PART I: THE AFTERMATH

MICHAEL

It’s been five whole fucking weeks and I haven’t seen the hide nor hair of Brian. He hasn’t been at Kinnetik during the hours I’ve been able to go there from the store and he hasn’t been back to the loft either. I’ve asked around and he’s been in the city. One would think with as many ‘emergency’ calls that I’ve placed to him AND Boy Wonder, one or both of them would have deemed it important and called me back. Hell, they haven’t even been to the diner! I mean, they would have to come up for air sometime, right? Shouldn’t they be bored with each other’s company by now? There isn’t that much fucking in the world!

As I’m still silently fuming at being ignored, I flip viciously through my mail. Bills, bills, and more bills are starting to arrive. Plus the publisher is asking for another installment of Rage. Well this is fortuitous, as I’ve been thinking of another storyline in which JT returns but is accosted by an ex-boyfriend who puts a spell on him, causing him to leave Rage for good. I suppose that plot has a lot to do with the fact that the chin-rat, none other than Ethan Gold, has been lurking around the avenue lately, asking about and looking for Justin. It seems inevitable that they are bound to run into each other, right? Perhaps I should help that happen. Then, while Justin is busy fending off that rodent, Brian will finally be free again to spend some time with me, his best friend. And then between Lindsay and I, we can talk sense into Brian, once again, about letting Boy Wonder go live his life. Maybe then Brian would pay attention to important matters, like his business, and reclaiming his throne as the King of Liberty Avenue.

I still can’t believe Brian gave up having every man want him to settle for the flaky twink that never stays put. What does he see in him? Several times during their association- I refuse to call it a relationship- I thought Brian would have kicked Justin out of his life for good. I even fermented their breakups by pointing out Justin’s role of trick de jour several times, causing him to leave Brian or the other way around. But they still found their way back to each other. I’ve had to watch helplessly as one-by-one my dreams of being Brian’s have been systematically destroyed by a trick that didn’t seem to know when his time was fucking up! Don’t get me wrong...I love Ben, but my heart doesn’t skip a beat when he walks into the room like it always does for Brian. Besides his mortality is at risk and Brian’s isn’t, so why wouldn’t I try to hold on to the man I know will take care of me in the end?

My thoughts are that Brian should be sowing his wild oats until I’m ready to be with him. By then, Brian should be ready to settle down; to have a real relationship at long last with the right person. I AM that person, not Justin! But as long as Justin is around, none of it can happen. I also don’t want to necessarily destroy Justin, since I need him to work on Rage with me. No other artist will be able to capture Brian as well as Justin does. So it would be best to give him another option, right? That’s where Ethan will come in… a distraction and an opportunity. Artists, no matter the genre, should be around each other, right? They have to have a steady source of inspiration; a muse so to speak, in order to do their best work. So I’ll consider my efforts in having Brian to myself my reward for doing something for the greater good of Justin’s career. Hopefully with Lindsay moving back, she will reapply the artist-peer pressure on Justin and make sure that this time he moves on for good!

LINDSAY

“Justin, it’s time you called me back. I know you and Brian have spoken to Mel and Gus, but come on! There has to be more to life than being with Brian. Call me when you come up for air! I need to speak with you about your career... in New York!”

I hang up the phone, once again fuming. Neither Justin nor Brian have called me back, after I have left several messages. He can’t still be pissed off at me for my interference, can he? I mean, had I not pushed him to go to New York by using the one thing he wanted, Justin wouldn’t have reached half of the success that he did in the last year. I know that he told me he didn’t want to go, but he had to have been lying if the reports I’ve been receiving are anything to go by. Don’t get me wrong… I love Brian, I really do, but he needs to let Justin go for good so that he can feed the world, especially me, through his art. So it’s for the greater good that I’ve interfered once again.

Simon called and said that there was a major show he wanted Justin to be featured in. It’s at the gallery he’d just acquired, and every major financial backer will be there. Justin will have the chance to achieve global success, instead of just becoming known here in the States. He can’t miss this opportunity of a lifetime in favor of moving back to Pittsburgh for good! When Michael told me that, it took everything I had in me not to scream. He even told me about some fucking tournament, which guaranteed Brian and Justin wouldn’t be available to anyone other than each other for two weeks afterward. Doesn’t Justin realize that during those two weeks, if he’d spent it in New York where he fucking belongs, he could have had more shows?!

I called his agent, Miranda to complain about how she was handling Justin and his career by letting him have his way. She told me to get a life and stay out of Justin’s. Well that bitch will have to eat crow when I get Justin back where he’s supposed to be, and that’s going to begin with him doing the Simon Craswell show as he ought. Then maybe, just maybe, he’ll see my worth and have me manage his career. Lord knows I would do a better job than she obviously does!

I began calling Justin back immediately, with new vigor and renewed resolve that he will listen to me. When he didn’t answer, I called Brian, using Gus as the trigger. Brian called right back, but it was Melanie he spoke to. My harridan of a wife told him that everything was fine with Gus and that if there were any problems, she would call him directly. When the fuck had they become so close? Mel was pissed and basically ordered me to stay out of their relationship. I told her that they do not have a relationship. We have a relationship; Brian and Justin only have a fuck-ship, one that neither of them can seem to let go of.

I really think that’s why things didn’t work out as I hoped they would with Ethan. I dangled him in front of an affection-starved Justin, and nearly jumped with glee when he took the bait. My reason was that Brian would only stifle Justin’s creativity in his need to be the center of attention at all times. Sure I knew that Justin loved Brian, but in order for him to reach his true potential, he has to suffer emotionally and mentally, where it has nowhere else to go but on canvas. That’s how the Masters became great, in my opinion. And Justin has the talent to become one of them, if only Brian would leave him the fuck alone!

Well, I’ll make sure that happens, now that Mel has finally agreed that Canada is NOT for us. It’s taken nearly two years, but she’s gotten the message loud and clear that although I agreed to move here, I’m not happy being here. Because of her insistence and catastrophizing, Justin is now in danger of losing his career in favor of fucking. That can’t happen! And I will make sure that it doesn’t!

BRITIN

“Oh shit! Oh...Hm…. a little to the left, pl-please….” Justin moaned as Brian pounded into him.

It was the last day of their break from reality. Originally, it was only supposed to be for two weeks, but turned into five since they kept it going past the allotted time. The life free from unwarranted and unwanted interruptions was bliss and they were taking full advantage of it. Since Ted and Em were the only ones within their circle who knew Brian had kept the house, they knew the secret was still safe. Although Brian would go into the office and Justin had meetings, they managed to avoid Michael, knowing that he would use any and every excuse to detain them. Even Debbie had backed off and they knew to thank Mother Taylor for that.

Brian and Justin were given a play-by-play account of what happened after their abrupt departure from the loft that night. They had won the Tawdry Tournament, fair and square, guaranteeing themselves two weeks of unintrusive sucking and fucking. Although that was the goal, it was simply being together after an unsteady year that both men wanted. Whereas the other opponents of the legendary pool game were willing to grant the couple their space, Michael was not. Not even a half an hour after they arrived back at the loft, Michael showed up, trying his key, complaining that he couldn’t get in and leaning on the buzzer. Justin had threatened to commit justifiable homicide, effectively removing his ass from Brian’s orbit if they didn’t get out of there. So they escaped to their refuge, Britin for their own brand of R&R, reconnection and restoration. Rest and relaxation, such as it was, would come later.

“God, Justin,” Brian grunted. “How the fuck are you still so fucking tight?”

Instead of answering, Justin grabbed a handful of his lover’s locks, forcing him into a torrid kiss. Brian moaned as the younger man emulated what Brian’s cock did to him inside of the brunet’s mouth. That tongue-roll of Justin’s- no matter where it was enacted- always sent Brian into paroxysms of pleasure, where he was usually more subdued during sex. Justin was the only man to bring sounds out of him in such a way where it was completely involuntary. And he knew it!

Brian redoubled his stroking, unable and unwilling to control himself. He fucked Justin as if it was the first time and the last time, as if he was afraid the younger man would disintegrate into a dream within the next second. It was dirty and gritty, pouring every ounce of what he felt into it, as if his next breath depended on Justin’s ultimate pleasure. From the near screams and frantic thrusting happening beneath him, Justin didn’t mind Brian’s sudden rough-handling.

“Fuck! Harder, Brian. Give it to me,” He chanted as he ripped his lips away from the man laboring above him. “More dammit! Give me more!”

That was another thing about Justin that Brian really loved. Too much was never enough for him. Brian widened his stance, gripping Justin by his shoulders. Then, isolating the younger man’s hips, drove into him in a staccato rhythm. The moans emitting from Justin told Brian that the small, forceful movements were exactly what he was demanding.

“So that’s what you wanted, huh?” Brian crooned rhetorically, stabbing into Justin’s prostate over and over again. “That’s right, Sunshine… gasp with it! I want to hear you. Tell me what else you want…”

He watched as Justin’s eyes rolled back on a particularly vicious thrust into the walnut-shaped gland. Brian knew by the time they finished this round, he was going to be close to fainting. He didn’t care. Fucking Justin was more euphoric than the high he got from winning the toughest account. He always felt like he was at the top of his game with the man beneath him. Justin drove him, in bed and out of it. He was life to Brian, always breathing and challenging him to be the best he could be. As animalistic as their mating was, there was a degree of love and respect between them that couldn’t be matched or duplicated.

“Oh fuck, Bri… I’m…”

“Yes! Go for it! Take it, Jus! Give it to me!” Brian demanded, as he redoubled his efforts to get them both off. This was what he missed. Justin’s feelings and wants were never more clear than when he couldn’t hide behind words anymore. His needs- emotionally, physically, and mentally were never more exposed than at the moment just before culmination. “Show me!”

And Justin did, spilling his seed between them in copious amounts without being jerked off. The keening cry reached deeply into the brunet’s soul as Justin trembled beneath him. Brian followed right behind with a shout, as the orgasm was wrenched from him. He literally saw stars while his eyes were closed; the rushing release of endorphins, causing him to feel dizzy. He laid his head in the crook of Justin’s neck, inhaling the salty, sweaty skin and the fragrance he’d dreamed about more times than he could count or admit. Justin was a drug more potent than any other Brian had ever tried. As he lay there, insensate and replete with pleasure, he wondered why he’d ever even tried to fight this feeling.

“Sanka, ya dead?” Justin asks, in a faux-Jamaican accent. They had just watched and laughed at the movie Cool Runnings the night before.

“Yah Mon!” Brian answered, causing them both to snicker and then guffaw loudly with laughter. It was moments like this they cherished most.

Sighing deeply, Justin snuggled in closer to Brian, who had yet to remove himself from atop him. “I suppose we should get up and at least check our emails. I loathe to leave the hottest spot on earth, but with the meet-and-greet just hours away…”

“Yeah, I know. I wish we could just stay here forever.”

“We can.”

“Huh?”

Justin cleared his throat. “I said that we could. We only used the loft these past weeks for business and the occasional stay. There’s no reason that we have to share this with anyone. I thought we went over this five weeks ago.”

“We did. But I thought by now that you would have changed your mind.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, Brian. I meant it when I said that I want to stay here. There is no constant buzzing and revolving door here at Britin. The few times we stayed at the loft, we had to live by candlelight, which might have been considered romantic if not for your obsessed fan club of one. We only did it because we knew that if Michael saw the electricity running, it would have been an automatic invitation to invade our space. I don’t want to go back to that. And I don’t think you do either.”

Brian thought about it for a moment. Although he and Justin were both city boys by nature, there was nothing more appealing to either of them than the peace and quiet Britin offered. He actually found himself able to think better and Justin was painting during their enforced breaks. They only got dressed when they had to, not having to worry about people dropping by unannounced at their whims. At thirty-six years old, Brian could honestly say that this was the life he wanted. And he wanted it with Justin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, we’re officially changing our address. All of our important documents, with the exception of our licenses and passports, will read this address.” He could tell that Justin was smiling wide and bright, so he sat up to look down at the man who continually made his most secret dreams a reality. “And the only person outside of those who already know about this place will be Gus.”

“I love the sound of that. But how will we keep it to ourselves once he knows? You know how Lindsay is.”

Brian frowned. Yeah, he knew how she was and her tendency to question Gus every time he spoke to Brian. Whereas the Novotnys were more overtly nosy, Lindsay was more subtle. Unless she asked a question directly, one didn’t know they were being cultivated to provide information. She didn’t badger like Michael did, where you ended up agreeing just to shut him up. No, Lindsay and her passive-aggressive personality would just consistently refute every argument you could give before you saw the supposed wisdom in her thinking. By then, it’s too late to recant the agreement without looking foolish and she preys on that particular vulnerability. It’s the fear of being wrong in having second thoughts. Ironically, she went after two head-strong people who rarely indulged in those, and won. It’s how she got Brian to agree to push for Justin to go to New York in the first place. He didn’t doubt that she would do the same to Gus at every opportunity, without him realizing it. Hell, he was only about to be six years old!

“I get what you are saying, so I propose this… Whenever we bring Gus here, until he learns how to keep a secret, we tell him that it’s a hotel. And before you ask, we need to hire staff for this place anyway. There’s no way you will have time to clean this place from top to bottom and still be able to service me.”

“Oh, I’m to be at your beck and call, am I?”

Brian shifted over Justin a little more, pulling the pliant body into his. “Nice to know you’ve finally learned your role.”

“Fuck you.” Justin laughed into the smiling face above him. “Well, that takes care of one problem, but not the pain in the ass herself.”

Brian nodded. “You know Ted says that they are moving back to Pittsburgh?”

“Blake told me the same. I won’t have her trying to micromanage me, Brian. In fact, the less dealings I have with Lindsay, the better for a while,” Justin said forcefully.

“Hey… Hey, I get it. And I’m as pissed as you still are at her manipulations, but I take responsibility for my part in it. You should too.”

Justin sighed. “I do, but I’m also hurt behind it, Brian. Her actions basically screamed that I owed her and that I’m not allowed to lead my own life. This wasn’t about a wasted opportunity, like she would have everyone believe. Lindsay is hell bent on living vicariously through me and I won’t have it!”

“I understand more than you think. Justin, you have the man, the money, and the career she will never have, simply because she never cared enough to cultivate her own talent. She’s never had that drive to work hard and succeed the way you have. Sometimes I wonder how you two could have been born within the same society, with practically the same upbringing and yet be so different.”

“That’s easy. My family is from old money, Brian...Well my mother’s side is anyway. But we were taught to never simply expect things handed to us because of our status, the way Lindsay and her new money family tends to do. The set that I was born into don’t act entitled, even if our status says we are. That’s the key difference between those of us born into money, and those within the WASP nest who are new to having it. It's all about appearances, whereas for the rest of us, it's simply a fact of life.

"According to my mother, when Ron married Nancy, they were flat broke. And if it’s a lie, Ron told it. Anyway, Ron hit it big in the European markets about 1971 and had the money transferred to America. It’s how he became a consultant at Merrill Lynch for a time. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, Lynette and Lindsay were born after Ron became one of the higher ups in the company. He sold his stock right before the market crashed in ‘88 and moved here just before you entered your junior year in high school.”

“You know, for a young man, you’re remarkably well-informed.”

“Who knew all of those boring country club dinners would prove useful in understanding the complexities of a shrew.”

“Hey Sunshine, no name-calling.”

“I was being nice.”

They shared a laugh, knowing that Justin was telling the truth. Justin may look like an angel, but he could make the devil blush with his creative cursing. Brian couldn't disagree with anything Justin said, or how he feels about Lindsay.

“So what do you say we get up, have a shower and get to work?”

“Is clothing still optional?”

“Absolutely...unless you don’t think you’ll be able to concentrate with me and all my magnificence uncovered for you to admire.” Brian extended a questioning eyebrow upward, causing Justin to laugh again.

“Of course I’ll be able to concentrate, even if I have to wipe the occasional drop of drool from my mouth. But I won’t deny you if you wanted to grope the goods once or twice.”

“Like now?”

“Race you to the shower…”

***

An hour later, Brian and Justin reconvened at their respective laptops within the office, where they discussed the latest account. Jacob Emerson had signed on the dotted line after six months of negotiations. Upon learning that Justin was a partner within the firm, Mr. Emerson was more than happy to sign a fifteen million dollar contract with Kinnetik to take Emerson Global to the next level. Of course, at this news, Emerson’s major competition, Craig Taylor of Taylor Electronics, was not pleased in the slightest.

For the first time in more than two years, Justin heard the irritating and irate tone of his father. Justin laughed loud and long at Craig’s threats to ruin Brian if Justin didn’t convince him to tear up the Emerson contract. Justin, in turn, told the sperm donor that loyalty was earned, not automatically given, and he owed Craig the same thing he had given him...NOTHING. Later that night, Justin laid in Brian’s arms and cried angry tears from the whole experience. It wasn’t so much that he was disappointed; Justin had crossed that bridge many years ago. It was that the entire episode was expected and that saddened him. But Justin’s outlet and response surprised Brian. After talking it over and letting his own anger at Craig’s numerous threats and actions over the years come to the surface, Justin set to work on art for the campaign that would even make the old Masters green with envy.

He decided to  begin the campaign with scenes back from the birthplaces of Greek mythology, straight through to Thomas Edison and rounding out with how technology, specifically electronics, had evolved into today’s must-haves. With the boards officially finished, Brian looked at the spectacular finished product: a drawing of Morpheus dragging a dark blanket amid a star-covered sky while the sun shines brightly on the other side. Although the artwork was intricate and complex, the message conveyed was clear and concise.

“Emerson Electronics Global: Riding the Electro-waves into the Future.”

Justin smiled brightly at him. “That’s the idea. Perhaps I should draw a board depicting a shipwreck for Taylor Electronics as a final parting gift. It could have Craig’s face as the lobster being caught in a cage, watching helplessly as his store sinks to the bottom of the ocean.”

Brian laughed. “Whereas the idea has merit, let’s just concentrate on what we do best: making money and becoming the best homosexuals this planet has ever seen. Your father’s own bitterness and hatred will take care of him for us and we won’t even have to lift a finger. Our success, especially yours, is already pissing him off. I’m sure he already looks like a boiled lobster right now. But wait until he sees the first round of commercials...”

“So you think this will all translate easily if it’s approved by Emerson and crew?”

“Not a doubt in my mind that it will be approved or be easy to turn into commercials. The talent agency we just signed has loads of people looking for work. They’re SAG/ AFTRA approved so that also gives us access to their actors anywhere globally. It shouldn’t be too difficult to put the word out now.”

“Speaking of which, I received two other emails that I wanted to talk with you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, one is Michael’s usual spiel about doing another installment of Rage. I really don’t have the time or the inclination to work with him anymore. I’ve offered several times to find him a replacement artist to draw the comic for me while I’ve been away, with me keeping creative control so that he could still trust the caliber of work provided and to pay the artist out of my share.”

“I take it he wasn’t thrilled about the suggestion?”

“You take it correctly. I looked over the contract, paying attention to the fine print and found out the reason why. The publisher won’t print drawings if they aren’t approved. That’s their standard policy, which keeps the goal of printing quality and selective reading material to the fore. But it was also listed in the fine print that with Rage, they won’t print it if I’m not the artist doing the comic. I had forgotten about that particular clause. Apparently, I’m a bigger draw than I thought I was before I left for New York. They understand the integrity with which I work. Although they deal with Michael, they obviously don’t trust him.”

“Are the printers and publishers local guys? I never thought to ask that. I know that the original owner of the company, whom I’d worked with while at Vanguard, had retired and sold the business. But I didn’t keep up with developments after the initial issue of Rage was released. I was too busy starting Kinnetik and everything else that happened afterward.” Brian’s voice trailed off, letting Justin know that he was speaking specifically about the cancer. That was indeed a tough time for them.

“Actually yes, they are. Ironically the new owners- or semi-new, in this case- graduated a year before I was supposed to at PIFA. They pooled their money together along with a few of their friends who had graduated the Business Administration masters degree program from Mellon and bought the publishing company. They do both printing and publishing in-house now and are coming on par with the New York Big 6.”

Brian knew that the Big 6 referred to the major publishing houses within the United States and their various divisions abroad. He found it amazing and encouraging that a local company was keeping up with the big boys of New York City. Little fish in a big pond, indeed! “So how did that evolve into them not trusting Michael?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that five out of seven of them are gay?”

“And?”

“And, there is no way that they could have been part of Gay PA and not know of the little blond twink who could, did, and keeps the heart of the former Stud of Liberty Avenue. Consequently, that means they also know Michael as your ‘best friend’. There’s not much that happens in the gayborhood that isn’t talked about, which includes Michael’s one-track mind concerning you.” Justin shrugged and brushed off Brian’s continued questioning look. He didn’t want to tell him what else the guys had said about Michael.  Although true, he didn’t think Brian needed him to state the obvious.

“So what do you want to do? Honestly and no bullshit, Justin, what do you want to do?”

“Offer Michael 15K to buy him out, disband Rage or more to the point, reformat it by discontinuing the current storylines based on our life as Michael sees it. Then re-release it after it’s been off the market for a year or so. I want to cultivate it to reach its full potential, not the small town dreams of a man with no vision of his own. The good and the bad news is that the first edition and Volume 1 as a whole, are considered collectors items and worth a mint alone. Michael knows that and receives a distributor’s fee every time one of them is sold since they can only obtain it through Red Cape. Taking away Rage profits, Michael barely makes enough to cover store expenses and pay his mortgage along with child support to Mel.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. Michael isn’t paying support to Mel.”

“So how the fuck are they getting by?” Based on the guilty look on Brian’s face, Justin knew the answer. “Oh no fucking way! Brian, they decided to move; they decided to take your son away from you and they decided that you weren’t good enough to father JR. Although I love that little girl, why are you once again bailing out Michael and Lindsay from their own bullshit din?”

“I’m not doing it for them. In fact, although I’m sure Lindsay knows, I’m not doing any of it for her. Mel is the one who asked.”

“At Lindsay’s suggestion, I’m sure.” Justin huffed out a breath.

“Not as far as I know. She called me directly to ask for a loan and has been trying to pay it back ever since, which I keep redepositing into her account separate from Lindsay. It’s become sort of a game between she and I.”

“What ‘Pass the Buck?’ Brian why did you do it?”

He folded his lips inward for a moment before answering. “At first, it was because I had something to hold over her head. You know she and I run hot and cold when it comes to getting along. But then I listened to the desperation behind that shrewish voice and I couldn’t not respond to it. Things have been hard up there in Canada for them and I couldn’t let the kids suffer because Mel chose wrongly for the father of her child. What kind of man- what kind of father would I be- if I knowingly let that happen? So I made an executive decision and paid their mortgage up through the rest of last year. But now that they have decided to move back, Mel feels that she should pay what’s left of the balance of the mortgage so that I would have the money right away while she waits for the check from the broker in Canada.”

Justin looked at the man he loved more than his next breath. Everyday he seemed to learn something new about the man he’s always known underneath his public persona. And right then, Justin couldn’t have loved Brian more. “I’m proud of you Brian. And you are a good father, regardless of what the misguided idiot who is the epitome of a drop-in dad tells you.”

Brian looked away from the blue eyes regarding him so intently, mixed emotions heavy in his throat. Clearing them away with an forced ‘ahem’, Brian asked about the second thing Justin said he wanted to talk about. “So what’s with the other email?”

“It’s about tonight’s meet-and-greet actually. There’s been a new development.”

“Really? At this late stage?”

“Yeah, but I think it’s a good one. You know how Lindsay has always said that I couldn’t make it big as an artist living in the Pitts?”

“Yeah. We’ve already established that she didn’t know dick, although she occasionally likes to ride one.”

Justin snickered. “True. But there is an artist competition coming to Pittsburgh. A very prominent and lucrative one. They're going to be using the old steel mills and the Alwin building as the headquarters and for the sets. I’ve been invited to compete in it.”

“What kind of competition?”

“Skin Wars.”

“Skin Wars? Isn’t it that competition you’ve been obsessed with since the very first episode with... What’s her name?”

“Rebecca Romijn. Yep. That’s the one.”

“So what’s the prize?”

“Other than 100K and the chance to become an internationally known artist four years sooner than my five year plan?” Justin smiled and bit his lip before continuing his answer. “A chance to be one of the judges next season, under contract for three years, unlimited access to the finest materials and a five movie contract as lead artist with Kell-Jam Studios, which is the new studio owned by Brett Keller and Connor James. The movies are to be spaced out over a period of six years since each movie takes about a year to complete before it goes to editing. Although the show films in Chicago, the taping only happens twice weekly on Tuesdays and Wednesdays for it to air on Saturday nights.”

Brian’s eyes twinkled, catching the wave of Justin’s thinking. “Which means you can still live here at Britin and not sacrifice your career. Nor will you stall the momentum you’ve been gaining steadily since the move to the Big Apple. You must be thrilled to be able to send the big FUCK YOU to Lindsay. By the way, have you checked the numerous phone messages she’s left you?”

Justin frowned. “Yeah, I checked. She wants me to do a show in New York with her cunty fag friend, who acquired a gallery after leaving Art Forum.”

“So you’re not going to do the show?”

Justin rolled his eyes at the thought. “No fucking way! I will not give Satan Caswell a way to make money off of me just to make Lilith, also know as Lindsay Peterson, happy. I used to regard her as family, Brian. Now, I just think of her as a bitch I never knew.”

“Justin…” Brian began, hearing the pain in his lover’s voice.

“I know, Brian. I know. I have to put it behind me since some good came out of her pissing on my choices. Ultimately, we let her separate us.”

“True, but look how it all turned out. You have a fabulous agent in Miranda; you’ve already had two shows and are now being invited to participate in…” Brian looked at the computer screen then, his eyes going wide. “The Celebrity Edition of Skin Wars?! Justin, you’re already considered a fucking celebrity?!”

“Guess my time in California counted for something too, especially since I know for a fact that Brett, Connor and Mr. Nichols from the studio bought seven of my paintings between my first two shows and have commissioned three others. I suppose I should thank Michael for bullying me into it.”

“No. Like Lindsay, let his ass stew in the knowledge that he helped your career without meaning to. He was being evil and an emotional bully, just as he was when he told me that you’d heard the call from Johns Hopkins. I can look back at it now and see what Michael’s real aim was… to shut you out!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, but fuck it. All that matters is how we are now.”

“And just how are we, Mr. Kinney?”

“Hot and horny, so basically... fabulous.”

“That works!” And they made it work, over and over again for the rest of the afternoon.

***

LIBERTY DINER

TED

“No, it’s not a problem Brian. I already know the boards are quality. I’ll call Mr. Emerson and set the appointment up for next week. So is he really going to do it? When do you want me to have it done? That soon, huh? I’ll have Donovan go over the contracts again. It should prove interesting. Oops...gotta go! I’ll call you back the minute I leave or I’ll just meet you there.” I hang up the phone, truly in awe of what I’ve just heard. Justin’s a celebrity and is doing Skin Wars!

I knew about the temporary leases on both the Alwin building and the old steel mills. Of course, it’s my job to know, since Brian owns them separately from Kinnetik. I don’t even think he’s told Justin yet. We were looking into redeveloping the area since it’s technically prime real estate close to downtown where the Alwin building is located. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I forgot who’s just walked in.

“Did I hear correctly, Ted? Were you speaking to Brian just now?” Lindsay’s voice smoothly asks.

“Well hello to you too, Lindsay. Welcome back, and yes, that was Brian. It’s amazing that you heard that all the way from the door, in a crowded diner such as it is.” I didn’t hide the sarcasm in my voice. She seems to forget that Mel and I are best friends the way Daphne and Justin are. Sure, our friendship had its trials due to my former addiction, but once I came back to my senses, Mel was my biggest supporter and vice versa. Consequently, that also makes me privy to information about Lindsay and her motives that she would rather be kept quiet.

“Aww Ted, what’s wrong? Getting the itch again?”

“No, Lindsay. If I have an itch at all, it’s because I’m allergic to bullshit. So do me a favor and find another table.”

“Well I don’t feel like finding another table. The view from here is quite good, although the present company leaves a lot to be desired. So about Brian…”

“What about him?”

“Don’t you think I should know why he’s calling you instead of his son?”

I glare at her. Oh no Lilith, not today! Fuck! I’ve obviously been talking to Justin too much and have picked up on his name for Lindsay. But fuck it! Her depiction as the Devil’s wife is accurate, especially for what she and Michael are trying to do. “Lindsay, let’s cut the shit, shall we? We both know that Brian has been speaking to Gus on a regular basis. It’s YOU, who hasn’t heard from him. Why that is… well, that’s none of your business. What he’s been doing with his time that he won’t call you back… again, none of your business. And while we are on the subject of Brian, let’s switch it to Justin for a moment. I think a certain warning is called for in this situation. Leave him alone! Your attempts at ruling him have failed; it’s time to give up the ghost, stop beating a dead horse and move on. He’s not going to do what you want, regardless of how much you badger him and Brian to make your dreams his reality.”

Lindsay applauded. “Bravo Ted. I see you’ve stolen Brian’s balls. You even managed to sound like him to a degree that’s commendable. But you forget one thing: I’m not one of your subordinates at Kinnetik and I will not be spoken to in such a manner. I think Melanie will have plenty to say about it when I tell her.”

“I already do, Lindsay,” Mel said from behind her. Had I not been watching, I might have missed the initial surprise and then, the brief flash of anger enter the brown eyes still regarding me. “Ted, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mel.” I stood up to kiss her cheek. “Despite Canada not being agreeable for the long-term, you look well.”

“Yeah, being out of the Novotny orbit does have its privileges. So how are things?” She asks me, deliberately ignoring Lindsay. Yep, something is definitely rotten in the milk there, judging by the pinched look on Lindsay’s face.

“Things are well. Kinnetik keeps growing and I’m busier than ever.”

“Yet you still manage to have lunch on Brian’s dime and speak to Brian when his best friends have yet to?” Lindsay sneers.

Clearing my throat, I address her. “First, for a college graduate, you are really ignorant if you don’t know that by State and Federal law, I am entitled to a lunch break. Now when that happens is anyone’s guess because I actually have a career which I love and sometimes requires me to be flexible in my schedule as such. As for your second complaint, I would say to take it up with Brian, but you see… he’s spending his time doing something he actually wants to do and talking the person he actually wants to speak with. Obviously, that isn’t you. You know, bitterness really doesn’t suit you Lindsay; it just makes you look sallow.”

“How dare you speak to me that way?! I’m the moth…” Lindsay’s tirade was cut off by the chuckle/hiccup coming from my left, in the form of Melanie.

“And how is Justin?” Mel asks. “Where is he anyway?”

“At a meet and greet with Brian by his side. The producers of Skin Wars are meeting with him tonight.”

“Skin Wars? The reality crap that comes on tv for artists who couldn’t use their talents adequately to become important in the art world? Please tell me Justin isn’t getting involved with that talentless drivel?!”

“He sure is, but just one question Lindsay: if you’re as good as you apparently think you are, where are your marvelous works of art? The ability to engage in that talentless drivel as you put it, is worth a small fortune in certain circles. But in order to be considered for this particular competition, you have to be an established artist. So I guess that leaves you out!” I taunt her.

I really don’t get her idea of success, since all she’s ever managed to do for herself is sell paintings, never creating anything notable herself. Now that’s not to say that curators don’t have value, but they would never put an artist down unduly simply because they aren’t able to achieve their own dreams. At least, I wouldn’t like to think so. “Lindsay, take my advice, some I’m sure you’ve heard over and over again. Find your own life, raise the son you’ve nearly broken your uterus to birth, and leave Justin’s life and career alone! You won’t like the consequences if you don’t.” I get up to leave the Diner, placing my tip underneath my coffee cup. I have to get to the Alwin meet-and-greet as soon as possible.

“Where are you going? I just got here,” Mel asks me.

“I know, but business calls.” I tell her, but then see the despondent look on her face. “Hey, what are you doing right now?”

“Nothing of importance,” she tells me, watching Lindsay gasp and frown out of the corner of her eye. “The kids are spending the night with Deb at her insistence so that I go out and have some fun on my first night back.”

“I believe that she said we should go out and have some fun, Mel,” Lindsay tells her through gritted teeth.

“Yeah well, since you’re not my definition of fun anymore, I’ve decided to exclude you from my first child-free evening since we’ve moved.”

“I haven’t had a night free either you know.”

“Of course, you haven’t. It was the afternoons or early evenings when I had to get the children from daycare while you were fucking the Curator and his Bi-wife. Ah, I see you think I didn’t know about that, did you? Well it doesn’t matter, Lindsay. I’ve only been staying with you long enough to figure out what I want to do. Suddenly, I’m so happy you decided that we didn’t need to get married in Canada; it makes dissolving our partnership, such as it is, easier. Since we have joint custody with Brian, I figured that Gus will stay with me until you can get re-established with a job and apartment of your own. Since Sidney won’t rehire you because of the whole Sam thing, you should begin to look elsewhere. So what are we doing tonight, Ted?” Melanie asks as if she didn’t just drop the metaphorical atomic bomb on Lindsay.

I have to give it Mel, when she is out to destroy someone, she goes at it full-tilt, without worrying about the catastrophe she leaves behind. Reminds me of Brian. “Well Mel, first thing we have to do is get you dressed.”

“Excuse me, but Melanie, we really need to talk about this!” Lindsay tries again.

“I’ve already said everything I need to say. Whatever you didn’t hear, you can ask someone else. I’m sure everyone has heard and are just waiting to fill you in along with all of the Avenue. As for you Ted, lead the way. I’m ready to get out of here. Outside of the other patrons, the company has become stifling.”

“Well Lindsay did always suck all the air out of the room,” I tell her.

“That’s not all she sucks… but that’s a conversation for another day. In the meantime, let’s get this show on the road!”

We both leave behind a stunned Lindsay, who looks like her world just crashed. I suppose it did, since both her cash cow and prize bull have escaped her penny-hungry pen. Guess Lindsay has, at long last finally learned a valuable lesson, but it has come a day late and several dollars short. Mess with the bull and get the horns… even if it’s from a very pretty bulldyke!

***

LINDSAY

I can’t believe what’s just happened, first with Ted and then with Melanie. Who the fuck do those two think they are?! If she thinks she’s about to escape her viciousness unscathed, she has another think coming.

Pulling out my cellphone, I know exactly what I have to do. The very first thing I have to do is appeal to Brian. He and Melanie can’t stand each other, no matter that they have just recently started aligning themselves with each other. That’s another thing that can be laid at Justin’s door. Had he just stayed where his ass belonged, Brian would be here with me when I need him most! Well let me just take care of this matter first, before I deal with the other.

“Yes, I would like to speak with the person in charge of the casting for Skin Wars, please. This is Justin Taylor’s agent, Miranda Charles.”

I wait for a few minutes before someone comes back on the line. “Hello. Who’s speaking?” A woman’s voice comes on the line.

“This is Miranda Charles. I regret to inform you that Justin Taylor will not be able to participate in the competition. He has a prior commitment with the Caswell Gallery formerly known as the Swinton Gallery in New York City.”

“That’s funny, because I sent an email telling that cunty fag that Justin will NOT be appearing in his opening or any other show the pretentious prick has. Justin doesn’t like him and neither do I, so it was really a no-brainer and no hardship to cancel what a jealous, untalented, vicarious-living hack tried to arrange with him. By the way, Lindsay, this is Miranda, Justin’s true agent. You’ll be hearing from my new attorney, who just walked in the door. Ah, Melanie… so good to see you! No, no Lindsay’s on the line, impersonating me and trying to get Justin out of doing the show and into Caswell’s gallery. Oh, don’t worry darling, we’ll have you fixed up in no time; just let me call Pepper and she’ll fit you immediately. Hello Lindsay, checkmate dear. Bye now!” She tells me, laughing and hanging up.

Bitches!

***

“SHE DID WHAT?!?!” Justin exploded as Miranda filled him in on Lindsay’s latest stunt. He was of a mind to find her and drop her in the middle of the Ohio River.

“Hey, calm down. I handled it. I should also let you know that I told her that you and I hired Mel. I know you hadn’t wanted that knowledge to go public yet but…” Miranda soothed him.

“No I hadn’t, but as usual, Lindsay leaves a person no choice. It’s no secret that Brian and I regretted firing Mel as our personal attorney when I moved to New York. It’s just that she and Lindsay had gotten back together and we knew that Lindsay would badger information out of her at every turn. She’s always had a blind spot when it came to Lindsay. Brian had too for awhile, but it took certain actions on her part to open his eyes.”

“Well I’m glad he did. It also seems that she’s opened her own. Before coming over here, Ted told me that Lindsay tried to make a scene in the Diner and that Melanie rained on her parade… more like stomped on it really.” Then Miranda filled him in on Mel informing Lindsay that they were no longer together.

“How is Mel feeling about it? That must have hurt.”

“I’m actually fine with it Baby,” Mel answered, coming upon them. She was stunning in a pantsuit that was such a deep red that it looked black. “It was long overdue, if you ask me. I never should have tried again with her.”

“You can’t help who you love, Mel.”

“That’s true in the case of you and Brian, but not for Lindsay and I. We were together because we were each other’s safety net; financial for her and for me, it was the emotional safety, although questionably so now. It took a while for me to know and understand the difference, but well… it’s better late than never, I guess.”

Justin nodded. He understood exactly what Mel was talking about. He’d gone through something similar during the whole Ethan folly. He often wondered if the reason he was with Ethan at the time was because he was safe. Brian challenged him at every turn about his decisions and to get him to think about situations from every angle instead of always giving into his impulses. Being with Ethan was easy, especially at a time when Justin just needed a rest from conflicting feelings and second-guessing himself.  It was comforting in a way to say the words that he would never feel for the musician. Sure, he liked Ethan well enough, but it was never anything to the degree of what he’d felt for Brian. There was safety in that knowledge.

“So what’s next for you?” Justin asked her.

“Well I’ve long since recovered from Lindsay, even after this last affair she had with a husband and his wife. I guess the fact that I basically shrugged off the whole episode was telling in and of itself. I just needed to bide my time until we could get back here. Now that we’re back, there really isn’t anything holding me down.”

“Oh I don’t know about that, Sugar Lips. I remember just how much you loved to be held down while I took care of certain things.”

“Leda! Wow!  What are you doing here?!” Mel exclaimed, turning around to face her ex-girlfriend.

“Working. I’ve been the Head Photographer for the show since it started. But did I hear right? You and Frigid Bitchzilla are through?”

“Yeah. You did.”

Leda smiled, then placed a firm kiss to Mel’s lips before saying, “Good. Then that means you won’t feel guilty when I hold you down later tonight. That is, if you’re willing…”

“You still do that thing with your tongue I loved?”

“Nah, that was a Leda special just for you. I’ll pull it out of retirement tonight. Nothing like getting reacquainted in one of the ways that always suited us.” She wagged her eyebrows and smirked, leaving no doubt that she was in full-on predator mode.

“Oh God, Brian! Please get over here and save me from mental images of lezzy sex! Oh God, my brain….MY BRAIN! Make them stop, Brian!” Justin moaned, causing all of them to laugh.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. I’ll make sure your dick is still long and strong.” Brian dragged Justin away, to the loud guffaws happening behind them.

“Nice to see they haven’t changed,” Leda said.

“They have,” Mel answered her as she watched the two men, playfully tussling while entering the bathroom. “They got stronger.”

CHAPTER 2: THE MEET AND GREET

Brett and Connor walked into the Alwin building along with a very special guest. The other contestants were already milling about, talking to each other while Justin, Brian, and their team were off in one of the corners already planning their strategy. According to the rules, each contestant was allowed to pick from the hired models assembled, where they would be assigned for the duration of the six weeks. Justin thought this process was a bit like choosing livestock, but it was a necessary evil in this world, where art was everything and the right model made the work come alive. It was paramount that he choose wisely. In such a cutthroat competition among professionals, some directly from Hollywood and looking to make an even bigger name for themselves, it wasn’t unheard of that models could be bribed to sabotage the frontrunner.

“Justin Taylor? I thought that was you!”

Justin inwardly cringed at the nasally voice he dreaded hearing. He knew that Stacy Peete was invited to participate, but had not given an answer in the affirmative. Looks like she decided to, after all. Fuck! “Stacy, a pleasure to see you again,” Justin answered in his full-on WASP manners.

She eyed him as if he was a bug to be crushed, knowing that he was lying through his teeth. To say that she didn’t like him would be an understatement. She found that working with him on the failed Rage project grated on her nerves, in ways no one else would dare to do so. She found Justin high-handed, condescending, and an overall pain in the ass. Part of that had to do with the fact that as the creator of the comic, he retained his creative control despite the fact that she was technically his boss. Brett had allowed that job title to be in name only. As a result, she was sure that Justin had fucked Brett into compliance. She used her considerable influence within the Hollywood community to undermine him at every turn, but it hadn’t worked. She was still pissed that Brett and Connor had told her that if she couldn’t respect the young blond’s talent and opinion as the person who knew both the subject matter and how he was to be drawn, then she would find herself out of a job rather quickly. It was time to put this upstart in his place once and for all.

“I find myself wondering why you are here. I thought the competition was for celebrity artists only. I don’t remember hearing about you working on other projects in L.A. after Rage was cancelled.”

Justin smiled, knowing exactly what the bitch was trying to imply. “You wouldn’t have unless you’ve made a name for yourself in Fine Art circles. Since leaving L.A., I’ve had six shows, two of which were solos and quite a few commissions. My present work is currently selling in the six-figure range and I’ve only been stationed in New York for the last year. I just recently moved back to Pittsburgh to remain with my partner when I received this illustrious invitation. Win or lose, it’s where I’m staying.”

At the mention of Justin’s partner, she turned to look at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He looked vaguely familiar to her, although she couldn’t figure out why. She simpered, extending her hand to the man she wouldn’t mind becoming better acquainted with. She’d always believed that men were gay because they hadn’t found the right woman. It would give her great pleasure to steal this morsel from atop Justin Taylor. “Stacy Peete. Would you mind modeling for me?”

