CHAPTER 36: THE SONG THAT NEVER ENDS

This is the song that never ends

Yes it goes on and on my friend

Some people started singing it

Not knowing what it was

But people kept singing it just because…

By HANNA and VIOLA

BEN

I have to admit that it has been incredibly great having Em here. Yes, he’s flamboyant and his taste in clothes tends to extend to his home decorating skills. But he’s managed to make this place feel like a home for Hunter and me. Coming home to meals, laughter, and conversation has given us a feeling of normalcy that we never expected. Michael certainly wasn’t Mr. Happy Homemaker.

Hell, he couldn’t even boil water without setting off the smoke detectors. It was just one more way having Debbie as his mom, technically handicapped him. After the revelations of the last few days, it was becoming hard to determine what was actually all Michael’s doing, and which of his actions were in direct correlation to her, trying to assuage her guilt for being a single mother. Don’t get me wrong, Michael is certainly responsible for his own actions. Free will can be a bitch, especially when you have no area of reference you can refer to.

But in her trying to give him everything he ever wanted, I wonder if she shouldn’t share a cell beside him for abuse and neglect. Every person should be taught how to accept the word ‘no’, and have boundaries without blurred lines. She obviously never taught him that. And in turn, she conditioned the rest of us to behave the same way when it came to dealing with her manchild. I’m broken out of my philosophizing reverie by the ringing of the doorbell.

Coming out of the home office, I cross over to the front door. As I look through the peephole, I suddenly find myself wishing that Emmett was here right now. But, he’s taken Hunter shopping for some new clothes. So I’m left to deal with this on my own. Sighing, I open the door with a note to self: Next time put the fucking car in the garage, if you want to save yourself this particular brand of trouble!

“Hello, Debbie. How are you?”

She glares at me, and pushes into my place without so much as a hello in return. “How do you think I am?! My son’s in jail, and Sunshine is determined that he remains there! As usual, this is all Brian’s fault, but Justin’s not bending! Well, unless of course, it’s to bend over for the Asshole! So as his husband, it is your duty to get him out of there!”

I do the last thing she expects. I laugh and clap at her performance. “Bravo, Deb. You really play the Delusional Mother Hen to the hilt. But I’m not afraid to tell you that an encore is not needed. Michael made his own criminal bed, and he’s going to lie in it. Now, if you don’t want a cell next to him, you should leave. I doubt they will let you cook puttanesca in prison. So go out and enjoy your freedom, while letting Michael FINALLY become a man. It’s long past time for that!”

“Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that?! He’s long since been a grown man, but there’s nothing wrong with me wanting to help my son! I would expect him to do it for any of you!”

“What a crock of shit you speak! First, let’s look at some facts… When Brian was falsely accused of sexual harassment at work, what did your son do? Nothing, except berate him for fucking, although I suspect that was more out of jealousy that it wasn't him, than ANY real concern. But then he also lied on you to David in the process. Yes, I know all about that, too, so hold the ready-made excuses, thank you.

"Then, when Brian and Justin were having problems and he was told to stay out of it by everyone, yourself included, but what did your son do? He played the tattletale game, leaving out most of the core information to suit his own ends. Ah, and my favorite, when he wanted money and didn’t get it from Brian, what did your son do? He stole it from Justin. But not only did he steal from Justin, HE STOLE FROM YOU!

"And yet, you are being willfully blind, once again, to the fact that Michael causes his own mess. Let’s face another fact, shall we? He’s a mama’s boy, with an undue sense of entitlement, while you are, once again, running around putting out the proverbial fires he’s started. You look like a fool, and keep this up and you will be a LONE fool, because no one will want to be around you. Take off the blinders, pull your head out of your ample ass, and find your own fucking life for a change! Michael’s already wasted his; why are you letting him waste yours, too? Now it’s time for you to leave!”

