father until he found out you're gay."
"I hate to defend Craig, but you're right," Justin mumbled.
"But Brian, he…he never had that. He grew up in a place where the word 'family' was almost strange. I never saw his mother at any meeting at school, at any school play; she only attended his graduation and left in a hurry saying she had a meeting at church. His father and sister never showed up."
"Claire is a good person," Justin said.
"Um…I don't know her that much. When I met Brian, he and Claire were already strangers."
"She's not a bad person. She and Brian have been getting closer, and I think this may be good for both of them. I think Claire just spent too much time with her mother and became a little like her, but…she's learning to think on her own now."
"It's good that at least someone in that family cares for him," Michael shook his head. "Look, I'm not a smart guy. I own a comic book shop, for God's sake; but if there's one thing I have a degree in, is Brian Kinney. It's more than…twenty years of friendship – God, am I that old? Anyway, sometimes I'm wrong, but this time I know I'm not. If you want to stay with him, there are some things you need to learn to put in your manual."
"Like what?"
"He grew up feeling worthless, Justin, because that's what they made him believe. You and I know he's not, all his friends know it, but no matter how much we tell him, he always believes he's not good enough. He's the best at what he does, fucking hell, he's a genius in advertising, he looks and dresses better than anyone, and he knows that, he takes pride in it. He's the best in bed, almost a legend – from what I was told," Michael said, blushing again, when Justin raised an eyebrow.
Justin wondered for a brief second if Ben had said something to Michael about the time when he's slept with Brian, and if they always said that Michael was the only one Brian hadn't fucked, did it mean Brian had fucked Emmett and Ted? He shook his head slightly to send these bizarre thoughts away and imagined if he wasn't going crazy for thinking about something like that in a moment when he felt his heart aching so much for the man he loved like nothing else I his life. Maybe this was his personal defense mechanism.
"But," Michael continued, "When it comes to feelings…His bravado, his posture, his cocky nonchalance, are all to cover his fear of not being good enough. If you ask me, I think his biggest fear is to love someone and not being loved back. He's a great person, but he's completely insecure when it comes to feelings, because he always thinks someone will think he's worthless, like his parents did."
"Fuck, Michael, what can I do? Do I keep trying? Do I give him space? I don't know what to do. If I keep trying I fear he'll think it's too much and back off, run away. If I give him space, he'll think I'm giving up."
"I don't know. I can't tell you what to do, Justin. Who am I to know? But I think that…if you give him space, if you distance yourself from him, it will just confirm what he thinks about himself: that he's not worth the trouble, you know? That you're giving up because it's too much effort."
"He's worthy, I don't care how much effort or how much time it takes; but shit, how do I convince him of that?"
"I'm not sure he'll ever change, Justin. You need to know that. Maybe he'll be like that forever. Brian is over thirty. He's been living alone for a long time; he left his home at eighteen for college and never came back if he could avoid it, always took jobs during summer so he didn't have to go home. But what I know is this: You were the only one who was able to break the ice. Ever. You have done so much already, but there's still a lot to do. It's up to you if you still wanna try."
"I can't stop trying. He's all I want." Justin took a deep breath, making a decided face and nodding to himself. "I'm not giving up. I just need to figure out what to do."
Michael sighed and smiled. "You know, I idolized Brian for a long, long time. Part of me still does. He was all that I wanted to be. He had the looks, the courage, the intelligence and the right posture. He was shameless of being gay." Michael shrugged. "I was just the average guy. I thought he was perfect. Shit, I still think he's perfect, in his fucked up way, even with all his bullshit. When I fell in love with Ben, I…I started to realize that there's life beyond Brian. For me, I mean. But I still worried, because…I thought I was the only one who could ever understand him."
Justin looked at him a little startled, because for the first time, Michael was kind of admitting that he had loved Brian, and he never thought that he would see the day when he and Michael Novotny would have a mature conversation like that.
"But I'm not worried about that anymore, you know?" Michael continued. "You, Justin…you know he's not perfect and you love him anyway. You love him as messed up as he is. You're exactly what he needs, because you see the real person, not the legend or the image he likes to project, and you still want him. I'm…happy that he found you. I want him to be happy with you. He'll always be my best friend. I love Brian, I really do. Always have, always will."
After a few seconds of silence, Justin found his voice. "He's lucky to have a friend like you."
"I just wish there was something I could do for the both of you."
"You already did, Michael. You have no idea how much you've just helped me." Justin stiffened a yawn. "God, I'm tired. I barely slept last night." He made a motion to get up.