Brian laughed in response. He had seen the conniving gleam in her eye when Justin settled in a little closer into his side. He knew all about the contentious battle of wills between Justin and this woman while he was on the Rage set. Whatever she thought, it was time to disabuse her of her preconceived notions right now. “Nice to meet you. I guess you could call me the original Rage, but Justin here, calls me Brian Kinney.”

“Brian Kinney, as in the CEO of Kinnetik? Well now I understand why Justin has been allowed to enter the competition since your company is sponsoring it.”

“Our company.”

“Pardon?”

“I said ‘our’ company. Surely, in all your knowledge, you’re aware that Justin’s name is not simply Taylor anymore. It’s Justin Taylor-Kinney and has been for over a year. We may have cancelled our ceremony, but before he left for New York, we decided to make quite a few things legal. Congratulations, you’re among one of the first people to know that.  

“Besides, our company isn’t the only company sponsoring the competition. I understand that Highland Motion Pictures is sponsoring you, Stacy. Congrats on that fete since they are notoriously tight-fisted with their money, preferring to employ mediocre talent instead of paying the astronomical fees for the best in the business. I suppose they must have decided to update their business practices since you’re here,” Justin said. Even though his voice was innocent-sounding, it was clear that the implication was not.

A deep-throated chuckle interrupted the contretemps before the incensed woman could respond. “So the angel’s horns show once again, do they Justin?” Brett said as he and Connor came to stand next to him.

“I was merely making a well-known observation, and congratulating Stacy on something that no one would ever think was possible. Since I’ve been out of Hollywood, working steadily on other projects including our successful businesses, I couldn’t have known any different, now could I?” Justin smiled, but the three men could see the deviousness in the gesture.

“Put away your claws for now, Justin. And Stacy, we both know just why you are at Highland right now, so I would advise that whatever antagonism you’re trying for, should be stopped immediately. You’re already here as a last minute replacement for George Covington, so try to make the most of the opportunity. You may not get another like it.”

“Duly noted,” the seething woman said through gritted teeth. She stormed away towards the bar, determined to continue this at a later time when there wasn’t anyone to overhear just what she wanted to say to the arrogant little punk.  

“Good riddance, but now while I have your attention, Justin, I’d like to introduce you to…”

“RuPaul! Oh my… It’s wonderful to meet you. Needless to say I am a huge fan,” Justin said, extending his hand. “And this is my life partner, Brian Kinney.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. I have to admit that I had a bit of a fangirl moment myself when Brett and Connor told me you were willing to do this competition. And I know I’m not supposed to have favorites... I mean, you all are elite artists, so it most certainly will be difficult to choose just one, but I have to admit that I am thoroughly in love with your work. I remember telling Brett some time ago when he’d let me see the original panels for the movie and the comic, that you would go far in a short time, and here you are.”

“That’s right. Justin, one thing to know about Ru is that he’s a fortune teller in that he can tell when someone carries that elusive ‘it’ factor. He said the same when he met me for the first time,” Connor tells him. “By the way, how have you been?”

Justin shrugged coolly. “I’ve been doing alright for myself, Connor, as you can see. Brian and I… well, once I had been back awhile, we decided to make things official. So whereas I still use Taylor for my artistic career, my official last name is Taylor-Kinney as is Brian’s.” Justin finishes, barely keeping the triumph out of his voice. Their last parting wasn’t exactly under the best circumstances. Justin wouldn’t pretend otherwise, but that really no longer mattered.

“Well, I’m happy to see that I was completely wrong in my assumptions that you and he would be over within the year after your return. I was basing that on all of my former relationships with men outside of the business.”

“You know what they say about people who assume…” Brian interjected. During their hiatus, and before they found out about this competition, Justin had finally told Brian of his time in Hollywood. It wasn’t difficult to understand why Justin was obstinate about not going to New York at first. As trusting as Justin was before the bashing, was as distrustful as he’d become afterward. Hollywood reinforced that.

Connor turned to Brian then. “So you’re the man I would have gotten to play… well in a role on-screen anyway.”

Brian laughed then before retorting. “Do not even begin to insinuate that you played me off-screen either. The fact that Justin is standing here with me speaks volumes about what your true role was in the grand scheme of things. Everyone should use a dildo once in awhile- even if it’s a human one.”

“Boys, play nice…” Justin choked back a laugh.

“What? I was being nice.” Brian smiled down into his lover’s eyes. “Besides, there’s really no need to rehash the past, right Con...nor?”

“Well, Mr. Kinney, you are indeed a mischief maker. I look forward to getting to know you better,” RuPaul, who was witnessing the entire contretemps, laughed. “If Justin is half as plucky as you are, this competition is sure to have fireworks!”

“He’s much worse than I am, I assure you,” Brian drawled, causing the others to snicker and effectively quelling the tension for the moment.

“So have you decided on your models yet, Justin?” Brett asked.

“Yes and no. I think- well if it’s allowed- that I want to use most of my own people with the odd model or two. Has Cheryl Hargrave been contracted yet?” Justin knew that as the show’s host, RuPaul would know.

“Not that I know of, but she is scheduled to appear. As you know, she’s been on set as one of the make-up artists for that new Glenn Dunston movie. How do you want to use her?”

Justin thought about it a moment. Without doubt, Cheryl was an incredible makeup artist. Having worked with her during Rage, they had become fast friends. She was also the prototype when he came up with Melanie’s Ragian counterpart, DynoDyke while he was on location in L.A. She was an excellent model and could often anticipate his request for a new pose before he even asked for one. Decision made he said, “Well since I have access to the original DynoDyke, I think I’ll contract Cheryl as lead assistant on my team. This way if Mel is unable to participate, I still have the backup. But in the meantime, I know she can use the steady work.”

“And more importantly, she can’t be bought,” Brett interjected. “She’ll always feel a major loyalty towards you Justin, and I have to say, it’s a smart move on your part to do it this way. What brought this on?”

With a look into Justin’s eyes, Brian nodded before answering Brett’s question. “We are encountering some… problems with a few of my friends.”

“You mean Michael and Lindsay?” Connor put in.

“Ah, Sunshine. Have you been talking about them behind their backs? For shame!” Brian mock scolded.

“Well I had to tell someone before I hopped back on a plane to Pittsburgh and ended up in jail. Do you know how many phone calls from the two of them I received in a half an hour, let alone a whole day?” Justin scowled.

“Well that explains the full voicemail several times when I tried to reach you while you were on break from set. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“And what exactly would you have done, Brian? You would have blown up at them, leaving you open to attack from Deb. And there was the surety of Gus being withheld in some vendetta until you apologized, per Lindsay’s instructions. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

Brian acknowledged the truth of Justin’s words by pulling him closer into his side and placing a kiss on his temple. Clearing his throat, he continued. “So, as you can see, all is not well in that quarter. But this time it’s them trying to interfere in some major decisions that Justin and I have made recently. We know that they are bound to get desperate, because we won’t budge.”

“So you think that they’re not above bribing the competition to sabotage Justin’s chances?” RuPaul asked, thoroughly intrigued by the conversation. Prior to meeting Justin face-to-face, he’d developed a fascination with the blond and his work. That also led to him researching Justin’s origins. Along with what Brett had told him about how the first issue came to be, he couldn’t help but admire Justin’s inner-strength which was obviously magnified by his larger-than-life companion.

“No, we don’t think so. We know so! You remember the old adage that desperation breeds strange bedfellows? Well you can’t get any stranger than Michael and Lindsay. Both want the same thing, which is me gone. But they also want Brian to themselves and for different, but at base, the same reason as well.”

“What do you mean?” Connor asked. He didn’t get the undertones of what Justin wasn’t saying aloud.

“Michael is married to Ben, who is HIV positive. In Michael’s mind, Brian is always supposed to take care of him. In the meantime, it’s okay if Brian fucks whomever he wants, including me, as long as when, at the end of Ben’s life, he’s emotionally available to live happily ever after with Michael. As for Lindsay, well that’s a bit more difficult to explain.

“Up until tonight, little Ms. Plans was in a long-term relationship with our attorney, Melanie, who is consequently a second mom to our son, Gus. In Lindsay’s mind, having me gone will not only give her a chance to live vicariously through my career, but will free Brian up to spend all of his time with her, under the guise of being a good father to Gus, while also keeping his money accessible to her and her alone. It’s going to kill her to know that although Brian and I did not go through with the planned commitment ceremony, on paper we are more married than any couple who is legally wed by the laws of the land. Even if, God forbid, something were to happen to Brian, she still wouldn’t see a penny. We also made sure that Mel moved all of Gus’ money that Brian pays in child support out of the account with her name on it. So yeah, she’s coming, but she’ll do it deviously. She’s already tried to impersonate my agent tonight to withdraw me from the competition. The problem with that was the receptionist knew my agent on sight and put Miranda on the phone to deal with Lindsay personally.”

“Good God, Taylor...oh sorry, Taylor-Kinney, you sure still come with a lot of drama. This competition will certainly not be boring with you all around!” Brett laughed. He remembered Justin’s frustration with Michael and Lindsay well, and it only seemed to have gotten worse over the years.

“Well what can I say? Brian can attest that life with me has never been boring!” Justin returned the laughter.

“No Sunshine, it never has.” Brian placed his hand at the small of Justin’s back and led him off back to their group, who had just assembled again for the opening ceremony.

Connor shook his head. “There goes my chance to…”

“Yeah, Connor. I doubt either of them will be willing to play now that they are finally back together in the same state. Besides, this is sort of our own honeymoon now that both of us have decided to be together in a la Taylor-Kinney fashion. Let’s just work on that for awhile and trick only if the mood suits us, okay?” Brett looked at his life-partner and best friend, hoping that he’d agree. Because of the nature of their business, they had agreed to an open relationship, acknowledging that they both will have needs that the other won’t always be local to fulfill. But while they were occupying the same place and space, Brett would really like the time to spend with Connor alone.

“Okay, darling. I could do that. Besides, you know as soon as the trick is gone, you’re the only one I have eyes and a memory for. Let’s enjoy finally coming to our senses and having time together. Goodness knows there will be plenty of nights ahead that we’ll wish for each other that will go unanswered.”

“True! So boys, stop having these lesbianic moments and be thankful for what you have right now,” RuPaul commanded them, leading them in the opposite directions that the Taylor-Kinneys had gone. “It’s time to get this competition underway!”

BEN and MICHAEL’S HOUSE

BEN

I’m sitting here listening to him rant again about not being able to reach Brian and Justin. One would think that after millions of unreturned phone calls, he would get the message that they don’t want to be bothered. I mean, seriously! I think if I was Brian and Justin, I would have changed my phone number, closed out my email address and moved to an undisclosed location by now. In Brian’s case, I also probably would have packed up the offices of Kinnetik and filed several restraining orders, just to ensure that he wouldn’t find me. I find it incredibly funny that Michael always refers to Justin as Brian’s stalker when in fact, all of his actions point out that it’s him who fits that description.

“Michael, do you know what the definition of a stalker actually is?”

“Yeah, I do!” I wait for him to answer. “It’s Justin fucking Taylor!”

“No! It’s Michael fucking Novotny-Bruckner...or should we just call you by Novotny, because you are about to be minus Ben Bruckner!”

I don’t wait for him to process what I’ve just told him, and grabbing my jacket, leave the house before I give into the temptation to throttle him. As I head to my car, I roll my eyes. Lindsay is walking dejectedly up the street and I can already tell it’s going to be a long fucking night. Anytime those two get together with their litanies of grievances, it always is. I’m so tempted right now to re-enter the house, heading straight for the fuse box to cut off all the electricity, then hop in my car to leave again, but it’s too late. It’s fucking too late!!

Tapping on my window and ringing her hands, she says, “Hello Ben. Is Michael at home?”

I sigh, wanting nothing more than to lie to her. But if I know my idiot life-partner, she’s here because in the midst of calling Brian, he’s also dialed her number for her to appear here. “Yeah, he’s in there, but do me a favor. Don’t buy into his ignorance. Brian and Justin are together, and they will remain TOGETHER. Don’t let him talk you into something that you can’t get out of. You won’t like the consequences if you do.” She frowns and I think that I may have gotten through to her. I was wrong!

“You know, that’s the second time today I received that specific warning. First, it was Ted, trying to fill Brian’s boots and now you. I don’t appreciate being threatened.”

“If you would stop acting like an entitled termagant in the guise of a caring friend, perhaps none of us would feel the need to threaten you. Well, you can’t say you weren’t warned. Have a good time with Michael, losing everything,” I tell her, as I start the engine to my car and drive away. I take a look into the rearview mirror, noticing the pinched look of fury on her face. I decide to call Mel to find out what’s been going on. I agree to meet her over at the Alwin Building, determined to find out exactly what I’m in for when I finally decide to return home. Based on her tone when we hung up, it’s as I thought. It’s going to be a long fucking night!

MICHAEL

I look at the door Ben just stormed out of. Did he just call me a fucking stalker and threaten to leave me? I shake my head vehemently. That can’t be true; my ears must be playing tricks on me! Besides, where the fuck would Ben go? No one is going to want him in his condition and furthermore, he’s supposed to take care of me. Hell, I take care of him, so we’re even.

I smile as I hear the knock on the door, thinking that this ruins Ben’s big exit. I knew he wasn’t going anywhere and now I get to gloat as he’s apparently locked himself out of the house. Now I have the upperhand and will make him agree to my terms before letting him back in!

“Michael, open this door. It’s Lindsay!”

Lindsay? What the hell is she doing here?! Oh that’s right. I accidentally dialed her while trying to reach Brian, yet again. She was fuming at Ted’s treatment and constantly being ignored by her protege. I open the door and she pushes past me, huffing and flinging herself on my couch. I recognize these signs.

I roll my eyes as I close the door and head to the kitchen to grab two beers. “Trouble in Muncherville again, Lindz? What did Mel do this time?”

“What did Mel do? I’ll tell you what the bitch did! After Ted scathingly embarrassed me, instead of defending me, she told me that our marriage is over. And then she had the temerity to tell me that she would be keeping Gus with her until I could get myself established with a job and an apartment.”

“The absolute nerve! Well, what does Brian have to say about that? I can’t imagine he’ll be too happy.”

“That’s the thing, Michael. He still hasn’t called me back. He’s at some fucking Meet and Greet with Justin for that ridiculous tv show. Meanwhile, I tried to get the obstinate little fuck to do my friend’s show at his new gallery in New York. I called, pretending to be his agent, to tell the administration of Skin Wars that Justin would not be competing and that he had a prior engagement in New York that he was doing, and do you know what happened?!”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“I’ll tell you what happened! His bitch of an agent Miranda got on the phone and threatened to have her new attorney file charges against me for impersonating her. She called me an untalented hack!” I nearly spit my beer in laughter, since for once, I agree with Miranda. “But it was the mention of who her new attorney is that’s really chapping my ass.”

“Well who is it?”

“MELANIE!!! That’s who it is! My fucking wife!”

“Soon-to-be-ex wife actually,” I interject. See, Lindz and I have this sort of love-hate relationship. Outside of our common goal to get rid of Justin permanently, she and I don’t really get along. So it’s actually a pleasure to pour salt in her wounds when I can.

“Thanks, I really needed that reminder. So what the fuck are we going to do? The fact that the competition is being held here in Pittsburgh means that Brian and Justin will be cohabitating all the time. If we don’t find a way to separate them now, after the competition it will be even more difficult!”

“First, calm down. Your voice is giving me a headache! Now let me think… Brian isn’t calling either of us back and I can’t even catch up to him at the loft.”

“Well, why don’t you use your key to wait him out? He has to come back some time.”

I narrow my eyes at her. The whole key issue is still a very sore point with me. “I can’t, remember? Boy Wonder cheated during that whole Tawdry Tournament and had the locks changed while we were at Woody's. I still don’t know how he did that!”

“Oh, Michael you’re such an idiot. Of course, he had his mother do it. She’s their real estate agent, after all. It’s amazing to me that you’re able to walk and chew gum at the same time, as dumb as you are. But as for comments that Justin cheated during the tournament, I highly doubt that. From all accounts that Melanie received from Ted and Emmett, he showed all the reasons why Brian finds his ass so interesting. I hear that you tried to emulate him. How’s your back, by the way?”

What a bitch she is to bring that up! “My back is FINE, fuck you very much. But back to the matter at hand… call Brian and tell him that Gus needs him. That should get him to call you back right away since as far as he knows, there could be a problem.”

She shakes her head. “That ship has sailed too, sadly, courtesy of Mel. I tried to call your mother to complain about what was going on and received an earful about my shenanigans and another warning about trying to use Gus in my headgames, as she calls them. She told me that since Mel arranged for the kids to stay the night with her, Mel is going to be the one she calls if there’s an emergency.”

“Fuck! Well what do you suppose we do now?” I couldn’t keep the desperation out of my voice, with Ben’s possible parting words still ringing in my ears. I’m still not sure that he actually said them, but I don’t want to take the chance that he didn’t.

“Wait! I think I have the perfect solution. We make Justin leave the competition… or at the very least fix it so that he doesn’t win.”

“How the fuck is that going to be possible? We don’t even know what the rules are and it’s not like we know anybody there.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Michael. I understand that Brett Keller and Connor James are in town for this competition. Surely, you still have their phone numbers. Couldn’t you call them and fish for a little information... about the contest, I mean. As for finding some accomplices to help us sabotage Justin, you leave that to me.”

“You? How come you?” She isn’t any more well-connected than I am.

“Oh little fool, are you an artist? No. Your only talent is in writing mediocre, imagination-less storylines for a comic that I know Justin isn’t willing to draw for anymore. Yes, I know all about that since Mel is his attorney. It wasn’t hard to overhear conversations between them and draw my own conclusions from that. Anyway, since it’s being held here in Pittsburgh of all places, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where most of the visiting artists will be staying. I’m sure it’s going to be at one of the nicer hotels since they are all celebrities in their own right.”

“Then why is a little nobody like Justin being included?”

Lindsay sneers at me. “Because idiot, Justin had made quite a name for himself, even before I made sure he went to New York. He’s the darling of the art world, and I intend to see that he remains so. Staking out the hotels, I’m certain that there has to be at least one other artist who isn’t as enamored of the little blond as the rest of the world is. If I can find that particular needle in the haystack, or preferably a few of them, then our success at separating Brian and Justin will be assured. He’ll have no reason to stay here and will return to New York, where he belongs.”

“What about Rage? I need him, too! No one else can draw Brian with as much passion and as many nuisances as Justin does.”

“Oh, Michael, you are such a small thinker. Which really shouldn’t be so surprising to me, considering how uneducated you are. But to answer your question, if the plan works out the way I’m hoping, he’ll be much too busy to draw your little comic. But on the bright side, he’ll also be much too busy to keep gracing Brian’s bed and that means…”

I smile. “I’ll have my fucking best friend back for good this time!”

“And Gus will have his father back as well.” She nods. “So let’s get to planning. You call Connor or Brett and I’ll begin my search for the elite hotels within the city.”

ALWIN BUILDING RECEPTION ROOM

MELANIE

Ben arrived a little while ago, only to be hustled off by Emmett and Drew. Thankfully, he and Drew are the same size, and once I told them that Ben was meeting me here, Brian suggested that Drew lend him a suit. It’s funny how my relationship with Brian has evolved over the past two years without Lindsay’s direct involvement with him. I have to admit to being surprised to find myself actually liking the man, and not the myth that’s been fed to me repeatedly down through the years.

It was hard at first to reconcile just how much Brian had changed. Oh, he still had that Devil May Care but You’ll Never Find the Fuck I Give persona, but it was more about the things he does behind the scenes that no one knows about. It’s in the quiet way he takes care of everyone while finally letting Justin take care of him. I know that was always a sore point between the two men. Justin wanted to do it; Brian didn’t think he deserved it. I think once he let himself not only believe Justin, but believe in him, the changes happening with Brian really began to manifest themselves in how he dealt with people, namely me.

It broke my heart to have to appeal to Brian for money. I won’t lie, and to say otherwise would have anyone looking at me sideways. To me, it was an admission of failure; a hard truth that I couldn’t take care of my family alone. It wreaks havoc on the psyche when you have the personality and iron-will that stereotyping assholes believe belongs only to men. In their eyes, you become anything other than a human, and it gives them the right to throw ‘I told you so’ into your face. And that’s exactly what I had expected to receive from Brian. I’m happy to admit that I was the asshole for buying into every stereotype heaped on him by his supposed best friends. It also brought home how little any of us really knew about him… well, all of us except for Justin. I think Em found that out firsthand when he went to Brian on Ted’s behalf because of the trouble at Jerk@Work. Then Ted came around when Brian gave him his dream job, basically fresh out of rehab. But it wasn’t until I needed my own version of a modern day Robin Hood, that I understood exactly how Brian does things.

Lindsay was working- or should I say, fucking around- at the Museum, barely bringing home enough money, which I later found out was because she was spending most of her pay on her affair. The lawyer I was working for died suddenly and the firm had to close. Even though I was only working as a paralegal and almost ready to take the Canadian Bar Exam, my check was still larger than Lindsay’s by half. So to say that I was in dire straits would be the understatement of the Century. It had come down to having the roof over our heads or feeding the kids. Lindsay would do nothing but complain constantly; she certainly wasn’t contributing. The money from Gus’ support covered the mortgage and basic utilities for the month, but nothing more. And Michael… well let’s not even talk about that selfish ass, who wants the title, and demands that Jenny call him ‘Dad,’ but takes none of the responsibilities. I still feel like a fucking schmuck for choosing him!

Anyway with all of this going on, I had no choice but to call Brian. And you know what he said?? No problem... that was it. Just, no problem. No ifs, ands, buts, muss or fuss, no scoldings or sarcastic comments, just came through for Gus, Jenny, and me in a clinch. I still marvel at that, especially since I never failed to throw the times he needed me in his face. In hindsight, I can truly say that I’m ashamed of how I acted towards him. My only excuse is that I was unreasonably jealous: because my wife always compared us; because he was a man who was succeeding, while I was a smart woman who was struggling to break the glass ceiling in my career; because if I’d had my choice to do it all over again, I would have been the female version of Brian Kinney.

“Having a good time?” Leda asks, coming to sit on the stool at the bar next to me.

“I have to admit that I am. I’ve never been in the same room with an eclectic mix of Hollywood A-listers, artists, and experts. Miranda took me around and introduced me to everyone. It was surreal that because I represent Justin, they asked if I was going to think of expanding my practice.”

“Well are you? I mean as an entertainment attorney, you could not only set your own hours, but attract an entirely new clientele, while still handling civil rights cases. It’s not a bad option to have,” Leda tells me, making me think about it from a different perspective. “Just look at what you’ve done for Justin and Brian. Kinnetik Enterprises is making a killing off of this deal, whether Justin wins the competition or not. Furthermore, they’ve fixed it so, even now, you will never have to worry about money again.”

“How did you…”

“Know? Well that’s easy. The buster and bitch Lindsay was screwing just happen to be my brother and sister-in-law. Imagine my surprise when I attended a party for last year’s winner of this show and she was there.”

“She saw you and said nothing?!” I ask her, getting pissed. I remember that night since the kids had to stay at the sitter’s house for two more hours than they should have. Lindsay had called to tell me that there was an impromptu party that she just had to attend. I should have known that it was the party in her thong that she was talking about!

“She didn’t see me, but I saw them fucking in the third floor bathroom. How did you think you found out?”

“The wife contacted me and sent me the photos.”

“Yeah, that was my idea. They have this rule about the spouses of their lovers being in agreement with their extracurricular activities. I told her that there was no way you knew or would approve of Lindsay gapping her flat ass open for them while you were home with the kids. You are still a career dyke, aren't you? Besides, I knew if I had told you, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. If you had told me, I would have left with the kids before we moved back to Pittsburgh. You were many things to me, Leda, but never a liar,” I tell her. And I mean that… When Leda and I split up, it wasn’t because she was trying to cover her tracks or make excuses about why she had done the things she did. Much like Brian and Justin when they separated before the bombing, I just figured out what I couldn’t and wouldn’t tolerate, and we parted ways amicably. After all these years, I still trust her to tell me the truth, even if it hurts me.

Ben came upon us then, looking as dapper as I’d ever seen him. Drew’s suit fit him as if it was made just for him. Michael is a lucky little bastard, and he doesn’t even acknowledge it! “Ladies, how are you?” He leans over and busses each of us on our cheeks.

“Fine, and damn Ben, so are you!” Leda tells him, making him blush and grin. “If ever I was to switch teams, Sugar Lips, I know who’d I be trying to get.”

“Not Brian?” Ben asks. I can tell he wouldn’t be bothered by the answers she’ll give.

“Oh, him too and Drew. Yes, Darling, nothing like a fine man-meat sandwich with me as the mayo.”

We all laugh. “Fortunately, Brian doesn’t like mayo, so I guess you’ll just have to do with me and Drew.”

“Tried it once, but it was just too moist and clingy. Never will I do it again!” Brian says as he signals the bartender.

“Are we talking about mayo or Lindsay?” I just had to know.

“Both!” We were all snickering when Justin joined our circle, along with Ted, Emmett, and Miranda. “So what are we all drinking?” He takes the drink orders and then ushers us all to a table in the far right corner. I have to admit, the view is amazing from up here above the City.

Once the bartender arrives, we settle in for a chat. “So what brought you here tonight, Ben?” Justin asks him.

“Oh nothing much, except the Coffee Clutch of Cunt-ery going on at my house. The misguided Mr. Novotny is on his usual self-absorbed tirade and has been joined by the poor, the lonely, and thoroughly confused Ms. Peterson. I gave Michael an ultimatum that I’m sure hasn’t even registered within his malnourished brain.”

“Malnourished? But then again, I’ve seen him eat,” Justin says, earning a chuckle all the way around.

“No, he’s still eating more food than the Diner has, while not contributing anything. I’m talking about his Brian-starved brain. I swear, for someone whom he’d never fucked, Michael is completely obsessed.”

“That’s part of the problem. For Lindsay, it’s the reverse,” I interject. “Brian, why the hell did you fuck her?”

“Had to see if I liked mayonnaise. I didn’t.” He shudders and we laugh again. “Besides, that’s not exactly what’s driving them now. It’s more that I won’t listen to the garbage they spew anymore or let them play games with mine and Justin’s life again. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, wrote the check, and still don’t like mayonnaise or hot dogs, either.”

“More like half of a vienna sausage” Emmett comments, and we all look at him. “What? I lived with him for three years. You didn’t think I’d have been caught off guard by that second belly button. No prizes for guessing just why he’s a complete bottom.”

Justin jumped right in. “Ben, you have my sympathies. You must be tired. I mean having to listen to that whine while you’re doing all the work… Must have been enough to drive an insane man back to good sense!”

“Put your claws away, Sunshine,” Brian scolds him, laughing. I have to admit to doing the same. Justin still looks so innocent after all these years, but he couldn’t have been from the onset, if Brian still kept him around. Unlike Michael and Lindsay, I know it had to be for something other than sex. I might have wanted to believe otherwise, but I never could make myself live in that particular optical illusion, no matter what I might have said publicly.

“So how do we control the situation? Lindsay has already tried the Craswell track. I doubt she’s going to stop at that,” Miranda asks.

“No, she won’t. And now that she has Michael agreeing with her, she’ll be fucking impossible! Well, even more impossible, I should say.

“Well Smelly Melly, you were married to her for fourteen years. Surely you can think like Lindsay, no matter how much it hurts your head, and tell us what she’ll do,” Brian drawls to me, pulling Justin closer to him. I swear, glue couldn’t get between them, let alone people…

“Let’s not forget Michael in all of this. And if I know him, he’ll try the same game he always has. Finding someone to break the two of you up,” Ben says.

“What do you mean?” Justin’s ears perk up.

“I don’t know if you know, but a certain violinist is back in town and has been asking around town about you,” Emmett tells us.

Ben’s eyes narrow, along with the rest of ours. “So, that’s what the fucking secret smiles have been about when he thought I wasn’t looking, huh? Well I think it’s time to fix that, too.” He pulls out his phone. I have an idea about who he’s going to call, but I stop him.

“Hold on, Ben. Let’s figure out their complete angle first, and then we’ll start planning. What’s the one thing they both want out of this, more than anything?”

“That’s easy,” Justin answers. “They want me gone, both for different reasons, but at the same time, for the same reason. They want Brian to themselves.” When we look at him intently, he tells us to hear him out. “Lindsay, of course, is hellbent on playing my stage mother. She pushed all of Brian’s buttons to get him to agree with her that it was in my best interests to leave Pittsburgh and go where she's always wanted to be. Brian, how many times within the first week I was gone did she call you?”

“I can answer that since we argued every fucking time she did. The answer is every fucking hour between the hours of seven in the morning and eleven at night , once we arrived in Toronto,” I tell them. They all, except for Brian and Justin, murmur in surprise.

Justin nods. “And how many times did Michael either call or show up during that week and afterwards, until I returned? And when you were on business trips or visiting me, how many times then?”

Ben snickers. “You can’t possibly want an actual number.”

“Nope, I’ll let you all draw your own conclusions on that front. But the point is, that during my time in New York, Michael was absolutely determined that I still draw Rage. So whereas he wants me out of BRIAN’s life on a permanent basis, he knows that Red Cape Comics will suffer completely without me. As for his Wonder Twit, Lindz, my career gives her a way to see the art world close up… or so she thinks. I can’t begin to tell you how many calls and emails I have received, practically demanding that I fire Miranda and hire her. Then when she doesn’t make any leeway with me, she calls Miranda’s office to give her opinion of how we are running my career. So yes, their motive is two-fold in their purpose, and they will do anything to get it.”

Brian nodded. “Ted, you said that Lindsay knows about the Skin Wars competition?”

“Yeah, she was practically frothing at the mouth when I told her about it, and I warned her to leave Justin alone. Why?” he asks.

“Because what do you want to bet that she’s trying to find allies within this competition? If Justin fails, she can crow about how she was right and that he would have been so much further along in his career if he’d only listened to her. Michael will think that Justin’s been thoroughly cowed, and would realize that he could never want to be or do anything more than draw the fucking comic. So ladies and gentlemen, that’s their plan,” Brian finishes.

“Makes sense… a whole lot of sense actually, since Justin and I have been running his career as he wants it done despite her trying to bully her way into his businesses. She’s just that arrogant to automatically assume that if Justin doesn’t win, he will fire me. Which, winning this really makes us no nevermind in the grand scheme of things, since it’s all about exposure on a much grander scale. So she’s going to look just as dumb when this is all over and her plans go for naught,” Miranda finishes, chuckling.

“Ben, make your call. It’s time to teach these two a lesson in subterfuge they will never forget,” Justin says, wagging his eyebrows.

Ben smiles back before dialing. “Hello, Deb…”

CHAPTER THREE: HERE COMES THE DUD

DEB

So Michael thinks that he can once again stick his big ass head in the middle of Brian and Justin’s business, does he? After I received the call from Ben last night, Carl and I got to talking. He asked me one simple question: how would I feel if his ex-girlfriend Cathy was trying to make a play for him again, even knowing that he and I were back together? The answer was that I would happily do time in jail for scratching the floral-print wearing bitch’s eyes out! He chuckled and told me that I then knew what I needed to do… what I do best, and that is, run interference.

With that thought in mind, I came into work while Carl stayed at home with Gus and Jenny. I don’t work here at the Diner as much as I used to, acknowledging that I needed to cut down on my hours, not only for Carl, but for my health too. Standing on my feet for more than forty hours a week for as many years as I have done it was beginning to really take its toll. So by agreement, I work no more than twenty-five hours a week and am paid as if I am in semi-retirement. I have to Brian to thank for this arrangement. He always did take care of my needs, in ways that even I couldn’t anticipate. My shift was scheduled for just after the breakfast rush until just after the lunch rush was finished. But after speaking with Ben, I’m glad that Carl and I agreed that I should come in earlier than I was expected. As I entered, I could see that we made the right decision, since there was Michael, talking to the one person I feared he’d run into… Ethan Gold.

I make my way to the booth, remaining behind Michael and out of his sight, just in time to hear the latest round of bullshit that my lying ass son uttered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen and spoken to him. You know he mentions you A LOT. I mean, since he’s been living in New York, he keeps toying with the idea of looking you up. He said that maybe now that the years have passed, maybe you have both matured enough to give a relationship a real effort this time.”

“I would like that but… well, what about Brian? I’ve seen some of Justin’s artwork recently and although as beautiful as ever, Brian still featured heavily in them… or more accurately, his feelings for and about him. His obsession with Brian Kinney is what drove us to break up the first time. No relationship can survive a ghost in their beds, Michael.”

Before my idiot son could speak again, I interrupted. “Oh that’s something Michael knows very well Ethan, since he’s had Brian within his for as long as I can remember. The ghost, I mean.”

“M- Ma, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming in until later.”

“Obviously. As for what I’m doing here… I’m doing what you should be doing, which is working. But apparently, there is more to my job than I bargained for today and that is to correct some untruths, by delivering some hard new ones.” I then turn to his dining companion. “Ethan, I would say that it’s lovely to see you again, and it would be, if you weren’t in the company of my son.”

“It’s nice to see you Mrs. Novotny. It’s been a long time.”

“That it has. So long that I’m sure you’re unaware that my last name is Horvath now. I’m not surprised that Michael didn’t tell you. Along with not being intimate friends with the truth, he’s also not well-acquainted with the realities of life that he doesn’t like. So did I hear you right? You’re looking for Justin?”

“Yes. I thought that we could catch up. I know that he was in New York for a time while I was traveling in Europe. By the time I decided to look him up, I was informed that he’d come back here for a visit. So I thought I’d track him down here at the Diner.”

I smile at his stammering and awkwardness. It’s always been a sure sign that although he believes in what he’s saying, he’s also lying. “Well, again let me correct some misconceptions for you. Justin is not visiting; he’s home. And whether Michael wants to admit it or not, he and Brian are together and have been since just a few weeks after he dumped you for cheating.”

“Wha-how? How could Justin go back to him after everything he’s done?!”

All conversation and activity ceased within the Diner at Ethan’s raised voice. There are a few things the patrons of Liberty Avenue will never tolerate. One is me being yelled at, especially by someone they don’t know. And secondly, anyone who speaks out against the undisputed King of Liberty Avenue or the unrivaled King of Babylon has an immediate problem- something only me being who I am has prevented Michael from learning firsthand, to date.

“I’d watch your tone and your words if I were you. As for an answer to your question, Ethan you have to get a clue and the sooner the better for your mental health. You were never going to be Justin’s be all to end all.”

“That’s not true! We were in love; we were happy!”

“No. YOU were happy, and while Justin wasn’t wholly miserable, he certainly wasn’t happy. He was dealing with a lot when you came into his life. You were his friend and his solace when he needed one, but no more than that. You have to be content with that and move on with your life.”

Michael huffs. “Ma…”

“Don’t you open a mouth to me, Michael. I don’t know what crap you’ve been filling this boy’s head with, but I will get to you in a minute. Right now, adults- or I would like to believe that Ethan is actually an adult- are talking, so kindly sit there with the metaphorical dunce cap on your head while I correct his stinking thinking, courtesy of you!” He flounced and folded his arms, pouting per usual when thwarted. When I was sure that he wasn’t going to say anything else, I continued with Ethan.

“Now look, young man, there is nothing for you here in terms of any kind of romance with Justin. That ship has sailed, and if you’re honest, you would acknowledge that it never should have docked in the first place. I’m only telling you this because, what you and Justin did back then aside, I really did care for you. I still do. So my advice is to see Justin, if only to get it out of your system, but save yourself the heartache and accept what is. Accept what my stupid, miserable son cannot, and that is, the truth.

"Justin will never be yours. He never was yours in the first place. His heart has always belonged and will always belong to Brian, and he couldn’t give you what was no longer his to give. They are together, permanently and irrevocably, which is where they will remain. Both are successful men in their own rights and complement each other. There is absolutely NOTHING you have or can offer that can take Justin away from Brian. They have fought too hard for the life they have now.

"So it's time for you to go and live yours. Be better! Do better by yourself, and for the love of God, clean up your act! Stop chasing men who are already attached to someone else. It’s a lesson Michael clearly hasn’t learned yet. You don’t want to be damned near forty years old and still have the mentality of a teenager. I love him, but there it is!” I finished, gesturing at my son as a prime example.

Before Ethan could reply, I found the everyone in the Diner- employee and patron alike, except for both Ethan and Michael- standing up and clapping for me. I couldn’t help the sudden blush that crept up my cheeks as I realized that many of them had been wanting to say the same thing about Michael for years. Kiki had always told me that I needed to really set Michael straight, and I thought I had many times, but this was different. Ben told me of his ultimatum to Michael and that he only had a week to straighten out his shit, or Ben was going to walk out. Or more accurately, kick Michael out. I knew that I couldn’t get my son to see reason, but maybe my brand of tough love could help Ethan Gold get his shit together.

“I’ll take what you said under advisement, Mrs. Horvath, but are you sure?”

I smile kindly at him. Underneath all the arrogance and bravado, he reminded me a lot of Brian in his early twenties. Driven, talented beyond all that was reasonable, but still so unsure of who he really was. “Yes, honey. I’m sure. Brian and Justin found their forever a long time ago, before you were even a second thought. And as much as it hurts to hear, you were always going to be second best to Brian in Justin's regard. It’s just the way things were; how they are meant to be. It doesn’t make you a bad person nor does it make Justin one either. You both fulfilled a need in the other at the time, and being together for that short amount of time healed you both. I’m not sure what your deal was, but I knew Justin’s issues. So did Brian, which is why he chose to let Justin go with you, for as long as he needed to be with you.”

“Wait! He let him go? What do you mean?”

“Yeah, he did. Brian arranged for Justin to see him the way he did on the night of the Rage party. It was his way of forcing Justin to make a decision that he knew would break both their hearts, but it ultimately still had to be made. You see, Justin wasn’t just unhappy the way many people thought. He was also confused about who he was and who he wanted to be. There was an incident the year before that caused Justin to forget the young man who always pursued his heart’s desire, both in the flesh and within himself. He couldn’t remember who he was before the bashing took that away from him. His confidence, the way he related to people and life; even the way he saw people and their motives prior to the incident, was all gone and it left a void. You cheating on Justin- as horrible as it was- was exactly what he needed to remember who he was. Brian and Justin had an open relationship, it’s true, but there were rules for it. They lived by a code and set their own standards, not afraid to give the big FUCK YOU to societal norms or ideals held by inconsequential people, like Michael here. The fact that he broke the rules with you showed exactly how fragile Justin was and that his perception of the situation between him and Brian was off. Now that’s not to say he didn’t care for you in his own way, because he did. But that particular version of Justin was a far cry from the man he was before the bashing, and the man he has become now. Please heed my advice, Ethan, and don’t do anything that will cause Justin to have to hurt your feelings, because he won’t hesitate to do so.”

I can see the moment my words broke through his mind, even while I can see Michael getting more and more angry that his plan wasn’t going to work this time. Yes, I am well aware of the lengths Michael went to use Justin’s affiliation with Ethan to sow the seeds of discord between Brian and Justin the first time. I will not let the little fucker do that to them again, and I know they won’t either. So, if exposing Michael for the rat he is will ultimately make him a better person, or if not, at least teach him what it means to mind his own fucking business, then so be it. I can deal with little Captain Asshole over here and his sidekick, Wonder Witch. Speaking of which…

“Sorry, I’m late Michael, but… oh, hello Deb. I didn’t see you standing there,” Lindsay says, narrowing her eyes at my son, still sitting in the corner.

“I’m sure you didn’t, but here I am, Lindsay. I would ask what brought you in so early, but since Ethan is here and you were supposed to meet Michael, I can just about guess. So before you think to try and add your own suggestions to this conversation, let me help you out. Ethan knows exactly what you and Michael were trying to do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denies, but I cut her off.

“Uh-huh. Sure you didn’t know what he had planned. Lindsay, let me give you a little history lesson. I gave birth to Michael, so there isn’t really much I can say that I don’t know about him. Sure, I had a tendency to blame Brian for Michael’s fuckups. It was just easier than to admit to myself that I had spoiled him to the point of crippling him. That was my mistake, but as I was always taught, you’re never too old to learn. That’s certainly true in Michael’s case, and if he doesn’t learn quickly, he’s going to be jobless, homeless, and Ma-less, since I refuse to support the antics of a grown child!”

“Uh, Deb…”

“And another thing while I am on a roll this morning, leave Brian and Justin alone, Lindsay. You are not going to win stage mother of the year… Hell, you’re not even going to win biological mother of the year!”

“I resent your implication that…”

“I swear, maybe you and Michael really do share a brain cell, the way Justin’s said you have for years. I, on the other hand, am not stupid, nor am I deaf, dumb, and blind. Both of you are bucking to be Mrs. Brian Kinney when neither of you is qualified for the job. Lindsay, you don’t have a dick! There, I’ve said it. And even if you went out and got a sex change and became Leonard, you still wouldn’t be interesting enough to capture and hold Brian’s interests. You’re lazy and spoiled, which are two things Brian cannot stand. Same goes for Michael, but there is also the fact that, as much as I hate to admit it, Michael just isn’t smart enough.

"Whereas he has a dick, he’s still as ball-less as you! If he had any, he would never have depended on Brian or Justin to keep that rat-trap comic shop running. He would have struck out on his own and found something worthwhile to do with his time, instead of trying to keep two men, who want nothing to do with him, tied and bound to him in any capacity. But no, not my Michael. He likes being stuck and dependent upon other people for his happiness.” I took a deep breath. “Now I’m going to tell you two- tell you all, in case there is some other asshole in here that you can entice to your idiotic whims- LEAVE BRIAN AND JUSTIN ALONE!!! Neither of them want or need any of you fucking with their lives. They’ve let you get away with the shit for far too long as it is. They are in no mood to continue in that vein, and to do so will have your asses handed to you in ways you cannot imagine. Find a fucking life! And as for you Lindsay, redesign your life. Your marriage is over but you’re still a biological mother. Go be that and leave the stage mothering to Justin’s agent, whom he pays quite handsomely to do her job!”