Debbie, at first, looked shocked. I guess having to hear reality, when one has lived in delusion for so long, would indeed stun a person to silence. But then she raised her hand up, no doubt to slap me. I had actually prepared myself for it, before I decided it was time to deliver some hard home truths of my own. But I’m relieved when the slap never comes.

“You heard him, Deb. Get the fuck out!” Emmett yells, with his hand still wrapped around her wrist.

Without preamble or a moment’s hesitation, he ushers her to the door and pulls her through it. Hunter and I watch in amazement as he keeps going, leading her to the bus stop across the street, then holding her there so obviously against her will. After about five minutes, the bus pulls up. He has a few words with the driver, before paying her fare and depositing Debbie's still-stunned-self into one of the front seats designated for the handicapped and elderly. Then his tall, lanky frame alights from the bus, just before it pulls away from the curb.

As he walks calmly back into the house and shuts the door, Hunter and I are still in shock at how fast things have happened. He comes calmly through the door as if the events of the last few minutes didn't happen. He directs his question, at first to Hunter, and then to me, “You okay, Sweetie?” 

“Yeah, dude. I’m alright. I swear that broad is nutso… but then so is her son, so it must be hereditary, right?” Hunter asks, as I continue to stare at Emmett. I feel his gaze on me, before turning back to Emmett. “Well, I’m going upstairs to my room where I will shut the door and finish my homework with my music turned way up. You two should just fuck already!” And with that comment he was gone.

I shake my head to clear out my salacious thoughts at Em’s hotness, during his take charge moment. Meanwhile, Em clears his throat, turning on that famous Southern charm he has. “So, Benny honey, Hunter and I had a fabulous time shopping. But I’ll tell you all about that in a bit. Have you eaten yet?” When I shake my head no, still staring at him, he says, “Well I’ll just whip something up real quick like, and we can regale each other on how we spent the morning, alright?”

“Yeah, Em. I’d like that.” While I watch him walk towards the kitchen with that unconscious sashay he has, one thought is racing through my head. Hunter’s idea sure has merit!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

DA’s OFFICE

ANNETTE

As I’m looking at all the evidence against Lindsay Peterson, I’m astounded! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that revenge would be so sweet, or complete. I knew about Lynette’s vendetta against her sister long ago. But the lengths she’s gone to basically, play fool to catch wise is just… oh my God! I’ve just realized that whether the babies Taryn is carrying are Brian’s or Justin’s- both, or neither- we’ve got the bitch for fraud, breaking and entering, and most of all, attempted extortion and blackmail, beginning with Lynette’s first husband, Henri. Just as Bitchzilla was taping, unbeknownst to her, or anyone else at the time, so was he!

Clarence is looking at me with hope in his eyes, while Gareth is just as much in shock as I am. “Based on the look on your face, I’d say that the uncovery of the tape is admissible?” he asks.

“Tell me how you came across it, again?”

“My attorney happened upon an envelope we thought had gone missing long ago with a very valuable personal effect of Henri’s. It was his grandfather’s watch, which was originally earmarked for Lynette, so she would always remember him. He always wore it as a talisman, even though it hadn’t worked for many years.” His eyes grow a little misty at the recollection, but he clears his throat and refocuses. “Anyway, she and I had looked all over for it after… well just after, but to no avail. Since Adam Wright’s son is primarily taking over the practice while he keeps a certain few of us on as clients, he was cleaning out the office he’s had for going on thirty years, and came across the envelope. When he opened it, he found the watch and a set of keys, along with a letter addressed to me, but left in his care. So I went there, wondering what could’ve been so important that he kept it separate from the other personal letter he had delivered to me, posthumously.”

I nod. “Yeah, we’ve got her. Now the question is when to drop the net over her so that she doesn’t have any wiggle room…”

“Why not just arrest the conniving cunt now?!”