"Why don't you stay here for a while?" Michael asked.
"No way, with everybody downstairs, I couldn't. I don't really want to see anyone, you know?"
"Don't be silly, stay here, sleep a little on the couch; it's comfortable. You look exhausted. I'll bring you something to eat, then you can lock the door and no one will disturb you."
Justin considered Michael's offer for a few seconds. The idea of going home right now was totally unappealing. He was physically and emotionally drained. He needed to rest before he could decide what to do.
"Okay," he accepted. "But, Michael," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "Remind me again, when you got so smart? My jaw almost dropped at your line of thought."
"Well, I happen to have a brain! Besides, living with Ben has benefits others than sex, you know? We talk a lot. Not about Brian exactly, but about almost everything. He makes me think. He makes me wanna know things. He sometimes reads for me, especially when he's writing, and asks for my opinion. It makes me feel important, you know?"
"Yeah. Besides," Justin added, "people say age gives you wisdom."
"Hey! Brian is as old as I am!"
"You're a few months older. And he's not old."
"Yeah. Big difference." Michael rolled his eyes. "Let me go downstairs, see if Jenny has arrived yet." He headed for the door but before he opened it, Justin called him.
"Michael? You're not just an average guy. You're a great friend and a wonderful person. I can't thank you enough."
Michael smiled and quietly closed the door behind him.
.............
Brian woke up startled. Someone was banging at the door. Already annoyed, he got up reluctantly, knowing that it couldn't be Justin, because the blond would've used his own key. He padded through the loft, not bothering to put on a shirt. Half the male population of Pittsburgh had already seen him naked, so he guessed he was pretty decent in his jeans. Whoever it was would have to deal with that.
"Did we have an appointment?" he asked, arching an eyebrow when he saw Debbie with a large bowl of what only could be some very greasy food. "And please, tell me that you brought pot."
"Not this time, asshole," she smiled affectionately. "You know you can't. I brought only food and myself."
"Oh God, I don't deserve this," he said, rolling his eyes. "And to what do I owe the honor?" Brian smiled sarcastically.
"I was told my son needed me," Debbie said simply.
"Michael's not here," Brian deadpanned.
"I meant you, kiddo," she said softly.
"Shit," Brian said almost to himself, trying to dismiss the strange lump in his throat at her words. "You're not playing fair. You're making me let you in."
"Oh, were you planning not to?" She arched an eyebrow.
He stepped aside and Debbie strolled inside. Brian was not a man to get all emotional about some corny thing like what she had just said, but Debbie sometimes had the ability to say the right thing at the wrong time – when he was most vulnerable, for example… – not that he would ever admit that.
"Have you already eaten?" she headed for the kitchen area and put the bowl on the counter.
"No. And why are you always trying to stuff my stomach with food?" he complained. "You know I have to keep my perfect body just like this. Fat is completely unattractive."
"Bullshit. There's nothing resembling "fat" on you. Besides, it's almost three PM and you must be hungry, for Christ's sake! You're human, aren't you?"
"Some people have been trying to prove that, but it still remains to be seen."
"Asshole," she said, smiling, unceremoniously opening a drawer and grabbing two forks, like she always did when she came to visit.
"Nosy," he said back. "What the fuck are you doing here anyway? Don't you have some better place to go?"
"I was at Michael's, and I was talking to Jennifer on my new cell phone – "
"Oh, the queer's mothers net. It explains everything." He walked to the bowl on the counter, opened it and frowned. "What the hell is this?"
"Ravioli with marinara sauce."
"I hate it." He wrinkled his nose. "It must have a million calories here."
"You love it. And I'm starving. Come on, let's eat. As I was saying, after I talked to Jennifer, I just grabbed some food and left. I didn't have lunch yet."
"Look, I don't know what Mother Taylor told you, but – "
"Well. Let me see. First, Justin came to Michael's house looking like a little lost kid. Then, Jennifer told me that she saw you, and you looked like you just had lost your puppy. I just put two and two together and here I am."
"So he was at Michael's?" Brian said, barely containing his anxiety.
"Yeah. And he didn't look happy, just like you're looking right now. I pretended not to notice, of course, but I'm not stupid."
Brian rolled his eyes, impatient. "Stay out of it, Deb."
"Look, Brian, I care a lot about you two. All I want is to – "
"Interfere, as always?"
"Maybe. But it's always good to hear another opinion…someone from outside the problem."
"You can hardly be considered 'from outside', Deb."