“You mean Brian pays,” Michael sneers, but I laugh.

“Out of the mouths of idiots! Michael, try using the computer to do more than bid on toys you can’t afford and do some fucking research. Justin could’ve and should’ve bought you out of Rage years ago, even before he left for New York. Hell, he could’ve bought you out when he came back from Los Angeles; he was already making a name for himself even then. He stayed on as a favor to you, but I suspect that that time has passed. He’s already moved beyond you and the comic. Also, if Brian calls in his initial investment shares in the comic and sides with Justin, which we both know he will do should he be asked, you’ll be voted out without a dime. At least this way, he would be willing to pay you. Don’t push it!”

I moved off to serve the other customers within the eatery, happy that I’ve said what needed to and should have been said a long time ago. Whether the hard-headed fuckers will listen is anyone’s guess, but I suspect they will now have one less ally in Ethan Gold. He comes over to me after grabbing up his coat and leaving the booth where Michael and Lindsay are sitting, stewing in their own rancid juices.

“Debbie- Mrs. Horvath- I’m going to be going now. I’ll probably make an effort to see Justin just to wish him well with everything. As for the other subject, I’ll leave the matter closed. All I’ve ever wanted for Justin was to make him happy, and if having Brian does that for him, well… I’ll live with that.”

“Good boy. I hope you get what you want out of life, Ethan. Stop by and see me the next time you’re in Pittsburgh. Hopefully there will be another young man by your side who you’ll be happy to introduce me to.”

He smiles, and for the first time, I can really see what Justin saw in the young man. When he genuinely smiles from within, he’s a cutie. I’m so glad he got rid of that rat that used to be on his chin though. Someone must have finally told him that it made him look dirty as fuck! Even his hair doesn’t look like it hasn’t been washed in six years the way it used to! Instead, its got soft waves with the barest minimum of product applied and looks very mature on him. With that dimple, he should have the guys beating down his door in no time… but it won’t be Sunshine!

“I’ll do that. And Deb, thank you. For everything.”

“Anytime you need a good swift and stiff kick in your ass, call me. I’ll be sure to give it to you straight, no chaser.”

“I will. What do you think they are going to do?” He asks as he gestures at the PITA Association. Damn that Justin and his sayings!  I chuckle and explain to Ethan about Justin’s nickname for them, but then I grow serious. “I really don’t know Ethan, and whereas it will break my heart in spots, watching their downfall, should they continue to be stupid, it will be worth the price of admission. At least, they can never say that they haven’t been warned.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, my grandmother used to say: A hard-head makes a soft behind every time. They may not learn their lesson now, but I suspect that once Brian and Justin finish with them, they will have learned it in spades. My past dealings with Kinney have taught me that.”

I chuckle. “Believe me when I tell you, Justin is worse.”

CHAPTER 4: SIGN OF THE TIMES

LINDSAY

I can’t believe it! I mean I absolutely cannot believe that Debbie just talked to me that way. I mean granted, her reading Michael in front of everyone was long overdue, but to actually speak to me the way she did...well, it is simply not to be borne! How dare she call herself warning me off?! I’m the mother of Brian’s ONLY child and deserve respect as such. Not only has she disrespected my place in Brian’s life, but also within Justin’s career. He wouldn’t be who he is within the art world if it wasn’t for me! He would have thrown away his opportunities if it wasn’t for my guidance!

Well no matter...as soon as I have a little talk with Brian, he’ll do what he should have done when Justin went to New York and that’s let him go. Of course, I will be there to pick up the pieces, but also to make sure he no longer backslides or steps out of my plans for him. Gus and I- by default, of course- should be the most important people in his life, not some fucking blond boy ass. He could get that a dime a dozen as the Stud of Liberty Avenue; it’s time Brian remembers that!  

“Come on, Michael!”

“Where are we going? I mean, it’s not like I can open up my shop today and you still haven’t told me how your search went last night.”

I roll my eyes at his despondent tone. “Look, I’ll fill you in on everything later, but right now, we need to speak to Brian alone while Justin is wherever the hell he is. We can’t waste an opportunity for him to listen to reason without interference. Justin should be busy this morning with that fucking Miranda, planning for his upcoming show and this silly competition. So that leaves Brian to deal with. It’s time he listens to us!”

Michael gets up and grabs his ratty-ass coat. I mean, seriously! Being seen with a near-forty year old man wearing that fucking Captain Astro coat is just embarrassing. This is why I should be on Brian’s arm instead. Now, he exudes style and class, same as I do. But instead, I’m here with Doofus! If I have my way, that will change immediately. I look at Michael drain the rest of his chocolate milk and resist the urge to roll my eyes again. It will change immediately indeed!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

KINNETIK

BRIAN

Okay, like seriously, I have married the most amazing man in the universe. Not only did he manage to get the boards I needed for this morning done, but he landed another major account just by being who he is. After speaking with Brett and Connor last night, they asked to come in and look over some of our past campaigns, specifically the ones Justin was involved in. I pulled out the original Remson Pharmaceuticals, Eyconics, and Brown accounts as a sample of what the key members of Kinnetik could do in a relatively short amount of time. The more recent campaigns are more in-depth than these were since we have established a firm turnaround for our clients.

“These were done while Justin was on set in California. This kid…” Brett says in awe.

“Yes they were,” I answer. “Justin was there working on Rage with you, but managed to get these done and emailed to me so that they met me at the office first thing in the morning.”

“He’s a genius. And quite frankly, Brian, so are you. I recognize the slogans and have to admit that not only was the artwork eye-catching, but there wasn’t a time where I wasn’t either reciting or referencing some part of the slogan. Connor and I even used part of the Remson campaign to inspire us when we decided to strike out on our own. Life is a series of ups and downs- Always take the high road. That slogan came out just weeks after the movie was cancelled and we were feeling bummed about the overt bigotry of those making the decisions for the production company.”

“Honestly, if my opinion counts for anything, you both should have done it after the fifth highest grossing blockbuster you had. Your reputations were assured, but then again, I understand the need for caution in your line of work. You’re only as successful as your latest movie. Which brings me to the question of what exactly you need from Kinnetik?”

Connor cleared his throat. He knew that I was basically keeping my interactions with him to a minimum. I will be honest and say that I’m still not thrilled with him approaching Justin with the idea of a repeat in mind. Yeah, the little twat brings about these uncontrollable bouts of jealousy within me. I would work on that, but… well, let’s just say the way he reassures me leaves us both breathless and insatiable, so I’ll take it.

“Well, we are actually considering many different ways to utilize your company. First, and foremost, would be advertising our upcoming projects. There is at least a four million dollar budget for that. Secondly, would be the graphic arts portion of our business...”

“Graphic arts?”

“Yes. Connor and I would like to propose a partnership with Kinnetik, that the storyboards be done solely by your team.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Since Justin isn’t willing to ditch Pittsburgh for work in Hollywood, we thought that the best compromise for us to still have him would be to use Kinnetik, and therefore Justin, as an outsourcing company. Let’s face it. In our line of work, the market is always competitive. Based on that theory, and even what’s bound to happen during this competition with some of the most elite artists in the industry, there are going to be people who want to sabotage from within. You can never be too certain of those around you, looking to stab you in the back and take your place. Nor can you be certain of the overly ambitious types who will yes you to death and still do what they want, forcing you to accept their positions.”

“I understand what you are saying, but I think if you’re looking for a ‘yes sir’ kind of guy, you don’t know Justin or his work ethic.”

“On the contrary,” Brett interjects. “I can’t tell you how many times Justin and I bumped heads, based on his intimate knowledge behind the story of Rage and my vision to bring it all together. There were sets that actually had to be destroyed because Justin wasn’t happy with the finished, or revised-without-his-approval products. Let me just say that no one can queen out better than Justin when he is in business mode.”

“He sure as fuck stunned me. He didn’t yell; didn’t say anything until he was finished demolishing the fucking set, and then asked for answers. With a few well-placed words, mostly insults, he had some of the most seasoned art vets within the business in tears,” Connor tells me.

I can’t say that I wasn’t proud to hear that little Sunshine became a hurricane despite being in front of some of the biggest names in the biz. But then that was Justin… a bitch, and diva of epic proportions when pushed. Diplomatically I say, “I’m glad you both understand Justin’s motto of never attaching his name to anything he isn’t fully pleased with.”

“I suspect that goes for all facets of his life?” Brett asks.

“Indeed it does. Justin and I believe in operating in excellence. And that’s exactly what you can expect when dealing with Kinnetik. Let me call in Cynthia, Ted, and Justin so we can talk figures and the first wave of the campaign.”

As I move over to the intercom, I can’t help but hear the commotion outside in the lobby area. I call Cynthia first, asking her to call Frank to get the unwanted intruders out of the building. Them being here spells nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, I noticed the problem too late, as they burst through my office door.

“Brian, you need to tell the bitch at the front desk that her interference is not wanted or needed,” Michael orders me.

“It always amazes me, Michael, that the same words coming out of your mouth in reference to my staff always seem to fall on deaf ears when it comes to yourself. As you can plainly see, I am busy, so kindly take you and your sidekick out of here!”

“Brian, I don’t care how busy you are! This is about your…”

“I swear. Lindsay, if the last word you were about to utter is ‘son’, I can promise you that you are not going to need to worry about him any further. My lawyer is on speed dial.”

“Brian, you are being ridiculous…”

“No, ridiculous is the two of you with your high school games and bullshit. Get it through your thick skulls already! Your- what was it you said again, Michael?- ah yes, interference in my life or Justin’s life, or more accurately MY LIFE WITH JUSTIN is not wanted or needed. I would suggest you go speak to your partners, or in your case Lindsay, go spend time with Gus and Jenny. This is a business, not a daycare for assholes.”

“Brian…”

“Lawyer, Lindsay. And understand that it’s the very last warning you get.” I look at her, narrowing my eyes. I can tell she wants to take it further, but wisely chooses to remain silent.

At that moment, Justin walks straight to me from the open door. Not missing an opportunity, he pulls the hair at my nape and presses our lips together. I sigh and moan into the kiss as he uses my hair to direct my head to the angle he wants it. Slipping his tongue inside my mouth, Justin demands and commands all of my attention. The room fades away in place of a landscape that is both familiar, yet different. As he detaches from my lips, I watch as the dazed expression becomes a hardened one. Turning that diamond-bright gaze onto his detractors, he doesn’t speak, but they receive his message all the same.

“Fuck… is he always like this?” Brett asks, almost as if talking to himself.

I hear Cynthia giggle. “Absolutely. Justin Taylor-Kinney subscribed to the Brian Taylor-Kinney School of Actions Speak Louder than Words. As you can plainly see, he graduated the top of the class.”

“Cynthia, I find nothing funny!” Lindsay reprimands her.

“And Brian’s last name is Kinney, not Taylor-Kinney!” Michael bites out.

“And not only is Cynthia correct on both accounts, but it is also proof that you both have overstayed your welcome. Get the fuck out and don’t come back. My husband and I have more important things to do than play Romper Room with the two of you,” I tell them, wrapping my arms around Justin from behind. I can feel the barely-leashed tension thrumming through him as he continues to stare at them.

“We’re going, but this isn’t over, Brian,” Lindsay warns.

“Never would have imagined that it would be. You two, if nothing else, are predictable and irritatingly persistent. I’m sure those of us who know you remain in hope that you’ll buy a clue. So on that note Vanna White-coat, can you please take your patient, Pat Straightjacket out of here so we can get to work? Thank you and Bye! Frank, please… and make sure they are never admitted again unless I have a lapse in sanity and demand for them to be. Oh, and Lindsay, don’t even think about going to get Gus and bringing him back here as your ticket to entry. Mel already knows what to do if Gus wants to see me.”

“Brian, this is highly unfair. I’m the mother of your child and…”

“Soon to be ex-mother, Lindsay.” I pull out my cellphone to prove my point. She finally gets the message and beats a hasty retreat from my office. Michael follows, rolling his eyes, and once again telling me that his antics aren’t over.

“Sorry for the interruption, guys,” Justin, ever the WASP apologizes. “You ready, Brian? I have to be on set for the competition in two hours. If we’re going to finalize things…”

“Give me a second, Justin,” I tell him, as I scroll through the phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping a promise, and you know I never break them. Hello, this is Brian Kinney for Jefferson Brandt.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

JEFF

Finally, she has gone too far! I think as I listen to what Brian wants me to do. I’m so happy that he insisted his name be on the account. “Has the other account already been set up?” I ask him.

“Hold on, let me ask Ted.” I’m put on hold for a few moments before he comes back on the line. “Yes, Jeff. According to Ted, Melanie set it up yesterday before the meet-and-greet last night.”

“Okay. Have Ted transfer the funds immediately into the account with yours and Melanie’s name on it. In the meantime, I will push through the other paperwork with the court system. I always told you if she was keeping company with Michael Novotny, Lindsay was unstable. The fact that she’s willing to use Gus in anything in regards to you just proves that she doesn’t have his best interests at heart. She never did. So what do you want? Supervised visitation or revoked rights?”

“Supervised visitation for now. If she doesn’t stop the madness then it will be time to take full measures to protect Gus at all costs. Removing her access to the child support account is the first step. Also, it makes it damn near impossible for her to keep Gus and Jenny, since she doesn’t have a job or a place to live. It's about to be the same situation with Michael from what Ben told me. Melanie is going to see the house I thought she and the kids would like later this morning or early afternoon. Right now, she’s tying up a few loose ends. She’s finally decided to go into business for herself.”

“What? When did that happen?”

“The work she’s been doing for Justin has been speaking for itself. So last night, we ran into an old friend of ours, who suggested that she can still practice within her field, but also will be able to expand it to include Entertainment Law. She and Miranda were supposed to meet this morning to go over the particulars since Miranda is also an attorney in that field.”

“Wow! I never knew that. Perhaps that’s why the two of them get along as well as they do.”

“I think so. In the meantime, let me know if you need anything else from me. Lindsay will be in for quite the shock when it all comes back to bite her in the ass.”

“Her flat ass, let’s not forget that. In fact, let’s just say the thigh since she suffers from the disease of No-ass-at-all. It’s, at least, a bit more flattering.”

I hang up with Brian and think of all the wonderful fallout about to happen. Reaching into my desk drawer, I take out the envelope of the all the activities of Lindsay Peterson for the last five years. I’m glad that when Brian agreed to the move to Canada, he allowed me to hire an investigator to always make sure Gus was being well cared for. I knew that he trusted Mel, since she was always the type to hate you to your face. But Lindsay, not so much. No, she has always been a sneaky bitch, and it’s finally going to catch up to her in ways she never bargained for. I’ve often wondered why I enjoyed being a family law attorney. It’s a field of law where you really do see the good, the bad, and the ugly side of family life all at the same time, most of the time. But it’s moments like this one, that I fully understand why I could never let it go completely. Mothers as abusive and neglectful as Lindsay Peterson are the reason some women should never have been born with uterus.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

JENNIFER

I look at my watch as I sit in the Cheyanne Cafe down the street from my sons’ office. Goodness me, that’s strange to say- my sons. Honestly, it’s still hard to believe that Brian Taylor-Kinney is actually my son. I know that he and I got off to a rocky start. I was the naive mother in how to relate to Justin while Brian was- and still is- the most in-your-face man I have ever met. But when I needed him the most, for my son’s sake, he was always there to help me through it. Many people don’t really know why I stick so close to Brian, and have become his champion over the years, but it’s because of one simple truth: he loves my son unequivocally and unconditionally. It took me awhile to see it, but he does… and he loves me, too.

Which is why I’m sitting here, waiting on Melanie, but also listening to the two disgruntled magpies in the corner of the cafe, hissing and spitting fire. I guess Brian and Justin finally told Ms. Peterson and Mr. Novotny that all of their carefully-laid plans, and eternal wishes were never going to be the reality, for either of them. The role of Mrs. Brian Kinney has been forever filled and it’s not going to change no matter what they try to do. I get up from my seat, intent on disabusing whatever notions and plans Lindsay is hatching. Yes indeed, I know she will be the one I need to address, instead of the scarecrow without a brain. But if she’s smart, she’ll heed my warnings. Part of me really hopes, she isn’t smart.

“Hello, Michael and Lindsay,” I say before they have a chance to begin again. “I just thought I would come over and greet you since in all of your delusion, you walked right past me and didn’t utter a word. You know Lindsay, I don’t remember you ever being that rude.”

“Sor… you know what, Jennifer. I’m not sorry. I’m having a very rough morning and not inclined to fake emotions that I just don’t feel,” Lindsay sneers.

I chuckle. “I would imagine having Deb hand you your asses in front of a Diner full of patrons this morning would do that to you.”

“Do you have a point for coming over here?” Michael’s whiny voice rings out as I watch Lindsay’s pinched expression. “As you can see we are having a private conversation.”

“I would believe that except that you, as always, must have a hearing problem since your whispering is basically the same tone as your whiny voice. But as for the reason I’m over here, Michael, it’s to deliver a small warning. Leave my sons alone.”

“Sons? You only have one son, who really should understand that he outstayed his welcome a long fucking time ago!”

“I could say the same for you, Scare… oh, sorry, Michael. You’ve outstayed your welcome in many respects. For example: attached to your mother’s apron strings, although I suspect she’s finally cut you off; in Brian’s life, which I suspect you’ve been kicked out of; in Justin’s life and business, which I have a feeling if you don’t back off, he’s going to deck you; in Ben’s life, where you constantly drag him down, although I know he is planning on rectifying that situation sooner rather than later. Yet the places you should be invading, such as your roach motel- otherwise known as Red Cape Comics- has not seen hide nor lice-infested hair of you, since when? Your daughter, who you nearly busted a testicle to get out of the head of your pen-tip sized dick, hasn’t seen you since she’s been back, and why exactly is that? Oh, I know. It’s because you’ve been running around town trying to get attention that no one of importance wants to give you.”

“Now look here lady…”

“And as for you, Lindsay, I’m going to issue you a warning for the last time,” I say, ignoring whatever idiocy is about to erupt from Michael’s mouth yet again. “The dirty trick you played on Brian and Justin in order to get my son to leave for New York won’t work again. I’m sure by the amount of spit flying between you, Brian and Justin have informed both of you of their change in last names. For your information, and basically as common courtesy at this point, because it certainly isn’t your business or wish come true, Brian and Justin have been legalized since before my son made the decision to board the plane to New York.”

“You’re lying!” Lindsay screams.

“Not at all, dear. You see, the ceremony they were planning was really for all of us. They signed the legal documents joining their lives weeks before. In truth, Brian and Justin have been married for quite a long time, before Brian even first asked Justin. I mean, if you take a look at history, instead of trying to rewrite it suit your fantasies, you both would really know and understand that it happened while they were fighting Stockwell. Justin stuck by Brian during the worst times of his life and yet, they still managed what you two couldn’t in your ‘mature’ relationships. They worked through their problems.”

“What? Justin was always leaving Brian!” Michael yells, as if I don’t know what I am talking about.

“Oh, you mean the way Ben is leaving you? Or the way David Cameron sent your ass home when you complained about his attention being on his job and his son? If you knew, or paid attention to anything other than what you want, you would have seen that Justin has always been there for Brian.”

“So we should be happy that your son was a fucking stalker?”

“Better than the fucking moochers you both are, don’t you think? No you wouldn’t think that at all, since you would actually have to admit that you are both selfish creatures with entirely too much time on your hands. Time that could be better spent, oh I don’t know… working perhaps. Or maybe concentrating raising your children to be self-sufficient so that they don’t turn into carbon copies of yourselves later on in life? You two are truly pathetic, but more than that, you’re useless. Now I am going to advise you that if you fuck with Justin, you fuck with me, and trust me, Lindsay in particular, you don’t want to do that.”

“What is it that you think you can actually do? You’re nothing,” Lindsay spits.

“Sure, I am. Not only am I one of the top real estate brokers in this state, I am also pretty well known in art circles as Justin Taylor-Kinney’s mother. You must like the doors that slammed in your face because you opened your legs for Sam Auerbach. They’ve only just recently opened back up to you because of the Curator, who you were sucking off, and his influential wife. But keep fucking with Justin and I’ll make sure they slam in your face once again, no matter who you screw.”

She gasps. “You don’t have that kind of pull!”

“From a WASP to a wannabe, do you really want to test that theory?” I look over to the entrance of the door where my table was and smile. “Well, have a good day. My client has arrived.” I hear the indignant huffs behind me as I move towards Melanie, waiting for me.

She chuckles as I come upon her. “Good morning, Jen. Did you have fun?”

“Darling, you have no idea just how much.”

CHAPTER 5: LET THE GAMES BEGIN… Begin… begin

JUSTIN:

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Cynthia asks me, still chuckling.

“More than you know. Shit, it was cigarette and Beam worthy!” I laugh back. “And all this time, I’ve been worried about what he was going to do when she decided to play the Gus-card again…”

“You shouldn’t have bothered, Justin,” Ted joins in. “Brian and I had a long talk after you first went to New York. He said that if it ever came down to you or them again, he would bank on you. This is him keeping that promise.”

“But why now? I mean, not that I’m not grateful but he could have done this so many years ago.”

“True, he could have. But then he would have lost the element of surprise with it. You know, Brian can’t do anything quietly. Besides, he had to be sure.”

“Of me?”

“No, of them. He had to be sure that they would revert to type,” Cynthia tells me. “It’s one thing to want to believe that they’ve changed, but it’s another thing to actually see the changes. With Michael and Lindsay, they knew all of the right things to say; the right buttons to push. But look what happens when Brian doesn’t fall back into line. Their well-rehearsed lip service falls apart.”

I nod, fully understanding what she means now. I know Brian has been tired of their headgames for a while, and it didn’t just begin with my sojourn to New York. In fact, it’s been happening more and more since my excursion to Los Angeles. After I came back, Brian and I had a long talk about why I went and how I really ended up there. It was then that he’d begun to see the games Michael had been playing with him and his emotions for years. It took a little longer, and an article written by a cunty fag, for him to see through to Lindsay’s motives, but the idea was the same, even though the execution was different. I might not be proud of all the bullshit from them that Brian and I let come between us, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good to have beaten them at their own game, using their own methods of tattle-tale and run.

“What’s with that self-satisfied smirk on your face, Sunshine?” Brian asks me as he comes to stand beside me.

“The fact that we’re here, Brian… in this place, this space, and finally on the same page in the same state.”

“And the fact that the Wonder Twits bubble of delusion has finally burst? You can’t fool me, Justin. I know you’ve been waiting for the right moment to announce that the role of Mrs. Brian Kinney has been filled.”

“True. But Cynthia did it better than I could have ever hoped to, short of hiring a jet to write it across the fucking sky where they couldn’t hide from it. What do you want to bet that they are somewhere sulking; while plotting and planning their next move?”

“No bet needed. They are, if nothing else, predictable. But for now, let’s sign up Kell-Jam Studios and hash out the particulars of this deal so you can go be brilliant at the competition. I think we’ve given Michael and Lindsay enough to keep them busy for the interim.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jeff is about to forward over some paperwork, care of Debbie. She’ll be sure that Lindsay gets it.”

“And Michael? What about him?”

“Oh yeah. Did I forget to mention that I’ve sold the store, the contents, and the building that it’s in?”

“You did? Who to?”

Brian giggled. “Your mother.”

“Oh shit! You evil genius!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~AI2

JENNIFER:

“So Mel, do you think you’ll like this place? I know it’s a little farther out than you were hoping to move, but it is close to Brian, and in a very prominent neighborhood which is complimentary to your new career path.” Brian requested that I show her the gated property directly across from Britin, which hasn’t even gone on the market yet. The owner, Veronica, wants a quick sale as she is scheduled to be in Nevada to begin her new job by the end of the month.

“I do love it, but it’s way out of my price range.”

“I’ve been authorized to give you the Kinnetik Real Estate family rate of 3% APR on a home mortgage loan spread out over 30 years. Brian and Justin are willing to take care of purchase in full and then you repay them.”

“What?! Jennifer, I can’t let them do that!” Melanie exclaimed, her eyes widened in shock.

“Honey, you try talking either one of them out of it. Besides the house being gated and far back from the street, it also comes fully furnished.”

“I don’t even have my practice off the ground yet. I have to find office space within the City and…”

“Stop coming up with every excuse of why you can’t do this. As for office space, did you know the Taylor-Kinneys own the entire Alwin Building downtown?”

“The place we were for the meet and greet last night?”

“The very same. There are vacancies in that building right now. I’ve already moved my office into it. I moved just after I left Keller Williams Real Estate. Brian advised me to disassociate myself from them before I closed the deal for him. It worked out well. As for the price of your office space, I’m sure that you and Brian can come up with some type of arrangement. He’s willing to work with you, and there’s always Justin,” I say to sweeten the deal. I know for a fact that Brian and Justin want this for her, and are willing to do anything to make it happen.

“But I owe Brian so much already. You know he won’t let me pay him back?” she tells me quietly.

“I know, Mel. But you have to accept the fact that it’s just the way Brian is. Let him do this for you… for Gus and Jenny, so that he will never have to worry about you all having a roof over your heads again. His only stipulation that I know of is that neither Lindsay and Michael ever steps foot in the door.”

“Why not?”

I take her over to the window in the living room. Although, you can’t see much but trees, if you look at the far end of the park, you can see the very top of the mansion. “See that roof there?”

“Yes, I see it.”

“Well, that’s Britin.”

“Britin? As in Brian and Justin’s…”

“Mansion, yes. So in a sense, you and the Taylor-Kinneys will be neighbors, and if there is ever a problem, they can get to you in a flash. It’s why they want you to have this house.”

Melanie burst out in tears and the only thing I could do was hold her and let her ramble. “For so many years, Jenn, I thought of Brian as Satan personified. The things I’ve said and done to him… oh my God, how can he even stand me?! I threw it in his face every time he needed me, or his rights regarding Gus or...”

“Mel, you can only blame yourself to an extent. Believe me, I have been guilty of some of the same things you were where Brian is concerned. But once I stopped accusing him and got to know the man beneath the myth, well, that’s when I began to really see who Brian is. Do you know when that was for me?”

“No.”

“It was when I first asked Brian to stop seeing Justin after the bashing. He did what I asked, simply because he cared about my son and didn’t want to harm him any further. But then, a week later, I asked him to take Justin and help him. Help him be touched, I asked him, acknowledging that he was the only one Justin trusted not to hurt him. Can you imagine? Me, his own mother, he didn’t trust, but the man who’d been so emotionally closed to him, he did? I couldn’t understand it at first, but then I began to watch for reasons why Justin trusted Brian as he did.

“Brian wouldn’t let Justin give up, or say that he couldn’t do something. He wouldn’t let Justin wallow in self-pity or accept that Justin wasn’t ready to meet life head on again. It was a strange dynamic between the two, but ultimately it worked. Brian gave me back my son, but he also gave me a son who was growing to be a man, and that I could respect as such. I remember asking Justin why he trusted Brian instead of me during that period, and you know what he told me? He said that it was because when me and Craig hurt him the worst, Brian was right there to pick up the pieces and help him reorder his life. I didn’t know that I’d hurt my son as bad as I had. I know that Brian hurt Justin too, but he did it honestly, whereas Craig and I said the words of love, but acted in a completely different manner when our son needed us to show it unconditionally. And that is what Brian is trying to give to you, Mel; he’s trying to show you that even though you hated him to his face, he still trusts you with the most precious gift he has given this world… his son.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You will?” I smiled into her watery eyes.

“Yes, all of it. I’ll take whatever deal he- they- will give me. I owe them that.”

“I can promise you, Mel, you won’t be sorry,” I tell her as I pull out my phone. “Brian, you owe me twenty dollars.”

“I do? But you owe me fifty.”

“Fifty? Why?”

“For Red Cape Comics.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Consider the debt cancelled then.” I hang up and begin to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Mel looks questioningly at me.

“Now that we have agreed to begin closing proceedings, how would you like to help me appraise some inventory?”

“Inventory? What for?”

“You’re looking at the new owner of Red Cape Comics. Apparently, someone forgot to read the fine print and has been taking a business loan between friends for granted.”

“You mean Michael…”

“Yep. I have to stop by Kinnetik and the store on the way to the office at the Alwin. Brian wanted a short sale, and I’m happy to give it to him. The building, store, and all the contents therein, now belong to me. And the first thing I intend to do is clean house!”

Mel laughed long and hard at that. “He’s going to piss and shit bricks!”

“I’m counting on it!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*AI2

BEN:

I’m upstairs in the bedroom when he stomps into the house. Already, I can tell he isn’t alone so I listen.

“Can you believe they signed fucking LDP papers and didn’t tell us?!” He screeches.

“No, I can’t.” I roll my eyes at the dulcet tones of the second half of the Coffee-clutch of Cunt-ery and press record on my phone. “There has to be some way that it isn’t as legal as they think. I think some very pertinent questions need to be asked.”

“Well you can’t call Mel.”

“Why not?”

“Stupid. If she knew anything, don’t you think she would have told you by now?” Michael says. And for once, I have to give it to him, he sort of makes sense. Lindsay is stupid.

“Don’t call me stupid. You’re the one walking around here in a Captain Asshole jacket at almost forty years old!”

“His name is Astro, Astro, ASTRO! A-S-T-R-O!”

“And the person wearing it is an Asshole, Asshole, ASSHOLE! That's A-S-S-H-O-L-E, in case you forgot how to spell YOUR name! But look, we’re getting off topic here. Let me call my parents and see what they can find out. Surely, there must be some way the paperwork can be lost, if there really is any to begin with. Justin has to return to New York; he just has to!”

“What’s in this for you really, Lindsay? Not that I don’t agree with you, mind you, but what’s your real motive? Jennifer said…”

“Michael… Michael, Michael, Michael…” she says, in that way that reminds me of Jan on the Brady Bunch. “My only motive here is to prove that I can be a better manager than that Miranda bitch. I have contacts and shows lined up that Justin should be doing instead of playing with paints for this silly little competition.” She lies, and she almost has even me convinced.

“So what happens if Justin doesn’t show up?”

“Other than my reputation within the art circles being ruined? Justin will lose his place as the darling of the art world. Not only that, but it keeps him out of Brian’s orbit and I… I mean Gus, misses valuable time with Brian.” And there's the slip...

“I see.” The gullible ass ought to see what Lindsay’s real aim is, but does he? I think not, especially when he starts speaking again. “The way to Brian needs to be cleared of all things Boy Wonder. Besides, he needs to draw Rage for me.”

“Michael, why is Justin drawing Rage so fucking important? I thought we already talked about this last night!”

“Because the publishers and printers won’t let it go to print if Justin isn’t the damn artist!”

“What?” And I have to second Lindsay’s surprise on that one since it's also news to me.

“It’s written into the contract that if the quality of the art isn’t that of Justin fucking Taylor’s then they have the right not to publish it.”

“But that’s… that’s absurd! It’s not like you’re rewriting Hemingway or even Tolstoy…”

“Who?”

“It’s a fucking COMIC, for God’s sake. Anyone can draw it; hell even I could draw it!”

Michael burst out laughing at that thought. “Sorry, but I think we both would have to beg to differ on that point. You couldn’t draw your way out of Alphabet soup, let alone doing an internationally successful comic!” He laughs again.

“Fuck you, Michael! And I can prove it to you. Here look at this…”

“What is it? They are accepting an unknown amateur to go against the elite artists for the Skin Wars Celebrity Edition competition. What’s that got to do with you?”

“I forgot to tell you about it this morning at the Diner when we were so rudely interrupted by your mother. One of the artists became ill late last night, and they don’t have time to canvas Hollywood for another notable artist, so they’ve decided to look locally.”

“Okay… so again, what does this have to do with you?”

“Dunce! I’m going to enter the competition.”

“Are you fucking nuts?! You’ll be laughed off of not only Pittsburgh’s stage, but the World’s. Think about what you’re doing, Lindsay!”

“I am. They are allowing the amateurs to compete in pairs before going on to the elite competition. From what I gather, they are going to group us by our ages, so that no one person has more clout than the other. Should be really interesting. But most of all, it will give me a chance to really scope out Justin’s competition; to really see who isn’t as enamored of the little bastard as the rest seem to be. And then I’ll align myself with that person to sabotage him, thereby sending his fat little ass back to New York where he should have remained in the first place. Brian doesn’t back underachievers.”

Well shouldn’t they both know that by now? I shake my head at the fuckery of the two of them, but honestly, I can’t wait to see the fall out from this hair-brained scheme. In fact, I think it’s time to put in a call to Justin to see what he thinks of it. I snicker, thinking of just what his response is going to be. Justin is known for his creative cursing, but most of all, he’s a genius at renaming the Wonder Twits- that was one of his, too. One thing’s for certain and two things are for sure. We’re all going to be in for the time of our lives watching the Flaky Failure and her Funky Flunky. And it’s time for me to get moving with my own plans. I take the last of the clothes and dump them into garbage bags. Fuck a week; this shit ends today! Heading down the back stairs and out of the backdoor, I make a permanent move to take out the trash...meaning Michael.

CHAPTER SIX: SELF-SABOTAGE Part 1 

JUSTIN:

I keep thinking to myself, is there a loophole? From everything Brian, Brett, Connor, and I have been discussing, there doesn’t seem to be one. But something is niggling at the back of my mind that I just can’t put my finger on.

“So basically, we’ll be the outsourcing company for all of your pre-production needs. That’s not a problem…”

“Then what is, Justin?” Brett asks. “I’ve come to know you pretty well over the years so I know when that little blond hamster is working overtime. What is it?”

“Okay, here’s the thing. I have absolute faith in my staff here as it is, but I also know what it takes to work on pre-production. Now that’s not to say that I don’t think we can handle it amongst our other accounts; quite the contrary in fact. We only employ the best, both within Kinnetik and within JT Designs. However, I’m going to ask for a huge favor and I’m not sure that you will agree to it right away. It would mean an addition of seven million dollars to the current contract figures we are talking about.”

“Seven million dollars more? This had better be good, kid!” Connor exclaims even as I regard him steadily.

“It is, along with being both vital and necessary to see a return on your investment. And furthermore, I believe that you know firsthand just how un-kidlike I actually am.” I raise my eyebrow at him, daring him to disagree. When he remains silent, I continue. “The fact is that in order to meet your needs and that of our other clients, I am going to need to expand at a very rapid rate.”

“This is something that you and I have already talked about, Sunshine, and we agreed to do it at the beginning of the next quarter,” Brian reminds me.

“That’s true, Brian. But considering the current turnaround dates and deadlines we are up against even without the contract for Kell-Jam, we need to push up the timetable on the expansion. So here is what I am proposing: I want to create a department within my portion of the company that is solely dedicated to the motion picture side of things. I will still work both within the realm of Kinnetik, and personally on the accounts for Kell-Jam Studios, but to do so solely with the staffing I have now already in a time crunch, something is bound to suffer. That said, I want us to be able to offer the potential employees a first-rate opportunity to get in on the ground floor of your company.”

“Meaning?”

“In addition to working as a graphic artist on your projects, for every pre-production project they complete and based on your approval and ours, I want them to be given the option to collect their bonus up front or flip it into a stock option within your company. Brian and I find that people do their best work when they own even the smallest piece of what you’re building; when they feel as if they have a say and that it will be viably heard. That is part of what makes Brian and I so successful here at Kinnetik JTD. My theory is that in doing this, we will not only make Kell-Jam an even larger force to be reckoned with in terms of studios, but also it will make you one of the premiere companies to work for within the country. You make money, we make money, and they make money, so everyone is happy.”

“Sounds good, but where would we find the caliber of artist that you are?”

“First and foremost, I hold no illusions that this competition is a shoe-in for me. I know most of the contestants and have spent years admiring their work long before L.A. was a footnote in my life. That said, perhaps while I am competing with them, I may be able to judge which of them I can effectively work with.”

“Well that leaves Stacy Peete out,” Connor snickered.

“Indeed, it does. Even though she is talented in her own right, she is also lazy and and an unmitigated jackass. The biggest turn-off for me where she is concerned is that…”

“She reminds you of Lindsay,” Brian interjected. I nodded in acknowledgement.

“What’s her deal really?” Connor asked.

“Whose? Stacy’s or Lindsay’s?”

“Both, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t. Let me start with Stacy since she is the easiest to cover. Plain and simple, she has a God-complex. However, I see her as being incredibly insecure.”

“That arrogant harridan? I can’t imagine she has an insecure bone in her bony body, Justin.” Brett laughed at the thought.

“Hear me out. Take my attorney, Melanie, for a moment. A more self-assured, capable woman I have never known. Or at least, I thought that was the case when I first met her. She’s not only beautiful, and a pretty nice lady with a good heart, but she has an agile and brilliant mind where law is concerned. When I first met her she was driven, but still always felt the need to prove herself. No matter how many cases she won, there was this constant need to be better and to do better. Brian and I are often guilty of the same motivation, but we handle and process it differently.

“At first, Brian was a lot like Mel, but then being with me taught him that you can only do what you can do. Now that’s not to say that we ever stop striving; we don’t, but that’s just our way. It’s when we took our focus off of the bigger pictures that we fucked up. But over the years, we’ve stood by and watched Mel become more and more insecure about her world and her place in it. Instead of basking in the knowledge that she has always been capable and didn’t have to be a bitch all the time, she started to hide behind her self-imposed walls to protect herself. That’s what Stacy does. She thinks that by coming off as a bitch, people will respect her, when in most cases it’s the opposite. Most people don’t want to work with her, let alone answer to her. She doesn’t see that her chronic PMS-ing is actually sabotaging her.”

“What brings that about in a person?” Connor wondered aloud. He could see the merit of my assessment of Stacy Peete. Hell, he’d even experienced a degree of it when he was turned down for a role or two. But eventually he snapped out of his pity party and got back to working on himself. Today he’s one of the most successful men in Hollywood, but he never went out of his way to be an asshole to anyone just because he could, like she does.

“It’s a number of things. In all honesty, it’s primarily the people one surrounds themselves with. For me, the person that builds me up is Brian. I would like to think that I do the same for him. In our early days, it wasn’t like that for either of us, but we’ve grown and we’ve changed somewhere along the way. In Mel’s case, she had a wife who was never satisfied and took it out on her.”

“Lindsay?” Brett asks.

“Yeah, Lindsay. What can I say about her that won’t let my bitterness towards her come to the fore? Well not much, but what I can tell you is that she and I came from the same social set. Whereas I have ditched the societal norms, or more accurately, I only adhere to them when I have a reason to, Lindsay lives for them. She’s literally entangled in them in such a way that it affects everyone and everything around her. Plain and simple, she’s entitled, spoiled, and sucks the air out of a room.”

“Sunshine…”

“No, Brian. I won’t lie, and besides, I am being nice. I haven’t called her a bitch without a broom of her own; a confused shrew, or even a horse-humping thundercunt. I’ll keep all of those thoughts to myself.”

Brian snickered. “Your horns are showing.”

“I know. I’ll ask for my halo back later when I’m through,” I say wryly, causing the others to laugh.

“Speaking of Lindsay, Justin, I think you need to see this,” Cynthia said as she re-entered Brian’s office. She’d gone to check on the event list for the day while they were hashing out the details to the contract. “I nearly blew a damn gasket when I saw this.”

As Brian and I read the announcement, he closed his eyes. Wordlessly, he handed it over to Brett for his and Connor’s perusal. Brian asked, “Surely Sunshine, you don’t think…”

“Absolutely, Brian.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Cynthia exclaimed. “So what do you guys want me to do?”

I sighed. “There’s not much you can do at this point. We all know she is going to enter the competition for no other reason than to annoy me.”

“She does have a tendency to push all of your buttons, Justin. It’s what she and Michael have in common.”

“Among other things,” I say, but then remember the other thing I meant to ask Cynthia to do. “Actually Cyn, can you call Mel and Miranda for me? And where’s Ted?”

“On his way back from getting you something to eat per the boss’ orders.”

I turn to look at Brian, loving the sheepish look on his face just now. “I didn’t leave you with much time to eat or have a full breakfast.”

“No you didn’t, but I’m certainly not complaining.” Before the conversation could turn heated between us, I tell him what I have been thinking all morning, but has just become clear right now. “I think it’s time to make the offer.”

“Now?”

“With Lindsay pulling this stunt, I’m thinking there’s no time like the present. Now that Mom owns the store and all of the contents in it, and after the way Ben spoke about him last night, I don’t see Michael lasting a week. Better to extend the offer now and he accept, than to have him hunting you down for a handout when his bullshit blows up in his face.”

“It’s kind of too late for that,” Ted says, as he comes in with several bags. “I just got a call from Ben. He’s finally had enough.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

BEN:

I come in through the front door, unsurprised when all conversation- or more accurately, arguing- ceases. “Wh- what are you doing home, Ben? Didn’t you have some kind of seminar to teach today?”

“No, that was yesterday, Michael.” Once again, I am reminded of how little attention he pays to anything other than Brian and Justin’s business. “Actually, there is something that I would like to tell you, Michael. Lindsay, can you excuse us for a moment?”

“Actually, Ben, Lindsay and I were in the middle of an important conversation. I’m sure that whatever we have to talk about can wait.”

“I don’t think it can. You see, Michael, I want you out of here. In fact, I’m going to be decent and let you know that the garbage men are on their way down the street. They are just a couple of blocks over.”

“So? What has that got to do with me?”

“Nothing, unless you don’t mind wearing those ratty jeans and Captain Asshole shirt for awhile until you can afford new clothes for yourself.”

“Wh- What are you babbling about?!”

“Not babbling at all. I’ll leave that activity to you and the prissy princess here. But you will do it outside of my house. You’re officially moved out. Now whether it’s with your belongings, which are currently outside at the curb waiting for the trashmen to take them to the local landfill, or not, is entirely up to you. Clock’s ticking, Michael. I would hurry if I were you.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!!! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

“Can, will, and AM DONE, Michael! I’m sure between you and Lindsay, you can find a place to stay now that she and Mel are no longer together either. I would hurry though. The garbage truck is almost here by now.” I move over to the door and open it wide.