“Because Lindsay has a gift for being able to explain away her misdeeds. That earth mother persona, equipped with ready-made tales and tears, has served her well over the years. With any other D.A., they would definitely be quick to jump the gun on this. But I know the bitch as well as you do, Clarence. So I’m going to take a small page out of Lynette’s book for now, and allow Lindsay to believe she’s getting away with everything she’s done and will continue to do. That false sense of security she’s been feeling is about to become very, VERY uncomfortable.”  

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

JUSTIN

Brian and I were still with Ted, Melanie, and Tory within the office, going over the particulars of her new contract. Cyn went up to the front office to handle some last minute calls, primarily to the employment agency Kinnetik uses. All-in-all, I think the meeting was more than productive as it is going to be a wonderful opportunity for Tory, and it finally got the annoying professor out of my orbit… at least, I hope so. I think I will ask the Board at Carnegie to reconsider who they have as a liason for the students following this semester. Ben is more suited to this type of work than Bradley is, and he would never abuse his position in the way Bradley tried to do. My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Tory’s cell phone ringing.

“Miranda, how are you? Uh-huh… oh I see. Are you freaking kidding me?! Oh I know you never kid about money, but… Okay, I will tell him.” She hangs up, and I know that my forehead is wrinkled in confusion.

“So what’s up, Tory? Miranda is off today, just as you are. Was there a problem with the accounts in New York?” I ask, trying to keep the sudden stress out of my voice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brian shift his chair closer to mine and feel his large hand cup the back of my neck. Almost instantly, I can feel my tension start to ease with the reassuring gesture. I’ve missed it more than I can ever begin to describe. He’s always had a way of soothing me in the most elemental ways, even in the presence of others. To anyone else, it might look like a  simple touch, but to me, it feels like home.

“Don’t worry, Jus. Everything is fine. Actually, it’s more than fine! I sent Miranda to Los Angeles for the weekend. Remember that scheduling conflict we had between your need to be here, and the Emerging Artists showcase in L.A. that you were urged to do by…?”

“Brett… yeah, I know. He was a little disappointed when I had to turn it down, because of the commitments I had here. But there is another one in a few months, so what about it?”

“Well, Brett called the office personally, but you weren’t available. Although, I know you said it was a done deal, Miranda said that you shouldn’t have to sacrifice opportunity over obligation. So between she and I, we packed and shipped the pieces you were going to enter and…”

“And?” We all say, at the same time.

“Come on girl, don’t leave us in suspense!” Mel orders, moving closer to the edge of her seat. Ted does the same, just as his phone beeps.

“What the fuck is it with all the damn phones?!” Brian explodes, even while seeing Ted’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“Bri… Jus…”

“Well, spit it out already, Theodore!”

“Justin…”

“Tory? Do you know why Ted looks like he just swallowed three mouthfuls of cum?” I ask.

“UGH!” she and Mel wince while Brian laughs. “Thanks for the visual… NOT! Nasty! Anyway…” Tory rolls her eyes. “If it’s the reason I think it is, then it’s because all of your paintings SOLD!”

“What?! All of them?”

“Every last one of the five. But the painting, "The ‘Dear’ Purge", started a bidding war and ultimately went to someone who paid $150K for it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me! Who the hell… No, I’m saying that wrong...” Brian takes a deep breath and begins to speak again. “I know you’re supremely talented, Justin. But why that painting? What was it about?”

I close my eyes, still visualizing the contents. God, I hated painting that. I felt so raw and cut open, while I worked on it. I was still living with Brian at the time, and we were in this really weird place. I started it just after I had come back from Vermont, having spent the week alone, thinking about what Michael had said about Brian’s departure to Chicago.

I was trying to figure out how I fit into the equation; trying to figure out who I was, both before the bashing and now after it. I was frustrated because I couldn’t seem to remember anything about the bold kid who asked Brian to his prom. But I could remember the hurt kid whose father had disowned him; the bullied kid; the disrespected kid; and the virtually homeless kid… I was looking to locate the kid who had nothing of his own but could still manage to smile. I remember thinking ‘who was he?’ ‘where was he?’ and ‘who am I?’

