Justin felt his phone vibrate. He was running late as it was, and considered ignoring it. Then he checked the caller ID, and saw that it was Brian.
Shit.
"Hello?"
"Where the fuck are you? Everyone's here already."
Justin frowned, confused. They had finished the project yesterday, so he didn't understand. "Brian, what are you talking about? We finished the whole thing last night."
"Yeees, I am well aware of that," Brian said slowly, as if he was talking to a small child. "We're out celebrating at Robbie's. Where the fuck are you?"
"Oh."
"Didn't Chelsea tell you?"
Clearly, she hadn't, but Justin decided to be polite. "No, no she didn't."
"Whatever. Get your ass over here."
"Brian, I can't. I wouldn't have been able to make even if she had told me. I have plans."
"What? Another date who's gonna stand you up? Ditch him instead and come here."
"Dick." Justin laughed in spite of himself. "I have a show that starts in an hour, and I can't bail on that. Let's have drinks another time, ok?"
"A show? You're having show? You never mentioned a show. Where?"
"Brian, relax. It's not art. I mean, it is art, just not visual art. Like I'd have said ok to your project if I had an actual show coming up! This is just a musical-comedy-theatre kind of thing. Sort of. It's just very low-key and casual. No big deal. We'll do drinks another day?"
"Mmm hmmm. I believe I asked you wherethis show was taking place."
Justin briefly wondered if Brian would come to watch, and then decided against it. He wouldn't ditch his team to come see kooky performance art. "Brian, it's ok. No big deal."
"Where is this fucking show happening?"
Oh dear lord.
"Joe's Pub. On Lafayette Street. Look, please don't bother yourself, ok? I'll call you tomorrow…no, I'm at the dentist's. I'll call you day after and we can schedule something. Now I really have to go."
Justin didn't know if Brian had turned up. He doubted it. Joe's Pub was not close to where Brian had been with his team, and it would be the height of rudeness for him to abandon his team just to come and watch Justin perform.
Had he been having an art show, he would have told Brian well in advance. Well, as much advance notice as one could give a person they had known for two weeks, plus a silent eleven days, plus a non-date dinner.
But this was just something he did for fun. It was just singing someone else's songs and making the audience laugh, and occasionally, think. It was kind of corny and embarrassing. Brian had way better things to do.
Justin looked into the audience, but with the dim lights, he couldn't make out anyone's face.
Ok, time to start, he figured.
Brian, or no Brian.
His introduction perfectly encompassed how he had been feeling in the last few weeks, or maybe months, and why he kept at it nevertheless. And the song he was performing. Well. The song spoke for itself, he thought. All his subconscious needs to be with someone, to find that perfect partner he meshed with…and the quiet excitement that maybe…just maybe, he had met that person.
"Optimism. A doctrine that this world is the best possible world. Optimism. An inclination to put the best possible construction upon actions and events, or to assume the best possible outcome. Optimism. Some examples. I brought all these electronic equipment onto the stage tonight, plugged in a few chords, and expected it to function the way it did in my apartment. That is – optimistic. I believe my father did not vote to ban same sex marriage in the last ballot initiative, even though my mother told me that he did. Optimistic. I'm sure I will work enough weeks to get health insurance this year. Optimistic. Nuclear power is safe. Op…op…op…naïve."
Then, while playing the keyboard, he sang Anthony and Johnson's "Hope there's someone".
"This is a great view." Justin reached out, and Brian passed him the joint. "Excellent spring weather, excellent balcony view, and quality weed."
Brian laughed lazily. Justin thought that they both had a nice buzz. He had his sketchbook open, and was sketching Brian in between puffs.
"Well, we could be out drinking and dancing somewhere, but you're the princess that whined about needing an early night. And not drinking. My options were limited."
"I'm not complaining! I'm having fun. Really. And your place is beautiful. I still can't believe you came. You didn't have to."
"You've said that just under a million times already. I liked your singing. It's good. You're a better artist than a singer, but, you're pretty damn good singer."
Justin was too high to blush at the compliment, so he just beamed.
After a while, Brian spoke again.
"You're optimistic about your father? He sounds like an asshole."
"Meh. He is. But hope springs eternal. What am I going to do? Hate him? Hating someone is like drinking poison yourself and expecting them to die."
Brian laughed. "Who are you quoting?"
"No clue. Some Buddhist saying. Or Confucius. It's true, though." Justin pondered. "You hate your father."
"Believe me, he deserves to be hated."
"I believe you. But for a person with no forgiveness in his heart, living is worse punishment than death."
"Who's that from? Tolstoy?"
"'The Karate Kid'. It's a movie from your vintage." That earned him a glare. "Seriously though. You don't deserve to live with hate and anger inside you forever. So. Letting go is a favour you do yourself, not him."