“This isn’t over,” he grits out as he rushes past me with Lindsay in tow.

She stops and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “I want you to know that you will pay for this.”

“I’ve been paying for it since I met him, which I suspect is how Mel feels about you right now.”

“I will get Melanie back to where she is supposed to be! But I’m looking forward to making her grovel before I agree to be with her again.”

“Well since that’s got about as much of a chance of happening as Michael growing up does, I’m going to suggest that you enter rehab. Apparently, you’ve been indulging in too many glass dicks, and not just the kind found in a sex shop. Have a good time chasing your tail, Lindsay, although I can’t see that it will be much of a chase after all.” I enjoy slamming the door in the face of her effronted gasp even as I turn the locks and deadbolt the door.

I spot his Captain Astro jacket and open the window, chucking it out onto the front lawn while watching him scurry back and forth to collect the fourteen bags at the curb before the truck officially gets to our… my house. Lindsay is just standing there with her arms folded, lecturing him about the mounds of useless trinkets that he really should get rid of while he yells at her for being an uncaring bitch. Well, birds of a feather and all, because that’s what he’s been as long as I can remember. The house phone rings as I continue to watch the Idiot Show happening outside the big bay window in my living room.

“Hello, Ben. Did you called me earlier?” Jen asks, and I’m reminded of Justin’s no-time-for-bullshit tone during his ‘office hours’.

“Yes, I did. I was wondering if you had an opening today so we could meet and talk.”

“Well actually, I’m going to be down at the building which is formerly known as Red Cape Comics if you want to come by there.”

“Formerly? What do you mean?”

“Oh you mean Michael hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“That Brian offloaded it to me this morning for nonpayment of the rent. You know what kind of businessmen he and Ted are, and the store just wasn’t profitable. So now I have a few decisions to make as to what to do with it once I have the contents therein appraised. I imagine we’ll be there for the remainder of the afternoon.”

I can’t help it… I laugh long and hard. Once I’m finally in semi-control of myself again, I tell her, “I’ll be there within the hour. I’m just going to speak to one of my neighbors about waiting for the locksmith for me.”

“Locksmith? Ben, is everything alright?”

“Better than alright, Jennifer. Everything here is just about perfect. See you in a bit.” As I hang up the phone, I realize the truth of my words. The fact that I’m no longer troubled about ending my marriage is very telling. In fact, for the first time in a long while, I feel happy. Happy and free! I head out the backdoor and cross over into my neighbor Malcolm’s yard. After getting confirmation that he would call the locksmith after the Pouty Pissant of Pittsburgh left (his words, not mine), I make my way to my car and drive off without the two of them noticing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

MICHAEL:

I can’t believe he did this! I mean, who the fuck does he think he is to do this to me?! After all I have done for him, this is how he repays me?! What is it with the ungrateful ass men in my life lately? Brian is acting like he doesn’t know me; Boy Wonder is acting like letting him work on Rage wasn’t a favor to him, and don’t even get me started on Ted and Emmett! Ted has gotten much too big for his britches since he started working for Brian, and Emmett just thinks he’s better than me. How or why does he even think that?! He’s a nothing and a nobody. The only friend I seem to have right now is a woman I can barely stand on a fucking good day… and today is certainly NOT that!

“So Michael, what are you going to do?”

“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be standing here waiting for a cab with you,” I answer her.

“Well, I was thinking that perhaps you should appeal to Brian to let you stay at the loft until you find a new place or something. It’s not like you have a lot of money, and Brian has always been into helping the needy. I mean, he’s been friends with you for years. You can’t get more needy than that, right?”

“Fuck off, Lindsay! This is not the time for your bullshit.”

“Well it seems that you have time for all the bullshit in the world just now, doesn’t it? Oh I know! What about the apartment above your store?”

I look at her with narrowed eyes, knowing good and fucking well what she’s doing. Lindsay and Mel were still together when I signed the new loan agreement with Brian. I know that she knows what the contract agreement was. It said that if I missed three payments, per the contract, Brian was going to take the store from me. I didn’t think he was serious until I received the certified registered letter that I had to fucking sign for this morning before going out and meeting her skanky ass for breakfast. “That would be great if I actually had a store anymore, Assholette!”

“Oh, is that what that pink paper on the door of Red Cape Comics… oh sorry, your former business, said? Michael, you poor thing. Well, look at the bright side.”

“And just what is the fucking bright side to being homeless, jobless, and husband-less?”

“Well now you have more time to devote yourself to the important things, like getting Justin away from Brian. I mean, it’s just a thought. In the meantime, you should probably call a removal van or something. Don’t you still have that storage unit?”

FUCKING BITCH!

“No, Lindsay. Remember I had to let it go because some idiot let her rent go and I had to send the money up to Canada since Brian was out of the country? Or at least I thought so, until it came out that she was actually going on a trip to New York that her wife didn’t want to fund, since it involved going to see her former fuckbuddy Sam’s show. Ring any fucking bells?”

“Oh, yes. Sam and I had a marvelous weekend then. Thanks for that, by the way. You want details?”

“About as much as I want to be near you right now, so no!”

“Well, I guess that’s my cue. I’ll see you later.”

“Where the fuck are you going?!”

“To enter the competition.”

“I thought we agreed that this was a bad idea!” I yell at her.

“No, that was you agreeing. As for me, I’m looking at where all your wisdom, knowledge, and understanding has gotten you, and am deciding to do the exact opposite.”

I’m so sick of her digs at me right now. “Fine! Go show the world what an untalented hack you are. I’ll look forward to reading the blogs about it. And you’ve failed too, Lindsay! Don’t forget that!” I yell, as she continues walking away from me.

I feel around for my cell phone, but can’t find it. I have to call Ma. Maybe she could put me up until I have a chance to speak to Brian. I don’t see any reason why I can’t stay with him, and Boy Wonder can’t stay somewhere else. I mean, I met Brian first! I’ve always been there for him! He fucking owes me! And while I am happily ensconced within BRIAN’S loft, I will show him just how good we could be together if he would just finally let go of that fucking twink’s ass. Let me… Oh fuck! Both my phone and my keys are in the fucking house. And Ben’s damn car is GONE!!!

CHAPTER SEVEN: SELF-SABOTAGE Part 2

MIRANDA

So here is the thing about the nuisance that is Lindsay Peterson… she is persistent. I can give her that and I will. It takes a special kind of pest to keep scheming to get her way. What I can’t give her credit for is being successful for more than the minutes it took her to dream up her elaborate plots, which are always laden with holes, and never well-thought out contingency plans. Case in point, her plans to derail Brian and Justin’s relationship.

Upon meeting Justin after his decision to tell Lindsay’s lecherous toad to metaphorically kiss his ass, he and I had drinks at a local hotspot after one of his shows. We were feeling each other out, but I knew he was testing me for my temperament especially. The funny thing about Justin is that he can work with just about anyone. He’s just that good and he’s at the point where people are clamoring for his attention. But he also likes to build productive relationships; ones that are based on trusting the people around him. He told me that he’d learned that from watching and studying Brian.

The one constant since the two of them met, which Brian considers the MVP of Brian Kinney’s world, isn’t two best friends as they think they are, it’s actually Cynthia. She’s been in Brian’s corner since day one, good or bad, beautiful or downright ugly, and it’s the type of relationship Justin wanted to have within his own work. But what also amazed me was hearing of the formerly contentious relationship between Brian and Ted. To look at them, one would never know that it was an association mired in jealousy and contempt. But all that changed during one of the most troubling times of Ted’s life. The thing that surprised me the most was that the same person he thought was against him, is the only one who was able to give him the opportunity of a lifetime. Sure Brian needed the help, but he trusted Ted. So much so that he’d offered the man a chance to take his former career in a new direction, and the decision has been paying off for both of them in spades.

So here we are with the dumbness that is Lindsay Peterson. She is trying to use her looks to cut the line, not realizing that she isn’t going to attract any one of these young hopefuls standing who have been standing in line for hours. I laugh as she tries one of the older hopefuls, too and gets told off for her efforts. Ironically, I’m sitting at the judges’ table alongside the other agents who will be judging the competition. Like me, they are just as amused.

“Miranda, isn’t that your guy’s agent?” Sean David asks me. He’s representing five of the professional artists in the competition.

“More like her parents’ mistake. Lindsay Peterson will always be the tragic heroine in her own tale. She just doesn’t know when to stop.”

“True, but you have to admit that it’s fun to watch her crash and burn.”

“It was funny the first hundred times. Now I just wonder if she’s a masochist,” I say as I watch her literally get manhandled to the end of the line by another contestant. “Guess Libby Masterson is not willing for the poor man’s Vanna White to buy a clue. I wonder where her sidekick is.”

As if on cue, Melanie arrives damn near in tears and overrun by the hiccups. “Mir… anda… you aren’t going… to believe who I just saw trekking up the street dragging three black trash bags and clutching that tacky cardboard cutout of Captain Astro in the direction of Kinnetik.”

“He’s not really…”

“Yes, he is. I suppose he’ll go there looking for sympathy. Ben called and said that he’s finally gotten rid of his dead weight.”

“Unfortunately, it looks like we’re about to inherit some of our own.” I point to the end of the line, where Lindsay is standing, still fuming that her ploy to skip ahead didn’t work.

“Oh Christ! She can’t be serious!”

“Unfortunately for all of us, she is.”

“Just because she teaches Art History doesn’t mean that her art will become history!”

“Calm down, Mel. She’ll certainly make history, probably just not the way she wants to. Let’s just see what she’ll come up with.”

She gasps at me. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am. The thing that Lindsay is not ready for is that there will be a time limit in each of the categories. If she can do something presentable within the time frame given, she’ll make it through to the next round. If not, then she can go away, at least knowing that she failed honorably since she tried.”

“You mean that she embarrassed herself,” Mel mutters. “What happens if she makes it through, which I highly doubt, but what happens then?”

“She has to make it through three more rounds. Today is just the first day.”

“Why not just let her through so that she can get it through her hard head once and for all that there is no way on God’s green and purple earth that she would have ever made it as an artist?”

Before I can respond, I look over to see a few of the other judges nodding their heads. Sean says, “Miranda, you know as well as the rest of us that sometimes you just have to let people learn the hard way. She looks like a hard learner. Besides, if she doesn’t make it to the big show, she’ll swear that you had something to do with that.”

“Not her lack of talent?” I ask, looking at Mel for confirmation.

She shakes her head. “No. Lindsay lives for the victim mentality, same as Michael. In her mind, she’s the cat’s meow, instead of dog shit smeared on a cracker…”

“Mel!”

“I’m not saying her as a person, although there are some differences of opinion on that score, too. But dog shit on a cracker is more artful than she has ever been, even if she can’t see it. No, someone like Lindsay has to be embarrassed on a large scale for her to realize that maybe her method of attention-seeking might not have been to her best advantage.”

“Why did you stay with her so long if you feel that way about her? The contempt is pouring off of you, Mel.”

She sighs. “Love can be blind, but it is certainly not dumb. Only the people who fall into it are. I overlooked a lot so that I could say that I wasn’t alone, but a person can only take so much. Taking Gus and Jenny away from her except for supervised visitation was the best thing I could have done for my children. It wasn’t just about her fucking everything -male or female- that moved; it was the fact that she was doing so while she was supposed to have the children.”

“What do you mean? She arranged for a sitter, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did so she could work, but that wasn’t the case. However, it was the other neglectful things she was doing: taking from the household accounts so much that some nights I didn’t have enough to feed the kids; using Gus’ trust fund as her personal piggy bank until Brian and I put a stop to that; but the kicker was her leaving both of the kids in the museum after she’d forgotten that she brought them there. She was too busy fucking the curator and his wife downstairs where the cataloging is done, that when she was finished, she’d forgotten to at least collect the kids. It was a good thing that one of the other patrons, who just happened to be the principal at Gus’ school, called me instead of the police and child services.

"When we arrived home, Lindsay still wasn’t home, nor was she out looking for the kids. Instead she was out shopping for another ‘party’ her boss said that she just must attend. No, I didn’t just take the kids from Lindsay because of her extracurricular activities. There was a lot more to that story, but my mother had always warned me that no one can turn a whore into a housewife. Sadly, I tried, even if I didn’t know I was doing it at the time.”

“Hey.” I nudge her. “You going to be okay?”

Mel shakes herself and then smiles at me. “Absolutely! Besides, whatever my introspection on the subject of Lindsay Peterson is, Leda more than takes my mind off of it.”

“Are you two going to try again?”

“It’s too soon to tell, but I’ve decided to take a page out of Brian and Justin’s books. I’m going to ride the wave as long as it lasts.”

“Don’t you mean ride Leda?”

“Yeah, that too,” She smiles wide as the woman in question comes upon us.

“My ears are burning, Sugar Lips. That can only mean one thing…” she places a gentle kiss to Mel’s neck from behind while Mel blushes. I never thought I would ever see that!

“Well, you always were an interesting topic.”

“And it looks like you’re about to become one again,” I say, as I watch Lindsay ask the person behind her to hold her place in line.

As she heads over to us, I can almost swear I see flames shooting out of her eyes and smoke billowing from her ears. Her already too-thin lips are set in an even firmer line and have a downward bend to them. She kind of reminds me of Skeeter from the Muppets right now. The only thing missing is the Don King-esque hairdo, but perhaps I’ll get lucky and see that. I have a feeling that if she messes with Mel or Leda, they’ll make that perfect coif look like she stuck her fingers in a light socket. And why I am I praying to God, who I haven’t prayed to in years, for that to happen? Bad Miranda!

“Melanie, this is highly inappropriate,” she says, looking disapprovingly at the pair who are still hugged up.

“Not sure what you mean, Lindsay.”

“I mean… I mean you standing here with this Harley-riding tartlet while our marriage just ended! That’s what I mean!” she screeches, drawing all attention to her.

“Got news for you, Ms. Peterson. Our marriage- or should I call it your windfall of unlimited funds- ended the day you spread your legs for someone other than me. I was just in denial, which I happily got over. What’s your excuse?”

“Mel…”

“That’s Ms. Marcus to you. Only my friends and close relations call me Mel”

“Mel,” Lindsay sighs, despairingly. “After all we’ve been to each other, you can treat me like this?” She tries for the little girl lost look and sound, which is failing miserably. Apparently she forgot what a bitch she was to everyone when she first arrived and is going for the ‘sympathy’ look.

She reaches for Melanie, who is quickly removed beyond her reach by Leda. “Not so fast, Loosy Goosy. I doubt Melanie wants your taint on her. You should go back over to the line before you lose your place, not that you have any business there in the first place.”

“Excuse me, Leda. But this is between me and my wife, so butt out!” she yells, but quickly composes herself. “Melanie, I would appreciate it if you would control your harlot long enough for us to have a civil conversation.”

“She doesn’t need to control me, Loosy. I’m perfectly capable of controlling myself, unlike you. Besides, you don’t have a wife, or did you forget? Now me on the other hand, I have a very hot young thang and she knows it. There’s no need for me to go looking elsewhere now that she’s back where she’s always belonged. What have you got? Oh that’s right! You have Michael. Talk about a match born of Beelzebub.”

I can’t help it… I laugh! “I’m sorry…”

“You should be!” Lindsay reprimands me.

“No, you should be, since he’ll probably be asking to stay with you now that he’s been kicked out. But wait a moment, though. Where are you staying? Last I heard, you spent the night at his former house last night. You need an address to sign up for the competition, you know.”

“Don’t worry about where Michael and I are staying. Brian will be happy to arrange us a place to stay since both of our wayward spouses have ousted us unfairly.” Now Mel and Leda join in with me, laughing. “Just what the hell is so funny?!”

“Careful, Lindsay. Your WASP mask is slipping again,” I warn her. “But to answer your question, if you think that Brian and Justin are going to put either one of you up in a place to stay, you’re even more delusional than he is.”

“I don’t care what you say. No way will Brian let his two best friends be homeless. He owes us!”

Melanie bristles at Lindsay. “He doesn’t owe you shit! In fact, no one does unless it’s a kick to the ass, the same way you have been kicking us in ours for years. You and Michael deserve each other! Such entitled jackasses, the both of you. When the hell are you going to grow up and learn to take care of yourselves?!”

“Calm down, Sugar Lips,” Leda says, as she pulls Mel’s body tightly against her own. Lindsay’s eyes flair at the endearment, and the sight, but the two of them ignore her. “She’s always going to be stuck in her own world. I mean, look at where she’s standing. She’s at a competition she’s sorely underqualified for, whereas you… well, you’re going into practice for yourself. You have a new house, and what does she have? Her twin brother from another mother- I'd sure as hell be a bitter bitch, too. But neither one of their mothers want the little orphan PITAs, so if anything they deserve our pity. All monkeys, babies, and fools do. Lindsay dear, which one are you trying to be today?”

I laugh again as she turns on her heel and marches over to the line. Once again, she is pushed towards the back but this time, it’s by the people who have come after her. Ah, it’s going to be an interesting day!

CHAPTER 8: GUILT IS FOR INSECURE PEOPLE

An hour later at Kinnetik…

BRIAN:

I have to admit that Justin is a fucking genius! Not only that, which is a given since he chose me, but the fact that Connor and Brett understand the logic of Justin’s proposal to expand in a relatively short amount of time, is what lets me know that Kinnetik JTD just went global. After the particulars of the deal with Kell-Jam were hammered out, we all agreed that once word gets out, the folks in L.A. will be clamoring to have Kinnetik represent them, just for the opportunity to work with Justin and his staff. And since Justin is all about evening the odds between boss and worker as much as possible, the people coming to us will either come around to his way of thinking or we don’t sign them. The funny thing is that if they don’t, they will find themselves losing employees faster than a hemophiliac loses blood. Only instead of the red stuff, they’ll be hemorrhaging green.

At this rate, we’re going to have a bunch of employees making money hand over fist while busting their balls to make sure both companies succeed. Which with the formula Justin and I implemented to boost company morale and retain the best and brightest in this business by allowing them to buy into Kinnetik so they feel as if they own a piece of it. It’s something that is going to keep us in business for many years to come without the high turnover rate so many other companies have because they just didn’t value their employees enough to give them something they can call their own. It was and still is a unique concept, and pure fucking genius!

“Brian, that was Frank on the phone. I hate to tell you this, but Captain Asshole is back and demanding to see you right now. He says it’s urgent,” Cynthia tells me as she rolls her eyes.

Justin looks over at me, folding his lips into his mouth. I can tell he wants to say something, but for whatever reason, he’s leaving the decision of how to deal with Michael solely up to me. First Lindsay’s drama, now Michael’s; when the hell do I get a break?! The fact is that I don’t, unless I take one. And I think it’s time I do that right now. “Two things, Justin… is the paperwork ready, and Ted, is Ben on his way here? I think he should be here if I decide to see Michael.”

Ted shook his head. “I don’t know if he’s coming here. I know that he was supposed to meet Jen at the former home of Red Cape Comics. Apparently, he’s looking to downsize now that he’s dropped the deadweight- his words, not mine.”

“Call him then, and tell him to get over here asap. I would like to hear his take on things before entering the Michael-induced haze of half-truths once again. Or better yet, does he have video conferencing on his phone?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll call and ask.”

“Do that, and tell him to fax any pertinent documents to me immediately. Chances are that although Jenn is the new owner, Michael wasn’t smart and the original documents aren’t filed properly. So my guess is that they are still within the store somewhere.”

“Exactly what are you looking for, Brian?”” Justin asks me.

“A couple of things, actually. First, there is the store’s original ownership. Then there is the account ledger which should have been updated regularly when Ben paid the rent, and last but not least, I want to see Michael’s contract with the publisher. I’m almost willing to bet that it reads significantly differently from the one he gave you.”

“Hey guys,” Ben’s voice comes over the computer. “I take it my EX-husband has made it to you by now.”

“He’s waiting downstairs in the lobby with Frank for company at the moment,” I answer. “I don’t want him up here until I get your opinion on something.”

“No problem. I’m here at the building with Jenn and Melanie, so ask away,” Ben offers.

“You’re at Red Cape… wow! Jenn, you move fast!”

“Indeed I do, Brian. The store was located on prime real estate, as we both know. But the fact that it was a simple comic book store made it more valuable as a parking lot, than its intended purpose.”

“Good to know that Kinnetik will no longer be bleeding money, trying to save a useless venture. I can’t tell you how many times Ted and I told Michael to expand beyond what he had been doing. The most lucrative thing to move in that store wasn’t those old, musty comics; it was the Rage franchise. Which leads me to this call… Ben, do you think Michael would accept a bid for the franchise now that he has nothing?”

“You would know better than I would Brian, but I can tell you that he’s still determined that Justin draw the comic. He and Lindsay were arguing earlier about it, and I recorded the conversation.” He fumbles with his phone, before the voices of Michael and Lindsay’s planning session comes over the computer speakers. They really are toxic! But Ben is just as sneaky, only in a good way, since he also recorded the ousting of Michael from his life, and Lindsay’s response to it.

“So this conversation is when you decided that a week was too long?”

“Yes, and no. I’d actually started thinking it was too long after I hung up with Deb last night. So I decided that I would adhere to that, until she called me this morning to give me the update. It turns out that, as suspected, Michael was meeting with Ethan Gold this morning at the Diner when she had arrived. Lindsay had come in sometime later, but not before Deb, in all her glory, read Ethan the riot act in front of Michael before turning her venom towards him. Of course, Lindsay tried to play innocent, but it didn’t fly with Deb, either. So, long story short, they came home fuming after visiting you at the office earlier, and decided to plan their next mode of attack. While they were, I packed Michael’s things and left them at the curb for the trash pickup. So I’m sure he’s there, thinking you are going to put him and Lindsay up in the loft with you and Justin. After all, you wouldn’t want to see your two best friends homeless.”

“Well, I always knew he was a damned fool,” Justin stated. “Mel, I want to offer to buy Michael out of the franchise, but I’m no longer sure about the figure I want to offer. Considering what is still owed to Kinnetik, even after the clause of forfeiture was invoked and the subsequent sale to Mom, what do you and Ted think would be a fair offer at this point?”

I look over at Connor and Brandon, who are still following the conversation closely, even though our business is concluded. I can’t help but wonder why that is, but then I remember that they were just as invested in Rage as Justin was as the artist. From both a business standpoint, and the fact that they both consider him a friend of sorts, it makes sense.

“What was the original figure for the offer again, Justin?” Connor asks.

“I was being generous in having the papers drawn up for fifteen grand. The franchise itself is worth over a million dollars, but I let Michael slide with some creative accounting in the past, before I knew that he was actually cheating us as Kinnetik prior to joining our business ventures together. Now that it’s out in the open, I want to recoup that money, but give him enough to get a room at the no-tell motel down at the other end of Liberty until he can find himself a new job and permanent lodgings. The loft is definitely NOT an option.”

“Hmm… I have an idea about the loft building, but I don’t know if you both would go for it or not,” Brett says. “You said that you both own the entire building?”

“Yeah, Brian had bought it some time ago in anticipation of my return. Why?”

“Are all the units furnished?” Connor asks, apparently catching onto Brett’s way of thinking.

“Not all of them, with the exception of the one I’ve owned for almost twelve years. It was my first place when I’d landed a job at Ryder Agency…”

“And a place that continues to hold sentimental value for us,” Justin interjected. I smiled remembering the first time we fucked, and all the other important moments of our lives that made he and I who we’ve become as the Taylor-Kinneys.

“Well, I know that a few of us are already tired of the rigors of staying in a hotel, versus the comforts of home. How would it work for you if those who are came to you for a short-term lease option with an option to extend it later? Based on the conversation we had earlier in regards to the potential expansion of your business for ours, I can’t see that this is necessarily a bad proposition to make,” Brett asks, as Justin smiles brightly.

“Plus, then we won’t exactly be lying when we tell Michael that there are no vacancies in the building. Besides, you know that where Michael ends up, Lindsay is sure to follow. The fact that the building is secure will be an added benefit to the people living there. We can hire security guards to mind the front desk since the lobby is already equipped for it. Neither Michael, Lindsay nor their heretofore unknown allies will be able to gain entry beyond the lobby. We’ll just have to select the tenants carefully.”

“But Mom, can we do that without incurring any discrimination lawsuits?” I ask, because I see the wisdom of what they are suggesting but I don’t want any potential backlash.

“Technically, that would be a tightrope you’d all be walking. However, because of the nature of the potential occupants, and the fact that they all are basically here for a televised competition and therefore would be considered a form of celebrity in their own rights, I doubt they would have problems with the stipulations you’d put on your property. It’s not like you are doing anything different than what you would do at Kinnetik with unwanted visitors. It’s business, plain and simple. The potential occupants have the right to accept the terms of the agreement or look for a semi-permanent residence elsewhere.”

“When put in terms like that, it makes sense all the way around. Plus, Justin and I will make money off the deal as will you as our broker, Mom. Connor and Brett, any ideas on who should benefit from the arrangement?”

Connor answers for them both, “I would say start with all of the judges. The last thing any of us need are disgruntled contestants staking out our hotel rooms because their offerings were mediocre. Unlike Justin, most tend to get bitchy instead of taking the constructive criticism and applying it where it’s needed most. I’ve always respected that attitude in him.”

Justin mock bowed, causing us all to laugh. “So Mel, can you and Ted redo the offer in the amount of ten grand, with the stipulation that he is now unauthorized to sell any merchandise or make appearances as co-Creator of the Rage franchise? In fact, I’d like a cease and desist order drawn up immediately to that effect, before the offer is even mentioned.”

“You’ll have it within the hour, Baby, along with Miranda and I there as your agent and attorney. Michael may have selective hearing in most things, but he now knows what happens when he disregards an attorney. Brian and Ted acted swiftly in seizing control of Red Cape Comics, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it or argue against since he had fair warning that the debt he owed was being called due posthaste. He decided that his brand of friendship automatically canceled out his instant amnesia that the money was loaned to him, NOT a gift. And might I say that I am proud of you! All of those long talks we’ve had years ago about your rights under the contract are certainly paying off in spades now.”

“I learned from two of the best: you and Brian. When it comes to seeing to my benefit, you two excel and I just listened well. Knocking five grand off the offer still won’t recoup all the money, but I refuse to give Michael an additional way to whine our ears off. At least this way, he’ll have to prioritize, if he’s smart. But then again, who am I kidding? When has Michael ever been smart. He’ll probably blow his new windfall on toys since he’s lost the most valuable pieces in collection which he kept in the store to show off.”

“I think Lindsay will put an immediate stop to that way of thinking, after all she’ll probably be staying with him since she’s mostly in the same boat,” Mel says. “Once we blocked her access to Gus’ accounts, and I wouldn’t give her any money past what she earned when she was working at the museum, she learned just how little she put away for a rainy day. It didn’t help that I found out Michael sent her money for the trip to New York that I had refused to pay for.”

“What trip? And when was it?” Justin asks.

“It was a few months ago, actually. And it was when her fuckbuddy, Sam Auerbach, had a show.”

“That puts it right around the time that she’d called Michael to tell him that you both had fallen behind in the rent,” Ben grits out. “I gave him the money to send to Canada!”

“Partially, Ben,” Justin interjects. “Michael called bitching to me about drawing the Rage panels faster, because he needed the money since he had to let his storage unit go…”

“What storage unit?!”

“Oh, you didn’t know about that?”

“No. I just knew that there was an influx of bullshit making its way into the basement as I sat grading papers for my class the next day. Do you know what was in it?”

Justin hesitates for the first time during the conversation and suddenly, I feel the bottom of my stomach take a dive. “Justin, do you know what was in that storage locker?”

He sighs, and I can feel the weight the action costs him. But I’m not sure if it’s solely on my behalf, or Ben’s. “Blown up pictures of you and him; a faux setup of how the loft was decorated pre-Stockwell, and… a chest full of things from your childhood, Brian. Somehow, he’d been adding to his collection even since that time. I caught him in his office one day, mooning over the pictures he’d taken of it, and confronted him about it. The problem wasn’t that he had them, but that he somehow got the person running the front desk to add my name to the record. It was before I’d left with Ethan. Michael said that if I said anything, he would make sure I took the fall and seem like the stalker I am. At the time, we weren’t on as sure of footing as we are right now, and then later when we’d gotten back together, I’d just forgotten about it.”

“What else is it that you aren’t telling me?” I ask, quietly.

“What makes you think there’s anything else?” I just stand there looking at him, waiting. He shifts from foot-to-foot, until finally he can’t stand it anymore. It’s funny, but we both have perfected the art of digging for the truth without uttering a single question. He breaks, “Oh alright! There was stuff in there from when the loft was burgled years ago and later, the stuff you sold after Stockwell. I didn’t know how he’d gotten it, so I didn’t outright accuse him of anything. For all I knew, it could have been stuff that was auctioned off and we both know that you are Michael’s most valuable collectable!”

“That’s true, Brian,” both Mel and Ben say, stopping the tirade at Justin I felt bubbling up inside. “And the same goes for Lindsay,” Mel interjects.

“Only, it’s a little different with her,” Jennifer says. “It’s more about you being a precious commodity to her. It's much different than being a collectable which has to be barted for and bought. To Lindsay's warped way of thinking, she's owned you from the onset therefore has always considered you her asset. If people wanted to get to you, they had to go through her. Michael thinks about in the same way, only it's where tricks are concerned so they don't really matter in the scheme of your career. But to Lindsay, your continued and upward success is credit to her supposed societal influence. The fact that you are able to rub elbows and shake hands with A-listers is because of her taking you under her wing before you came to work for Ryder. So if she was able to control you, and your reactions, especially where my son- and your wildcard- is concerned, she would feel as if she’s won the jackpot. It’s how she was able to manipulate you into giving her what she wanted so well over the years. It’s almost the way a stage mother sees her child. It’s exactly how she’s trying to manage Justin’s life and career, but it isn’t working out for her the way it had with you until you started pushing back.”

“In her mind, she made you, Brian,” Mel tells me. “She’s alluded to it more times than I could count over the years.”

I absorb all their words, and realize that they are right. It’s funny that her motives always seemed so pure, and about my well-being. Passive-aggressive guilt was the tool she used to get me to encourage Justin go to New York, even as she was taking my son to the Great White North. In my mind, being with me was holding Justin back, especially after his stint in L.A. At the time, I couldn’t see that he wouldn’t have wanted it without me by his side. As for Lindsay’s sudden defection, I thought it was because I was taking her friendship for granted, like I’d thought it would always be there when in fact, I’d spent most of my life believing the opposite. Add that to the helplessness I felt due to Babylon’s bombing, and it was a recipe the witch cooked up to get me to do what she wanted without question.

But now, I know that Lindsay has been leading me to something bigger… and this isn’t just about Justin’s career. No, it’s about recreating the scene of so many households where there’s a wife, a husband, and the mistress. This is about Lindsay having her picket-fenced dreams, and exerting control over me and Justin the way so many wives within her set do. Yes, they know about their husbands affairs, but they also use the mistress to keep the husband in line. Instead of simply divorcing their husbands and walking away, they play a power game in which they maintain the manner of living they’re used to, but still able to pull the strings behind the scenes. For Lindsay, it’s all about greed and power within the art world, and triumph over the women in her family. To her thinking, if she controls the new darling of the art world, and the money backing him, then she’ll be considered a queen within her small-minded existence. Cultivating Gus to get her all the money she wanted from me was just the added bonus.

Justin interrupts my thoughts. “So we’re agreed to have Michael wait there indefinitely?”

“We are,” I concur. “But Mom, Mel, and Ben, do me a favor. Use the side entrance which leads directly to my office when you arrive. The element of surprise is always best with Michael, and if he sees either of you, he’ll cause a major scene just to get the attention he feels he deserves. Also Ben, you might want to tell Deb about the latest development.”

“I thought I might give Michael a chance to come clean on his own,” he says, but I shake my head.

“No. Although Deb says she’s tired of Michael’s crap, she’s still his mother. She needs to know everything, especially about Justin’s offer to buy Michael out of Rage, before he has a chance to talk to her. If not, he’ll just turn on the tears and she’ll be as vulnerable to him as always. She has to let him go and reap the consequences of his actions.”

“And what about Lindsay?” Mom asks.

“Let her keep doing what she’s doing,” I say. “She has to be seen as the fraud and conniving bitch she is; having her machinations exposed to the world is the most effective way to do that. No one, not even her pet, Satan Craswell, will want to associate with her after that, no matter that they are cut from the same cloth. It’s all about how they are perceived, and no one will want to show at his new gallery if he keeps up his association with her after this. As for Justin, he will keep doing exactly what he’s doing, which is setting the world on fire while ensuring his place among the great artistes. Sunshine, you have to ignore her… or if that’s impossible, you can’t let her see that she’s getting to you. Image is the name of the game now, and it’s everything when the camera is rolling. Remember just as she’s going to be on the world’s stage, so are you! It wouldn’t due to give people a surefire way to piss you off. Those who know you and have worked with you over the years know the caliber of professional you are. Don’t let Lindsay’s inherent jealousy and stupidity ruin that.”

“I won’t, Brian. And as we’ve all been saying, the element of surprise works best. She’ll definitely be surprised when I remain unbothered by her antics. Besides, we all know that the best revenge is to ignore Lindsay. In her mind she should be seen as the victim, and be viewed as the Madonna in her own melodrama. It will make her blood boil that she can’t get me to react the way she wants me to, while negating all of her hard work to be seen as the innocent.”

“In that case, I think we should pair her with Stacey Peete,” Connor says, with a Joker-esque grin on his face and rubbing his hands. “They will drive each other crazy!”

“True! Two egomanics vying for attention is a recipe for hilarity, ” Melanie laughs. “You all should have seen Lindsay earlier when she pulled out her little girl lost routine before channeling her inner-Linda Blair... yep, I’ll call Miranda.”

“Well, one problem down for now, and one major pain in the ass to go,” I say.

Justin grins, evilly. “And I’m especially looking forward to handling

that one!”  

CHAPTER 9: SHIPWRECKED

JUSTIN:

As it turns out, someone had already given Debbie a play-by-play of the scene earlier at Ben and Mikey’s former abode. Well, they gave it to Emmett, who in turn called Ted who was as open and honest as Ted usually is when speaking to his best friend. So Emmett was all too happy to play message-boy before Ben agreed to give Debbie all the facts himself. It kinda restores my faith that the Gay grapevine can sometimes be used for good instead of evil. There is no way that Michael will be able to garner sympathy and squirm his way off the hook he’s sunk into his own ass by being the malicious-minded, militant-just-a-hair taller than a-midget he is. About time is what I say, but I know… gloating about another person’s downfall is not good, even if it’s not aloud. Their hardship today can be your own tomorrow. But in my case, I simply cannot help myself.

Michael deserves it for all the times he’s come between me and Brian; for all the times he’s tried to sabotage me simply to keep Brian trapped within his little narrow-minded view of him. Looks like all his chickens are finally coming home to roost, and the sinking ship he intended for me is the one he’s about to drown in. He deserves it for being so quick to run to Brian about Ethan, instead of really acting as the friend he led me to believe he was to me by giving Brian all the facts that he was privy to because I trusted him for that short, albeit stupid period of my life. But because he was so desperate to have the Brian and Mikey Show rerun in syndicate, he told a bunch of half-truths to both Brian and me. What kind of friend longs to hurt the other’s relationship just so they could laugh and point, and say ‘See I told you so!’ when the person they claim is their best friend was so clearly suffering? In a simple name, the words jealousy and spite could be replaced in any language and dictionary as: Michael Charles Novotny.

So in my world, that fact that he’s suffering now with no one to lean on except his female counterpart, Lindsay, is called justice! And after all Brian and I have fought through to be together- the mountains of insecurities, interfering friends, and sometimes just a string of bad luck or poor decisions- we deserve to reap the benefits of our hard work and perseverance. Listening to the recording of them continuing to connive, and plot to erode the upward mobility that Brian and I are making, not only in business but within our relationship, makes me even more determined to expose them for the selfish idiots they are. But Brian is right… I have to let them self-destruct while still being able to keep my credibility and career goals on the fast track. It’s going to be damned hard though, since my patience with them has been wearing thin for YEARS. But I need to remember, it’s when I lose sight of the bigger picture that I fuck up. I have no intention of giving them that victory!

“Ready?” Brian asks me as he comes to stand in front of me.

“As much as I’m going to be… but do me a favor?”

“Anything,” he says, in soft sigh.

More than anything else, I know how much this is affecting him. I mean, he’s having to let go of two relationships that he’s depended on for more than half of his life. But at long last, he sees what they have been doing and are still trying to do to tie him eternally to them, and Brian’s finally had enough. It’s hard not to feel some measure of gratification and validation in that. However, that said, it’s going to be my job in this moment to protect his mind and heart as best I can from the one person who has had over twenty years to learn how to push all of Brian’s buttons. I won’t stand for it.

“Sit next to me, but let me do the talking,” I say, meeting his eyes dead-on. He scowls at me, but I rush ahead. “Yes, we are joint CEOs of Kinnetik, but he will try to put you in the middle using your friendship as a club, the way he’s done so many times before. He’ll play on your shared memories of Jack’s abuse and all the times he’s supposedly taken care of you to garner sympathy and to force you to make a choice between him and me. On the other side of that scenario, it’s something he can’t do that with me. Of course, he’ll remind you of the Ethan situation because technically it’s all he has to hang over my head. Michael’s desperation to get you to side with him will make him slip up more than any defense of yourself, or defense of your actions that you could utter. So let me do the talking. This is about Rage, even though he will certainly try to turn it into something else. I want to keep it on a professional level. He won’t be able to use his usual tactics to evade the real issue of this meeting, which is to offer him money to fuck off.”

“He still won’t you know.”

“Of course he won’t, but once the money is gone, it’s gone. If he’s smart, he won’t tell Lindsay that he has any. Instead, he’ll find a thrifty way to live and will be so busy working that he won’t have time to engage in further bullshit.”

“But when has Michael ever been smart?”

“He is, but only when it suits him. The question is, what will suit him this time: will his self-preservation kick in, or will he continue allow Lindsay to lead him around, first by the wallet, and then by the balls? Before you answer, remember that they have a common goal in mind, which is to find a way to keep us apart. It’s the ONLY time he really listens to her. It will be interesting to see what he does when he realizes that once the money is gone, there will be no more. So what he does with it will matter, since you’re not going to rescue him financially this time. If he allows Lindsay to talk him out of ten grand, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.”

“You guys ready to get this done?” Mom asks. “I have people scheduled to meet me at the loft apartments by six tonight.”

“Sure Mom,” Brian tells her. “Speaking of which, Ben, have you decided?”

“Yeah. I’m one of those people meeting with Jen at the lofts tonight.”

“You know Michael isn’t going to be too happy.” I chuckle.

Ben laughs back. “No he won’t be, since I will have what he’s always wanted in a sense.”

“What’s that?” Miranda asks.

“To live in a kick ass loft on Tremont. Granted, it’s not going to be with Brian, but it’s still the standard by which Michael judges any place worth living. It’s why the house held a certain appeal for him. Each of the bedrooms upstairs are like miniature loft apartments, complete with an en suite bathroom and an open concept living room space. The only thing the rooms don’t have is their own kitchen and dining room space, which there is already available, fully-equipped with top of the line appliances on the main floor. The owners before me had planned to rent it out to college students once the renovations were completed.”

“So what will you do with it now?” I ask, because admittedly, when I stayed a few nights there before Brian and I decided I should go to New York, I had seriously considered renting it from Ben. But Michael’s continued presence and persistence about working on Rage was a very quick deterrent from that way of thinking.

“And the basement? What are you going to do with that space?” Brian asks, already seeing the potential. I know him like the back of my hand.

“Jen and I talked about it, and both of us think it’s a good source of income for me to rent it out. The rental from one unit alone will more than satisfy the mortgage on the loft apartment, although I could actually afford to buy it upfront from you guys now instead of having the monthly payment.”

“Then why not do that instead of waiting?” Miranda asks.

“I guess I just wanted a cushion in case it takes a while to rent the house out to full occupancy.”

Brian and I have one of those silent conversations that we’re known for, and I smile knowing that we are on the same page once again. “Ben, Brian and I would like to make an offer for the house as soon as Mom can get the appraisal done.”

“I can’t let you guys do that! That’s...”

“You’re not letting us do anything,” Brian says. “Once the appraisal is done, we’ll use that money towards your purchase of the loft apartment. Besides, call us cautious but if there is residential space designated to college students, neither Michael nor Lindsay will be qualified to rent it. And they won’t be able to convince you to let them either.”

“Ben,” I say, softening the blow of Brian’s words, “we see this as a way to add to our joint real estate portfolio, it’s true. But also it’s a way for you to move on without feeling the least bit guilty. Underneath it all, you may be tired of Michael and his shit, but you still have a good heart where he’s concerned. He’s been able to play on your good intentions for far too long; same with Brian. Since I will be in charge of the house, and any rentals that come from it, Michael doesn’t stand a chance with me. Lindsay better not even think to try and wheedle me because it won’t take but a New York minute for me to burn her. She’s been on my shit list for awhile now, but even moreso since this morning. She would do well to stay clear of me except by way of forced interaction.”

Ben seems to mull over his decision for a few moments. While he does, Brian asks me, “Are you sure about the profit margin on this, Sunshine?”

Mom jumps in, speaking directly to Brian. “Of course, he’s sure, Darling. Given the fact that where Ben’s soon-to-be former house is located, it’s considered prime real estate. Most of the families there are well-to-do younger couples with the older mom and pops, who are always looking to nurture the younger set since their kids are all grown now. Many of them don’t want to leave the place where their families have grown up. As for the younger families, they are always looking for people to babysit, or do odd jobs around their homes for a nominal fee so it’s a win for those college students who need time to study, but would like to actually have an income beyond paying rent and other school fees.”

“Okay, but we don’t want any homophobes or riffraff renting there,” Brian says.