So I went to the campus, and just began to write down all of my jumbled thoughts on a canvas, which I had turned sideways. As I worked and worked, I just kept writing, trying to get it all out of my head before it destroyed me. It didn't help initially so, I pulled out my paints to trace what I had written. By the time I finished, I ended up with a rainbow-colored letter written purely out of emotion. It was a letter to Brian, but I never addressed it to him.

“That… painting was done at a really confusing time of my life. It doesn’t matter. So $150K, huh? Well, at least it’s worth something to someone now. So Ted, what is the final tally? I imagine that’s what has you looking both so shocked, and euphoric at the same time, right?” I ask, rambling.

“Justin…”

“Don’t, Brian. I don’t want to talk about what was in it, okay? Please just…”

“Okay. I won’t push, but you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right?”

How was I supposed to answer that? On one hand, I’m sad that it’s gone. But on the other hand, I’m relieved that it is. I mean, within that canvas is all the things I felt, was, am, and want to be. It’s frightening and passionate and intimidating and… just everything that leaves me so exposed to the world.

And now someone has it. And I’m relieved, because although they may know my name as the artist, they still don’t know me as the man who went through all of that. I can still hide; I can be anonymous. I can just be whatever the world thinks they see when they look at me, instead of the bundle of confused nerves who wrote that letter.

“Maybe someday, but not for a long time. Today is for celebrating! So Ted, how much did I make minus fees and commission?”

We watch in silence as Ted opens his laptop, and accesses JTD’s account. When he finally speaks, his voice is the sound of quiet awe. “The commission for the gallery has already been taken out, but Tory, Miranda, and I will receive $10 grand each. So that leaves you with $125K.”

“Oh my God! I’m…”

“You were never an ‘Emerging Artist’, Justin. You’re an established artist, who just happened to be doing one of his first official art shows within the Fine Arts sector. Your work on Rage, and the logos you've created, was your ticket out of obscurity long ago. I have to say, even beyond my fee, I am very proud of you, Justin,” Ted tells me. I don’t ever think I’ve heard him say those particular words to me before, even though I knew he thought them. And I have to say, it feels fucking amazing!

“Congratulations, Baby!” Mel screams, and hugs me up. Tory and Brian laugh at my continued amazement of this moment. “Oh my goodness, I just had a thought…”

“You thinking? It can’t be good,” Brian jokes.

“Shut up, Asshole,” Mel retorts, but she’s laughing. That’s another good thing that has happened lately. Mel and Brian have become genuine friends throughout all of this drama. “We’re going to need umbrellas made of concrete, when word of this gets out.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, genuinely puzzled.

“What she means is that there are going to be bricks of piss and shit happening when it’s discovered that despite their machinations, and Ms. Plans’ attempt to steer you in the direction she wanted you to go, you’ve managed to succeed without even having to be present at the showcase. And there is absolutely nothing she can do about it or tell you, since she’s not recognized in the social circles you are achieving without even trying,” Brian says, as he pulls me closer.

I could feel the sudden tension enter his body, and know instantly what it means. “Brian... All of you really, as high as I’m able to climb, every last one of you are coming with me. I can’t think of a group of people that I trust more than those who are in this room, and we can add Cyn, Em, and Ben to the number. Lunch is on me, guys! Someone call the others and tell them to meet us at Le Mont in an hour.” I turn and kiss Brian briefly, before turning to exit the office. I can already hear Em squealing over the phone as Ted fills him in.

We’re entering the lobby as I’m brought up short by a familiar voice in the area. There’s Cynthia, of course, but then… oh fuck! What is Brett doing here?!  