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Come on, let's eat," she said, pulling him by the arm and grabbing the bowl and the forks with the other hand, a little surprised when he followed her with no resistance. She sat on the sofa and he sat on the floor beside her. She offered him the bowl and he eyed the food suspiciously, but grabbed a fork and picked some of the ravioli.
"Not bad," he said, still munching.
"Now, tell me, kiddo," Debbie said softly. "Did you and Sunshine have a fight?"
Brian sighed. He didn't want to say anything, not really. But Debbie always had the power of making him talk. "It wasn't a fight. It was…I don't know what it was."
"So…if it wasn't a fight, what happened?" She pushed, because she could see his reluctance, and because she knew she could. Surprisingly, Debbie Novotny was one of the few people Brian Kinney listened to.
Brian knew that if he didn't say anything she wasn't going to give up. So he just gave up himself. Before he knew it, he was spilling everything to her almost in one breath. "I pushed him away. I was pissed at Joan and at…other people; I had some…problems going on and I didn't tell him anything. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. I just… shut him out. He…didn't like it and he called me on my shit, so I…said some things I shouldn't. I didn't wanna say them, they just slipped and…then he said he needed to get away from me to think about it all." He finished, a little astonished with himself, for talking so much without a lot of insistence from her. Maybe he was losing his mind.
But Debbie wasn't satisfied. She still prodded and insisted, like the persistent woman that she was; and because she wasn't doing it out of curiosity. She wanted to help her boys, but to do so, she needed to know what was happening. "Think about what?"
And…surprisingly, Brian saw himself answering again. Well, almost. "What we said to each other." He didn't want to give her any details. It was too personal. "About us. And Justin, he…asked me to do the same. To think about what I want to do about us."
"Hum…" Debbie gave him some minutes of silence while she ate her food, thinking. After a while, she asked, "And did you think about it?"
"Can't." he murmured.
"Why not?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Brian dropped his fork, got up abruptly and started pacing in front of her. "I can't, okay? I just can't put my thoughts in order. Every time I start to think, my head just…" he looked at her helplessly.
"Okay, kiddo," Debbie said, raising her hands. "Calm down."
"I'm calm, shit! I don't need anyone, okay? I'm perfectly fine, so could you please leave me alone? I don't wanna talk about it, alright? If you came here to interfere, well, you already did. Thanks for your visit, but I guess I already know your opinion: I should talk to Justin, I shouldn't push him away so much, you hate to see him hurt, I'm breaking the poor kid's heart and yadda yadda yadda…"
"He's not a kid. Justin's a man."
"Whatever."
"Look, Brian…"
"No, Deb. You look. I'm tired of you people coming here without invitation. Always calling me on my shit; always telling me what to do. Stop judging me, okay?"
Debbie lost her patience. Her Italian blood wasn't cold, after all. "Listen, asshole, if you just could stop acting like a son of a bitch, you could realize that I didn't say anything about you hurting Justin: you did. And I didn't judge you: you judged, and apparently blamed yourself."
"So what the fuck are you doing here? We've already established that I'm a piece of shit, so can you please go? God, can't I have at least a little peace in my own home?" he said exasperated.
"You're not a piece of shit, even though you're acting like one!" Debbie got up as well, facing him. "You're a stubborn man that, right now, needs a mother, for God's sake! And that person is me, Brian! Can't you see that?"
Brian looked at her, eyes wide, startled. Then he just sat in the sofa, looking at the floor, as if all his strength had left him.
Debbie stayed standing in front of him for a few minutes, hands on her hips, just watching him taking deep breaths, trying to regain some control of himself. Then, slowly, and totally uncharacteristically for a noisy woman like her, she sat beside him in silence, waiting.
"I'm tired, Deb," he said with a whisper after what seemed a long time.
"I know, kiddo, I know," Debbie said.
Slowly, she pulled his head to her shoulder and they stayed like that for a while, saying nothing. He offered no resistance, and it was really a proof of how tired Brian was.
"If I could just shut my thoughts for a while…if I could just stop them…sometimes they're too much. I fucking hate feeling like this, like there's nothing I can do. Fuck, I'm not weak; I'm not easy to break. What the hell is going on?"
Debbie didn't know if he was talking to her or to himself. But she answered anyway. "Yeah, you're not weak. You were always a tough kid. You're one of the strongest persons I know. But Brian, everybody has a breaking point, and I know where yours comes from. With you it's all about control and power, but somehow now it's not enough, am I right? You realized you need more, kiddo. And it means you're growing up."
He didn't answer; just kept breathing in and out, head resting on her shoulder.