“There won’t be,” I reassure him. “In fact, I would love it if you would interview the applicants before we make a decision on letting them stay. You have a better bullshit detector when it comes to people giving snow jobs. It what makes you so successful in advertising. Besides, I may be the owner on record, but we share everything jointly, so it’s not just mine, and I’ve always valued your opinion.”

Brian nods. “Okay, so we’ll need the specs on the place and to get the word out as soon as possible even while we’re getting the house appraised. We can deal with the transfer of ownership later, but the sooner the ad is in the paper and on campuses, the better.”

Cynthia rushes back into the office, looking like she’s ready to commit murder. There’s no doubt who is making her feel that way. “Are we ready to begin? I swear if I go to my office one more time, only to be accosted and whined at by that manchild, I swear that he will be tasting my Manolos from one end and shitting them from the other until he’s fifty!!!”

I’m hard-pressed not to both laugh and wince at the same time. It takes a lot to get Cynthia to this point, but I understand wholeheartedly where she’s coming from. On a good day, Michael can be at his most annoying, but on a bad day in his world… Well on a bad day, you just want to do everything you can to put him out of YOUR misery. I can’t even blame it on his upbringing at this point. This is just plain old jealous, self-entitled Michael rearing its ugly head yet again.

“Calm down, Cyn…” Brian tries, but is stopped with the most murderous look any of us have ever seen from her.

“This is me CALM, Brian. If not, there would already be enough blood splatter covering the lobby to even make a CSI agent vomit. Let’s get this shit done, NOW!”

Before Brian has a chance to say anything else, I take the office phone in hand and dial the one person who needs to be included. I wait for her to pick up, knowing that she should be off work and at home by now. “Hey Deb, it’s Justin. I’m sure you heard the gist of everything that has gone on today.”

“Yeah, Sunshine, I heard. And I’m so mad I could spit bullets at Michael’s ass! I mean of all the stupid, outrageous, imbecilic things he has ever done…”

“I know, Deb,” I cut off her tirade before she really gets a roll going. “To top it off, he’s back here at Kinnetik where he was banned not three hours ago. But the reason I’m- we’re- calling is so that you can hear the conversation that’s about to take place firsthand. I’m going to offer Michael a one-time payment for the sole rights to Rage. If he takes it, he’ll have enough money to live on until he gets a place to stay and find a job.”

“Okay, but I detect a ‘but’ somewhere in that statement.”

I sigh before answering. “Well the choice of what he does with the money is entirely up to him. Seeing how he’s keeping company with Lindsay lately, it’s not guaranteed that he will actually use the money for its intended purpose.”

“It will be if I have anything to say about it,” she says grimly.

“That’s the thing, Deb. Michael has always had you to fall back on…”

“I know, and I regret that more than you could ever know.”

“I don’t doubt it, Deb. But this time, if he buys into Lindsay’s schemes, he’ll be even worse off before this all started. Brian and I are not prepared to pull his ass out of hock this time, no matter what kind of ditch he digs for himself. We hope you understand that.”

There is silence on the end of the phone shortly before a deep sigh. “I understand. And I’ll try to talk sense into him, but you know how hard-headed my son can be…”

“Yes, we know. But this time if he fails to do the right thing for himself and by himself, he’ll have no one to blame but himself. There is no room in our lives to cater to Michael’s wants and supposed needs. Those days are over for the both of us. And if you’re honest with yourself, they should be over for you, too. It’s the only way that he will stop leaning on all of us for loans that he never has any intention of paying back. None of us are made of money, and we sure as hell don’t bleed it. All of us has had to learn this lesson at some point in our lives, but Michael and Lindsay haven’t. They don’t want to learn to take care of themselves and their own problems. They would rather us risk everything, including our livelihoods for them so that they can have everything they feel they’re entitled to, while we try to salvage what’s left. But it’s time that at least Michael gets the message, loud and clear, that the way he chooses to live his life will no longer be at our expense- financially and literally. So I’m asking you not to buy into the bullshit you usually do no matter how much it will hurt to see him suffer through it. Can you do that?”

Another long pause later, she says, “Yes. It’s time he understands that the banks of Mom and Brian are closed.”

Brian comes up and whispers in my ear, “Who says you’re not an ad man? Bravo, Sunshine.”

And I can’t help but feel gratified at that, but I have to put those feelings to the side for now. Instead, I give him a bright smile, while turning my attention back to Debbie for a moment. “So Deb, we’re going to bring him in here now. We’re going to have you on speaker so that you can hear everything, but will mute the microphone so that if you have to yell, you’ll have the freedom to do it. If he says something that you just feel you have to address, use your cell phone to ring our phones and we’ll put the microphone back on, okay?”

“Will do, Sunshine,” she answers, resigned to the fact that this is what has to be done for her sake as well as ours. I understand how she feels, but I’ve gone past the resigned stage ages ago with Michael and Lindsay. There is no regret left in me about what has to be done to protect Brian’s sanity, and therefore my own.

“Okay, Ted can you go get Michael please? I would send Cynthia, but I think she needs a cooling off period.”

Ted chuckles as he leaves the room, while the rest of us mill about before taking our seats around the conference table in Brian’s office. Ordinarily, we would have used the conference room, but I know that Brian and I need to have a measure of comfort for this type of meeting. Being in here, surrounded by all the things that remind us of our lives together, provides a certain measure of distance from the tricks Michael is sure to try. On the desk, there is a picture of Gus with us, which I know is something Brian holds dear since it was just before I left for New York and Gus was whisked away to Canada. The painting over the fireplace is the largest one I had on display at the Bloom Gallery which that cunty fag, Simon almost creamed himself over. Then there are the other little memories and touches that this room holds: fucking on every single surface of this place including the table that we’re all sitting around… but the others don’t need to know that.

Michael comes in with tear tracks staining his face. I’m torn between the urge to laugh and slap him by turns when he spots Brian. Dramatically dropping his precious Captain Asshat cardboard cutout and the trashbags trailing behind, he runs and falls at Brian’s feet. What the fuck does he think this is? A Lifetime movie or something? Then the mumblings start…

“Oh Brian, you won’t believe the day I’ve had. Not only don’t I have the shop anymore, but Ben kicked me out and I have nowhere to go! I can’t believe how he’s acting! He had the nerve to tell me in front of Lindsay of all people, that he wants a divorce. Brian, you have to help me. Please?”

Annoyed, Brian answers his plea with a question of his own, “And just what the hell do you expect me to do about it? I warned you, didn’t I? I told you that Ben was going to get tired of the bullshit you and Lindsay indulge in whenever the mood suits you. And now look at you.”

“Briiiiaaaaaan, I’m your fucking best friend,” Michael’s screech could wake the dead. Where’s a good mallet when you need one, is all I can think, while resisting the urge to cover my ears. “You’re supposed to be on my side! You owe me! Call Ben and make him take me back, or… I know. Let me stay with you!”

“Nope!”

“No?! What the fuck do you mean NO?! Brian, I know that you’re not ditching me for your live in piece of ass! Boy Wonder can stay somewhere else while I stay with you!” He pouts and folds his arms while stomping his feet.

And right there is when I’ve had enough. This little twerp still thinks that he can displace me, as always. I would feel sorry for the dense idiot, but I probably ran out of sympathy just before the whole Ethan phase of our lives. I know that the only reason Brian didn’t stay silent was to give me time to get myself under a little more control after Michael’s dramatic entry. He knows me well enough to know what the hardest things are for me to tolerate. Using tears and tantrums to manipulate Brian ranks high up on the shit list, and Michael and Lindsay have been given way too many passes in my book.    

“That’s not going to happen, Michael,” I say sternly.

“No one asked you anything, Boy Wonder! I was talking to my best friend!”

“Really? Well where is he?”

“Brian is right here, you little shit!”

“Well I see Brian, of course, but I was talking about this imaginary best friend you are speaking of. Because I can tell you right now, Brian isn’t your best friend. No, that trial at the moment belongs to the harridan on a line downtown entering a competition she’s sorely underqualified for. But we’ll get to her in a moment. First, you and I have important business matters to discuss.”

“I don’t have anything to discuss with you!”

“Actually, you do. Since it concerns the future of Rage.” And as expected, that stops the tears and tantrums immediately.

“Well, it’s about fucking damn time you remembered your place!”

“My place?”

“Yeah. Let’s face it, Justin. You’re never going to be the caliber of artist that you think you are in your head. So why not just be satisfied drawing Rage? It’s about the only worthwhile exposure you’re bound to get.” He turns, finally looking around the conference room before he takes the only open seat, which is as far away from me and Brian as the table will allow. “What the fuck are you all doing here?!”

“They are here because I asked them to be. I wanted witnesses to the offer you’re about to receive from me. Bear in mind that it’s the only one you’re getting and there will be no negotiations on the terms. Are you ready to hear them?”

“Well I want Ben’s traitorous ass out of here! He has nothing to do with Rage business.”

“On the contrary, Michael,” Ben answers. “Since Dr. Ken Kirchner was done in my likeness, and Justin pays me a portion of the royalties he gets from his pocket for using my picture, it affects me as well. Speaking of which, you should be hearing from my attorney about that, too. Whereas Justin has asked, and compensated me for use of my likeness in a story, you, as the writer, did not.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Michael is back to screeching again. "You're my husband! Of course, I have your permission!"

“I’m talking about the steroids arc in Volume I: Issue II, and you implied that I wouldn't mind my story being out there for all the world to see. Justin understood just how personal some stories could be, and how although no amount of money pay for the pain of the experience, it still is nice to be compensated for having to relive it in print.”

“But Ben, we’re married,” he whines.

“Not here we’re not. Besides, we won’t be in Canada or anywhere else within the next few weeks either. So consider the figure my attorney will present to you payment for services rendered on top of everything else I will be asking for restitution for.”

“Ben!”

“No, Michael. You will not be able to sweet talk your way out of this with your sour tongue. If I were you, I would listen closely to what Justin has to say.”

I smile at Ben. I knew that he was going to pull the rug out from under Michael with that bit of news. All the while Michael was cheating me, he was also cheating Ben. It would have been different if Michael had put the money into the joint account as an unlimited one time fee, or even in incremental payments since we didn’t use Ken’s character as much as I would have liked to. Somehow Michael kept trying to evolve the story to the adventures of Zephyr and Rage, sans JT and Ken as much as possible. But since I’m the artist, and at the moment co-creator, Michael couldn’t get away with that way of thinking.

“Well what the fuck do you want, Boy Wonder?”

“His name is Justin!” Cynthia yells. “Use it, or lose teeth.”

“Look Lady, this doesn’t involve you either! Why don’t you just sit down and shut up?!”

“Michael, I think that should apply to you,” I say in a near-growl. I’m about two seconds away from walking down the length of the table to clock him. Brian obviously sees the tension thrumming through me as he takes my right hand and begins to massage. The gesture is not lost on anyone, but especially not on Michael.

“Brian, you need to stop…”

“Pay attention, Michael. This is about you,” Brian tells him, digging into an exceptionally sore spot in my palm. That’s where all the tension seems to radiate from whenever the pain starts. “Cynthia, can you get the warm compress out of the microwave?”

She nods and heads over to the corner where the minibar and fridge are stationed. Michael once again just has to say something. “Uh, while you’re up, I would like a water. I’m parched.” He rolls his eyes, folding his arms and tapping his foot impatiently.

I can see the moment Cynthia tenses up, but with a ramrod straight spine, she goes over to get the compress. Reaching into the refrigerator, she pulls out seven waters. After handing them out to me, Brian, Mom, Ted, Mel, Miranda, and one for herself, she hands Brian the compress and goes back to her seat to sit down.

“Hey,” Michael protests, but I cut him off.

“This is not a social visit, Michael,” I tell him as Brian wraps my hand in the cloth. The moist heat is so damn soothing to my aching muscles. I can see Michael questioning why Brian felt the need to wrap my hand, but there’s no way I’m telling him so that he could go back and report to his comrade in failure. There are very few people who know the extent of the hand trouble I have as a result of the bashing, and most of them, with the exception of Michael, are in this room. Deb also knows, but she’s never told anyone so I trust her not to start doing so to her son. “Now onto business. Michael I am prepared to offer you ten grand to buy you out of the comic today.”

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me, Michael. Ten grand. Under the terms of the contract Mel is going to hand you, you will no longer have anything to do with the franchise. You will not be on record any longer as the co-creator going forward. The items you have in your possession as of now, you may consider them as collectables, because from the moment you sign that paper, you may not sell, reproduce, or introduce yourself as an affiliate of the comic.”

“What the hell do you mean by this, Boy Wonder? If it wasn’t for me, there wouldn’t be a fucking comic!”

“We both know that you’re lying since no one would buy Rage for the dialogue. In fact, you couldn’t come up with an original thought in terms of storyline if it bit you on the hand and literally guided it to write. Now the pictures on the other hand…”

“Are something a preschooler could have done blindfolded.”

“Oh? Would you care to test that theory, since you are still a preschool-aged child in maturity?” I take a deep sigh, “Michael, I’m trying to save your ass here.”

“How? By ripping me off?!”

“I’m not ripping you off. That would make me just like you, and I would never destroy my professional reputation to do that. However, you on the other hand have no job, no store, no place to live. Ten thousand will help you get back on your feet, providing you spend it wisely.”

“What do you mean, I have no place to live? I already told Brian that I’m staying with him.”

“God, your ears just do NOT work, do they? YOU are NOT staying with Brian. The position of Brian’s partner has already been filled and everyday is gladly nearly fucked to within an inch of his life…multiple times, I might add.”

“Aww, Sunshine, you say the sweetest things,” Brian drawls, looking at me with so much heat in his eyes that all I want to do is get naked with him, right now.

“Later,” I tell him, the promise in my eyes meeting his own before I turn back to the pest of my existence. “Michael, the bottom line is that the loft is off limits. And there is no other place that Brian and I own that we would let you stay in. You are like one of those roaches on the Raid commercial. You check in, but you never check out. Besides that, there is the important factor of rent. If Brian let you stay in any of our properties, it would be an even worse situation than it was with your store. Instead of paying your rent, you would feel that you- a thirty year old man- are entitled to free lodgings. That’s not going to happen!”

“Brian, how can you let this twink talk for you? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! Of course, you would either let me stay with you, or pay rent on a new place for me until I get back on my feet. He doesn’t know you like I know you. You would never want to see your best friend out on the street, or sleeping on a park bench. I mean, if you put up the little shit standing there trying to act like a big man, surely you can put up your friend of more than twenty years? I mean, after all the times I put you up, you owe me! All the times Jack hurt you, I took care of you. You wouldn’t even probably be alive if I didn’t tell Ma what happened to your ribs when Jack stomped them. You can’t let this little shit come between us, Brian! I have always been here for you; it’s time that you are here for me!”

I clap my hands at the end of Michael’s monologue. “Excellent acting, Michael. Did you learn that reading Shakespeare, or Tolstoy perhaps?”

“What the fuck?! I am so tired of your shit!” Michael yells at me, but at this point I just laugh. He’s not getting away with any of the shit that he usually would if he was able to corner Brian alone. We can all see how much it’s frustrating him to no end. “I wish you had…”

“Finish that sentence, Michael, and this time you’ll be shitting your teeth,” Brian growls.

Looking over at him, I don’t think that I have ever seen him so angry that he’s actually on the border of teeth-baring. I put my left hand out to grasp the back of his neck, and although he calms down slightly, I can feel the tightly-coiled tension barely hiding beneath the surface of his skin. For Michael’s part, I’m hard-pressed not to start calling him Casper, because he’s whiter than a ghost right now.

“So I think it’s time to end this meeting. Michael, you only have one opportunity to accept the terms of the agreement. I will advise you one more time that this is the ONLY offer you are going to get, and once the money is gone, it’s gone. There will be no more coming, from either Brian nor myself. This is all we are willing to give you. Also, I would advise you to not tell your cohort in crime. Lindsay will convince you that you really need this or that, when it’s really her that wants it. If you let her coerce you into spending that money wastefully for whatever scheme or invented problem she comes up with, then you’re an even bigger jerk than I ever gave you credit for. You should keep in mind that she's already lied to you before to get money for a trip she couldn't fund herself, and that Mel outright refused to. So that said, I need your decision now, please and thank you.”

“And you’re just going to sit there and do this to me, Brian?!” Michael screeched. “Rage was MY dream, it was MY vision! All he ever did was draw some fucking pictures, and now he thinks he’s some fucking big shot because he’s plays with fucking paints! Well FUCK YOU! Some fucking friend you are! Wait until I tell Ma about this! After all the times I rescued you, I should’ve left you where Jack could…”

The cell phone buzzing on the table in front of me kills Michael’s tirade immediately, as he sees the name of his mother on my screen. Before he can reach for it, I snatch it up, glaring at him even as Brian presses the mute button to let the melodious strains of Deb burst forth.

“You fucking little ingrate! After all you have done for Brian…?! HOW DARE YOU?!”

“Ma?” Michael swallows hard, before he rallies. “Ma, you won’t believe what this piece of blond boy ass trash is trying to do to me! He…”

“Offered you a very fair deal. Which if I was you, I would take since your ass can sleep in the parking lot of Babylon for all I fucking care! Now you listen to me, you ungrateful idiot, and allow me to put some things into a complete perspective for you. You have NOTHING! No job. No husband. No friends, and I’m so ashamed of you right now that I don’t even want to claim you as a son! You are a fucking bully, is what you are. How fucking dare you bring Jack into this?!”

“I didn’t…”

“Yes. You. Fucking. DID! You meant exactly what you were about to say! How could you? Oh my God… all those times I blamed Brian, I was completely wrong. Since based on what I’ve heard it was you and that ever-running, rancid tongue of yours that caused the trouble stemming all the way back from high school. If I had known then what I know now, I would have probably let you get beat up a few of those times that Brian took the lumps for you. Maybe it would have taught you to keep that rat trap you call a mouth SHUT!”

“But Maaaa….”

“Don’t you ‘but Ma’ me, Michael, and stop your fucking whining! And don’t even think that I’m going to let you stay here! Every time I turn around you’re bleating about Brian being your best friend; that he doesn’t do love, that he has no emotions, when it’s you that is the heartless prick between the two of you, constantly throwing tantrums because he will NEVER want you as anything more than a friend or brother. Which right now, I can’t even see him wanting you as even that! And why would he, huh? I mean, you’re just as abusive as Joan with all her platitudes of love wrapped up in abuse and emotional neglect. Doesn’t feel so good to be compared to her, does it? Oh but then you constantly belittle Justin despite all of his accomplishments, calling him a ‘little shit’ or worse. Oh yes, Michael, I’ve heard it all. Both from you, Lindsay, and other patrons of the Diner, who have constantly marveled at Justin’s restraint in keeping from knocking you the fuck out. With some of the shit you’ve said, to not only Brian and Justin but to ALL of us at some point, it’s a wonder you haven’t been pushed into oncoming traffic long before now!

“You’re constantly complaining about how Brian and Justin live their lives, calling them children with impulse control issues, when it’s YOU who has no fucking control or discipline at all. Nothing is ever your damn fault! You ruin your marriage by being an asshole? It’s Brian, Justin and Ben’s fault. Your store gets taken from you because of your inability to hold up your end of the contract because you just had to have some fucking Captain Asshole, or Wonder Wuss, Bat Bitch or some other fucking useless toy? Then it’s Brian, Justin and Ted’s fault. You can’t get your head out of your ass, or stop trying to be up Brian’s ass so you can stop causing trouble? Well let me guess… that must be Lindsay’s fault since you’re so weak-willed and easily-influenced! And yet when I treat you like the six year old you act like, you want to claim your manhood? Well now take this on board, Michael! Being an adult- A REAL MAN- isn’t about passing the buck, but accepting responsibility for one’s actions. It’s about taking ownership of your mistakes as well as your successes; it’s about what you do, and not what you expect others to do for you. Brian AND Justin have earned the title of ‘man’ in more ways than you have ever had to. They have risen to EVERY fucking challenge set before them and learned some hard lessons along the way, while all you have ever done is ride their coattails, or whine and complain when you don’t get the attention you feel entitled to. But that ends now, Michael Charles Novotny! It ends right fucking now!

“I would advise you again to take the deal, find someplace to lay your head until you find something permanent and go get a fucking job. I don’t give a flying fig newton if it’s back at the Big Q, K-mart, fucking Starbucks, or fucking Valero gas station. Get off your ass and make something of yourself instead of being the bum with an ever-growing pile of bullshit excuses! But somehow I know that even now my advice is falling on deaf ears, so you do what you want. And while you continue to be the self-destructive, self-serving little clone and lapdog to Lindsay that you are, the rest of us will sit back and watch you live with the consequences of your own asshole actions, for once!”

The buzz of the dial tone was the only sound within the office after the loud click of the old-fashioned handset she refused to get rid of. She said that there were just times when the niceness of the push buttons on her cell phone just didn’t convey her anger well enough. I have to agree, since that loud sound within the silence in here said much more to any of us than her parting words to Michael ever could. I think her tirade shocked us all, but we could tell that with every word Michael uttered, she’d been boiling silently on the other end of the phone until she just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s an amazing feat to drive someone to the end of their patience where they don’t know whether to kiss or kill you, but none moreso than Michael has driven his own mother, who I suspect is at home kicking herself even now with recriminations about how she raised him and always defended him. Brian and I will have to stop by there after we leave here to do damage control to save Deb’s sanity. Otherwise, who knows what she might do when she next sees Michael or Lindsay.

Michael still looks a bit shell-shocked, but sorry. I just don’t have it in me to conjure up any more faux-sympathy on his behalf. Like Deb, I’m at the end of my patience with him. Clearing my throat, I decide to move this meeting along. “Michael, the terms of the agreement are quite clear. Again, I’m not negotiating on the price, but know that what you owed Kinnetik in rent, and other services rendered had been knocked off the original offer. The other money that was already spent within your possession, which was not yours in the first place, I’ve decided to consider it a loss. Had I not, I would have had to involve the police since you basically embezzled…”

“I did not!”

“YES. You. DID. You withheld a portion of the profits that was rightfully mine and used it for whatever you felt you wanted. But again, offering you the ten grand for the rights to Rage is compensation enough for me to be well rid of you. Since Mel drew up the original contract on your behalf, she has already gone over the offer and agreed with the terms. In turn, my agent, Miranda, who also possesses a law degree acted as my attorney in this matter. Kindly sign the paperwork so that Cynthia can notarize it and you can get the fuck out. We have other business to attend to, business which does NOT include you.”

He turns tearful eyes to Brian, hoping beyond hope that the patented puppy dog look will hold some weight with my lover at long last. Brian simply stared back with a blank look in his eyes, making Michael finally understand that he won’t find any support there. He continues to look around the room, narrowing his eyes before he turns his view back to me. “Fine! You win, Boy Wonder. Does it make you happy?”

“More than you can possibly know or understand, Michael.” I sign and date the check, then making three photocopies of it before handing it to him. I have Cynthia attach the copies to his document, mine, and one that will remain in the safe within Brian’s office. Call me cautious, but no way in hell would I EVER trust Michael. I smile, and sigh in relief that this part of our association is, at last, complete. “Remember, Michael, that’s ALL there is. So spend it wisely.”

He looks at me once more before gathering his belongings and heading towards the door. He stops, then looks back as if he’s going to say something, but by then, Brian is standing with his arms around my waist, so he thinks better of it. His eyes hardened once again as he finally leaves.

“Well you sure put a hurting on him, Justin. What’s next on the agenda?” Ted asks.

“He’s only a little wounded for now, Ted. I hold no illusions that this is over. Not by a long shot.” I can’t help but feel a little frisson of anxiety as I’m pulled even tighter against Brian; a sure sign that my fight or flight response is trying to assert itself. It’s something only Brian knows about me.

“Don’t worry about it, Sunshine. He gambled our friendship and lost. Now he has to live with the consequences. I’m still all in with you.”

And with those words, I can relax a bit until they make their next move. “As long as I’ve got you here to protect me, I’ll never worry, Bri.”

PART 2 (CHAPTER 10): THE REAL PETER PAN and HIS WASP WANNABE WENDY

MICHAEL:

I still can’t believe that Brian let that little bastard talk to me like that! I mean, what gave him the right to think he could dictate to Brian who should have his loyalty?! And the my mother…! How fucking dare she?! Who the hell does she think she is to turn against me, her own son?! I swear that bubble butt blond has them all as brainwashed as he is brain-damaged! Well, I won’t stand for it, and I know that I have to do something. But first I have to find a fucking place to stay. And that’s another thing… Ben will be so fucking sorry that he sided with Justin against me. And if he thinks he’s going to get out of this marriage without paying me what he owes me, he has another fucking think coming! I’m not signing anything without him paying me to do so, so he’ll just have to fucking deal with it. He’ll be stuck with me until I’m satisfied, not the other way around!

As I’m leaving the bank, I ran smack into the she-wolf of the Pitts. “Michael! I was just going to look for you!”

“I’m so sure,” I barely check the sneer in my voice. “Well what for?”

“I got into the competition,” Lindsay tells me, as she practically bounces on her toes in her excitement. She reminds me of one of those Peeki… Peeki… one of those small prissy dogs, whose name I can’t quite remember but I know I can’t stand.

“Well good for you,” I sneer for real this time.

She stops, and narrows her eyes at me. “Well I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm from you…”

“Sorry, but I’m all fucking out of enthusiasm for the day.”

“What’s your problem?” She looks up at where we’re standing. “And what are you doing here? Did Brian finally realize his mistake?!” She asks, excitedly.

I roll my eyes and respond through gritted teeth, “No, he did not.”

“Then why are you coming out of the bank?”

I reluctantly hear Justin’s words replaying themselves in my mind. I want to disregard them, but with the gleam of curiosity in Lindsay’s eyes right now, I have to wonder. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, realizing that I must be going nuts to listen to anything Boy fucking Wonder has to say, I answer her. “Boy Wonder decided to buy me out of Rage.”

“Oh that’s wonderful, Michael. I mean, I told you it was a waste of time for him to keep drawing that fucking rag…”

“It’s NOT a rag, Lindsay! It was MINE!”

“As it should have been. I mean, it’s kind of useless, much like you are. But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? Did he give you a good deal on it? Surprisingly, the franchise did do well even though I thought it had been pointless child’s play.”

I can’t help it, I explode. “Well your pointless child’s play gave me a profit of ten grand. And after Brian comes to his fucking senses, there’s bound to be more money coming my way. How much has your pointless marriage gotten you?!” Fuck! I hadn’t meant to say all that but she really pisses me off, putting down MY comic! Who does she think she is?!

“Ten thousand, you say? As in dollars?”

“No, in fucking toenails. Of course I mean dollars!”

“Well that’s great, Michael. I mean, now we can find a place to share until you get the house in the divorce settlement, and then we can share that. By then, of course, we’ll be back in Brian’s good graces. And then, Justin…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s all this ‘we’ stuff?”

“Oh come on, Michael. You wouldn’t want to see me homeless, would you?” She turns on a look that I’ve seen her give Brian a million times. It always got him to do what she wanted. It’s a cross between the fucking Madonna, and school marm look, and makes me feel about five years old when she looks down her long nose at me. I can’t help but squirm under her gaze. “Besides, it will give us a bit of privacy to plan our next move.”

“My next move is finding ME a job. I would suggest you do the same, Lindsay, since you certainly will not be staying with me indefinitely, or for free.”

“But Michael…”

“No, Lindsay. Justin said that this is a settlement amount.”

“Well with the franchise worth as much as it is, why did you settle for ten thousand? You should have demanded more money.”

Although I know she’s right, I can’t tell her that if I fought Justin on this, I could have not only lost my business, my husband, and my house, but my freedom as well. The thought of going to jail for embezzlement is not appealing at all. I did some research before I arrived at the bank- meaning I asked Tony the bartender at Woody’s who used to be a cop until he got hurt on the job- and found out that I could have been facing four to six years in jail if Justin decided to press charges. He said I was smart to take the deal Boy Wonder offered, as opposed to forcing him to do what he really should have. I didn’t know at the time if he was insulting me, but it sounded an awful lot like he admired the way Justin was handling this situation. But I can’t tell Lindsay any of this. I refuse to give her anything else to hang over my head.

“Be that as it may, Lindsay, I am in dire straits right now and didn’t have the room to negotiate. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find someplace for ME to rest my head tonight. I don’t think a park bench is the ideal place for that to happen,” I say, picking up my bags and Captain Astro cutout, and begin to move away from her when she calls me again.

“Michael…”

“What, Lindsay? WHAT?” I stop and turn around. Seeing the pitiful look on her face, I can feel my resolve to leave her on her own weakening. “Look, why don’t you call your parents or something? Don’t they have real estate or something they will let you stay in until you find a place?”

“I can’t. They’re out of town, and even if they weren’t, Mel told them why she and I are separated. I’m not sure they will let me stay with them under those circumstances.”

“Yeah, well that was bitchy of her.” I sigh, as once again, Boy Wonder’s annoying voice invades my mind. “Well come on then. We need to find someplace relatively close to here.”

“And it needs to be a two bedroom,” she insists.

“I was thinking you could sleep on the couch until you can make other arrangements.”

“Michael, I’m a woman. I need my privacy. You wouldn’t want to see my personals spread around now would you?” She wheedles.

Unfortunately, she has a point. Just the thought of possibly catching a money shot is enough to turn my stomach. The fact that it would be Lindsay’s has the bile that’s boiling within my gallbladder trying to chase its way up my throat. I have fucking Ben to thank for that disgusting reference; he always knows useless shit like that. “Fine, a two bedroom. I should be able to downgrade after you leave.”

After an hour of searching, we finally decided to settle for an apartment on Dash Avenue. Even though it can be rented on a week-to-week basis, I figured I’d rent it for two months. Sure it cost about a grand, but all of the utilities, cable, and wi-fi were included in the price. Without having to worry about those things, I figured this buys us some time to make Brian see reason without having to forego the creature comforts that Ben always made sure I had. The only problem is that it’s a bit of a distance from Liberty Avenue, but at least it’s on the other side of the downtown area where the competition is going to be held. It should keep Her Fucking Highness from asking me for travel fare. It’s already enough that I’m letting her stay with me for the time being, and that she talked me into buying her some art supplies. The kit she just insisted she needed cost me about five hundred dollars! But at least she’s taking care of the groceries, wine, and beer for the next two weeks, so it should even out.

I asked her about being able to contribute, and she finally let out that Brian and Mel had blocked her access to their accounts. Well that’s just fucked. All I know is that she better win this fucking competition, or at the very least, keep Justin from winning it as we agreed. He needs to get his ass back to New York permanently. Only then will things have a chance of getting back to normal, and make my best friend remember who he is and what he is to us.

I’m setting up the new laptop I bought when she calls out of her room, “Michael, I have to be back at the competition within an hour. Can you iron my shirt?”

Oh HELL NO! We will NOT be starting this shit! “No, I will not iron your fucking shirt. Mr. Belvedere does not live here, Lindsay. I rarely even do that to my own clothes, so yours are out of the question. I’m already giving you a temporary place to sleep. Why don’t you turn on the shower or something and let the steam get the wrinkles out.”

“Alright, Michael. You don’t have to be so touchy.” She comes out of her room bare-chested, and I want to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon. Talk about having poached eggs for tits! Their all pasty, looking like she caked them with powder or better yet some fucking Elmer’s Glue. YUCK!

“Oh my God, can you cover up?!”

“What? They’re just breasts, Michael.”

“Well yours are disgusting! They look like globs of vaseline!” I shiver as she pulls the t-shirt over her head. Thank God!

“And you would know all about Vaseline, wouldn’t you?” she mutters.

“I heard that, Lindsay.” I clear my throat, tasting the chocolate milk from this morning trying to repeat on me. And really did I have to think about fucking milk just now?! I scrunch my face, wishing my mind would stop tormenting me with horrifying images of Lindsay being milked, and take a deep breath again in an effort to stop the BLECH my throat wants to let out. Once I have myself back under some semblance of control, I say, “Anyway, I thought you weren’t due back there until tomorrow.”

“Technically that’s true, but the actual artists are going to be there this afternoon. I want to get a good look at them to see how they interact with Justin.”

“Why does that matter now?” I ask. “From what I read on that paper, you have to go through a series of rounds.”

She sighs that fucking put-upon sigh she does that I hate, and says patronizingly, “Michael, haven’t you ever heard of the saying to be forewarned is to be forearmed?”

“Of course, I’ve heard of that!” I lie. To me, that makes no sense at all.

“Well then you know that when going into war, it’s better to know the lay of the land. I have to get a clear picture of the contestants and their individual talents. It’s one thing for them to hate Justin, but another thing altogether to actually have the talent to beat him. Whether you want to admit it or not, Justin has the artistic ability to win this competition. He wasn’t asked to compete just based on illustrating that cursed comic. You should type in his name, and see for yourself.”

As much as I’m loathe to do it, I take her advice. To say that I am surprised at the amount of information that comes up is an understatement. There are loads of paintings, none of which has sold under five figures since he before he left for New York. But what really surprises me is that he founded a company creating well-known logos for companies while he was supposed to be working on the movie in L.A. That was NOT what he was sent there to do! If he had concentrated ALL his efforts on Rage, the movie would have been made. “Fucking little bastard!”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“He was supposed to be working on the movie, and instead he was working on his formulating his own business! He owes me his share of that money!”

Lindsay snickers. “No, he doesn’t, Michael. He earned his pay from the studios directly. In fact, if truth be told, you should have paid him your share. But that’s beside the point. The point is that while you thought all Justin had going for him was the comic, he was actually making a name for himself as he should have been doing from the beginning.”

“Well I discovered him and introduced him to Brett Keller! I should get a finder’s fee or something.”

She laughs outright then. “No. If anyone between the two of us is entitled to say they discovered Justin, it would be me. I’m the first one he drew for; I’m the one that encouraged him to pursue his art after the bashing; I’m the one that encouraged him to attend PIFA, and to show his work at the Bloom Gallery, and I arranged for him to have an entry into the New York Art scene.”

“And yet, he’s got Miranda…” I remind her smugly. No way was I going to let her lord all of that over me.

“Not for long!” she snaps, and it’s my turn to laugh.

“Lindsay, he’s not going to get rid of her in favor of you. You haven’t done anything worth mentioning. And no, giving birth to Gus or being successful in REVERSE doesn’t count. Because of her support, Boy Wonder’s paintings are garnering just shy of six figures. Miranda Charles’ bio is listed here too, and let me tell you that she has represented some big names in the business, as well as acting as an agent for some well known actors and actresses. Did you know she also has a degree in Entertainment Law? So what have you done?” I just love it when I can shut her up.

She sulks as she slams the iron back down on the ironing board, flipping her blouse viciously before applying the appliance to it again. She frustratedly sighs, “Michael…”, but I cut her off with the words I know she always longs to hear.

“Looks like you were right, Lindsay.”

“About what?”

“Well, Justin’s company, JTDesigns, is worth over a quarter of a million dollars. I should have demanded more money. And it looks like he has six shows lined up for the remainder of this year and into February of the next.”

“Then he shouldn’t be here playing with paints, now should he?” she sneers.

“Be that as it may, it’s where he is. So what’s big your plan?” I ask, bringing her back into focus.

“Although I have some thoughts, I won’t really know until I see what I’m working with. Like I said, it’s one thing to dislike Justin as a person, but another thing to hold his work in high regard. I’ll need someone who’s as determined as I am to knock him off the pedestal everyone is putting him on.”

“I thought the idea was to keep him as the ‘Darling’ of the art world?”

“Sure it is, but first he needs to remember just who he owes his career to. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t even be drawing right now.”

“Don’t you mean Brian and Jennifer? At least, that’s who he’s crediting here.”

“What?”

“Yes, it’s right here at the end of his biography where it talks about Justin’s journey from tragically wounded teen to Artiste Extraordinaire.” I roll my eyes. Give me a fucking break already! “They asked him who his inspiration was and what drove him to endure the various treatments and therapies in order to live fully and create again. His answer was that while his mother loved him through it all, it was Brian who not only loved him and helped him resume his life, but also helped with the therapy and refused to let him give up on himself.”

“What a load of horseshit!” She screams. “Brian may have paid for the therapy, but no way would he actually help.”

“Maybe all the times he jerked Brian off could be looked at as therapy,” I snicker, and look over to Lindsay. She’s not laughing, but rather looks like she’s about to go nuclear.

“That’s not funny, Michael! I’m the one who helped him, who took him to see my friend who was in a lot worse condition but was still creating, and yet he gives Brian the credit for his recovery?!”

“Yeah, well…”

“Yeah, well NOTHING, Michael! I deserve the credit for Justin becoming the artist he is!”

“Well he’s not going to give you any, Lindsay. You need to let that shit go.”

“I WILL NOT LET IT GO! HE OWES ME HIS CAREER!”

“Jesus, calm the fuck down already! And stop waving the damn iron around before you burn something else other than your shirt.”

“Shit! Now look what you made me do!” She yells at me.

“I’m not the one standing there with a hot iron!” I fire back. “Now look, you have to concentrate…”

“Oh I am, Michael, believe me. Justin WILL give me my recognition even if I…” she trails off, and I can see the wheels turning in her head once again. I’m not sure what that small smirk is about, but it’s creeping me the fuck out.

“Even if you what, Lindsay?”

She shakes herself and levels me with a bright smile as if she didn’t just dip her toes into Psycho Broad territory. “Oh nothing, Michael. Just a bit of wishful thinking on my part.” She looks down at her ruined shirt. “I guess I will have to go in this tee since I don’t have time to iron another shirt.”

I nod, warily. “Yeah, you should be fine in that for the night. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to be on television tonight or anything, right?”

“Right, right…” Lindsay says as she looks into the mirror on the wall of the living room, correcting her makeup which had smeared a little. “Well that’s about all I can do to make myself presentable for now. I don’t know what time I’ll be back.” She comes over to me with her hand out.

I look up from my seat on the couch a bit puzzled. “What do you want? I already gave you your key.”

She smiles. “Silly, Michael,” she giggles jokingly, but I don’t see a damn thing funny right now. “I need some money to grab something to eat while I’m out.”

“There’s an ATM in the lobby.”

“I think I may have overspent a little on getting food for this place this afternoon. I haven't had the time to reconcile my checkbook yet. Besides, chances are that I will be too tired to come back and cook, especially since I have to be at the competition by eight in the morning. So, how about a loan between friends, huh? I promise I’ll pay you back when I win.”

I stare at her for a few moments, before reaching into my pocket. “Here’s twenty dollars. Bring back my change! I’m not fucking around, Lindsay. I have to make this money last for awhile… at least until Brian agrees to help me out with my expenses, or until I can find a job.” She hurriedly takes the money from my fingers, and stuffs it into her pocket.

“Well, the Big Q is hiring again, so maybe try your luck there. I mean, at least the work doesn’t require all that much thought, and you don’t need a college degree, which yeah… so not happening. On the plus side, the pay is steady. You should give it some serious thought, since it was right up your alley before.”

“What do you mean by that?” I think there was an insult in there somewhere, but I can’t quite figure out where.

“Just that everyone has their place, Michael. Justin is about to relearn his, and yours seems to be at the Big Q. I suppose you could try for the manager position at a fast food restaurant, but I think you have to start on fries first and work your way up from there. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, Michael, after all you can only do what you can do, right? See you later.” She snickers even as grabs her keys, and heads out the door.

I have a feeling that the relationship between Lindsay and Justin is about to rival that of Dina and Lindsay Lohan. But would that cast me in the role of Lindsay's- I mean Justin's- father in this scenario? It's no secret that he tried to profit from his association with his daughter; somehow, I don't see Craig Taylor not trying the same trick. But if someone was to spill the story of their rocky relationship tot the public first... Hmm... I wonder if there is a way for me to capitalize on my own former association with Justin. I mean I know what the contract says and all, but maybe there's a loophole he didn't... Wait just a fucking minute! Did that bitch just call me stupid?

CHAPTER 11:  DON’T LOOK DOWN, LOOK RIGHT HERE

BRIAN:

Once again, I can’t help but marvel at Justin. Watching him work the crowd in his capacity as co-CEO of Kinnetik JTD, is simply amazing. He manages to speak attentively to everyone- artists and executive alike- without breaking a sweat. One would never guess that he absolutely hates this part of the business. Hell, if it was up to Justin, I would be doing all the schmoozing. But like it or not, he was born to do this, and while Ted and I are talking figures with Emmett to continually provide sustenance for the competition, I’m happy to leave him to it. I feel a tap on my shoulder, so I turn to see exactly who is interrupting me during a business meeting.

“Brian, a word?” Miranda asks, and I can tell from her agitated state, it can’t be good news. I excuse myself from Emmett, Ted, and Em’s assistant, Darren to find out what has Justin’s normally unflappable agent almost ready to pull her hair out… or perhaps someone else’s? That thought is confirmed with her next words. “The harridan harlot is here, skulking about by the potted plant in the corner.”

I glance surreptitiously behind me, seeming to check on where Justin is now entertaining. I turn back to Miranda, who is doing an admirable job of schooling her features back to impassivity. “Lindsay is doing a poor job of hiding herself, but perhaps that’s what she wants.”

“She’s not even supposed to be here.”

“I know that, as do you. I’m sure she’s also aware that she shouldn’t be here, but if we oust her now, we give her what she wants.”

“But so does letting her be here,” she sighs. “Undoubtedly, she’s looking for allies to sabotage Justin’s chances of winning.”

“Of course, but she’s going to find the pool limited to just one or two at the most.” I think about the conversation between Connor, Brett, and Justin earlier. “Justin is already expecting Lindsay to join up with Stacy Peete.”

“Seems the most logical, but artists are a fickle lot, as I’m sure you’re well aware having lived with Justin for a number of years. A friend right now can turn into an enemy the next second.”