*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*ADLS

LINDSAY

Fucking hell! This has got to be the worst week of my life! Between the shenanigans at the Carnivale, my family’s disloyalty at having Justin’s artwork here and guarded by armed security officers, Clarence’s complete disregard followed by the subsequent slap from that trollop, and my missing merchandise, I have had enough of being fucked with! And now, Lynette and Brian’s bitchy sister are downstairs, laughing it up with Ronald and Nancy. Well, I shall not have it! It’s time for me to reclaim control of this situation. With that thought, I leave the room and head down there, intent on my mission to regain my life.

“So when is all this to take place, Claire?” I hear Nancy ask. “You must be so anxious and excited to have it all over and done with.”

“I am. With the advent of Brandon into our lives, it’s going to be really interesting to see how Brian handles it all.”

Brian? What the fuck has Brian got to do with anything?! I continue to listen, hoping to get my answer.

“Cynthia is taking care of the introduction right now, Mother. But he’s already agreed to meet with us later to discuss everything, before going over there,” Lynette tells her.

Where? Where the fuck is he going? What the fuck is going on with Brian?!

“Well, if it’s alright with you Claire, I’d like to tag along. I have a few choice words to say to her myself. I may be a lot of things, but being complacent in my own life has never been one of them! The bitch should have grown a set of balls years ago.”

Who the fuck are they talking about? Oh, I have had enough of this talking in riddles shit!

I enter the room. “Good morning, all. So who are we talking about?” I ask, but am brought up short as I look closely at Claire, and then Lynette. Oh hell the fuck NO! Are they wearing my clothes? I clear my throat. “Well, don’t you two look nice this morning. New outfits?”

“Yes, indeed, from Inez’s shop. She really does have the best stuff, doesn’t she, Claire?” Lynette smarms.

“She does, indeed. Working there does have its privileges.”

“Does it now?” I sneer. “I guess it would be a step up from shopping at the Big Q for you. But tell me, how were you able to afford it? I don’t imagine you make all that much working there.”

Claire looks at me with the familiar smirk I’ve seen on her brother’s face, a thousand times. “Well Lindsay, to answer your question, your mom was kind enough to let me keep and alter some items that have recently come into her possession. She found they weren’t to her very stylish, but matronly, taste. These pieces are more geared towards the well-to-do single woman, or for a new wife, who’s still committed to her husband-to-be, but young enough to still want to look sexy while keeping his interests. You understand that all too well, don’t you? Anyway, I couldn’t not share my new bounty with the woman, who has become my best friend. So Lynette and I decided to make a day out of it, then come by to model for your wonderful mother. Thank you again, so much, Nancy! The wardrobe is a wonderful addition to my trousseau. Between parties, business lunches and dinners, and travelling abroad at times, it will definitely come in handy.”

My stomach lurched as I watch my mother stand up, and move forward to receive a hug from Claire. Since when does she do that?! I doubt she even cradled Lynette and me when the she-wolf gave birth to us, let alone at any other time in our lives when we could’ve dealt with a simple gesture of kindness. This is absolutely disrespectful to me! And it’s happening within the walls of my own fucking house!

“Now ordinarily, we would just touch fingers as a sign of acknowledgement, dear. But you are just so darling in your ingenuity to this world, that I simply can’t help myself. You are going to make him such a fabulous wife. Not that Annette wasn’t, but she was the love of his youth; you will be the love of his old age. Now, how are John and Peter dealing with all of this?”

“Excuse me, Mother, but I haven’t even had my own question answered yet,” I say, through gritted teeth.

“Well, there are two reasons for that, Lindsay. The first is that it isn’t any of your business whom we were speaking of, as I would imagine that there are more important matters that should have your attention just now.”

“Such as?”

“Oh I don’t know. Trying to find way out of the messes of your own making, perhaps? You’ve dug yourself into such a hole that I imagine even God, if he were so inclined, couldn’t pull you out of it. And secondly, you were the one who went off on a tangent about wardrobe choices that haven’t a thing to do with you. Over thirty years old and you still haven’t learned to prioritize, or see the bigger picture; it’s sad really!”