"Growing up is scary for everyone," she said softly.
"Fuck, I'm not scared of anything. I'm not a child and I don't need anyone's pity! Not even yours, Deb!" he said with an annoyed tone, and started to raise his head, but she held it firmly where it was.
"That's not pity, asshole. That's called love," she said as softly as she could. "This concept may sound alien to you, but I love you like a son. So please, listen to me a little. Let me give you my two cents, because I do care about you. Will you listen?"
Brian stiffened beside her for a while, but then he sighed, and she knew he would listen, because he relaxed against her once more.
"You need help. Maybe…a psychologist, psychiatrist…whoever it takes to make you feel better. I don't understand how this shit works, but I know you can't do it on your own."
She felt, more then saw, Brian open his mouth to protest, so Debbie ruffled his hair in the messy way she knew he hated, just because she knew it would made him shut his mouth for a few more seconds. She still had some things to say.
"Before you say I think you're crazy or fucked, listen to me: I don't. Jack and Joan, they were the fucked up ones, and they had a big influence on you and your sister. You need to get rid of them, once and for all. It's time to let them go, leave their ghosts behind. Please, kiddo…you need help."
He didn't answer at first, and Debbie thought, dismayed, that Brian had put up is walls again. She feared he would misinterpret her comment about seeking professional help. She didn't think he was weak; just someone whose parents had messed with his head so much that now he was tired of pretending to be inside the strong person he was on the outside.
"I'll think about it. But…I can't promise anything," he whispered.
"Well…that's a start," she said, smiling to herself.
"Do you think that…this would help? That I would stop…pushing people…him…away?" Brian asked, sounding almost embarrassed for showing such hesitancy in front of someone.
"Maybe. But you shouldn't do it for Justin, Brian. Do it for yourself. You must be your main reason to do it. Because you're almost…"Debbie shook her head. "…breaking, baby. I don't wanna see that happening to you, okay?"
He didn't answer, but nodded slowly. They still didn't move for a while, the food forgotten. Brian felt totally relaxed with his head against Debbie's shoulder. He felt…comforted. It was strange, because he could count in one hand the moments he had felt that way. But he felt as if she was watching over him.
He dozed off a little, and Debbie carefully rested his head on some pillows, leaving him on the sofa. Smiling affectionately, she thought of the skinny kid with huge hazel eyes that Michael had brought home one afternoon proclaiming to be his best friend, more than twenty years ago, and she whispered, "Be well, kiddo."
"Thanks, Ma," Brian whispered back.
Debbie grabbed the remaining ravioli, put it in the fridge as quietly as she could, put the dirty forks in the sink, opened the heavy metal door and closed it behind her, leaving Brian alone the loft again.
Justin woke up with Michael knocking quietly at the little studio's door. Looking through the window, he saw it was probably late afternoon, and that he had slept for several hours. After their talk, Michael had taken him some sandwiches, but Justin had eaten very little. After that, he had locked the studio's door like Michael had suggested and slept on the couch almost immediately.
............
"Hey, Michael." He opened the door, rubbing his eyes.
"You really needed to rest, huh?" Michael asked smiling.
"Yeah. Thanks a lot."
"Don't mention it. Listen, I came to ask if you want a ride. Mel came back to take Jenny home, and since you live near the girls, I thought she could take you home too. I know my house is pretty far from the loft going by bus."
"Yeah, that's great. Let's go."
They went down the stairs together, and found Mel at the living room talking to Ben, who was cradling a sleeping Jenny in his arms.
"I'll put her on the car," said Ben smiling. "She's exhausted. She spent practically the entire afternoon running."
"Thanks, Ben," said Mel. "Hey, Justin! Let's go, then?"
"Hi, Mel," the blond answered, looking around. "Where's Debbie? Isn't she going with us?"
"Oh, my mother is unpredictable," Michael answered. "One minute she was on the phone with your mother, and the next thing I knew, she was grabbing a bowl, putting some ravioli in it and calling a cab. Then she left, saying she had someone to help, and that it couldn't wait."
Justin shrugged. "Go figure. There must be something to do with PFLAG, if Mom was involved."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Let's go, Justin? I know it's still early, but I haven't seen Gus all day," Mel smiled at Michael and kissed him on the cheek. "Bye, Michael. See you."
…
In the car, Mel and Justin talked about frivolities for a while. She asked him about the gallery, he asked her about her job and about the kids, but all the time, Justin had the impression that Mel wanted to say something important to him.
They were almost two blocks from her house, and the car stopped at the red light.