“True, but there’s no way to prevent that. All we can do is take certain precautions ahead of time.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“Give me a moment to think about it, Miranda,” I advise, thinking of all the things I would do if I was going to get revenge on someone. Then I contemplate all the possible angles I would use if I wanted to make someone’s life hell while we’re working on a project of some sort. Then I erase all of that, and contemplate what I know about Justin.The truth is that no one would ever see an attack from my young blond coming, but he would see theirs coming from a mile away. I smile “We add to and spell out the basic rules of the competition, specifying that ANYONE seeking to flout them, including sabotage, will immediately be disqualified. That will reduce the number of Lindsay’s accomplices greatly.”

“How do you figure?”

“Not many would be willing to risk the possibility of getting caught. This competition in and of itself is a game changer. In addition to that, Justin is looking for potential employees for the Kell-Jam account we just acquired this afternoon.”

“Justin’s moving to L.A.?”

I smile at her. “No. Brett and Connor saw the wisdom in Justin’s plan of broadening their talent pool out of Hollywood. If the work is done here, there’s no chance of a leak or sabotage from the bigger production companies.”

“That’s… that’s fucking genius!”

“That’s Justin. The lad is a fucking whiz at backdoor strategies and sneak attacks. That’s why I suggested specifying the rules in a very clear cut fashion so that no one has the excuse that they didn’t know them when they’re caught.”

“And if Justin retaliates? You don’t think he’ll plead the same thing?”

“No. If there is one thing I know about Justin it’s that he owns his shit. Not only that, but people may suspect all they would like, but they still would have to prove that Justin had something to do with their misfortune. The funny thing about it is that they would be totally wrong since Justin prefers to do things out in the open. He’ll let his work speak for him, which is the fundamental difference between him and Lindsay. Unlike her and whomever else she would have indoctrinated into her ‘Anti-Justin Club of Failures’, he won’t do anything to their paint, or other art supplies; he’ll just embarrass and expose them in such a way where the public will see who the real culprits are.”

“I get what you are saying, Brian, but I really want to kick her ass out of here. Well, the truth is I want to drop kick her into oncoming traffic, but I don’t look good in orange so I’ll settle for having security deal with her.”

“I get it; I truly do. But… tell you what. Let’s wait until after the rules are read aloud. Plus let’s not forget that the press is here since this is a major event. I’m sure Lindsay will be unable to keep from making a spectacle of herself at some point. It’s one way to ensure that she doesn’t have to go through the whole process of being selected for the competition the way the others will have to. I already know that Justin has opted not to work with any outside people, but is going to stick with his normal staff.”

She nods. “He told me as much last night before we left the Meet and Greet. Have you ever met his assistant, Cheryl?”

“No, but he did mention her last night while talking to Brett and Connor. I didn’t know she was his bonafide assistant,” I tell her.

“She’s a makeup artist and model in her own right, which is probably why he didn’t mention her. Her specialty is Sci-Fi makeup, and she’s like a Cynthia for Justin when he’s in artist mode. She understands that and him in a way few others ever would without him spelling out his directives line by line to them. So she’s the ideal person to assist Justin during this competition. Also, Cheryl was the person he used when he did the DynoDyke edition of Rage.”

“Really? I just thought he’d drawn Mel from memory.”

“Mostly, but honestly, if we all didn’t know better, we could easily believe they were related. She’s a more voluptuous edition of Melanie Marcus.”

“If she’s a dyke, too, that could spell trouble.”

Miranda smiles slyly, before answering. “I can attest that she is, and she’s also well spoken for.”

I look at her, then lower my head to stare at her a little closer. “I thought you were straight.”

“Many do, but I’m actually bi. Cheryl is the reason I broke up with my last boyfriend. She’s like the perfect combination of Leda and Melanie, with a little bit of Justin mixed in. How could anyone have resisted?”

I can’t argue with her there. “Well if it’s any consolation, I hope things work out for the two of you. I know what my life would have amounted to without Justin in it, and I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone… well, except for perhaps Lindsay and Michael at this moment.”

“How are you doing about that, by the way?” she asks me.

I decide to be honest with Miranda. She has this way about her where talking to her doesn’t feel like she’s trying to psychoanalyze me, but is genuinely concerned about my wellbeing. “Ironically, I’m okay with the way things turned out. I mean, it’s hard to lose a twenty year friendship… or what I thought was a friendship anyway. In a way, it feels freeing, the way it did when I stopped feeling responsible for my mother and sister’s fucked up lives.”

“I know the feeling. It’s the exact same way I felt when I stopped doing what was expected of me by my parents and began to live the way I wanted to. Having the scholarships to college, and then getting a lucrative position within a gallery so that I could attend law school under my own steam helped tremendously. They can never say that they paid for my career…”

“The way Lindsay is trying to do with Justin’s, you mean?”

“Exactly. Did you know that she actually had the audacity to say I should listen to her about Justin since she was instrumental in getting him back to drawing after the incident?”

“I hope you didn’t mention that to Justin. He’s still quite volatile where she’s concerned.”

“I am many things, but a fool isn’t among them, Brian,” she tells me. “I learned early on just what Lindsay believes her role within the scope of Justin’s life is. He told me to never trust her, which at first struck me as strange. At least it did until I began to watch the way she operates in reference to Justin. Stage mother doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I nod, understanding exactly what she means. “This is about more than living vicariously through his art achievements. It’s about the thing that Lindsay craves above all else.”

“What’s that?”

“Control,” I answer, just as RuPaul calls for the artists and judges to go to the long table at the front of the room.

The way we decided to set it up is that each judge who is representing an artist, or a group of them, would sit with the contestant. Some have as many as five contestants, while others represent the contestants in teams. Miranda and Justin are seated in the middle of the table next to Connor and Brett, who are the major sponsors of the event. Justin seems so at ease with them, and it’s hard not to be a little anxious about it. I mean, he has an entirely different history with those two men, than the one he has with me. But when he meets my eyes from across the room that little bit of residual jealousy dissipates. Justin is MINE, and has always been. That knowledge goes a long way in setting my fears that maybe Lindsay was right about me letting him go at ease.

Which brings me to why she would really think she should be listened to at all. I didn’t lie earlier when I told Justin exactly what her motives in all of this are. She figures that if she can control Justin as the darling of the art world, and somehow use me to keep him baited on her hook by using Gus, then she would have a shot of keeping me from him. It’s obvious that she doesn’t know Justin very well at all. There’s no way he would just let me slink off into obscurity in exchange for his success. He would have found a way to get to me, no matter what she tried. And I’m so thankful for that. Even though the separations were hard, just knowing that at the end of it we were still connected meant more than any of the meaningless platitudes both Lindsay and Michael have uttered over the years. We are NOT about to become the pawns she wants us to be in her game of one-up she always wants to play with Nancy and Lynette. The smirk currently on Justin’s lips tells me that he agrees with me wholeheartedly.

Before the question and answer period began, Brett and Connor, along with RuPaul, explained how the competition came about and the prizes involved. According to them, this isn’t simply a competition for the title Winner of Celebrity Skin Wars, but a way to bring awareness to the competitive field of becoming an artist within the motion picture industry. “Because many of these artists work in genres such as the Fine Arts sector, it’s also a way to get them some much deserved exposure. This is about so much more than a title and money, ladies and gentlemen. This is about achievement and recognition, which many artists don’t receive while they are still alive and able to enjoy the benefit of their endeavors,” Brett tells them.

RuPaul chimes in then. “There’s an old song whose lyric goes, ‘Give me my flowers, while I may yet smell them.’ This is our way of being able to do that for these most deserving people. Our artists are some of the hardest working people in the business; they work at designing sets and creating out-of-this-world concepts in order to entertain the masses. Yet they don’t get the public awards and accolades that the actors, actresses, project directors, and special effects directors receive. It’s the same for the costume designers and those who work in hair and makeup. Sometimes they are on set from sunrise to sunset, and in many cases, even beyond that. So this is our way of giving them a platform to show what they are really made of; to show their talents on a global scale.”

“I will not lie, ladies and gentlemen. The competition is going to be grueling,” Connor added. “Each of the participants are taking time off from their busy schedules to devote to this. Yes, there is an amazing prize of one hundred grand, as well as being the next full-time judge and being the lead artist for Kell-Jam Studios, but there are so many more benefits which aren’t as tangible. Right now, several of them are on hiatus from the current projects they are working on, and instead of resting what are they doing? Participating in the Celebrity Edition of Skin Wars. When asked why they readily accepted the invitation instead of being off somewhere soaking up the sun, some, if not all, declared that even if they were, they would still be drawing. In many respects, it’s like breathing, which is something they can’t NOT do if they want to live. That said, the competition itself is going to be four weeks in a very fast paced, and stimulating environment. They are going to learn from each other, but most of all, they are going to recharge their creative batteries in the process. I know that as an actor, people-watching is a hobby, but it’s also how I draw inspiration to do my very best on my projects. Artists of this caliber are no different.”

“Earlier today, you all decided to open the competition up to the general public of Pittsburgh. Can you tell us a little about that?” The reporter, Janet Meadows asks. I know her from one of the news magazines Justin’s watched for years. She’s been following his career closely since the GLC show several years ago.

Brett answers her question. “One of our invited contestants became ill last night, and had to have emergency surgery. Ivan Middleton is absolutely one of the best there is, and it would have been an honor watching him compete. In honor of how he got discovered in his hometown of Peoria, Illinois during a fair, we decided to hold a contests among the local community here to fill his enormous shoes. The winners will be given an opportunity to compete with the Elite artists up here. At the very least, it will give them the exposure that it would have taken them years to achieve on their own, no matter what medium they work in.”

“Is this being privately funded, or a public venture?”

“We contracted with each studio who the artists represents, as well as Kinnetik JTD, which is a local business, to fund this endeavor. Also with the backing of the GSN Network and Arts and Entertainment Television, who are airing the competition- both in real time and in syndicate- the artists will not lack for supplies, models, or anything else they will need to do their very best work."

The q & a of the contestants and judges began in earnest then. The overall excitement is absolutely palpable in the room as there is much laughter among each of them. I’m just standing back here, enjoying the obvious camaraderie amongst many of them, while keeping my eyes on Justin. He’s glowing in happiness. It’s still shocking to realize that Justin is considered one of the elite in his own right. I’m reminded of Lindsay’s dire predictions all over again, and it’s taking everything in me not to do a victory dance worthy of a football game. But I don’t do that. It’s going to be enough for me to watch her fail, and fall hard from the pedestal she’s placed herself on as ‘All-Knowing Asshole’ that she’s become. Looking back on all of it, Mother Taylor had Lindsay all figured out. And whereas I’m sorry that it took me so long to do it on my own, I’m ecstatic that not only is Justin about to prove her all sorts of wrong, but I am too.  

“So Justin, how does it feel to be included among those you’ve considered idols while you were still in high school?” Janet asks him.

“Pretty freaking amazing, Janet. I’ve spent so many years admiring their work. In fact, James Mason at the end of the row was one of the artist’s assistants on one of my favorite movies, “Yellow Submarine”. That was the movie that originally got me interested in animation.”

“I hate to bring this up, but many of us are still quite fascinated about your personal journey from being grievously injured in your late teens to becoming one of the most notable artists in this competition at almost twenty-four years old. You’ve come quite a long way from your first venture in Hollywood some years ago. I know that you’ve addressed it quite a bit in your professional career, but to whom do you attribute your success in such a short time?”

“As stated, my mother loved me all throughout my recovery and beyond, but it was Brian who actually helped me.”

“Brian? You’re talking about Brian Kinney?”

“Yes, but there’s been a name change since the last time you interviewed me. Brian and I have been legal domestic partners since before I made my initial sojourn to New York. So whereas I still use Taylor for my Fine Arts work, he and I are known as the Taylor-Kinneys.”

The room erupts in applause, even as cameras turn towards me, snapping pictures while I smile at him. Out of the corner of my left eye, I see Lindsay bristling in the corner. I don’t think she wanted this particular news to become public knowledge. Well that’s just too bad! This is mine and Justin’s life, and now it’s officially joined publicly.

“Brian, how are you liking married life so far?”

“More than could be put into words, but I’ll be sure to show Justin later, Janet,” I answer, leaving no doubt as to how I will.

“Damn! What I wouldn’t give for a floor show right now,” One of the agents, Sean David announces, much to the agreement and laughter of everyone else, except for Justin’s nemesis.

Stacy Peete is scowling again, but I’m almost convinced that it’s her permanent look instead of it conveying whatever emotion she’s trying to convey. Either she should lay off the Botox or learn to check her feelings, at least where every eye can be drawn to her at any given time. Sure her jealousy is evident, but of what exactly? Justin’s talent, the fact that he has just about everyone in the room eating the charm out the palm of his hand, or is it the fact that Justin was asked to be here and she was just a replacement. Of course, those are just some of the questions the press could ask, but I suspect that her current bitchiness is because it’s officially been announced that Justin and I are irrevocably together, and therefore her hitting on me again would make her look stupid. Well she already looks like an ass, but the cameras weren’t rolling when she was shot down in flames yesterday.

As for Lindsay, of course she looks as if she’s about to erupt. And sure enough, Mount Dumbass Lindz just couldn’t keep her lying lava to herself. “Excuse me, but Justin how can say that it’s Brian who helped you?! You wouldn’t even be an artist if it wasn’t for me, since I’m the one who took you to see my friend, who continues to have shows regardless of her limitations!”

Justin smirks at Lindsay in response, and even before he says anything, I know- absolutely KNOW- that Sunshine just fired a return volley from Lindsay’s antics of last night. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Lindsay Peterson, the woman who would have made a wonderful stage mother along the lines of Mommy Dearest. Somehow she forgets that I have ALWAYS been an artist, even before the insignificant role she’s tried to play in my life. However, in reference to her question, yes, Lindsay, you took me to see your friend Adrienne Bennett, who is a phenomenal artist despite the fact she’s a quadriplegic. I still visit her from time to time, but it’s funny, I haven’t seen you there during any of those times.”

“I… I…” Lindsay stammers.

“In fact, Adrienne is scheduled to be a guest judge during the competition once she’s back from her show in France at the end of next week. But back to your question- or should we call it a very false implication?- Lindsay, whereas you introduced me to that wonderful awe-inspiring woman, it was Brian who took me to therapy and bought me a computer to use for my hand during my recovery. He also keeps it updated with the latest software for when I need it.”

“Oh? Do you still have problems with your hand?” she asks, barely masking the glee-filled condescension from her voice.

Justin smirks at her in kind. “You’ll never know. And even if you did, it still wouldn’t change the fact that BRIAN is the person who I accredit ALL of my progress to. He’s an amazing man, lover, and husband, and someone who you will never know the way I do. Get used to it.”

Miranda interrupts the staring contest- one of anger and contempt on Lindsay’s part and of surety and calmness on Justin’s- to make a public suggestion. “Since Ms. Peterson has deemed it important to make a spectacle of herself in this very public forum and seems to have convinced herself that she’s the reason my client is an artist, I say we add her to the roster.”

“Wait! I thought I was supposed to compete with the other locals?” Lindsay backtracks.

“Yes, that is supposed to be the case. But I mean, well if you are in here within this closed press conference, then you must be an artist of some note, correct?”

Lindsay narrows her eyes at Miranda, and I want to laugh so loud and long right now. They have set her up in such a way where Lindsay’s choice is going to embarrass her either way. Either she admits that she snuck in, which means she would be automatically disqualified, or she ventures across the gauntlet Justin and Miranda just placed before her.

“Not exactly, but…”

“No buts, Lindsay. Are you or aren’t you an artist?” Miranda asks, a little more forcefully and using a tone that Justin and I know she’ll take offense to. Justin has certainly taught her how to manage Ms. Peterson well.

“I am.”

“Great. Then I make a motion for you to join the competition as a single artist…”

“But I thought I would be paired with another, more experienced contestant!”

“No. That is only for the amateurs, who will be competing in pairs for a spot in this elite competition. But you’ve already stated that you are an artist of some note, and therefore qualified to compete as a solo artist within this competition. Right?”

Damn! Miranda must be killer in courtrooms, and at meetings. She’s leading Lindsay to the slaughter, using the bitch’s own pride as the leash. Mel comes to stand beside me, nearly in tears with laughter. “Miranda just became my idol,” she whispers.

“Mine, too. If you’re even one-tenth as ruthless as she is, the entertainment industry is in trouble as a whole.” I chuckle.

“One can only hope.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, Mel. Justin seems to think you’re an amazing lawyer.”

“And you? What do you think?”

“I don’t back idiots,” I answer her, automatically knowing that she got the message. Tuning back into the conversation, Mel and I once again hold in our collective laughter at Lindsay’s methods of passive-aggressivity being used on her, instead of the other way around.

“So Lindsay, what’s it going to be? I know which choice I would choose if I was in your position,” Miranda advises.

“And that would be?” Lindsay sneers in her direction.

“To do the right thing- the wise thing- in order to keep my pride, and standing such as it is within the Art community.”

“Fine, in that case, I’ll compete!”

“You’re sure? I mean, the stakes are a bit astronomical for you, aren’t they? Not only that, but you also have to pick your own models and assistants, which if you were who you’re trying to convince us you are right now, you would have had the opportunity to do that last night at the Meet and Greet. Is there any specific reason you weren’t in attendance?”

“I wasn’t invited,” Lindsay mumbles.

“Care to repeat that louder for the reporters?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lindsay deflects. “As for this competition, I would like a side wager with you and your client, if I may.”

“You can present the terms, but I still reserve the right to deny them in the best interest of my client. Proceed, Ms. Peterson,” Miranda says with the imperious tone of a queen.

“I want Justin to do the shows I’ve lined up for him with some influential friends I have within the art community, and I would like the opportunity to take over as his booking agent, if I do better in the competition than he thinks,” Lindsay demands.

“No,” Justin says immediately.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Just what I said, Lindsay. You will NOT be given an opportunity to play with my career, and most certainly not my life the way you seem to do with your own.”

“Aww, what’s the matter, Justin? Scared that I will win this wager?”

“Not at all. I’d be amazed if you made it to fourth place, and you should feel mightily accomplished if you do. But my reasoning is simple. I don’t want anything to do with you at all, so it wouldn’t make for a very conducive working environment. Besides we all know what your real aim is, although we’ll leave the others to speculate. The answer is no, and that’s final.”  

“However, I do have a counteroffer for you, Lindsay,” Miranda speaks up. “If you should at least make it to fourth place, I’ll get you a job in a gallery doing what you do best, which is selling art, NOT creating it.”

“I don’t need your handout!” Lindsay yells.

“Actually, you will. Since after you compete I’m fairly certain that no one would willingly be associated with you within fine art circles. No one likes their names attached to personifications of failure.”

“I WILL NOT FAIL!”

“You already have, but I’ll let you find that out for yourself. In the meantime, you will leave all manner of Justin’s business alone, or you’re automatically disqualified from the competition. That includes ANY and ALL parts of his and Brian’s lives- both together and separately. Do we have a deal?” Miranda asks, unbothered one way or the other by her answer.

I could see Lindsay thinking about it… HARD. Sure the arrangement still won’t stop her machinations, but if she’s caught, she’s fucked. And honestly, she is anyway, once she receives the packet Deb will have waiting for her from my attorney. Jeff was all too joyous to do what I asked. I’m sure that once Lindsay opens it to find the order for supervised visitation for both kids, and a check for two-hundred and fifty-three dollars that Mel included, which is all the money Lindsay was due for the security deposit for their lodgings in Canada, she’s sure to fly off the handle. In addition to that bad news for Lindsay, there will be some for Michael as well, since the announcements will be in the paper that all of the Tremont lofts are being short-termed leased, as well as the official sale of Ben’s house being listed under Kinnetik Real Estate with Jennifer as the broker on file. We decided to give Ben a short sale, since he was able to provide all of the information about any maintenance he had done on the house, including the new roof put on just before he bought it. As a result, he now owns one of the lofts free and clear, with a nice profit as a cushion in the bank. I don’t expect Michael to leave his bed for at least two days following that bit of news.

The only troubling thing is that Lindsay will still enlist help from all corners, both here and from the outside where Michael is concerned. But that’s okay, since there are repercussions for anyone they think they can use to get to me and Justin. Justin and I have already been over a list of overt people she could contact to try making our lives a living hell, but so far we were only able to think of Craig. If he’s smart, he’ll continue to stay clear of Justin for awhile. Thankfully, Lindsay hasn’t come for me and Mel though. But if she had, her humiliation would have been even more absolute. I think she will be surprised if she tries to get Joan and Claire to reason with me in her stead. After the last argument I had with them, I’m pretty sure they won’t even dare to darken my door again. But if they do, there will be police waiting for them. Although I didn’t file charges, I did make the police aware of my mother’s violent nature when she slapped me for the last time because I wouldn’t get Claire and her spawns out of their latest mess. Last I heard, Claire and her sons moved back in with Mother, and she’s working two jobs to keep Joan in sherry with a roof over their heads. It might seem mean of me, but I refuse to keep supporting my abusers no matter who they are.

“Fine! We do,” she says, resignedly.

“Good, and now for the rules…” RuPaul announces, as each contestant and Lindsay listens attentively.

CHAPTER 12: A DANCE OF VICTORY… and THE AGONY OF DEFEAT or SHOULD THAT BE OF A FOOT?

ON THE WAY TO BABYLON

BRIAN:

I figured that since Justin and I were already downtown this evening, we might as well check on things at the Club. Brett, Connor, and Ru decided to tag along in the company of Emmett and Ted, who were coming anyway. Strangely, that doesn’t bother me as much as who else is coming along. Miranda, Melanie, and Leda. WHY?! I mean, it would be different if it was Dyke Night, but it’s not. I shake my head in consternation and bewilderment, listening to the conversations happening between Justin and the other passengers in other cars as I weave in and out of traffic through the streets of Pittsburgh. It’s times like this I wish three-way calling was never invented.

“The good thing is that Drag Show is happening in one of the upper halls tonight so there will be plenty for everyone to get into if the Club atmosphere is not something they’re into,” Justin, junior party-planner extraordinaire, tells Emmett.

“True. I would imagine that RuPaul, particularly, will be interested in that. I hear he’s always looking for talent for the show. Too bad Divina is too old to compete, but maybe she’ll be alright as a guest judge.”

“Sure, Em. I mean with 150 years of experience, how could he NOT want to dress in drag and judge the wannabes?” I couldn’t help but ask, sarcastically.

“Brian…”

“Hey, you can’t blame me, Sunshine. The two of you are acting like this excursion to Babylon is a fucking pleasure cruise.”

“What’s the matter, Kinney? Feeling cranky because you’re not getting enough fiber in your diet?” Melanie’s voice comes over the line, laughter edging her voice.

“No, Smelly Melly, but then you should recognize the signs since you’re always full of shit.”

“Now children, can the inappropriate humor, would you?” Emmett says, assuming the role of referee. “What’s really your damage, Brian?”

I have to think about that for a moment, before answering. I can feel Justin’s eyes beaming into the side of my skull, and know already that he’s kind of figured it out. So I decide to be as honest as I can be in this moment. “I’m just a bit annoyed. Lindsay…”

“Is going to fail as per usual, Brian,” Justin reassures me.

“That may be true, Sunshine, but I still don’t like the shit she’s pulling.”

“Hey, if I have to ignore her then so do you, Brian. We have businesses to run, contracts to complete, and work to begin, along with me having to deal with this competition. Lindsay’s attention-seeking stunts are not something we have to deal with directly. She’ll either burn out, or crash and burn. You can’t save her from herself. It’s something you should have realized by now.”

I sigh. “I’m not trying to save her, Sunshine. I just want her to stop.”

“You and I both, Brian,” Melanie says wearily over the phone. “But we both also know she isn’t going to. So I say we enjoy the free entertainment while we do what we have to do in order to protect our businesses, and Justin.”

“So basically, there’s nothing we can do?”

“Not a thing that won’t make us look like the bad guys.”

“But I’ve always liked being known as the bad guy. It means I don’t have to respect any boundaries.”

“You know, Brian, you just did a remarkable impression of Michael there,” Mel snickers, and I gasp.

“Eww, you’re right, Mel,” Justin joins in. “Brian, I order you to never do that again. His voice makes my balls want to shrivel up and my dick want to take a permanent vacation.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I ask, rhetorically. “So I guess we should set some ground rules for the visitors to the Club tonight.”

“Oh good!” Miranda exclaims. “I want to visit the infamous Backroom that Justin’s told me so much about.”

“Oh hell NO! Sunshine!”

“Miranda, that area of the Club is most certainly off limits. You will just have to use your very vivid imagination,” Justin hurriedly explains.

“Aww, you guys are no fun.” I can tell she’s pouting.

“Just think of us as the Headmasters of an all boys private school.”

“Headmasters being the operative word,” Emmett laughs. “Don’t worry, Big Bad. Tits and twats shall not sully the vaunted halls of boys and balls.”

“Ugh! Thanks for that very unwanted visual, Emmett,” Mel sighs.

“Oh you’re welcome,” Emmett responds cheerfully, making all of us laugh.

“Hmm, Brian, I’ve been thinking…” Justin begins.

“A dangerous pastime…”

“I know. But it’s mainly in reference to what Lindsay is bound to try next.”

“Go on.”

“Well, since she can’t exactly team up with Stacy in the ally-sense, Lindsay is still going to heed whatever ill-thought out advice she’ll give her.”

“True. But what does that have to do with the competition?” Miranda asks over the phone.

“Not much, except that this is mine and Brian’s stomping ground. There are plenty of people she could choose from as diversionary tactics go, thinking that it will either distract me from the competition or cause me to quit to keep my partner from committing bloody murder,” Justin reasons.

“You’re talking about the long list of Taylor-Kinney tricks?” Mel adds.

“Indeed, I am,” Justin answers. “Although everyone knows of our no-repeat rule, it doesn’t mean that men haven’t tried to change our minds and then became pissed when it didn’t happen. Since she has unlimited access to Michael, who always paid more attention to our exploits than his own husband, she’s bound to have a ready list of our disgruntled conquests at her hand.”

“I heard that Deb threatened an entire diner full of people with castration earlier today. I can’t imagine any of them going against her without some sort of assurance of safety from her wrath,” Emmett says.

“That may be true, but we all know that there is nothing worse than a woman, or a queer, scorned. If they can get away with getting even in an attempt to regain their pride…”

“Then they would be willing to risk just about anything to restore their standing on the Avenue,” Emmett says, catching onto Justin’s way of thinking. “The only problem I see in trying to prepare for that particular attack is that you and Brian don’t exchange names or numbers with your tricks. Sure, they know you since the two of you are rather infamous, but the same can’t be said about your cum dumpsters of the minute, hour, or night.”

“But then there are also the ones who have wanted us to fuck them, and Justin found them not up to our standards.”

“Wait a minute! You mean you two decide together?” Leda asked, in obvious awe.

“Brian and Justin have been doing that since the second year they were together. It’s kind of a game between them. Justin picks the guy and fucks him, while Brian brings up the rear so to speak,” Emmett informs them.

It’s amazing what he knows about Justin’s and my sex life. I will have to talk to Sunshine about that.

“The one rule they have is that Justin’s ass is off limits to anyone but Brian. So if Justin doesn’t want to fuck the guy, it’s not going to happen, even if Brian does.” Emmett continues.

“Amazing, and you both decided this?” Melanie asks in disbelief.

“It’s the way Brian and I decided on the very specific rules of our tricking life. It doesn’t filter over into our relationship.”

“What about Ethan?” Mel asks. “I know he’s still a sore subject for both of you, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer, but I’ve always wondered. I think Emmett and Leda have, too.”

Justin saves me from answering the question. Even though he and I have talked about it before, I’m still not comfortable reliving the effects of his answers. “My affair with Ethan was due to a very specific set of circumstances, which ironically had nothing to do with mine and Brian’s tricking habits. Brian and I were in a very weird place emotionally where we couldn’t talk to each other. We were always able to before, pre-bashing, but afterwards, the air around us just filled up with all the things we were afraid to say to each other. A lot of it had to do with the fact that we never talked about what happened, thinking that it was irresponsible for the other person’s wellbeing. Not saying that it was right, but that was how it felt at the time. We were both having nightmares, and trying to avoid the fact that I no longer thought the same way, or processed Brian’s actions the same way when words were very rarely needed before. It didn’t help that my own insecurities were being voiced aloud and reinforced by Michael at every opportunity.”

“Why the hell did you listen to him?” Mel interrupted, a little bit pissed at Justin for doing so.

“Believe it or not, for the same reason you chose to believe the bad about yourself when it came to Lindsay, Mel. My perception of Michael and his motives were completely screwed up in such a way where I allowed him to take my kindness for a weakness. I thought that since the bashing happened, we had gotten over the hurdle of our earlier contention and that we were finally becoming friends. Although we were drunk and high at the time, we came up with the concept for Rage, which gave me a way to restore my faith in my ability to draw. It never dawned on me until much later that Michael still harbored the same ill-will towards me and was just using me to make his own dreams a reality. In fact, I don’t think I really came to that conclusion until I saw the story of the first issue played out on stage the night of the release party, and by then it was too late for me to do anything except accept the fact that I gave Michael the tools he needed to separate me and Brian.”

“But where did Ethan really come in? I know that Lindsay was pushing the issue with you getting out and meeting people your own age.”

“That was part of it, but it was mainly that he didn’t have any knowledge or preconceived notions of who I was pre-bashing. It’s what made being with him easy. I didn’t have to feel anything, or hide my feelings of inadequacy the way I tried to do with all of you, especially Brian. I couldn’t and didn’t love him, but I appreciated what he gave me. Which was a break from my reality of hide and go seek at the time.”

“I understand now. Thanks for explaining it to me. And Justin, don’t fuck it up again with Brian, okay?”

He smiles next to me, and places his hand on my knee. “I won’t, Mel. I promise. Brian and I have been through too much and have come too far to let people, places, things, including warped feelings and disillusionment separate us. Besides, contrary to popular belief, Brian and I have actually learned to say everything, but most especially the things that may hurt. We decided that even though we may have to give each other time afterwards, we’ll always come back and hash it out between us.”

“Has that happened yet?”

“Sure it has. Just because we’re in the honeymoon phase, it in no way means that Brian and I have changed all that much. We’ve been on this particular journey since the whole mess with Stockwell; you’re just seeing the effects of it now.”

We pull into the parking lot, and alight from the car to wait for the other two cars to find parking. Thankfully it wasn’t as hard as it usually would be since I called Theodore and told him that we would be coming with guests. He cleared out a few spots, making a few of the bodyguards place the orange cones a little ways down the row near the exit doors of the Backroom. By the time they reach me and Justin, my twink already has his hand down the front of my pants, and is kissing me to within an inch of my life. I know it’s his way of erasing the previous conversation from the forefront of my psyche, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good.

“Jeez, you two can’t even wait until you get inside before you start giving a public show,” Connor laughs.

“Why wait at all? It’s what Brian and I are most known for.”

“What? Racking up the fines for public sex?” Ru asks, snickering.

“No, getting the boys of Babylon all hot and bothered… and some girls, too. Usually I would have Justin splayed out on the roof of the car by now. Tonight, we’re being pretty tame.” I shrug.

“Well don’t change on my account,” Ru encourages, to the laughter of everyone else.

“Trust me, Darling, the floor show will, as always, be worth the wait,” Emmett says. “Now come on, Sweeties. It’s time to shake what your mamas gave you!”

We bypass the line, and I’m taken back to the first time we opened the doors of Babylon after Justin returned from Los Angeles. Even after the bombing, it seems that this place has always been thought of as home to a lot of people, not just me. I remember when I told Justin that I was going to reopen the club. I’d called him to see what he’d thought of the idea, not wanting to do it simply because Michael wanted me to. Justin had been in New York for only a week, but had somehow managed to sanction the thought even from there. I remember my shock and initial worry when he told me to look for his blue sketchpad that he’d left behind. It was a whole book dedicated to a Babylon remodel with each page claiming more of the street than the club did before. Later that evening, I was interrupted by the buzzer, and thinking that it was Michael, I wasn’t going to answer it at first. But the annoying sound continued until I finally relented, to admit none other than Jennifer into my loft. Her arms were full of real estate listings and zoning plans, along with her briefcase hanging off her shoulder.

“What the hell… did you run here or something?” I asked as the wild woman breezed into the loft and headed over to the dining room table.

“Justin called,” she said by way of greeting. “He said that you were reopening the club, and we both know how my son is when he takes an idea into his head.” She reached into her briefcase, and handed me a packet of information before sitting down at the table.

“What’s all this?”

“The first page is all the written plans for the blueprints that Justin had drawn in his sketchpad, which he said you have. The second sheaf of papers are the listings for the businesses which decided not to reopen due to the bombing. So those buildings are vacant, and each of the owners are requesting a short sale, as they want to relocate as quickly as possible and don’t want to be responsible for an additional mortgage until the buildings are sold through the normal time frames. The third sheaf of papers contains a bank draft from Justin’s inheritance which is no longer being held until he’s age twenty-three. He said to use whatever you need of that money to build the club and you all can recoup it on the backend. That way, you wouldn’t need to take out a loan since you’re finally finished off paying for Kinnetik and he’s done with JTDesigns.”

And that is why Babylon is now an entire city-block, and divided into sections, including a coffee bar which is open all hours. Since the reopening, Justin and I have been making money hand over fist, even with paying everyone and the other expenses of owning the club and the land it sits on. Within the first year, we managed to replace every red cent of Justin’s 3.5 million dollar inheritance of which we only used half. And which now sits in the bank to accrue interests. We just pay the requisite taxes on the money and the land each year, but we’re not hurting in any way. It’s but another reason that Lindsay is trying all she can to control us in any way possible. Kinnetik JTD, Inc. is thriving, and if there’s one thing that Michael Novotny and Lindsay Peterson cannot stand, it’s the idea that we’re all doing just fine without them.

Justin and I waste no time getting onto the dancefloor. We left the others at the bar, taking in the sights, and ordering their drinks, but Justin and I have another agenda in mind altogether. After the conversation about the fiddler in the car, this is our way to restore our equilibrium, to make a statement that nothing and no one will ever be able to separate us ever again. As he grinds up against me, and my hands travel the body that I know and love so well, he kisses me and I’m lost in him and the music surrounding us. No words are spoken; none are needed. All that matters is right here in my arms.

DASH AVENUE APARTMENTS

MICHAEL:

I’m just about to settle down to watch the X-Men marathon that’s coming on HBO tonight when Lindsay comes tearing into the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. “Hey, watch it before you damage the fucking lock. I’ll have to pay for that, you know?”

“Sorry, I’m just so fucking pissed off! Do you know that fucking little ingrate just announced to the whole fucking world that he and Brian are MARRIED?! And then he had the temerity to repeat that drivel about Brian being his inspiration. Well, I put a stop to that shit!”

“Well, then what’s the problem?” I ask as I stop to take a sip of my beer. As soon as she calms down, she and I are going to talk about her tantrums. The bitch needs a Xanax!

“The problem is that they set me up!”

“I’m not following.”

She flounces down on the couch, and although I’m relieved she’s finally stopped pacing, it doesn’t mean that I wanted to share my seating space with her. Why oh WHY did she have to come back here before I had a chance to stretch out and get into my movie?! “Justin and that bitch, Miranda, set me up to take their challenge publicly. If I had denied that I belonged within the closed press conference, I would have automatically been disqualified from the competition. So I lied and said that I was an artist of some note, which assured me a place.”

“O-kay,” I say slowly, not understanding what her real damage is. “So you’re officially in the competition. What’s the problem?”

“That I’m NOT an artist of some note. Furthermore, unlike the amateurs, I will be competing as a solo artist now. I have to amass my own assistants and models. Where the fuck am I supposed to find these people?”

“I don’t know. The yellow pages?”

“Michael…” Oh hell to the no, I know that wheedling tone. She looks at me with desperation in her eyes.

“What, Lindsay? And why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re my only hope, Michael. I have to find a way to place at least fourth in the competition, so that I don’t lose all of my standing in the art world. Not only that, but now that I have to have assistants and models, I have to find some way to pay them…”

“Yeah well good luck with that,” I say as I move to the kitchen to grab another beer.

“But Michael, you could help me.”

I laugh. “What the hell do I know about drawing? Hell, if I knew anything about it, Justin wouldn’t have had to pay me to get out of Rage since it would have been my creation entirely. I still wonder what he’s going to do with it now that he owns all of it.”

“Michael, concentrate!” Lindsay yells at me before changing back to that tone of hers I’ve always hated. “Come on, Michael. You could act as my assistant and one of the models. And then when we win the competition, I could pay you back for whatever you pay the models who will work for us.”

Is this bitch for real?! “No.”

“You know, I’m getting pretty tired of hearing that word today.”

“Get used to it.”

“But Michael, don’t you see? This could be perfect! Besides, I’m sure that Brian will be there, so while I’m busy creating, you’ll be able to talk to him.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

She huffs before answering. “Part of the stipulations for me not being kicked out of the competition is that I can’t sabotage Justin and that I can’t interfere with Brian nor Justin’s business regarding Kinnetik JTD or their personal lives. I can’t circumvent it because of all the news media in attendance, who both heard and recorded the ultimatum. So you see, Michael. You would be much more than my assistant, and sometimes benefactor; you would be our only hope to get to Brian and make him see reason.”

I’m going back and forth in my mind, trying to figure out if Lindsay has a hidden agenda in all of this. The bottom line is that right now, she’s the only one still speaking to me. Even if deep down we hate each other, we have a common goal- which is to send Boy Wonder’s ass packing as soon as possible. Like it or not, our best chance to do that is to be up close and personal with him in order to throw him off his game. Lindsay may not have the leeway to do much to him, but I won’t be under the same strenuous rules and regulations.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door. “You expecting anyone?” I ask her.

“No, just waiting for your answer.”

I stall for time a little more while I answer the impatient knocking happening again. “Alright, I’m coming! Keep your pants on!” I yell as I wrench open the door. “Uh, may I help you?”

“Sure you can,” the tall stranger says. “You can sign here, and is there a Miss Peterson here as well?”

“Yes,” Lindsay says in a flirtatious voice. “I’m Lindsay, how may I help you?”

“You can sign in the space right below Mr. Novotny’s signature.” The guy just barely stops himself from rolling his eyes, while I have no such filter. I push the clipboard just this side of forcefully into her flat chest. God, I still can’t get the image of her yucky tits out of my mind! YUCK! Anyway, she looks down the list to the empty space and hastily scrawls her name.

“All done. Now, do you know who these packets are from?” Lindsay coos. Why the fuck does she have to do that? She sounds like a fucking pigeon!

“Not sure, but if it helps, the packets are from Mrs. Horvath.”

“Ma? Why the hell would she use a messenger? She could have come here to deliver them herself,” I gripe.

“I can’t answer any of your questions. My only job was to see that you got them and signed. So now that it’s finished, I’ll be on my way. Bye.”

“But I was hoping to ask you to stay awhile,” Lindsay whines. She must be hurting for dick to hit on this guy.

“Sorry, not sorry, but I can’t. I have more deliveries to make. Besides, I’m not into forward women.”

“I’m not forward. I just know what I want and like what I see.”

“Too bad for you. But hey, I know a good escort service that might be willing to help you out. I hear they don’t discriminate based on age. You could easily pass for fifty.”

Lindsay gasps, and I nearly choked on my own spit laughing at the appalled look on her face. The guy took the moment of shocked silence on her part to get out of the apartment unmolested. As I close the door behind him, I hear her muttering, “How dare he? The fucker must need his eyes checked. I don’t look a day over twenty-nine.”

Yep, the bitch is definitely delusional. At least he was being kind in saying fifty, since Lindsay generally looks as old as Methuselah to me. Ummm, make that Medusa since her stringy hair is still sticking out every which way from her earlier tantrum. I open my packet to find several documents, most of which I don’t understand. “Lindsay, what is all this shit?”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, still looking at the closed door instead of the packet in her hands.

“Well, you’ve fucked a lawyer. What does it mean when they say ‘supervised visitation’?”

“What?” she asks, and snatches the papers out of my hand. “It also says here that you are banned from Kinnetik, Babylon, Woody’s, the Diner, Carnegie Mellon University, the Loft Apartments on Tremont Street, and the building formerly known as Red Cape Comics. There’s also a petition that has gone around your old neighborhood of Empress Lane, stating that you are not allowed within fifty feet of it or they will call the police. Jesus, how many people did you piss off?”

“Give me that!” I yell at her, and look it over myself. When the fuck did Brian and Justin buy Woody’s and the Diner? “On the plus side, it says I’m banned, but it didn’t come over as a restraining order. This is more like a warning of some sort?”

“That’s the way I’m taking it,” she says as she opens her own packet. “OH HELL THE FUCK NO!”

“What is it, Lindsay?”

“They did the same shit to me, too. Only there are also stipulations in here that I’m not allowed to speak about or talk to Justin, Miranda, or Brian. I’m only allowed to speak to Melanie in reference to the children, and to arrange the supervised visits with Debbie as chaperone. Well fuck that!”

“What are you going to do?”

“Act like I didn’t get it, of course. I’ll be damned if they tell me what I can or can’t do, or who I can or can’t speak to. Justin thinks he’s got me well in hand, well I’ll show him!”

“But Lindsay, won’t disobeying these instructions cause you to be kicked out of the competition?” I really don’t care about Justin at all, but if Lindsay and I are going to make her plan work, wouldn’t it be better to not get kicked out?

“That’s why you’re going to help me, Michael. Your set of papers didn’t say anything about Justin, Miranda, and Brian, with the exception of being banned from the local hangouts. So you’re going to act as my mouthpiece, at least in reference to the competition. Your mere presence will goad Justin. All you have to do is make it count in ways that will make Justin seem like the little fucktard he is. Right now, he has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. Well the darling of the art world has very little patience when it comes to you.”

I think about what she’s saying, and for once, she actually makes sense. It’s always been easy for me to push Justin’s buttons, even if he chose to only respond when it got to be too much. He’ll only be able to ignore me for so long. And in the meantime, I could use the time to pitch a new comic idea to Connor and Brett, since they are bound to be there as well. “Okay, I’ll do it, Lindsay. But it will have to be done during my off hours.”

“Off hours?”