“Mother, I…”

“No, you don’t.”

“But you don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“Yes, I do. You were either going to apolo-lie, or you were going to say that anything which concerns me, concerns you, or, my absolute favorite, you would have said how you just want to feel included. Once again, none of this is your business, so feel free to go back upstairs and figure out your next scene of drama. We are not interested. Good day, Lindsay. Now back to what we were talking about, before we were so rudely interrupted...” She says, turning back to Claire.

Having been summarily dismissed, I fume as I head back up to my prison. How dare they disregard me like that?! Well, I will get to the bottom of what’s going on with Brian. And then it will be time to find out just who this Brandon person is, and see if he can separate Brian and Justin again. As I’ve always said, Brian is meant for nothing but fucking hot guys, and supporting me while he’s doing it.

If he fucks me a time or two, all the better. But I can’t wait to see how Justin handles the unknown entity, this time. He’ll probably do what he always does when life gets tough, the little sissified faggot… he’ll leave. And this time, I’ll make sure it’s for GOOD! In the meantime, I think it’s time to see Michael about a man named Brandon.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

CYNTHIA

I look at the three men before me, one of whom I knew would be here, but the other two… although they look familiar, I can’t seem to place them at the moment.

“Hello again, Brandon. Give me a moment, and I’ll be right with you. May I help you, gentlemen?” I ask politely, despite my wanting nothing more than to kick them out.

“Yes, we’re here to see Brian Kinney. I apologize that we’re invading his place of business on a Saturday, but we took the chance that he might be in…” the brunet tells me, while the tall blond man looks around, examining the artwork on the walls.

“These are amazing! Did Justin do these also?” he asks.

I suddenly understand the pride that Brian felt, as he ordered them to be hung asap. “Why yes, he did. So you’re familiar with Justin Taylor’s work. How so?”

“Ah, forgive us the oversight. We’re used to being recognized in the area where we’re from. I’m Connor James, and this is my friend and business associate, Brett Keller. We’re personally acquainted with Justin’s work from the Rage franchise.”

My jaw drops open at his pronouncement. Connor James is one of the biggest names floating about Hollywood, as is Brett Keller’s in the production arena. I recover immediately and extend my hand. “So sorry that I didn’t immediately recognize you, gentlemen. Both Brian and Justin are just finishing up after an impromptu meeting this morning. I’ll let them know you’re here. Brandon, can I…”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine until you get back. I’m sure that Brian and Justin will need to take care of this immediately.” He smiles winningly at me, reminding me instantly of Brian.

My thoughts are interrupted by the loud cheer erupting from Justin’s office, and then the door is open. “Looks like I don’t need to rush off just yet. They’re headed this way.”

At first, Justin’s back is turned towards the lobby. I can see the love and pride beaming from Brian, as he looks down at him. It’s always struck me how different he looks when he’s focusing on Justin. I should’ve realized the first time I saw that look how much Brian loved him. It’s unlike any other persona he portrays, and apparently, I’m not the only one who’s noticed it this time as all three men are struck dumb while watching them. As Justin turns around, I see his smile diminish a bit, but he recovered well.

“Justin, Brian…” I begin, but Justin addresses his visitors from LaLa Land.

“Connor, Brett, what are you two doing here? Isn’t there some big premiere this weekend that you should be attending?” Justin asks.

“Don’t tell me that the sun is a little less bright for the absence of Sunshine here,” Brian drawls sarcastically, placing a possessive arm around Justin’s shoulders.

Brett ducks his head and smiles, before straightening up and clearing his throat. “You have nothing to worry about in that quarter, although you are right about missing Sunshine. Justin is definitely missed in the few days he’s been gone. But that’s not why we’re here, right Con?”