"Listen, Mel, you can leave me in front of your house. Jenny is sleeping, the loft isn't far from here and it's still early; I can walk. Besides, I want to stop at Liberty Diner and grab some burgers to take home. I'm starving."
"You sure you don't mind?"
"Course not. I really need to stretch my legs. I slept the whole afternoon at Michael's couch."
She frowned a little at that comment. "Okay," she said, stopping in front at her house. "Here we are."
"You want me to help you with Jenny?"
Mel smiled relieved. "Yeah, thanks, Justin. She's getting heavier each passing day; I can barely carry her, especially when she's asleep."
"Okay," he said, and started to open the door, but he felt Mel's hand on his arm.
"Huh…Justin…how's Brian?"
Justin frowned, looking at her questioningly, because Mel rarely asked about his partner. "He's…fine I guess. I didn't see him much yesterday."
"Um…I hope he didn't get too upset after his…argument with Lindsay yesterday."
Justin felt his insides turning to ice. "Yeah," was all he managed to say.
"I love Lindsay, but…she can be pretty harsh when she wants to…and the things she said to Brian yesterday…God. I'd never seen her say something like that to him; especially about Gus."
"Gus," Justin repeated like a robot, suddenly the pieces of the puzzle coming together perfectly inside is head.
"Well…for what's worth…I'm sorry if it caused you any kind of problems. Knowing Brian, he…must have been shit to deal with after that." Mel raised both her hands in an excusing gesture. "I'm sorry, I don't want to be nosy…I just want you to know that I don't agree with her, believe it or not."
Justin tried his best to maintain his face as neutral as he could, but he was boiling inside. He just hoped Lindsay was home, because he needed to see her. Now. "Don't worry about it; everything's fine. Let's take Jenny inside, Mel, before we wake her up with all his talk," he said, as gently as he could manage.
...
"The house was silent when Justin entered carrying little Jenny in his arms, followed by Mel, who was carrying the girl's toys and dirty clothes. There was no one in the living room and the light of the setting sun was penetrating through the gauze curtains, reflecting in the little prisms by the window. Justin smiled looking at them; they could only belong to Gus, because they had the shapes of little stars and comets, and it was no secret that the little boy wanted to be an astronaut. The sun made the light reflected by the prisms dance across the room, and yet Justin found the place strangely melancholic.
"Justin, could you put her in bed for me?" Mel whispered. "I'll just put these toys on the shelves and the clothes in the laundry. I'll be right with you."
"Sure, Mel," Justin whispered back. Jenny was a cute little girl and not heavy at all, but he imagine that for a petite woman like Melanie, carrying a sleeping girl like her would be more than tiresome.
As he went up the stairs, he wondered where Lindsay could be. He had been so anxious to confront her back in the car, but suddenly, he wasn't so eager to see her anymore. He was tired of fighting. All he wanted was a peaceful life with Brian – well, maybe not so peaceful; more like full of sex, funny moments, dancing at Babylon, things like that; and painting, drawing, doing anything he could to express himself in his art. Was it so much to ask for?
When he pushed the door to Jenny's room, as silently as he could, there was Lindsay, near the wardrobe folding some clothes. She looked surprised when she saw him and opened her mouth to speak, but he said "Shh…" indicating with is head the sleeping girl in his arms. Lindsay nodded and pulled the covers so he could put Jenny on the bed. Justin stayed silently looking while she took the girl shoes' off and rearranged the covers around her.
Silently, he turned and left the room, starting to go down the stairs, conscious of Lindsay right behind him. When he reached the hall, all he wanted was to just go home. After all, he didn't know exactly what Lindsay had said to Brian, but judging from what Mel had said, it had something to do with Gus. Justin knew how much influence Lindsay had on Brian, and if she had used Gus to hurt him…It was just a suspicion, of course, but it was the worst form of hurt he knew.
Lindsay touched his arm lightly. "Justin…" and just like that, in the blink of an eye, he knew he couldn't just go home and leave things like that.
"What do you want, Lindsay?" he asked, not turning to face her.
"Um…I just…want to know how you are. Is…everything alright?"
Calmly and as slowly as he could, Justin turned to her, his blood boiling inside, but his expression as neutral as he could manage. He had learned from the best, after all. "Not so good, Lindsay. You see, after your little talk with Brian yesterday, he pushed me away again. So I hope you're happy now, you got what you wanted. Say goodbye to Mel for me." He turned to leave, but Lindsay's grip on his arm only got stronger.