“Yeah, I still have to find a job. This money isn’t going to last forever.”

“But Michael, if all goes well, and if you give this your full attention, Brian financially supporting you once again will be well assured. I’ll make sure of it.”

I look at her intently, trying to gauge what her real aim is. She’s still looking over the papers in her hands, but I don’t see a calculating smirk as I normally would if she was trying to fuck me over. Granted, Lindsay and I have never been real friends, but when shit gets in the way of our individual goals, she always comes up with the best plans. So like it or not, I need her; but she needs me, too. Based on those papers, without me she doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting to Justin in a way that will make him fail publicly and get his ass back to New York as we want him to. “Okay, Lindsay. We’ll do this your way for now.”

“Oh Michael, I’m so glad you see things my way.”

I nod, but somehow, I feel like I’ve just sold my soul to the devil.

DEB

I close the door after Toby reports back to me and Carl about delivering the papers to my idiot son and his sister in stupidity. I keep wondering where I went wrong with him. As if hearing my thoughts, Carl comes up behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. “It’s not that you went wrong, Red; you just gave him too much. The fact that Michael continues to be a moocher is all his own doing.”

“I keep wondering if I didn’t slap him enough,” I answer, barely keeping the tenseness out of my voice. Carl just laughs.

“I don’t think that would have helped any more than it has. He only learned to duck faster. No, you did the best you could do, but you should have made him stand by his own bad decisions instead of asking everyone else to cloak and cover for him.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that, Red, but it happened. So now Michael, in the company of Lindsay, is about to experience the growing pains he should have received during his teens and early twenties. It’s not going to be easy to watch, but it’s what you’re going to have to do if you want him to finally learn once and for all. The guys and Mel are finished cleaning their messes up for them. This really should have happened a long time ago, if you ask me.”

“But why now? It’s what I keep asking myself. I don’t exactly know what changed.”

“In a word, Justin.” I go to protest, but he stops me. “No, Red, just listen. As you already know, Lindsay went to Brian behind Justin’s back to get him on that plane to New York. Now that wouldn’t have been so bad, except that Justin had already told her that he wanted to be with Brian and she disregarded that for her own purposes. So once Justin leaves, enter Michael, to not only be the royal pain in the ass that he’s always been where Brian is concerned, but also Lindsay’s eyes and ears while she’s living up in Canada. You think they didn’t have phone conferences about Brian every week?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, since they don’t really get along.”

“They don’t get along, except when they share a common goal. In this case, it was keeping Brian from living his life with Justin. The only problem with their plans was that Brian and Justin weren’t cooperating. To them, a cancelled wedding meant a failed relationship, but with Brian and Justin that wasn’t the case. In fact, the fact that they entered a legal domestic partnership before Justin got on the plane to New York showed just how determined they were to be together. I would imagine that now that Michael and Lindsay know about it, their bullshit is about to enter hyperdrive. It will be okay that Brian and Justin have signed legal papers joining their lives as long as they don’t live together. Well, that will probably be the case for Lindsay, because it will mean that Justin is still going on about the career she covets. But Michael’s story will be different. He’ll try his tricks to get between Brian and Justin just as he had in the past, with the ultimate goal being that the partnership be dissolved permanently.”

“But hell, Carl, they’re more married than we are!”

“True. But Michael doesn’t see it that way. To him, if Ben can divorce him from their Canadian marriage, then it shouldn’t be that difficult to untie Brian and Justin. He doesn’t understand that although Brian and Justin are in a relationship, they are also a corporation now. And no way in hell are Taylor-Kinney Corp just going to take their balls and go home. Those boys have worked too hard and seen too much to let anyone ever come between them again. You’re just going to have to wait and let the chips of Michael’s plans fall where they may.”

I nod, understanding what Carl is really telling me. Michael is about to receive the hardest lesson in growing up- the fact that you don’t always get what you want, no matter how hard you work for it. Some things just aren’t meant to be, and although you end up disappointed and angry, it still isn’t going to change the facts. Lindsay is already learning it, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge the lesson.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take for them to remember that their kids are what’s really important here, and not their assholery,” I tell Carl.

“We may be waiting forever to have that happen. If nothing else, Lindsay and Michael are both predictable, and selfish. They’ll remember the kids when everything else around them falls apart, and they are left with no one else to turn to. Gus and Jenny are the only reason any of the guys and Mel still bother with either of them. They will figure that out sooner or later.” Is it too much to hope that it’s later… much, MUCH later? “By the way, did I tell you that Brian and Justin made the offer to move us out to their neighborhood?”

“What do you mean, Carl? We already live within  five minute car ride of the loft.” I know there was a house once, but I don’t remember Brian mentioning keeping it.

“That we do, and they still have the loft. But well, as you know I’m retiring officially next month, and well… Brian and Justin offered to give me a mortgage on one of their properties, not far from where they live in Belle Aire Estates. I thought it might be a nice change to get out of the City. We could travel and you could finally stop working at the Diner, even though you only do it part time now.”

I think about it. Truthfully, I’ve lived in this house for twenty-eight years, and have never had a change in life. Even though I love the place, and the neighborhood because it was close to everything I held dear at the time, I’ve never seen it as my forever home. At the time I bought it, I never thought that I would have a husband; my time was devoted to my son’s well-being and upbringing. It’s where I nursed Vic back to health, and where I lost him again, not only to Rodney, but ultimately, to death. Maybe it’s time for me to move on from the constant reminders of my struggles throughout the years, and finally embrace all life has to offer me… with a husband. “How about we talk about it again after Sunshine’s competition is over.”

“Why wait?” Carl asks, truly puzzled.

“Because I might want to take a page out of Brian and Justin’s book by the time it’s all over. Other than the loft, we have no idea where the two of them live. I might want that same option based on how things pan out.”

“I’ll set the move in date for the day afterwards, then.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“You will,” Carl tells me, kissing my cheek soundly, and laughing.

CHAPTER 13: GROWING UP and BRANCHING OUT

JUSTIN

Brian comes into the kitchen, just as I finish fixing my coffee. After kissing me for the fifth time this morning, he snatches my cup out of my hand and takes a large gulp.

“Ugh, how can you drink that?” he almost sputters, as I laugh.

“The same way you tend to drink sugar with a drop or two of actual coffee.”

“But yours is all creamy. Then again, I have a very special blend of cream that could be a substitute.”

“I thought I already drained that particular vessel this morning… three times.”

“You have a point,” he snickers, fixing his own cup of coffee and proving my point. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Interviewing assistants before I’m due at the competition. So far Miranda’s been doing the job, but with all the projects and shows coming up, including the competition itself, she’s going to need some downtime of her own. Plus she has other clients that need her too, even if she’s been devoted to seeing my career flourish since she and I started working together.”

“That makes sense, especially now with the contract for KellJam added to our schedules, you’re going to need one.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to train anyone else. Cheryl would be perfect, but that would be stifling her own talents so I would rather not use her. I need a Cynthia of my own.”

“You do. And ironically even though she’s the COO of Kinnetik, she still manages to make my life run smoothly. The assistant I have is mostly for the business side of things, but anything personal she handles herself.”

“Are you suggesting that I get two assistants?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet, but the one you hire should be able to handle both areas of your life effectively. The only reason Cynthia still does it is because she’s a control freak and knows that if Tony fucks up, she’ll hear about it and have to fix it. Ultimately, it makes her job as COO easier so that she doesn’t have to hold interviews again.”

I laugh. “Strangely, I can see that being her reasoning. I just don’t want someone entry-level, where I have to explain every single thing to them. I don’t have the time or patience to do all of that.”

“I get it, since it’s why I was hesitant to let Cynthia fly. But I think I have a couple of people in mind.”

“Who? I’ll hire them now just so I don’t have to go through the tedium of interviewing.”

“Uh-huh, Sunshine,” Brian laughs. “Get used to it, since you’re going to be doing a lot more of it while expanding JTD. Besides, I have to call and see if they are available to meet your very demanding needs first.”

“They? I thought you said that one would do.”

“I changed my mind, thinking about all we have coming up. Plus, I want us to be able to travel together sometimes, giving us a mini-vacation while landing accounts. With the way things are shaping up, we’re sure to need a break.”

“I can see your point,” I tell him, and I can. Considering all the time we’ve spent apart in the very recent past, I’m loathe to separate again for any length of time. I suppose the separation anxiety we’re both feeling right now will dissipate at some point, but not yet. “Well, I guess you’ll get to see me all dressed up this morning, which should be a real treat for you.”

“Seeing you undressed is even more of one, I assure you.”

“No can do, old man. I have to go play mogul now. I’ll see if my new assistant can fit you in early this afternoon before I have to head to the Alwin.”

“That’ll be a tight fit.”

“It always is,” I answer seductively.

“It most certainly is, Sunshine. Still virgin tight, and absolutely delicious.” He kisses me, and already I feel my resolve weakening. There’s nothing I want more than to stay here at our house, locked away and naked. But I have to get on with setting up my side of the newly formed Kinnetik JTD.

I reluctantly pull back as I tell him, “Cheryl is flying in later today, and I want to fill her in on everything going on while setting up our workstations. As was discussed last night, we both know Lindsay is going to flout the rules as much as possible without doing anything overt to get her kicked out of the competition. She’s just that desperate to get her way.”

“This has to be about more than just managing your career, Justin.”

“It is,” I answer, and then have to make a decision about just what to tell him. I decide to give Brian all the information, so that he’s not caught off guard when she brings it up. “It’s about you, of course. But it’s also that she made promises that neither she nor her pet playboy, Simon, can keep.”

“What do you mean?”

“I found out that they already had the flyers made and an announcement of my guaranteed appearance at his gallery opening put in the papers. There’s that, and…”

“What?”

“The fact that she promised him I would be available to become his lover.”

“WHAT?!?!?!”

“Calm down, Brian,” I say sternly, while running my hands up and down his arms to soothe him. “It’s why she was so pissed that we announced our marriage yesterday. It’s further proof shoved blatantly in her face that whatever plans she had to separate me from you wouldn’t have worked. Lindsay doesn’t only see herself in the role of my stage mother, but also as my pimp. Honestly, her first attempt was with Ethan.”

“But how? It’s not like he was rich or anything.”

“He didn’t have to be rich where money was concerned, Brian. He had an abundance of affection which meant more to me at the time; it still does, and Lindsay knew that. She’s an expert at playing with people’s emotions, knowing their weaknesses and using them to her advantage. In her mind, if she could get me away from you, the payoff for her would be great. Besides she’s had years of practice in that particular market of supply and demand. It’s all about checks and balances, like the way an accountant would look at numbers, Brian. And pimp was often a role she and Michael had played with you over the years, without you even realizing it. Keeping you sexually satisfied in one-night stands would always ensure that you would still be available for them emotionally and financially.

"It must have confused them, and then later pissed Michael and Lindsay off that all I wanted from you was your love, which has always been freely given to me, regardless of any admission on your part. Everything else you gave me was simply you seeing to my physical and educational needs, which is something you would have done for any of the people you love. It was the blatant, in-your-face truth that I was so much more than a trick to you, that they couldn’t stand.”

I can tell that he’s processing what I’ve said; cataloguing every interaction with his tricks where either Michael or Lindsay were present, and putting it into perspective. My heart almost breaks for him as the resignation to the truth enters his eyes. I want to say something to comfort him, but he stops me. “I’m going to run over to Mel’s before we have to leave for the office.”

“I love you, Brian.”

“I know, Sunshine. The feeling is mutual.” I kiss him goodbye and head to our bedroom to prepare for a long work day.

BRIAN

Well, that sure was hard to hear, but even harder to accept about Michael and Lindsay. Their questionable behavior towards me had always been in the back of mind, but whenever I thought about it, I just drank more to drown out the subliminal suggestion that my two best friends thought I was a whore, and tried to capitalize on that belief for their own benefit. I mean, what did they really gain, or hope to gain from my chronic disengagement with other people? Money? Did my constant tricking somehow feed their fantasy that the less detached I stayed during sex, the more likely that I would fall in love with them someday? Hell, right now I don’t even like them! And asking those exact questions, floating around in my mind, is causing me to reevaluate and re-examine all of their interactions with me, and later on when Justin appeared unexpectedly in my life. I hate that their actions throughout the years have caused me to second-guess myself, or that somehow… yeah. It all comes down to what they both crave: Control.

Michael’s spent his entire life being inferior- first because of his inherent geekiness, and then later because of his lack of couth and education. Instead of doing things to better himself, or at least trying to, his lack of character showed itself time and time again. In retrospect, the fact that he lived in a self-imposed hetero closet for most of his adult life is very telling in and of itself. Add to that the fact that he’s too complacent and lazy for anyone to really take him seriously. It became clear to me early on that Michael needed someone to fulfill the role of father figure in his life. And whereas I was willing to do that throughout much of our friendship, with the help of Vic, once I really started to understand just what Justin meant to me, I no longer had the time nor inclination to do it anymore.

What’s funny is that I still tried because of Deb, but eventually, I had to make a choice of whether to salvage a friendship that should have ended years ago and stay stuck in a perpetual cycle of teen angst, or begin living up to my own expectations… characteristics within me that I tried to keep hidden, but apparently Justin has seen them in me all along. It was hard to break the habit of kissing Michael’s ass for the sake of peace and sanity, but I made the conscious choice to start putting my wants and needs first, including and especially not letting go of Justin in the way Michael and Lindsay expected me to. I suppose that’s the main reason they’ve joined forces now in a last ditch effort to get me back into their minimized view of just who Brian Kinney is.  

Lindsay’s control issues stem from another direction entirely. Whereas Michael’s mother was always supportive, her parents always favored Lynette, even as they either ignored or blatantly disapproved of Lindsay. She had to look a certain way, or act a certain way for them to even remember that she shared DNA with them. Their continued disregard led to Lindsay’s rebellious streak making itself known, and she became the personification of the saying ‘All publicity is good publicity.’ It’s why she’s been working so hard to get into matrimony with me by any means necessary, even if it means destroying my happiness in the process. Thinking about it as I’m walking up the long drive to Melanie’s house, I realize that she started this particular campaign back in our college years. One night of drunken idiocy on my part, almost caused me to get fucked up in more ways than a few ounces of pot and a gallon of Wild Turkey could have ever done.

Somehow Lindsay thought that I owed her for her friendship- which I really didn’t ask for, but came by way of being partnered in a lab required for us to graduate- and thought the perfect way to repay her would be by tying my life to hers permanently. As it was, bringing me to her parents’ gatherings as her beard had them thinking that marriage between us was imminent upon leaving Penn State. I’d spoken to her several times about disabusing them of their wrongful opinions, which she would always say she would do after she got a job and found her own place so she wouldn’t have to take the financial risk. Coming from the family I had, I could understand her worry when she told me that at the time, so I didn’t push my release date from the heteronormative prison she was trying to create for me. But as she kept putting me off, I started to notice how clingy and possessive she was becoming. It’s why I hurried away from her after the night of Midsummer Madness, and fucked guy after guy to the point of exhaustion and dried nuts. I didn’t even bother to stop pounding into whatever guy I was with, each and every time she made it her business to drop by my dorm room unannounced. I wanted to drill the thought that I would NEVER be the perfect fool for her through her eyeballs and into her brain quick, fast, and in a hurry!

I knew I shouldn’t have listened to her regarding that article about Justin, but as always, she made sense when presenting her argument. Unfortunately for me, Lindsay had come to know me very well throughout the years; knowing my insecurities and just what to say to get me to rethink the decisions I’ve made that I was sure were the right ones. She had also begun to know Justin on the same level, in that she knew that Justin would go to avoid an argument, and ultimately a complete break-up with me. But what she didn’t count on was that I had studied her as well, even if I tried consistently to ignore the parts of her avaricious nature that were often hiding in plain sight. I’m almost convinced that she had planned to create some drama which would have had me blaming Mel, and ending by telling her to come back down to the Pitts. Then she would have been free to, once again, try and pin her matrimonial hopes on me.

But Lindsay grossly miscalculated in all facets, beginning with Mel and I developing a friendship outside of her influence. She also didn’t think that Justin and I would stay together, or that he and I would be wise and still go ahead with our plans to ‘get married’ before he even boarded the plane to New York. In fact, if she wasn’t so sure that her goal of sending Justin away was met, she would have noticed that we’d changed his original departure date. But that was one time her innate arrogance played beautifully into mine and Justin’s hands. We’re irrevocably linked, and will remain that way no matter what nitwit schemes she and Michael come up with.

Arriving at the front door, I see the sign to go around back. Because the house is fairly large, not as much as mine and Justin’s, but close, Mel said that it’s a trek from her home office to the front door. So she’s been putting the notes on the door for when Justin and I come over. I know the kids are still at Debbie’s since Mel wanted to move into the house right away and get everything set up without having Jenny and Gus underfoot. Looking at my watch, I figure that Melanie should definitely be in her office by this time. Ironically, she’s an early riser even without having to take care of the kids.

Thankfully, other than Mother Taylor, who’s the only other person that knows that Mel’s relocated to this neighborhood, we don’t have to worry about surprise visits just yet. But I really want to talk to her about my idea for Justin’s assistants while he isn’t around. I wasn’t lying when I said that he needs to get used to interviewing. The few people he has working for him now are friends he’s met and made in L.A. and New York, so they have been with him for awhile. But with the expansion timetable being moved up, time is of the essence to have an office that can run effectively in his absence. So I need her take on the capabilities of the two people I have in mind to act as Justin’s assistants. I know what I think, but I may be a bit biased since if I had my way, I would have hired them as soon as I found out they had completed their degrees.

Hearing the dulcet tones of Marian Hill blasting, I know that even knocking Mel won’t hear me. I swear she’s so different than she was with Lindsay, and that even extends to her taste in music and how loud she chooses to play it. As much as I like bands like Aerosmith or the Rolling Stones, I could never play it at full blast, the way Mel is playing the song, “Down”. But I have to admit that the song, even with its electro-beats is pretty fucking mellow, and paints a very distinct picture as you listen to it. I think I will certainly add the artist to my own playlist... maybe even get Justin to revisit his King of Babylon persona. I shake my head of the fantasy that my mind just conjured, realizing that if I didn't, Justin and I would NOT be leaving the house today.

As, I look at the minor changes Mel has already made as she unpacked the kitchen, I’m further convinced that Justin and I did the right thing by offering this place to her. I can already tell that she’s going to be happy here since she can allow the kids to play in the yard at the playground, and still keep them within sight of the large bay windows. In fact, the entire back of the house is all windows, so it makes it possible to watch them from each of the rooms. I couldn’t explain what made me want to make sure that she’s pleased, except that in remembering my own childhood, I never wanted Gus to know the discontent unhappy parents could feel. Although he’s losing Lindsay, I have the feeling that it would have hurt him worse to lose Melanie.

Checking my watch again, I know I have to hurry this up. I really want her on board with hiring them, even before Justin has a chance to see who I want him to hire. Considering that both of the candidates have completed their pre-law requirements upon receiving their Bachelor’s degrees from Mellon, I want to know if I’m doing them a disservice by offering the position to them.

“Mel, I…” Upon entering the office, I want to immediately run out, screaming in horror!

“Fucking hell! Kinney!” Mel yells, as Leda’s head snaps up from between Mel’s spread legs. She’s laughing hysterically at the looks that must be on both of our faces, while she turns off the music. Mel is still standing there yelling at me. Oh God, did I have to know that she’s taken to shaving?! “What the hell are you doing here this early?! I was supposed to meet you at the office later if I recall.”

I close my eyes, and turn towards the open portal that was previously at my back. Leda is still laughing, but manages between gasps to say, “Calm down, Sugar Lips. Consider this payback for all the times you’ve walked in on Brian in a similar situation.”

I hear Melanie snickering behind me. “You’re right, and he deserves it for coming here unannounced.”

“I could say the same about you, you know?”

“Hey, barging in on you was never my idea. It was... “

“And we all know what a joy that was for her, and no doubt her pet idiot, Michael. They’re probably still trying to scrub out the cum stains from their drawers,” Leda drawls.

“Thank you, NOT, for that unwanted and disgusting image,” I blech.

“At least it’s taken your mind off the lezzy sex you were witnessing,” she says unashamedly. I knew there was a reason that I loved her, but right now I loathe her for putting the image of Mel spread-eagled on her desktop to the forefront of my psyche again. “So what was it you wanted before you interrupted Mel’s seventh orgasm this morning?”

“Seventh?” I couldn’t even help my shocked response, or the admiration in my voice at Leda’s busy morning.

“You’re not the only talented fucker around here, BK. And like Justin, there was certainly a very good reason that Mel has always been addicted to me, inside of the bedroom- or in this case, her home office- as well as out of it. So back to the reason you’re here, and make it fast because my Sugar is melting...”

“UGH! Stop with the innuendos already! God, where is Justin when I need him?!”

“Home, where you should be,” Melanie laughs.

“Just… just put something on, already. I can’t talk to you seriously while you’re naked. It’s a visual that may stop my dick from ever working again, and then you’ll know what it’s like to have a bitchy Justin on your hands. Which would serve you right, since I’m not sure that my corneas will recover as it is!”

“Shut up, Brian,” Mel snarks, but at least I see her grab for her robe out of the corner of my eye.

“And make sure you scrub the desk thoroughly before allowing Gus and Jenny in here… No, nevermind, I’ll get them their own computers to make sure they NEVER have a reason to sit behind your desk or… or…”

Leda guffaws again. “Jeez Mel, I think we’ve finally left him speechless.”

“I’ll send Justin my bill for a job well done,” Mel snickers. “Now Brian, what did you want?”

I peek from behind my hands as I turn around, relieved to see that she’s finally presentable enough for me to talk to her. “Justin and I talked this morning. He’s interviewing for assistant positions this morning. I’d like you to join him, especially on two of the interviews.”

“Which two?”

“I know that Hunter and Daphne have completed their Bachelor degrees, with a concentration in Pre-law.”

“I thought Daph was going to pursue medical school,” Mel says, but I shake my head.

“She was, but then a situation with a family member got a raw deal regarding a settlement from a broken contract with his agent. So she decided to become an attorney instead. Hunter went into law because of the work you did for him some years ago. Even though I know he wanted to work for the D.A.’s office sometime ago, I know since his mother’s death, he’s shied away from it.”

“Rita Montgomery is dead? I hadn’t heard.”

“Very few people know about it. Ben knows, but Michael doesn’t. After Hunter left, and then came back after the bombing of Babylon, Michael started treating him like shit, especially when he mentioned that he wanted to attend college. He took every opportunity to remind Hunter about his shortened lifespan, and told him that the best he could hope for was to live long enough to make manager at the Big Q or at the local gas station, but wasting money on college should not have ever been a goal. It was more than apparent that whatever Michael had, or thought to be received from Ben’s pension or his death, was to go for Jenny only.”

“But that’s absurd since he didn’t even pay his own child support; you did, and Ben when he was able to. Michael is such an ass! How has Hunter been getting by?”

“Instead of Hunter fighting Michael or calling the fool out for his ignorant and hurtful words, he moved out, cut all ties with Michael- and therefore Ben- to keep confusion down between the Novotny-Bruckners, and got the scholarships needed for him to attend college tuition free. He worked part-time as a Research Assistant at a local law office to cover any other expenses he had, and what he wasn’t able to do, I covered personally without him knowing. I asked the attorney he worked for to tell him it was an additional stipend given to their work-study students, and added it to his paychecks to make it look official. What I want to know is if I offer them- or more accurately, if I present them to Justin as his assistants- would we be doing a disservice to them?”

“If I’m hearing you correctly, Daphne was going to concentrate on Entertainment law, or go into the Corporate sector?”

“Her cousin plays for the Ironmen, so I would imagine so.”

“Darryl Chanders is her cousin?” Leda asks, in awe.

“One and the same,” I answer.

“There was a nasty lawsuit against his agent. The bastard was cheating Darryl, who almost ended up going to jail for tax evasion. It turned out that his agent was falsifying Darryl’s earnings before the financial information ever reached his accountant. It was to cover the agent’s embezzlement. If I’m not mistaken, Darryl wasn’t the only client the jerk was doing that to,” Leda tells the both of us.

“It’s why, as much as I trust Ted and know he wouldn’t deliberately cheat me and Justin, I still check behind him. He knows I do it, and understands that it’s my way of covering my own ass. He doesn’t mind though. In fact, I think he rather likes that I do it because it shows I’m actually paying attention during the tedious financial meetings.”

“So why are you questioning if you should offer Hunter and Daphne the jobs?” Mel asks me.

“Well, one would be working as Justin’s personal assistant, while the other would be his version of Cynthia within the office. I want to know that the money they spent on their educations isn’t going to be wasted. I would actually like for you and Miranda to train them in Entertainment Law, and Corporate Law. If they want to, they can still attend law school and Kinnetik JTD will pay for it. But I want two people, who Justin can trust implicitly and that will always have his best interests at heart…”

“Especially with Michael and Lindsay still lurking around,” Leda finishes for me. I nod my head in affirmation.

“Okay, but why then are you putting Justin through the torture of holding formal interviews for the position?” Mel asks me.

“For two reasons. The first is that Justin is expanding, and he’s going to need a full staff, similar to what I have with the advertising portion of the business. Only it's going to be geared towards servicing KellJam Studios, and perhaps other major motion picture work as well. He can’t afford to leave the hiring of his staff up to anyone else if he’s aiming to have people with his same work ethic. We all know that people tend to show one face until they get the job, and suddenly you realize that you shouldn’t have hired them. Justin needs to get a feel for the people who will be working for him, and he can only do that up close and personal.”

“And the second reason?” Leda asks. I can tell she’s fascinated by my reasoning.

“He’s co-CEO of Kinnetik JTD. He has to get used to that title, and all that goes with it, whether he wants to or- in his case right now- not. The way he handled Connor and Brett yesterday proved to me that he is more than ready to take his seat beside me instead of just being the co-owner in name only, which is what Justin would do if I let him. But as with most things that Justin doesn’t like, I have to maneuver him into a corner where he has no choice but to do it. This is certainly one of those times. So which one do you think you want to train, Mel?”

“Hunter.”

“Why?” I ask, although I think I know the reason.

“If Hunter has already worked as a research assistant, that’s over half the battle right there. It’s what Cynthia has done for you for years when it came to acquiring clients. Also like Cynthia, he can still effectively run the office for Justin in his absence, while getting all the information Justin will need during meetings with any department or client. Also, in terms of legal, if Hunter looks over the contract before he hands it over and has questions, it’s almost a surety that Justin will have them as well. So having Hunter sitting in the seat Cynthia has occupied for as long as I’ve known her will be an added bonus and increase productivity within JTD. Besides no one can read bullshit better than Hunter, except perhaps you.”

“Thanks, Mel. That was my thought, too. He might look like a marshmallow, but that boy is all vinegar when pissed off, even if he never raised his voice. He’s actually grown up to be a lot like Justin, which should have everyone fucking worried.” I laugh. “So I’ll let Miranda know that she’ll be in charge of training little Ms. Dynamite to take on the role of Justin’s personal assistant.”

Mel snickers. “That should be interesting. She’s as territorial about Justin as Michael and Lindsay were about you, only without the whole unrequited love schtick.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” Leda asks, but I smile.

“No. Unlike the PITA Association, Daphne values her friendship with Justin above all else. They’ve been friends since their first week of Kindergarten and haven’t separated since. They even share the same birthday. But more importantly, she absolutely HATES Michael, and is certainly not too thrilled about Lindsay for several reasons; Justin’s excursion to New York at Lindsay’s behest being the biggest one,” I answer Leda while Mel nods.

“The thing that will frustrate Lindsay the most is that while she won’t be able to play her little country club games on Justin, she’ll be a damn fool to think she can try them on Daph. She tends to forget that just as Justin grew up being fed double-talk and subterfuge in the country club, so has Daphne. Her family is on par with Justin’s in elite society,” Mel adds as she chuckles, and I know immediately where her mind has gone.

“Lindsay’s is just a step above the bottom of the barrel, and Daphne won’t hesitate to remind her of it,” I laugh as well, already seeing Lindsay being verbally handed her ass after trying to intimidate Daphne.

There has always been a side to her and Justin that very few but the truly deserving only get to see. It's the malicious streak which allows them to look completely innocent, while delivering a hard dose of reality that the receiver would rather not be known or remembered. That said, one would think Lindsay would have learned not to fuck with Justin last night during the press conference, but no! She just must keep pressing her luck until there is nothing and no one left to help her save face. She completely incapable of just slinking back off under the rock of mediocrity she keeps trying to escape from, or to drag me down to. So, once again, Lindsay is about to learn her true place and purpose, but this time it’s going to be more public than she ever bargained for.    

“And here I thought this competition was going to be boring!” Leda exclaims laughing. “Perhaps we should keep a couple of barf bags on hand.”

“Barf bags? What for?” Mel asks.

“So that when Lindsay begins to choke on her own malevolence, none of us will have to clean up behind her. If what you said about Daphne’s protectiveness of Justin is true, I have a feeling that it won’t be too much of a stretch to have Lindsay also choking on her teeth. She tends to push people to want to punch her in the mouth.”

“Sure she does, but let’s at least wait until the entire audience of Skin Wars isn't there to bear witness. Above all else, Justin has to remain professional and above board,” Mel points out.

“I’ll keep a tight rein on him… and on Daphne. Besides, between she and Justin, there’s never any telling when they will strike back. And when they decide to, it will be worth the price of admission. I promise.” I rub my hands, suddenly anxious to install both Hunter and Daphne in their new positions within Kinnetik JTD.  

CHAPTER 14: STRATEGY AND PLANNING

JUSTIN:

If ever there was a time that I may have contemplated a million ways to kill my lover in his sleep, THIS was one of those times! Being stuck in this conference room was one of the reasons I’d always shunned the idea of being a businessman. The other was because it would have made Craig all too happy… Although that’s debatable, since with the help of Kinnetik, Emerson is close to stomping out the competition of Taylor Electronics. I expect to hear of the bankruptcy soon, or at the very least a merger. If Craig is smart, he’ll take whatever Emerson might offer for the failing company, then take the money and run. It would be better than having the public humiliation of having to hold a ‘Going Out of Business’ sale, with everyone knowing that it’s because he couldn’t pay the rent or employees salaries. But when has Craig EVER been smart?

Which brings me back to the present… So far I’ve held four interviews and within the five minutes each of them lasted, I was ready to leave. Instead, I picked up my sketch pad while they were going on and on about why I should hire them, or outright deflecting and rejecting them when Clarence Lawson and Veronica Smythe- or more accurately, the bootleg and broke version of Snookie- thought that the way to get ahead in my company was to give me head. Thankfully Brian walked in at just the right moments to check on me, which curbed Snookie-lite, dropping to her knees with an attempt to blow me over.

“Well, Mr. Taylor-Kinney, I see that you’re becoming acquainted with your latest employee. I can come back later, if you want.”

“Ha, very funny, Brian,” I sneer in his direction, while the Snookie-lite tried to jump to her feet. She probably shouldn’t have worn that fucking condom-dress. That shit’s so tight, she should be pregnant with little latex babies by now. I roll my eyes as she keeps trying to get up, and look at Brian. “Please tell me there was something IMPORTANT that you needed?”

“Only to introduce you to your actual new assistants.”

“Seriously?” I ask him, as a familiar whirlwind shoots past him, into my office.

“I don’t believe that particular job would have been written in the employee handbook. Justin, why is Snookie-lite trying to perform Brian’s usual position?” Daphne asks me.

“Nice to see you too, Daph,” I snicker. “As for why, that’s something you should probably ask her as you see her OUT.”

Daphne finally gets the chick to her feet, advising along the way, “Girl, have some class about yourself! You give us personal assistants a bad name. First, lose the condom-dress; it screams desperate whore in every way, shape, form, and color. Secondly, why would Justin want you in ANY capacity, since you were bird-brained enough to disregard the fact that he’s gay and is co-owner alongside his HUSBAND? My third and final piece of advice is that you learn to research your potential employers. Google is useful for more than just watching yourself on PornHub. Okay? Got it? Good! Now buh-bye,” Daphne said, as she slammed the door in the stunned woman’s face.

“Jeez, you guys sure can pick them. It’s a good thing you called me and Daph, Brian, otherwise I doubt you would have been getting laid anytime soon. Justin’s balls would have been forced to hide every time he replayed that walking nightmare,” Hunter laughed.

“I hope she’s on birth control. No way that stupid bitch should ever procreate,” Daphne sneered.

“I know I’m probably going to be very sorry that I asked, considering who your best friend is, but why would that matter?”

“Because she must like the feeling of being fucked by fabric. I mean, who the fuck buys their clothes so damn short and tight that they would risk a yeast infection just from sneezing?! I can just see the headline now: ‘Woman gives birth to a latex baby named Gingham… No seriously, America!’ Stupid heifer!” We all break out in laughter as Daphne rants on. “That idiot just set the women’s rights movement back to Video Ho.”

“Speaking of ‘Ho’, we heard Lindsay’s here,” Hunter snickered. “What’s up her flat ass this time?”

“Plenty, and none of it pleasurable for her. The first thing that’s chapping her ass is that I’m home to stay. You both might as well know that she and Michael have joined forces to wreak havoc on my life, and my life with Brian- which in this case are two separate things. We finally announced to the public yesterday that Brian and I have been Legal Domestic Partners since before I left for New York. It’s a situation we definitely know she wouldn’t have wanted to be made public. And although we would have preferred to keep the our decision private between us, the fact that it’s no longer a secret gives us at least a modicum of security in that whatever Lindsay promised in order to get me to New York in the first place has no chance in hell of happening. Which brings me to the second issue...”

“Which is?” Daphne asks, processing the entire scenario of Brian and I were in our relationship at the time, leading us up to how we are now. It’s not hard to see her wheels turning.

“Lindsay has attached her name to mine, and has been acting as my agent, promising my appearance at several functions for her cunty friends where I have no intention of appearing. She’s already tried to impersonate Miranda to remove me from the competition, which backfired since the receptionist put Miranda on the phone to deal with her personally. Third, is that she has also tried to act as my pimp for the same reason, beginning with telling that rat-bastard Simon Caswell that Brian and I were no longer a couple so that the idiot would make moves to take his place. As if! But anyway, I’m pretty sure that there have been others she’s alluded to that I’m available and ripe for plucking, which is another reason that Brian and me going public was a good idea. And the fourth and final thing that’s going to rankle big time is that she’s now entered a contest she has absolutely NO CHANCE of winning simply to annoy the fuck out of me.”

“What was her purpose in doing that?” Hunter asks, just as confused as the rest of us were at first.

“Her ultimate belief is that if I don’t win, I should fire Miranda and hire her to run my career,” I answer.

“She needs to put the crack-pipe down! Or should we call her Lady Heroin? I hear its effects are faster and more potent since it goes right to the brain’s control center,” Daphne says.

I snicker before responding. “I told her that, in not so many words, but when has Lindsay ever listened, especially if she thinks her actions are for the greater good, and not just her own benefit? Well due to the fact that she lied publicly, she’s now going to be put in a position where she has to prove herself.”

“What are her chances?” Hunter asks.

“In an intense competition where the contestants are elite artists in Hollywood, and the current darling of the Fine Arts community? NONE! But that won’t stop her from trying. It doesn’t help that Stacy Peete is also here.”

Daphne gasps. “That psycho, chronically-PMSing chick who tried to make your life hell during the botched filming of Rage?!”

“That’s the one. Oh, and I’m pretty sure that Lindsay is going to enlist Michael to be her assistant.”

“Michael? As in Novotny-Bruckner? Michael, who couldn’t think his way out of a paper bag opened at both ends Michael?”

“One and the same, although his last name is back to being just Novotny- or it will be very soon at any rate. Ben kicked him out and then sold the house to me and Justin,” Brian interjected.

“Well finally he wised up about it,” Hunter said, without a trace of the expected sadness we thought would be in his voice. “I told him before I left that Michael was only using him, and that he should get away from the man as soon as possible. It’s not that Michael is all that bad, just no good for Ben.”

“No, Hunter. He’s worse than you could imagine now,” Brian tells him. “He stole from Justin, and when we found out about it… well, let’s just say that he’s lucky Justin opted to buy him out of the comic, instead of putting his ass in jail where he belongs. Meanwhile, he’d been sending money to Lindsay, but not for Jenny. In fact, it was to fund Lindsay’s extracurricular pursuits, including spying on me and Justin at Lindsay’s behest. Ultimately, their actions had put Melanie in the bind of trying to support them all, which in turn caused her to have to move back to Pittsburgh. There’s a lot more going on, but we should get you two set up first before filling you in on the rest.”

“Make sure you tell me about it later, dude,” Hunter advises. “If I know Michael, when he finds out that I’m back here, I’ll need to be prepared for whatever shit he’s apt to try. That especially includes him attempting to get me to take his side in the war he’s sure to wage against Ben for leaving him. It will be the live show of the classic poor, victimized Michael routine; I know it all too well.”

“What makes you so sure there’s going to be a war waged?” Daph asks him. “From what we’ve heard so far, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“Because in Michael’s world, it’s okay if he has things, like a relationship. But the thing that’s always pissed him off is that Brian got into one with Justin, Ted rekindled his with Blake, and if word on the street is correct, Drew has given up a sexual smorgasbord for a commitment with Emmett. So like I said, the fact that Ben LEFT Michael and not the other way around is going to piss him off in a major way. Him leaving Ben would have acceptable if only to keep his illusion of dignity, which, let’s be honest… he doesn’t have any. But an infinitely-patient man such as Ben calling it quits lets everyone know that Michael as a whole person is sorely lacking in everything from intelligence and integrity, to his inability to face reality.”

“Sounds like we will have our work cut out for us acting as your assistants, Jus,” Daphne states, and already I can see the light of battle gleaming in her eyes.

“It will certainly not be a dull moment. But there is one more thing you two need to be aware of.”

Brian clears his throat. “While you, Hunter, will be Justin’s version of Cynthia here at the office, Daphne will be with him alongside Miranda. The only people you are required to answer to besides me and Justin will be Cynthia, Miranda, Melanie…”

“Mel?” Hunter asks.

“Yes, since she’ll be training you. Also on the list is Ted, and you’ll be able to conference with Murphy should the need arise since the Art Department is all going to be under the JTD portion of the business. The reason I am telling you this is because by now Michael and Lindsay would have received the packets advising that they are banned from Woody’s, Babylon, the Diner, Kinnetik JTD, the Loft, Michael’s former abode on Empress Lane, and that rat-infested amusement park formerly known as Red Cape Comics. I won’t put it past either of them to disregard what they are being told and put in an appearance at any of these places, simply because it did not come over officially as a restraining order. I didn’t want to do that yet because I wanted them to have a fair warning first; so that when they are arrested for trespassing, or perhaps more, they will not be able to say ‘I didn’t know’ or some of the other well-fed bullshit superman antics they will try.”

“So it’s setting them up in a way that they can’t scream of entrapment later?” Daphne asks, smiling. “This has your fingerprints all over it, Justin.”

I smile back. “Well, what can I say? I learned from the Master,” I answer, and grab Brian around the neck to kiss him softly upon the lips. I break away before we get too heavily involved to impart some other information to Hunter. “So, dude, I’m going to walk you around to meet everyone and explain your true job function before I have to be at the Alwin building. You will also have the largest office, across the hall from mine, so you need to make a preliminary list of everything you need and get it to Cynthia and Ted immediately.”

“Cool! Can I have it set up exactly like yours?”

I laugh. “Not quite, since you won’t be able to have a full en suite attached to your office. But in terms of a sofa and a fireplace, sure. The only other thing that I will request is that your entire office doesn’t resemble a dungeon or a law library. There are already built-in shelving units that can serve as your research area. You will also need to have a conference table for meetings with the administrative staff that you are going to be in charge of, once we finish the hiring process. I would advise that you confer with Cynthia about the criteria of that. All the other heads of departments, I will have to hire personally, but it will be your job to weed out the riff raff, even if they are coming from temp agencies, and do thorough investigations on the candidates we’re considering for permanent employment here. Does it sound like something you can handle?”

“You bet your bubble-butt I can handle this, Blondie. No one has a wider range of bullshit detector than I do, except for maybe you and Brian. I won’t fail at this, and thanks in advance for the vote of confidence.”

“Trust me, Kid. If Justin and I didn’t think you could live up to our expectations, you wouldn’t have ever been offered the position. One more thing though, watch the people who will be working for Justin closely,” Brian tells him.

“I thought that went without saying.”

“It does, but they will try to see just what they can do under the radar of your notice. There’s a reason that Cynthia is both respected and feared within these walls. There’s nothing that happens within this office that escapes her notice, regardless of whether she addresses it immediately or not. Take note of everything, no matter how minute, especially now that they will be under Justin’s field of the company. Not many people know him personally, or the way he works, but you do. Make sure they know it, and don’t worry about stepping on any toes. Justin and I will back your decisions no matter what, as long as you can explain your reasoning in full detail to us. Cynthia, Mel, and Ted are the only three you have to regard as if it’s me and Justin speaking to you directly. Remember that!”

“I will. And the benefits package?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Hunter returned Brian’s comment with a shrewd look and raised eyebrow, causing all of us to laugh. “Don’t worry about it, youngster. You and Daphne will be just under Cynthia’s pay grade at $150k each with the standard bonuses and raises accordingly, full medical, dental, and vision benefits, as well as a clothing allowance, which my top-level execs receive since you both will represent Kinnetik JTD. Also keep in mind that your jobs are not the standard nine-to-fives so you will also have the benefit of a company car to use. The coverage will be under Kinnetik JTD as well. This is far from an entry-level position, and trust me, you’ll earn every single bit of it. Between you and Daphne, you have to maintain contact with Cynthia and each other to coordinate all of Justin’s schedules with mine. That may include taking calls from our overseas clients at all hours.”

“When a client decides that it’s important, they never seem to give thought to American time zones,” Justin added, wryly.

“So as I’ve said, you both are going to earn every single copper penny we’re going to pay you. Still interested?” Brian asks.

