A/N I guess I should say the harassing from some people worked. But I don't want to encourage you. Thanks for voting for this fic as the best not yet finished… it may be… someday…

The grip he has on my arm is tight, and I shut my eyes in an effort to hide my wincing.

"Look at me, you fucking faggot!" He shakes me violently, "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Dad! Leave him alone…
"Mom… was Uncle Mark kissing that guy?"

"Get your fucking hands off of him"

"Fucking Faggot…"

All their voices blend in together as I try and will myself to disappear. I am able to control my legs enough to try and sink down to the ground, but my father jerks me straight up again. "I knew… I knew it all along… the way you were always with that fucking camera, never playing sports, and then… and then… Cindy told me you were living with some guy who has AIDS… what the fuck do you think I am, stupid?"

I keep my eyes on the ground. The back of head is pounding and the blood circulating in my arm has stopped. I am losing feeling in my fingers.

"Let me go…"

He finally lets go of me and walks over to Roger, who is being held back by Joe, my brother-in-law who is 6'6" and very big. Have I mentioned that he works with my father, and is like the son he never had? Oh, except that he had me. Roger is sweating and swearing, and trying to break free.

"So is this him? Is this the AIDS infected guitarist that I have heard so much about?"

"Come on kids, let's go see grandma." I watch my sister and shuffle the kids inside, Stevie, the oldest stands and gawks at me. She grabs his arm and pulls him to the door.

My father approaches me again, pushing me repeatedly against the wall. "So this is your life now? This is what you decided to do, huh? Talk to me… explain to me…"

"FUCK YOU!" The words escape my mouth before I think about them. I don't care about him. I feel nothing but despise for the man in front of me. He grabs my collar and slams me against the wall, pressing his body weight against me, and pulling the collar so that I am choking. I feel my face get hot and I try and turn to Roger, but that only makes things worse.

"I said talk to me, you faggot!"

"I… I… can't…" Each word is a struggle as his pull on my collar becomes tighter.

I hear Roger screaming behind him, but I can't look at him. I want to tell him to shut up, he is only making things worse, but I can't. My father does though, actually, he tells Joe to shut him up, and suddenly I hear a groan and no more words from Roger.

My father turns his attention to me, "I won't have a fag for a son. How the hell could you do that with him… in front of the neighbors… in front of the whole world… you disgust me…" he pulls the collar tighter and I am gasping for air now. "So do you have it too? I'm sure you do… I knew it, you are going to end up dying alone, just like you deserve." He gives me one last shove and releases his grip. I fall to the ground, choking and coughing, trying to find the air that I have lost.

I hear the door open, "Charles! What is going on here?" My mother rushes over to us, stopping near Roger, who I now see lying on the ground, holding his groin. Looks like my brother-in-law got in a cheap shot.

"Your son and his boyfriend here, decided to get it on in front of the whole neighborhood, that's what." He walks over me, snarling. "I was just telling Mark that he is no longer my son."

"Mark, is this true?" She looks at me concerned, and I just nod slightly. "Oh," she stands, straightening her dress.

"Mom, let me explain."

"With the garage door open? What about the neighbors? They don't need to see that."

Typical, my mother, always concerned about what the neighbors see and think. Never mind the fact that they could have just seen her ex trying to kill their only son.

I'm still struggling to find my breath, "Look, we were just kissing, it was no big deal…" Maybe if I pretend it wasn't, they will be convinced. Uh, probably not.

"You were just kissing? He had you practically bent over about to fuck you up the ass." My father interrupts.

"Christ no… just…"

"Look, I love your son." Roger finally stands up and walks over to me, bending down and rubbing my back, "I don't want to hide it, but it is new… to both of us…"

"Oh great, we'll fucking send out the wedding invitations!"

"But Mark, what about…" my mother is crying now, "What about AIDS? Honey, do you… No, you can't be gay…"

"NO!" I yell, finally getting my full breath back. "We haven't… look, it is none of your business, ok?"

My mother is completely hysterical; muttering how I was just punishing her while my father is standing next to her glaring at the two of us.