“Oh yeah… we’ve come because we have something for you, Brian, that we think you should have. Although I’m still not happy that I’ve lost my chance with Justin, after speaking with Dijon…”

“Dijon? Dijon like the mustard? What does he have to do with anything?” Ted asks.

Brian sighs. “Calm down, Theodore. Dijon was in L.A. at that function I told you about. You know, the one that George suggested we attend?”

“Oh. I remember, but what was Dijon doing there? They run in decidedly different circles, don’t they?”

“Yes and no. They share common interests. Now if you would shut up and let them speak, I think your questions will be answered so that you don’t have to guess wrongly.” Brian glared at him, clearly losing patience. Ted gulped hard and made the lock and key signal by his mouth, indicating that he was shutting up now. Thank goodness because my curiosity is also piqued. “So what brings you guys out of the Star-studded state?”

“As I was saying, after the talk with Dijon, I understand why I never stood a chance. You guys were amazing and by the time you finished, there wasn’t any doubt left of why you two should be together for however long it lasts. So anyway, Brett took me to the art show last night. I had no idea that Justin’s pieces would be featured in the showcase, since one of his interns had invited him to see her work as well. But when we got there, big and bold on the left wall, was the artist Justin Taylor’s work being displayed.”

Brett took over then. “All of your work was magnificent, Justin, but this… Well, this one called to us. What’s funny is that Connor and I had the same thought, and began an anonymous bidding war with each other. It wasn’t until I caught him filling out the slip after my counter-offer that we decided to write a check of $75K each, so that we could give it to Brian together.”

There is a collective gasp, and I feel like I’ve missed out on a whole conversation.

“How did you know it was about Brian? I didn’t name him,” Justin asks, breathlessly.

I want to take him into my arms, as he sounds like he wants to cry. Why? He just sold a painting for… oh shit! $150K! I would be dancing naked in fire, if I did that my major first time out!

“How could we not?” Connor asks. “You’re right that you didn’t put a name on it, but you poured your soul into The ‘Dear’ Purge. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to start bawling like a baby, while standing there and reading those words in public? I have an image as a tough guy to uphold, after all. Look, I can’t imagine what it took for you to slice yourself open like that, but damn it, man! All of those thoughts, emotions… those moments need to be shared with Brian. So we’ve brought it with us. That painting needs to be home, where it so clearly belongs. And so do you.”

I don’t think I have ever heard such silence in my life. Justin looks stunned; Brian looks a cross between happy and scared; Ted, Mel, and Tory look so happy that their smiles look as if to split their faces. Even Brandon, who doesn’t know the full history of Brian and Justin is affected.

“Brian, I…”

“Don’t, Justin. Just don’t. Now you don’t have to speak about it, if you still don’t want to. Let’s just… look at it as a gift. That’s what I’m going to do, okay? Thank you, Brett and Connor, for doing this. I would’ve done it myself had I known about the show…”

We all laughed. “I’m sure you would have, but Justin is a man of many secrets.”

“Not that many,” Justin argues.

“Only the ones you’re afraid to jinx. But since I believe in celebrating accomplishments, how about you guys join us for a late lunch at Le Mont? It’s what… one-thirty in L.A. now? By the time you make it back, it will be time for you to start getting ready.”

“I was actually thinking about skipping tonight. Connor, what about you?” Brett asks.

“I certainly didn’t want to be bothered with Penelope, hanging her tits all over me. I mean, I know she’s supposed to for appearance purposes, but still…” He mock shivers, causing Brian, Justin, and Brett to laugh.

“Penelope? As in Penelope Shepard?” Mel asks.

“Yeah, that’s her. You know her?” Connor asks, and at Mel’s silence, he laughs. “Ah, biblically- or not so biblically- I take it?”

“Yeah, not so biblically indeed. She still with Janice?”

“No. At the moment, she’s a free agent, although she might be willing to make an exception for an old friend. I’ll ask Leda if she can accompany her to the premiere in my stead.”