"Me, happy? What do you mean? It's not like I did something deliberately to harm your relationship, Justin! You're not being fair!"
"Oh, really?" he looked pointedly at her hand on his arm and she removed it awkwardly. "I remember that I said to you, not too many days ago, that if Brian pushed me away again because of something you said or did, after all we've been through…you didn't need to talk to me ever again. That's exactly what happened. So I have nothing to say to you, Lindsay. Goodbye."
"Oh, Justin, stop this!" she pleaded, and if Justin didn't knew her, he would believe that she was about to cry. "You're acting like a child! Come on, let's talk, please! I care too much about you to lose your friendship!"
Justin sighed tiredly. "What about Brian's friendship, Lindsay? Since when you did you decide that you don't give a shit about it?"
"Don't talk like that! I love Brian, you know that!"
"You have a strange way of demonstrating your love, Lindsay." Justin knew he was walking in the dark here. Brian had told him nothing about the talk. But it had something to do with Gus, and it had obviously hurt a lot because of last night's events. So all he had to do was to keep playing, acting as if he knew everything that was going on.
"It has nothing to do with love or friendship! It's about trust…Oh, you don't understand. Today he wants Gus to have his name…tomorrow he may be fighting with me and Mel for his custody!"
Justin gasped. "What? You know that Brian would never do that!"
"Brian had already done lots of things that he swore he would never do…" she replied.
Justin narrowed his eyes. "You're really unbelievable…I hope you're not meaning that one of those things he swore he would never do is being in a relationship."
Lindsay blushed. "Of course not! He's just not…consistent."
'But his money is consistent enough, eh?' Justin wanted to say, but he didn't. "Don't use Gus to hurt him Lindsay. It's too low."
"I'm not using Gus, but I'm sorry, I can't do what he wants."
"Then I'm sorry too…because I'm not letting you hurt him like that."
She covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Justin…Don't say you're against me too! Are you threatening me?"
Justin gave her a humorless little laugh. "With what, for God's sake? What do I have to threaten you with? Your job? You're safe with that, Sidney loves you, and you're competent. And if you think I would ever do that, you know really don't know me. But I'm not going to keep quiet while you hurt the man I love. You're not going to take Gus away from him."
It was Lindsay's time to gasp. "I would never do that!"
"Yeah…so you say, Lindsay. But you too…you've been doing things I never dreamed I would see you doing."
"You're being so unfair…all of you." She sighed sadly, but looked at Justin determined. "You can't make me agree with Brian about this."
"You're right, I can't. I don't even intend to. But I can help him to have plenty opportunities to see his son, because that makes him happy."
As if on cue, Gus came running from the kitchen, a huge smile on his face, followed by Mel.
"Jus!" The boy threw himself at Justin's arms and Justin grabbed him, lifting him as high as he could.
"Hey, starman!" He kissed the chestnut hair. "Are you alright?"
"Yep, not sick anymore!" the boy exclaimed. "Where's Daddy? Didn't he come with you?"
"Uh… no, Gus."
"I thought you guys were going to your parents' today?" Mel asked Lindsay. "Brian did say he would come here, but you asked me to call him this morning and say…"
"Uh, no, my mother had a meeting at the Country Club this afternoon. You and Jenny had already left, and you spent the afternoon at the office…" Lindsay explained awkwardly.
"So you and Gus spent the whole afternoon home…?" Mel asked, puzzled.
Justin caught something in the air between the two women. Something that wasn't being said…And suddenly he had an idea. "Hey, Gus, why don't you come with me to see Daddy? We can go to the Diner, so your Sunday won't be totally boring. What do you say, girls?"
"Um…I don't think so…" said Lindsay. "It's almost night and he was sick yesterday…He has school tomorrow."
"Please, Mommy! I wanna see Daddy! It's not even dark outside!" Seeing that Lindsay was hesitant, he turned to Mel. "Mum? Can I go? Please?"
Mel and Lindsay looked at each other for a few seconds and Justin felt like he could almost touch the tension in the air.
Finally, Mel smiled at Gus. "Sure, baby. And you know what? I'll take you and Justin in car, and your daddy can bring you back home, alright?"
"Yeah! Gus said excitedly, running and hugging her. In a matter of seconds, the boy had already picked his coat and was pulling Mel by the hand through the door. "Bye, Mommy! Love you!" he shouted to Lindsay.
Lindsay looked at Justin, open-mouthed. "Justin, I…"
"Goodbye, Lindsay. See you at the gallery," Justin said, as politely as he could, following Mel and Gus to the car.