"I still own this house, and I want you out. Now. Don't come back, ever."

I stand up, stepping away from Roger. "Don't worry, I have no desire to."

"I'll go get our stuff…" Roger starts walking away, but my father blocks him.

"Don't worry about it. CINDY!" My sister peaks her head out of the door. "Get your brother's and his girlfriend's stuff together, ok?"

"Sure dad," She looks at me and our eyes meet for a moment. We have never gotten along. She was popular and cheerful and did everything right. She worked extra hard at trying to impress my father, where as I learned a long time ago, that I could never.

I go over to my mom, and try and embrace her, but she backs away, walking into the car. "Mom, I'm sorry, I don't understand why this matters."

She just shakes her head through her tears and walks away from me. My father turns and follows her and before he goes into the house, tells me that I disgust him.

Roger and I are left standing inches apart alone. We look at each other, both afraid to touch, but needing the comfort. Cindy comes out quickly with our bags, and her car keys and offers to drive us to the bus station.

No one says a word during the short drive. She pulls in, we get out, and she pulls away. Her job done, she got rid of me, now she can go on being the perfect daughter, with the perfect husband and the perfect children.

We stand on the sidewalk, not looking at each other. My body is still aching and my head still reeling from the confrontation I sigh loudly and walk into the bus station. He follows me.

I go up to the ticket window, "Two tickets to Port Authority, and when is the next bus?"

Roger grabs my arm, "No, remember, I can't go back there."

I look at him confused, and then remember. "Uh, nevermind…" I say to the kid behind the glass. "Where should we go then?
He steps up to the window, "Uh one ticket to Port Authority and one to wherever the next bus goes."

"Roger, what are you doing?" I turn to the kid again, "No, don't listen to him, hold on a minute."
I pull Roger away and over towards to the door.

"What's going on?" I ask him confused.

"Look, you need to get back to the city. Maureen and Joanne are worried about you, you need to get back to working on your film and find a place."

"No, no, I don't. I can film wherever I am, and I want to go with you." I step closer to him and touch his arm, but he backs away and holds up his hand.

"Don't…"

"Roger, what is going on?"

"Look, I wanted easy. Remember when I said that?" I nod, "This isn't easy, I don't know how I could have been so stupid to think it would be."

"Of course this is easy, you are my best friend, and we love each other."

"No, it doesn't matter. It isn't easy. Look what just happened. Your family just fucking disowned you, doesn't that faze you in the least?"

"Yeah, in a way, but it doesn't matter. I have you, and that is what I care about." I feel like I'm whining, that I'm trying to convince him of something he already knows.

"There will always be assholes bigots like your father, and I don't have the energy to face that. I don't want to."

"Roger, you can't let them keep you from being happy. You told me I make you happy."

"Just go back home, ok? That will make me happy."

"NO!" I raise my voice, but we are the only ones there except for the kid behind the glass window. "You don't mean that."

"I do. Please, Mark, understand." I see a tear in his eye start dripping slowly down his face, I reach up to wipe it away, but he backs up another step. "This is how it has to be. You and me don't make sense after all."

Seeing him cry, causes my own tears to form. "I don't understand, I can't understand."

"Attention Please: The bus to Port Authority will be arriving in two minutes."

"There's your bus."

"I won't get on."

"Mark, just do it. Please?"

"No, you love me, I won't leave you."

"I don't know if I actually do."
I look up at him, "What?"

"I thought I did, after what Mimi said and thinking about it, I mean, I love you, but I don't think I am in love with you."

"Bullshit."

"Just get on the fucking bus." The bus pulls up, and Roger grabs my bag and walks over to the bus. A few people get off, "I'll get in touch when I know where I end up."
"No, Roger, please, come on, this is ridiculous."

"I can't, Mark. Please, for me, just do this. Just let this go."

The driver looks over at us, waiting for us to get on. I grab my bag from Roger and get on the bus. I find a seat on the opposite side of the road, so that I don't have to look at him when it pulls away.

A/N: Sniff sniff… again, I made myself cry… sigh…