“Leda? Not Leda Ja...wait a minute?! Is Leda James related to you?” Melanie asks, apprehension clear on her face.

“My half-sister, why?”

“Mel, you old… and I do mean OLD doggette!” Brian exclaims, earning an elbow in the ribs from Melanie. “Looks like you got around too, during your college years.”

“So you’re the Melanie Marcus, huh? You know you broke my sister’s heart? How’s the wife and son?” Connor asks.

“Our- as in mine and Brian’s- son is fine. But the wife… well, that horse-humping thundercunt is no more.”

He laughs. “Well, it’s nice to finally know where Leda came up with that one! When she first said that about our latest stepmother, I spit my beer. It’s nice to meet you, Melanie. Perhaps I should call Leda, and ask her to meet me here instead?”

“Please DO!” We all yell, as Mel looks on mortified.

“She should have called the second she kicked Lyin’ lips Lindsay out.” Ted rolls his eyes.

“Well Theodore, we finally agree on something, since I told her the exact same thing. Looks like the day for wishes is being granted. Which leads me to my next question, who the fuck are you?” Brian asks, as he addresses Brandon.

“Hello Brian, I’m your brother.”

Oh fuck! What a day!    

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*ADLS

MICHAEL

This is bullshit! Utter, unadulterated bullshit! This bitch finally decides to visit me, and has only done so to berate me and because she wants information?! Well Lindsay can suck several diseased dicks, as far as I’m concerned.

“Michael, do you hear me? I want to know who this Brandon character is! You already owe me for selling me out!”

“I owe you shit, Lindsay! I’m the one sitting in fucking jail, while you’re roaming the streets free. Tell me, have you found your next john yet?”

“Fuck you, Michael!”

“Not even with your former husband’s plastic dick! Now to answer your question, so that I can go back to what I was doing…”

“And what exactly was that? Playing with yourself?”

“No, cutting a deal.” Well now that shut her up, didn’t it? “As I was saying, I don’t know any Brandon, at least not from here. And since I’ve never been anywhere, but Pittsburgh and New York my entire life, I don’t know who Brandon is or what he has to do with Brian. He’s never mentioned anyone by that name to me. And since the only trick’s name who he’s bothered to remember is Boy fucking Wonder’s, I can’t tell you anything. Besides, shouldn’t you be concentrating on tricking that Clarence guy into marrying you? You shouldn’t be worrying about some other dude, who has no benefit to you, right?”

“First of all, it’s not your business what goes on between Clarence and me…”

“Just like it isn’t your business who Brian knows, or doesn’t know; it’s mine! But I’m not worried about some man, who can’t get Brian and Justin to drop the charges against me, now am I?”

“As I was saying… if I can figure out who this Brandon person is to Brian, perhaps I can get Brian to drop the charges against you, while getting him to dump Justin. We need him out of the way once and for all, Michael!”

“Yeah, well good luck with that! I don’t even know who Brian is anymore. He hasn’t come to visit me, he won’t even take my calls… you know, that’s what you should be doing. Getting Mel to get Brian to lift these ridiculous restraining orders! That’s how you can make yourself useful. Go sweet talk her, lick her pussy, and get back into her good graces. Then find out what you can, and make whatever evidence she and twinkie boy cooked up against me disappear! Then maybe I’ll be able to find out who that Brandon guy is for you, but with me stuck in a cell...”

“Fine, Michael. I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything. Besides, I need you out of here so that I don’t go down with you. That fucking fiddler betrayed both of us. Hmm, maybe if I offer my testimony in exchange…”

“Forget it. He’s got nothing left to lose, since he already lost Boy Wonder. You and I, on the other hand…”

“Yeah, I get it…”

We’re both silenced by the loud buzzing sound, which announces a new prisoner on the floor, and are stunned even further to see the last person we needed to, being led in by handcuffs… Christopher Mark Hobbs.

Fuck and Double Fuck!!