Brian looked at him, but didn't say anything for a while. Justin kept sketching. After several more minutes of silence, Brian spoke.
"How long is your internship for?"
"Literally, until the end of the year. December 31st."
"And then? Are they going to hire you back?"
"I dunno. I think they will. If I want to stay."
"You're thinking of another place?"
"I dunno. New York is nice. It's got nice…neighbourhoods. But I haven't found a community. Difference between the happenstance of urban geography, and actually having a community, a group, a people that I fit in with, at more than a superficial level. I dunno. I'm still debating. What about you? Would you ever go back to Pittsburgh? Closer to your son, your friends?"
"I don't know."
"I'm scared."
"Of the future?" Brian asked.
"No. Of tomorrow. Which, technically, is the future. I have to get a root canal done at ten. It's going to be awful and I'm going to die, except, I'm not so lucky so I'll have to live through it."
Brian burst out laughing. "You're such a princess. Is that why you're too afraid to drink, and wanted an early night? It's a root canal. It's no big deal."
"It IS a big deal. I hate my teeth. I hate my life. I've had one before. It's awful. It's like walking through the valley of death. I think being eaten alive by a crocodile would be less painful and anxiety-inducing. Last time was so bad that my dentist gave me a prescription for Valium. I'm supposed to take it an hour before I go to see him."
"Here. Finish it off. You need it." Brain passed him what was left of the joint. "Who's taking you?"
"Taking me where?" Justin asked blankly.
"To the moon. To the fucking dentist, obviously."
"I don't need anyone. Taking the bus there, and a cab back home when it's done."
"You're going to be drugged out. And you're already freaked out. You should go with someone. And be picked up by someone."
"Or not. I'll be fine." Justin tried to think, but there wasn't anyone he could ask. Or maybe there was, but the joint had dulled his senses. "I'll be fine."
"Of course you will. Come on. Time for you to go to bed."
"I have to go home first." Justin pointed out.
"There's a guest room here that my son and his muncher parents use. Sleep there. I'll take you tomorrow morning."
"But…" One look at Brian's face, and Justin swallowed the rest of his sentence.
It turned out that what Justin had needed in the last two weeks was a root canal.
In more ways than one.
Justin wasn't quite sure how the morning had passed. He looked at his watch, and it was seven in the evening. It was dark, but he could make out that he was in Brian's guest room.
He had been anxious as fuck in the morning, then he had taken the Valium, and Brian had taken him to the dentist. If they talked about anything on the ride there, Justin had no recollection of what it could have possibly been.
The root canal had been awful, but not nearly as terrifying as the last one he had needed. Justin wasn't sure what happened afterwards. He vaguely recollected something about the follow-up appointment. From what he could remember, the clinic was supposed to call him. He wasn't certain. He did remember insisting to Brian that they had left his blue scarf back at the clinic. Except it was the end of April, and nobody was wearing scarves, least of all him.
Surprisingly, he felt pretty ok. A bit groggy, but ok.
He stepped out of the room, and found Brian watching the news.
"Did I sleep through the entire afternoon?"
Brian looked up. "Mostly. Come. Sit. How are you feeling?"
"I'm kind of hungry. I mean, I feel weirdly ok. Surprisingly ok. But I'm hungry."
Brian rolled his eyes. "Of course you are. I can order Thai."
"Have you eaten yet?"
"Take your medicine – it's on the counter. I'll order Thai for the both of us. Come. Sit."
Justin took his medicine as ordered, and then padded over to the couch and plonked himself down next to Brian leaning against him while Brian ordered.
"You sure you're ok?"
"Hmmm…yeah. Just…still somewhere between being asleep and awake. I'll be fine after I eat. Thank you. For everything. You really didn't have to…"
"Shhhh. You talk too much." Brian resolutely kept watching the news.
Justin smiled, and found his head a very soft, cosy spot somewhere between Brian's arm and chest. "If I fall asleep, wake me when the food arrives. Please."
"Shhhh."
When Justin next awoke, James Dean was on the television, his head was on Brian's lap, and he had no idea where the Thai food was.
It didn't matter, because he wasn't hungry anymore. Certainly not for Thai food.
He moved his body softly, so that he was watching Brian's face instead of the television.
"What are you doing?" Brian asked him, still watching James Dean.
"Watching you."
At that, Brian looked down at him. "Hungry?" He asked softly.
"Mmmm." Justin ran the back of his hand across Brian's face. "For you."
Justin would remember the rest of that evening his entire life.
A/N: Justin's performance at Joe's Pub is a compilation of two performances by Randy Harrison at the same location, and the introductory speech given there is almost verbatim the speech given by Randy Harrison. I take no credit for it.