Daph and Hunter look at each with a sense of wonder, before Daphne answers for them both. “How can you even ask that? Let’s get started!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

DASH AVENUE APARTMENTS

LINDSAY

Laying in my room, I’m loathe to have to face the little bastard I live with. I can’t believe how all of my carefully-laid plans for when I finally pressured Melanie into returning to Pittsburgh are turning out. It makes no sense! She was never supposed to find out about about Charles and Mimi. Which brings me to the question: how the fuck did Melanie find out? I’ve wracked my brain over and over again, trying to figure out what I’ve missed, if anything. But I keep drawing a blank.

Okay, so I lied to them when I said that my partner knew about my affair with them, and that we had an open relationship. I mean, if it worked for Brian whenever he was asked about Justin, why not for me too? I’ll admit that I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, until Mel’s mutterings about some law while we were fighting about going to see Sam’s show in New York. Thank goodness Michael came through for me that weekend, otherwise I would have been stuck with a bitter Melanie and her screeching mini-me, since JR wasn’t feeling well. Anyway, I thought I had covered my shit pretty well… at least I did until we arrived back here.

I would accuse Justin of telling Melanie about seeing me in New York, but I don’t think he recognized me at the time. Whereas I usually wear my own hair down, I had donned a red wig cut in a short bob and a pair of stylish non-prescription glasses as a disguise, of sorts. He was there with that fucking Miranda, and had left the show after putting in an appearance for about a half hour. Of course, I could have explained away my presence if I had been discovered since I was still working at the museum at the time. Not that I think he would have bought that as a reason, considering it was Sam’s show and all. But I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing some vital piece of information, which led to Melanie finding out about Charles and Mimi.

The insistent knocking at my bedroom door interrupts my musings. “Lindsay? Are you awake? We need to talk!” Michael’s whine is as loud as if he’s in the same room with me, as opposed to being on the other side of the door. Curse Brian and Melanie for making me have to stay with him!

“Well if I was sleeping, I’m sure not doing so now, Michael. You might as well come in,” I say, pulling the duvet higher up to cover my nudity. I had to relieve myself in the middle of the night, and again this morning, after yet another reminiscence of my college fling with Brian. To know that Justin is getting all of Brian’s talents is infuriating in the extreme. But at least he can't take away that Brian did indeed make love to me on that long ago night.

I huff at the idiot still standing at the door when he knocks again. “Come in, Michael!”

He opens the door and I instantly want to hurl the brush next to my bed at him. “I would have thought you’d be up and dressed by now. And what’s that smell?”

I just stare at him for a moment, while he stands there sniffing the air. “Well, what is it that you want, Michael?”

He shakes his head, obviously bringing himself back from wherever his peabrain took him. “I thought we should talk about what’s going to happen this afternoon at the competition.”

“What do you mean what’s going to happen? Have you heard anything?”

“No. But that’s just it, too. I went to one of the other cafes this morning, since for whatever reason, I’m no longer allowed at the Diner. Some of the other contestants were there, and they said that there were some preliminary competitions being set up- one of which is supposed to be this afternoon after you all set up your workstations.”

“Did they say which one it is?”

“No, they didn’t. Or if they did, I couldn’t hear them. Besides, there were a bunch of heteros in there; I was too uncomfortable to really pay attention.”

I roll my eyes heavenward before responding. “Michael, they are people just like the rest of us. I mean, you’ve been around several heteros throughout your illustrious career at the Big Q.”

“That’s not the point, Lindsay. I haven’t had to be in the closet for a long time. Working down on Liberty didn't force me to do that again.”

“And you don’t now.”

“Look, whatever... The point is that you need to get the hell out of bed and find out what the hell competition you’re competing in this afternoon! Hopefully, it won’t be something we have to pay a model for.”

“Wel, first things first. We need to go to the art supply store again.”

“What are you talking about this time?! I thought you said that they give you that stuff for free. Besides, I just bought you a kit yesterday!”

“Be that as it may, Michael, you have to understand that as a professional artist, I’m expected to have a lot more stuff than the paltry things you picked up for me yesterday. It would be different if I knew what we needed to prepare for today, but I don’t. So that means you’re going to have to open your wallet just a smidge wider so that I can prepare for every eventuality.” At his look of disbelief and almost-voiced protest, I shush him and wheedle. “Michael… come on. You know this is important. Besides, depending on what the first prelim is, it could mean that Brian will be free so you can talk to him. Isn’t my presence distracting Justin’s attention worth you spending a little cash if it clears the way to Brian for our benefit?”

After a few moments of silence, and the hamster in his head getting back on the wheel after a very long rest, he answers with a smile. “Alright, Lindsay. But keep in mind that you’ll be paying me back after this bullshit is over with. Also bear in mind that we are working with limited funds at the moment, so I have to be careful of what I am spending. Plus I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“A lawyer? What for?”

“Hello! Remember me?! Ben is trying to gyp me out of alimony. I need to speak to someone who will advise me how not to let that happen.”

“Michael, most consultations are free…”

“Not anymore they aren’t, Lindsay. This isn’t Canada, and whereas attorneys used to do free consultations, they’ve gotten wise and started charging. I can’t even use the lawyer that Ben had on retainer since he’s representing that Benedict Arnold soon-to-be ex of mine. I still can’t believe that he’s going to these lengths to keep everything for himself!”

“Well, Michael, just what did you contribute to the marriage? Monetarily, I mean?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted him to say it.

“Whatever I could.”

“Really? Because if I recall, anytime we asked for a loan with the exception of my excursion to New York or the P.I. work you paid for, you always said that you didn’t have any money. Yet, you always had some outstanding bid on some Wonder Wuss, or Bat Butt or some other such nonsense.”

“That’s Wonder Woman and Batman, Lindsay. And fuck you! I gave you money plenty of times!”

“No. Ben gave me money after you swindled it out of him using whatever excuse you could think of. That’s what you told me. So, how can you expect that you would get anything out of Ben?”

“The same way you expect to get something out of Melanie! Or don’t you plan on getting whatever you can from her?”

“Sure I do, but the difference is that I actually contributed to the household at times.”

"You mean when you weren’t using Gus’ child support for your extracurricular activities.” I gasp in shock at his pronouncement while he smirks. “Didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”

I snap my open mouth shut, and frown at him. “How do you?”

“Other than the fact that you talk too much, I heard some of the contestants gossiping about Mel and Leda this morning. Apparently, they were all hot and heavy at Babylon last night.”

“So she was at Babylon last night?”

“Yeah. Ma is keeping the kids for a few days while Mel moves into her new place.”

“New place, huh?” I narrow my eyes. “Any idea where it is? I think I need to pay Melanie a visit.”

“No, I don’t. Ma might know, though I’m not sure she’d tell either of us. Such betrayal!”

“Oh Michael, get over it! Your mother’s only loyalty left is to those turncoats who are apparently paying her bills. You and her have that wishy-washy mentality in common. Anyway, Brian and Justin obviously have her under their thumbs.”

“Well if that’s true, then Emmett and Ted are there, too. After you came in here, I went by Ted’s place last night… or should I say, what used to be his place. I have no idea where he lives now, and Emmett wasn’t at home.”

“There’s something fishy going on around here, and I think we need to do some investigating. But first, let’s get ready for this afternoon. I’m pretty sure that we’ll be able to glean some vital information at the competition site.”

He nods and leaves out of my room, closing the door behind him. So Ted and Em have joined forces with Brian and Justin, huh? Ted, I can understand, but Emmett… well, I used to be able to count on him to keep me up to date on the happenings around here when I’m not out and about. Perhaps it’s time to find out what he really knows about things concerning Brian, Justin, and Melanie. After all, I am Gus’ mother and should know where he lives, right? Someone better provide me with the answers I want, or there will surely be hell to pay!

CHAPTER 15: THE ORIGINAL DEFINITION OF C.U.N.T. MEETS THE NEW ONE: Take ONE

DAPHNE

“Now look at this little bastard here,” I muttered to myself as I see Michael and his sidekick in mediocrity come into the large workroom. 

He’s bogged down with package after package, as she swans next to him, talking his ear off about whatever bullshit she deems he should pay attention to. It’s already evident what his true role in her drama is meant to be… that of a glorified gofer and an all-around idiot to her whims. Well, he’s welcome to continue his trip upon the Imbecile Express. Although perhaps that should be renamed to the Caravan of Cuntville. I won’t hold my breath waiting for him to figure it out though.

Miranda comes to rest next to me, also watching the show. She also snickers as she hears Lindsay asking Michael if he’s listening to her. “If he was smart, now would be the time to go intentionally deaf and blind.”

I chuckle back. “Dumb is already a given, and not in its proper context.”

“So what do you think they are going to try first?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Brian will be here this afternoon, although it will be after he finishes a couple of things at Kinnetik.”

“But if Lindsay makes a move to speak with him, she’ll be thrown out of the competition immediately.”

“Why do you think she’s brought in Michael Mealymouth Novotny? If she can’t spew her own shit, the man with a chronic case of oral diarrhea certainly can,” I say, watching as she begins to browbeat Michael while she stands there directing him on how she wants everything set up. If there was ever a mix made in hell… 

“I suppose he’s simply taking her shit for the greater good?”

“Honey, you have no idea what his suffering for the greater good could entail.”

“And you do?”

“I grew up with Justin, so yes, I have an idea. The entitled world we’re from gives an education all its own. Too bad it’s going to take a hard fall or seven-hundred for Michael to get the message. Although, it might be worth the price of admission to watch.”

“Ah, just the person I wasn’t expecting to see here,” Lindsay says to me, looking at me as if she wants me to punch her in her elongated, snooty nose.

“Hell’s below, Lindsay,” I respond as a way of greeting.

“The word is HELLO, Daphne.”

“Yes, it is. And now I can provide the correct greeting to you as well. Now what can you do for me other than go away?”

She rolls her eyes and asks, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“Nunya.”

“Nunya?”

“Yes. Surely you know the shortened phrase for none of your damn business.”

“Of course I know it! In fact, I’m getting just a little tired of it being said in my direction.”

“Then perhaps you should get some business of your own to mind, and then it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

She huffs and deliberately ignores the warning in my voice. “Miranda, I thought this competition wasn’t open to the public. In that case, Daphne has no place here.”

“I beg to differ, since she has much more right to be here than your own... companion.”

“Michael is working as my assistant,” Lindsay responds haughtily.

“Oh really? And how are you paying him to do so?” I ask. “You know every person here has to sign a contract of confidentiality? Also, they have to be given an employment contract for services rendered, beyond what they may make during normal working conditions. So just how much are you paying Michael to be your ASSistant?”

“Michael and I have a private agreement,” she says, trying to maintain her bravado, although she’s paled a bit.

“Well it best become public posthaste then, because most of the makeup artists and other staff are under contract with SAG/AFTRA. It’s for insurance purposes, you understand,” I say, continually enjoying her discomfiture. If there’s one thing Lindsay Peterson is not known for it is planning ahead. 

“Since I was late coming to the competition circuit, I wasn’t made aware of any of those stipulations.”

“Perhaps it’s because you don’t belong here?” Miranda asks, sardonically. “But, be that as it may, Lindsay, I would suggest that you get your gofer registered before you’re disqualified simply because you didn’t meet all of the terms and conditions. By the way, you will have to pay an entry fee for entering the competition, since as you said, you are late with registration and were NOT invited to attend. Also there is a fee for registering Mr. Novotny so that he can become a part of SAG/AFTRA beyond the scope of this competition. Since he will certainly want to use his small notoriety beyond the scope of this television show, he’ll consider it a gift that you are sponsoring him in this way, don’t you think?”

“But if he’s paying…”

“Oh no, dear. That’s not how things are done within the scope of the competition. If you bring him in and he’s not already part of the organization, you’ll have to provide his fees both for registration and for employment. Now that’s not a problem for you, is it?”

“You should run along, Lindsay, and take care of that,” I inject, just to niggle her that little bit further.

“And why are you here again?”

“I’m Justin’s personal assistant, in case you missed the memo. So yes, I’m gainfully employed, unlike you and your little crony over there.”

She laughs sarcastically. “As if! I mean, look at you. You’re a nobody in this business. You’re not even qualified to clean his paint brushes!”

“No, that would be you. But to disabuse you of those notions of stupidity I see swirling in your tiny brain, let me list my credentials which make me HIGHLY QUALIFIED to act in this capacity for the artist known as Justin Taylor-KINNEY.” I take great pleasure in seeing her nostrils flare angrily at hearing Justin’s married name. “I graduated at the top of my class with a dual degree in Business Administration and Pre-Med. Then I graduated at the top of my class from Law School with a concentration in Contract Law.”

“But what does that have to do with Art?”

“I’m best friends with the ARTIST who created Rage…”

“Well, I’m working with the WRITER of said comic.”

“Writer? Bitch, bye! Michael couldn’t write his ABCs in alphabet soup, let alone come up with an original storyline that didn’t center on what he thought Brian and Justin’s relationship was. Sort of like you couldn’t draw if it wasn’t by way of using connect the dots.”

“I beg to differ since I am here…”

“The question is: for how long?”

Lindsay finally took the hint and took her flat ass over to her even flatter ass idiot. I couldn’t help humming the famous song from the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, as I watch the spit fly fast and furious between them. I can only assume from the incredulous looks, and rapid shaking of his head, that she’d just told him what he needed to do in order for her to stay in the competition. At first, I have to admit that I was proud of Michael sticking to his guns and realizing that this environment was NOT his ministry. But then that asshole-rific, idiotic, dreamy-eyed look came over his face, and I knew the man was once again stuck on stupid at Lindsay’s behest. 

“You owe me for this, Lindsay. And don’t think I’m not keeping a running tab of the money I’m putting out. Win or lose, you WILL pay me back!” Michael forcefully told her as he marched out of the room, presumably to go to the bank.

Noticing Lindsay’s smile, which resembled the most self-satisfied shark, Miranda comments, “Well, don’t that beat all. She really is a leech.”

“Yeah, she is. It’s just too bad that the idiot who should be singing ‘If I Only Had a Brain’ can’t see it. I’m willing to bet that all she had to do was mention being able to speak to Brian, and he went shit-stomping out of here to do her bidding.”

“Shit-stomping?”

“Yep. You never noticed how he always looks like he either crapped his pants or stepped in a load of shit while he’s walking. He would call it his determined walk, while the rest of us call it the post-pooper-scooper shuffle.”

Miranda laughs, and then asks, “Where’s the nearest bank to his from here?”

I thought for a moment and then realization dawned on me. “Oh shit, I’d better call Hunter. The nearest satellite branch of First National Bank is right across from the Kinnetik building. What do you want to bet that since he’ll be so near there, Michael won’t try to happen up inside the building?”

“I will not be taking that bet. I like my money too much,” Miranda answers sardonically, even as I pull my cell phone from my pocket.

I wait only for a few seconds as the call connects, but the minute he answers, I tell him, “Hey, Hunter. You have incoming, and just be prepared for the shit to fly your way…” 

HUNTER:

I listen intently as Daphne fills me in on the events since she arrived at the Alwin building a little while ago. It’s evident that Michael and Lindsay just cannot help themselves. They must always, ALWAYS, inject themselves into places they simply do not fit. I can’t even blame this on their individual upbringings at this point. It has to just be some asshole gene within them- a birth defect of some sort- which keeps them stuck in this perpetual cycle of cuntery!

“Mr. Montgomery…”

“Hunter. My name is Hunter, Charlene. Now what can I do for you?” I tell the receptionist.

“There’s a call on the line for Justin. Although he’s not in, it pertains to the furnishment of your office, so I thought that you might want to take it.”

“Thanks. Will do,” I say, as I head back over to my temporary desk. As I pick up the phone, I can’t help the little thrill which races through me. “Hunter Montgomery here.”

“I… I was expecting to speak with Justin.”

“He’s out of the office right now. But since it’s my office that is being furnished, our receptionist has put you through to me.”

“Listen, Kid. I want to speak with my son.”

It’s then that I know exactly who this is on the phone. “Mr. Taylor, as stated, that’s not possible right now as he is out of the office. I would ask if you wanted to leave a message, but since I’m sure that nothing you say will want to be heard by Justin, I’m going to do you a favor by simply hanging up and forgetting this small conversation ever happened.”

“Don’t you DARE hang up on me!”

“Look, Mr. Taylor. I have a father and you are NOT it. So kindly don’t think you have any say in what I do. Now this conversation is over!”

Before he has a chance to say anything else, I make good on my promise to hang up. Unfortunately, it’s apparent that there are more fires to be put out at the moment, as the commotion at the front desk reaches my ears. “Mr. Novotny, you were banned from the building! So no, you won’t be just bypassing into Mr. Taylor-Kinney’s office.”

“His name is Brian. Brian! BRIAAANNNNN!!!!!!” came the loud, whiny response. 

This must be the day for asshole fathers as I look upon the man who I used to consider one of mine, throwing a tantrum even five-year-olds might envy. I stand and watch him for a few more minutes, even as I dial Frank to make sure he’s in the lobby before I officially make my appearance known. If there is one thing this job is teaching me already, it’s that I don’t have to put up with bullshit from anyone. Already this morning, I had a meeting with the art department after Justin introduced me as his personal assistant for all things concerning Kinnetik JTD. So far the problems have been minimal, coming from a few people who knew me before. 

However, it was quickly established that I wouldn’t be playing their game of run-and-tell-that, when a warning was sufficiently written up and placed within their files immediately. I advised that although I would be fair, I wasn’t going to tolerate insubordination of any kind. Ironically, Murph applauded my efforts, even as he listened to the squawking coming from those disgruntled employees, who were already in danger of losing their jobs. Justin came back to the office, after receiving a phone call from both Cynthia and Murph, to tell me ‘good job’, since he’d known Brian had been having issues with those few idiots since the second week they’d been hired. I have to admit, it boosted my confidence.

But now I’m being forced to face the man who has taken great pleasure over the years in destroying it. I can’t help but feel a modicum of pity and fear for the boy I used to be, trying to claw his way out of the depths of my psyche. That Hunter was so quick to believe that Michael Novotny’s word was gospel since he’d heard the same ‘You’re useless’ diatribe from his own mother. But whereas that Hunter is still alive within me, this Hunter is much more self-assured, which is something neither Rita Montgomery or Michael Novotny ever bargained for. More the fool, them!

I stepped into the lobby, continuing to watch the scene unfold as Michael stands there, still arguing with the receptionist. He even has the nerve to threaten her job as if he has some power here. When he called her a useless, ignorant bitch, I’d heard enough! I step in between him and the woman, who looked as if she was about to take her stiletto heel off to drive it into the heart of the punkass bully any moment, saying, “Michael, I would say it was a pleasure to see you but… well, I don’t like to lie.”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?!” He spits at me.

“Working. Unlike yourself. The question is: what are you doing here?”

“What? You’re giving blowjobs as a high-priced hustler now?”

I smirk, already knowing that he would pull that shit out of his lame brain before this very short conversation would be through. As I said, I’m not the same boy who would have broken down in private at his reference to my past. “No, Michael. I’m not working as anything but what I am.”

“And just what are you?”

“The personal assistant of Justin Taylor-KINNEY within the halls of Kinnetik JTD, Incorporated. Now what are you, beyond an asshole and Lindsay’s personal bank?”

“How dare you?! You don’t get to talk to me that way! I’m your father!”

“NO! Benjamin James Bruckner is MY father! You are NOTHING but an insignificant little prick without a prick. Now, if you’re through causing an undue scene, it’s time for you to leave.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Michael sneered.

I shake my head at him. “As usual, what you should hear you don’t. Yet those satellite dishes on the side of your head hear everything that’s not your business. Michael, my advice is to get a life; stop being Lindsay’s little minion, and find some fucking sense. Frank, please show Mr. Novotny out, and next time he enters don’t hesitate to call the police immediately.”

“I’ll be back, and you can’t stop me!” Michael screeched, as Frank manhandled the squirming man I used to regard as important to me.

“And you will be arrested, so come on back if you want. As hard as it is for your undereducated ass to get a job now, it will be even harder when you have a record. After all, that fuck-off money is bound to run out; have fun letting Lindsay help you spend it.” I waved my middle finger as a final parting shot, closing out the last chapter of ‘Undesirable Parents’ in my life. 

Things were certainly looking up!

LINDSAY

What the hell is taking Michael so long?! He was supposed to be back here over a half an hour ago! How long does it take to go to the fucking bank?! The judges have already come in, and I just know we’re about to get our first assignments. I look over to the other corner of the room where the best lighting is, and want to scream. I should have known that Daphne would have secured that spot for her boss. What a crock of shit!

“Sorry I’m late getting back, Lindsay,” Michael says, coming in. I can tell he’s upset about something, but I don’t really have time to hear him whine and complain right now. 

Turning on my most congenial smile, I answer, “Oh that’s alright, Michael. I’m sure you have a good reason.”

“You’re damned right I do! I figured since I was over by Kinnetik that I would stop in and try to speak to Brian since his little lapdog should have been on his way here by then. But once again, the fucking receptionist wouldn’t let me past her. And then, you’ll never fucking guess who, of all people, was there ‘working’!”

I seriously do NOT have time for this shit, but I also can’t offend my heretofore-meal ticket of the moment. So I ask, “Well who was it, Michael? Someone new that we can use to help us?”

“NO! It was fucking HUNTER!”

“Your son Hunter?” I laugh. “Well what the hell was he doing there? Delivering lunch from the Diner? Or was he being lunch instead?”

“He’s no fucking son of mine! And no, Lindsay, apparently Justin hired his own personal Cynthia in the form of hustler boy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, that as that fucking teeny bopper is Justin’s personal assistant for his art, my ex-son is Justin’s personal assistant for Kinnetik JTD,” Michael grits out. I can tell he’s pissed that all of his dire predictions about Hunter’s future aren’t going to come to fruition. 

Trying to figure out a way to work this to our advantage, I smile at him. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much, Michael.”

“Why?”

“Because all we’ll need to do is find someone who will want to see Hunter fail as much as you do. Now if that ruins Justin’s business then…”

“Brian will certainly drop that blond boy ass faster than he would a hot potato! Oh, Lindsay, that’s genius. But who?”

“I can’t think of anyone with more than one axe to grind against Hunter than his own mother. Perhaps she’ll be willing to help set Hunter straight. After all, we have to protect Brian’s business so that when he finally comes back to his senses, and remembers who his true friends are, he’ll be willing to let Justin go for the sake of his own self-preservation. And we both know how much he values that.”

Michael grins up at me, and I swear he reminds me of a hyena. But instead of voicing that opinion, I just smiled back gently, while ushering him over to the registration table. No need to cut off my nose to spite my face, so to speak. There will be time enough for me to get rid of Michael permanently, but for now I need him to do what I can’t, without getting myself thrown out of here. There is simply too much at stake! 

But I can’t think of that right this second. Instead, I refocus back to the matter at hand. “Now that we have a plan in place there, Michael, it’s time to get you registered so I can set some wheels in motion here.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“To do my best in this competition, of course.”

“Well that’s a given, but I was talking about Boy Wonder.”

“You forget, Michael, that everything- and I mean EVERYTHING- is riding on my ability to make a strong showing. Once I’m able to do that, getting Justin’s ass to hightail it back to New York will be a cinch.”

“Yeah, well it better be since with this latest excursion to the bank, I have just under five grand left.”

“Oh, Michael. You have to look at the big picture. Besides, Brian will never see us homeless.”

“You really ought to talk to Melanie, Lindsay. You know, try to get back into her good graces. Then I can stay with the two of you while we deal with Brian’s little fucktoy.”

No sooner than Michael mentioned his suggestion is it that I see Mel and her Harley-tartlet, coming into the workspace. I’m tempted to go over there and cause another scene, but remembering the last time, I’m reluctant to do so. I pull Michael none too gently, just slightly to the left to guide us to the outskirts of the large area, instead of right up the middle where we were walking. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to us just now, which was initially my intention. But since they are heading over to where Justin is continually setting up, I think it’s better not to have any more delays.

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen, Michael.”

“Well why not? Surely, you can get her away from Leda; you did once before, didn’t you? Plus, I mean if you get back with Mel, maybe she will put in a good word to Brian and…”

“It just isn’t, okay?!” I nearly yell at his persistence. I really don’t want to have to explain everything to him again, especially the fact that there are still some unknown variables, who have been spilling my secrets to Melanie. Ooh, I would really love to know who told her about Charles and Mimi! That’s yet another axe I have to grind. “Well here we are, Michael. Let’s get this done so I can go set up.”  

Thankfully, we managed to get to the table of last minute registrations just in the nick of time, while avoiding detection. It would have been so much easier if we were able to stick to my original plan of making sure Justin and his watchbitches knew that their pronouncements about flouting the rules of the competition weren’t going to deter me from my ultimate goal of getting Justin’s ass out of here. There isn’t anyone ahead of us in line, but I guess there wouldn’t be since everyone has already pre-registered, and this is simply for last minute replacements. Before I can properly make the introductions, Michael is already speaking to the attendant. And wouldn’t you know it, he already sounds like the idiot he is.

“Look, I’m just here to register for the competition.”

“And I asked if you were an artist?” 

“Obviously not.”

“Then it isn’t up to you to register for the competition. However, you can register for SAG/AFTRA in which they will call you if you’re needed.”

“But I’m already working with one of the artists,” he whines, and I just want to chop him in the throat to shut him up. I figure I’d better take over this conversation before his screech has a chance to reach epic proportions.

“Hello, I’m Lindsay Peterson. I apologize for my assistant here. He will also be acting as my main model as well,” I say, smiling and turning on the charm.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, disinterestedly. “Well does he have any experience?”

“I’m right here, you know? And I can answer for myself,” Michael inserts as I try to shush him.

“Michael, please let me handle this. Forgive him; he’s not used to the way things are done in this arena. Now back to the matter at hand, no, he doesn’t have experience as a model.”

“Okay, but you do understand that no handicap is going to be given?”

“I’m not handicapped!” Michael screeches, and just as I feared, the room goes silent.

It isn’t hard to discern that everyone is looking at us, and I can feel the flame of embarrassment color my cheeks as I try to regain control of the situation. “Michael, he didn’t mean it in any derogatory way…”

“It sure felt like it.”

“But that’s not within the proper context.” Although he is certainly correct in thinking you have a limited brain capacity, you unduly arrogant ignoramus! is what I left unsaid. Taking a small deep breath I try to explain the term as I would to a fifth-grader. “Michael, the term handicap in this instance is in reference to providing a series of advantages during the competition. He’s simply stating that although you are new to this line of work, I won’t be given any special accommodations, such as extra time or to be judged on a sliding scale.”

“Oh, okay,” he responds, slightly mollified. “But…”

“No buts, Michael. Now let me finish up with this gentleman so we can get started. Okay?” At his nod, I turn back towards the man sitting here, chewing his gum in annoyance. And honestly, I can’t blame him, nor feel sorry for that masticated object taking the brunt of his impatience. “Apologies. We can continue now.”

“Okay, so how will you be paying him for his services?”

I swallow hard. “Pardon me, but I thought once he registered with the organization, he would receive payment from you all directly?”

“Ordinarily that would be the case, but not this time because he’s also going to be acting as your assistant. The reason we need to know that is for insurance purposes.”

“Insurance purposes?”

“Yes. It’s mainly so that if there is any payment dispute between the two of you, neither SAG/AFTRA, nor any of the sponsoring companies can be held liable to reimburse your employee in your stead.”

Suddenly, using Michael to save money during this endeavor doesn’t seem like such a good idea. I lie so that we can still get registered even as I try to figure out an avenue to make good on my false promise. “Michael and I will come to a private understanding, but he will at least receive minimum wage for his work of the day- be it as my assistant or my model.”

“That will be good, now all I need is for you to sign this form which states that fact.” He hands me a pen along with the contract I’m signing. Then he hands me several other forms, including the confidentiality agreement, and a form of liable in the event I have a wandering eye during the competition and decide to copy a certain style when producing my own work for the competition. That one really chapped my ass, because I was indeed planning to do a version of 'Who Did It Best' when challenging Justin's work directly at the judges' table. But this form clearly has stipulations concerning intellectual property and all that drivel. My heart sinks even further, after I sign those and hand them back to him. He then tells me, “Thank you, Ms. Peterson. Now it's time to get to business of the fees. The registration fee for this competition is three-hundred dollars.”

“Three-hundred dollars? What for?” Michael, once again, screeches drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“It is for basic insurance where once again, your employer agrees to cover any cost outside of the normal scope of potential injuries. It’s for the use of certain amenities such as electricity and water, since you’ll definitely want to wash off any makeup or paint used after the photoshoots and judges comments. Also, there is an additional fee of which at this level is two-hundred fifty dollars to get you registered into the SAG/AFTRA organization. It’s the standard rate of dues, which lasts for a year with the potential of unlimited work, provided that you are what the producers are looking for. Also, there is the matter of the registration fee for you, Ms. Peterson, which is an additional two-hundred dollars, since you did not register beforehand, nor were invited to participate in the competition from its inception.”

"Well how do you know I wasn't?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Because you aren't being sponsored by any studio or business the way these contestants are. Those who are auditioning as walk-ons will be sponsored directly by the Bloom Gallery, soon to be renamed the Bloom JTK Gallery at the end of the month."

Oh fuck! Justin just bought into the Bloom Gallery?! He's really gotta go!

I stood there in shock for a moment at all I'm being told, and my mind is reeling. First thing though is that I hadn’t realized, when I began all of this, that ruining Brian and Justin's alliance would be so expensive! And then with the contract I signed to pay Michael for his services… Well, I know the money-grubbing, penny-pinching asshole isn’t going to let the matter go so easily. Plus, there is the matter that Justin is basically becoming a fucking institution, even beyond the scope of my initial thoughts.

If I don't find a way to stop him in this arena alone, all of my plans and dreams of being Brian's wife while controlling Justin are going to be ground into dust! So reaching into Michael’s back pocket, I quickly yank his wallet out and pull out the requisite amount of money, before he even has a chance to register what happened. I swear, after all of this trauma, my plan had better work. It has to, otherwise I really will be up shit’s creek with a Michael Novotny-sized paddle! With that done, we head back over to my mediocre workstation to finish setting up, while Michael continues his squawking.

I’m so tempted to tell him to shut the fuck up or better yet, deck him! But I have to keep my mind on the endgame… well, mine at any rate. And if I can fuck up Michael’s life so royally to the point where he can’t come back into Brian’s, that will just be the added bonus in all of this chaos, now wouldn’t it? So yes, all of my actions thus far just have to succeed. After all, every single one of my plans are for my definition of the greater good.  

CHAPTER 16: THE ORIGINAL DEFINITION OF C.U.N.T. MEETS THE NEW ONE Take TWO

(Day One of Preliminary Competition)

RU

I can’t help but feel the anticipation in the air as these wonderful artists set up to begin this groundbreaking competition… well, most of them anyway. As I watch the latecomer to the competition and her obviously-inept companion, I can’t quite figure out her angle. I know that based on what we all heard yesterday, Lindsay Peterson may only be qualified to teach fingerpainting to preschool children. Yet she’s determined to be here among these elite artists within their chosen fields. Ordinarily, I would say that there is nothing wrong with ambition. Hell, if I’m honest, without me having the incredible drive I’ve displayed within my own career, there’s no telling where I might have ended up. But the fact that this venue is going to be internationally televised is what’s making her being here so puzzling to me. 

Is it that she’s simply trying to bulldoze her way into an arena she’s sorely unqualified for? Is it that she feels she has something to prove to more than just the Taylor faction? Is there some unnamed ghost she’s fighting? There are so many questions regarding her motivations. Since, if she doesn’t succeed as she so obviously hopes, she’s going to be laughed off the world’s stage, and not just locally. But then perhaps it’s the thrill of being notorious for something that’s driving her at this point. 

She’ll no longer be just the unidentified Felicia everyone has taken to saying ‘goodbye’ to. Instead, she will be known as Lindsay Peterson- Failure Extraordinaire. Because honestly, with this much seasoned talent in one room, there’s no way she can even place fourth as she stated last night. I can’t imagine how desperate for attention someone has to be in order to want that type of notoriety. It’s actually kind of sad.

Which brings me to the subject of her minion, and the idiotic scene he’d made just a short while ago. I’ve spoken to Brett and Connor about his motivation in going along with Lindsay, and I have to tell you that I just want to smack him back into reality. Brett told me of his short history with Michael Novotny; particularly about the man’s tendency to demand that things be done his way, and whine a person into submission when they aren’t. Sadly, I’ve known people like him throughout my career. They’re those people who think their talent- or lack thereof- gives them the right to treat people as property instead of human beings, often under the guise of friendship. 

I have to say that I’ve never liked folks like that, and in my former years would have had no problem taking those unfortunate souls down a peg or five hundred. In fact, some of those same people were around when I was performing all over the country, just trying to make a name for myself. However, as I came into my own within this industry, I also began to wonder why I attracted such desperate, mean-spirited people. And while I realized that I myself could be a bitch, it wasn’t for the sole purpose to make someone else’s life miserable, as I suspect is Michael Novotny’s true aim in all of this is, in regards to Justin, and ultimately Brian. Whereas my inherent bitchiness- and doesn't everyone have that side to them?- was more about self-advocating, his definitely seems more steeped in pure selfishness.   

One thing’s for certain: It’s going to be interesting to see if Lindsay and Michael implode, or pull together in what seems to be their ultimate goal. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that it’s to cause trouble for the art world’s latest Darling and his handsome husband. But there’s also the matter of their individual hidden agendas in all of this. While Lindsay seems to be pulling for Michael to have his black heart’s desire, I’m more apt to believe that he doesn’t yet have the full story. I can only hope that for his own sake, he realizes that fact before he burns all of his bridges… 

Including the one that leaves him without a penny to his name.

Because it’s more than obvious that leaving Michael broke and broken is definitely one of Lindsay’s goals. Well, enough introspection regarding the concern of idiots. It’s time to get this first round of prelims underway!

JUSTIN

Okay. So it’s NOT nice to laugh at the misfortunes of others. I mean, their load of crap can be yours tomorrow; it’s the way Karma works. But I wonder if there is an exception to that rule as I stand here watching Lindsay constantly harrangue and badger Michael. I mean, after all, they wouldn’t be making fools and nuisances of themselves if they weren’t trying every trick they could think of to interfere with our lives. It’s why, as of this moment, I can’t find one cell in my body that’s going to allow me any sympathy for them.

“Keep your head in the game and not on the assholes, Sunshine,” Brian leans down, whispering into my ear from behind. 

I didn’t even see him approach, even though I was aware he was here the second he entered the building. Sometimes, that uncanny ability to know when he’s within touching distance scares me. But even then, the anticipation of seeing him, of touching or tasting him which thrums through my blood upon his arrival, is as addictive as the most powerful drug. I clear my throat of the instant craving for him trying to claw its way out of my body into his. “I’m just watching the show like everyone else, Brian.”

“True, but trust me, they’re getting off on YOU watching. It gives them confirmation that you are undoubtedly aware of them. Trust me on this, Jus. The minute you stop giving them the attention they so obviously crave, they are going to pipe down on the antics. Of all the people in this room, you know I’m telling you the truth. And you have to have that kind of mentality all throughout this competition, as well. Remember that YOU are the professional here; not them.”

I know what he’s saying is correct, but part of me wants to be childish and gloat. Part of me wants to laugh and smile and tease, but Brian’s right. I’m not only a professional artist here with a thriving career, but I’m also the ADULT. So no, I don’t have time for children’s games, but… “Just promise me one thing, Bri?”

“Tell me what you want me to promise first, and then I’ll decide if I can honor it,” he responds, and I want to both smack and kiss him at the same time. It’s something he’s always done, even in jest. He always wants to know what I’m asking him to agree to before he’ll automatically give his word not to try to stop me.

“I want your word that as long as I don’t become physically violent, that when the time is right, I can hit back just as hard as they are working to strike out against us.”

“It depends on what they do, but what do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet, but trust me that I’ll know the moment it needs to happen. And then you’ll be warned beforehand, although I promise that you won’t have to do damage control from my end of things. Deal?”

He smiles at me in place of his verbal promise, already knowing that whatever tactic I choose to use will seem completely innocent and out-of-left field, even if it’s already being calculated. The strange thing is that I don’t have anything lurking immediately just yet. Like I told Brian, I’ll know exactly what to do once Michael and Lindsay show their hands. As Brian pulls me into him and kisses my lips, softly at first and then with more passion, we’re interrupted by the loud ‘WHOOP-WHOOP’ coming from behind us. I laugh against his puckered lips, already knowing exactly what that sound means.

Cheryl Hargrave has entered the building! 

I turned quickly to catch the heat-seeking missile heading straight for me, reminded of the very first day I met her. As soon as she and I were introduced by Brett, her next words were “Catch Me”, and from that day to this one, it’s been our standard greeting. Cheryl is one of those most rare creatures in Hollywood- that which is unadulteratedly, unapologetically real! What you see is what you get with her. If she likes you, she’ll develop a relationship with you from the first moment you meet her.

But if she doesn’t… well, you’re shit out of luck because she’ll have no problem NOT letting you live in your delusion or comfort zone. In a lot of ways, it’s what drew me to her, since she reminds me of the man I fell in love with. It relieves my mind to know that, along with everyone else, Cheryl is taking this journey to greatness with me. And more importantly, that she’s not only going to be watching my back, but Brian’s as well.

“You’ve already been informed of everything that’s going on?”

“And you know it, Baby Boy. It’s why Miranda is hanging back and will greet me right after I do… Hey, Stud,” she addresses Brian, even while still holding onto me. Now, their first meeting was a trip if there ever was one, and I know from the wicked gleam in her sea green eyes that she’s about to do a recreation of it.

“Cheryl, my love. Got any sugar?” He responds, apparently already knowing what she’s up to.

“For you, Darling, there’s plenty.” And as I pass her from my arms to Brian’s, she wraps her arms around his neck and plants one helluva kiss on him.

Now if I was a jealous man, I would be feeling mighty insecure right now. Honestly, if either of them were straight, this kiss would be considered hetero-porn worthy, despite the Officer and A Gentleman pose they’re in. But since I know that Brian is unequivocally mine, just as Cheryl is irrevocably in love with Miranda, there’s not even a twinge of resentfulness. However, even without looking in their direction, I can feel the waves of malevolence being directed towards Cheryl from three people in this room. And obviously, I’m not alone in the feeling since Miranda comes to stand beside me to my right, just as Daphne flanks my left. 

As the kiss draws to a close, Cheryl pulls back from Brian, smacking her lips. “En tant qu aficionado embrassant, je dois vous dire que vous êtes un homme chanceux, bébé.” (As a kissing aficionado, I have to tell you that you are one lucky man, baby boy)

I’m about to answer her, when Brian decides to do it for both of us… and fuck if he isn’t HOT when he speaks french. “Nous ressentons la même chose en ce qui concerne Miranda. Et ce brillant à lèvres cerise bombe ... Ouais, belle touche, chérie.” (We feel the same in regards to Miranda. And that cherry bomb lip gloss... Yeah, nice touch, Sweetheart)

“Vraiment, Jus?! Vraiment, il parle aussi le français?!" Daphne asks, before declaring, "Oh putain d'enfer! Est-ce que c'est juste devenu CHAUD ici ou quoi?!" (Oh fucking hell! Did it just get HOT in here, or what?)

And whereas Miranda barely finds her voice to start humming the chorus ‘Fire’ from the Ohio Players, I just stare at Brian. He knows exactly what it does to me when he pulls out french, spanish, or italian. As Brian gently replaces Cheryl on her feet, she automatically reaches inside her jeans pocket and hands me the small tube. At first, I looked at it puzzled, but then at her raised eyebrow and small smirk, I opened the cap and squeezed a small amount onto my fingertip. Then never taking my eyes from his, I smear the dot onto my bottom lip before rubbing them together. 

“Embrasse moi,” I whispered.

There was no mistaking the message, nor Brian’s immediate response which was to pull me to him and devour me. Folks can call this unquenchable passion the honeymoon stage all they want. It doesn’t matter since I know it’s just the magic of me and him. Regardless of if everything was fine between Brian and I or not, this kind of need, want, and desire has only gotten more intense over the years. Even the screeching whine coming towards us ordering us to stop it as if it’s a police siren isn’t extinguishing this raging inferno beginning to burn within us. 

Before I can even register what’s happening, I’m lifted by those same strong arms that held my friend not even three minutes ago, and all I can do is hold on as Brian starts moving briskly towards the elevator across the room. I don’t even have to worry about being followed by the idiot brigade since anyone who just saw the heat in which Brian took my lips is going to WANT to see the evidence of where such an exchange inevitably leads. In other words, they are waiting to see me come back into the room thoroughly ravaged and debauched. And you know what? Considering the company within that room, I’m NOT minding that one damn bit!

“Où aller?” Brian growled in my ear, right before nipping at it. The moan that left me had to be loud enough for everyone to hear, even as I try to concentrate on his question of where we should go.

“Mmm... I can’t leave here right now, and no doubt that your fanclub of two will certainly give chase.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know this building.”

“True, but we have offices both downstairs and on the top floor, although they aren’t fully set up yet. However, I wouldn’t put it past them to have memorized the marquee. After all, they are going to work hard to try to corner you at every opportunity, regardless of the rules and whatever was stated within Lindsay’s set of papers. It’s why she has her mealymouthed mouthpiece tagging along so closely.”

He nods in acknowledgment, and then says, “You know, I don’t want to talk about them right now. I’d rather talk about all the ways my body is going to speak to yours in just a few moments.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, smiling seductively at the salacious gleam that has entered Brian’s eyes. 

“Yeah, which is why I’m taking my twat to le toit.” We both snicker at the irony of how closely related the two phrases sound, even if the latter means ‘the roof’ in french. It’s just another testament to the goofy humor we only find and appreciate with each other. 

As we alight from the elevator onto the top floor before climbing the short flight of stairs to the rooftop oasis very few know is up here, I decide to double back for a moment. Narrowing my eyes, I strategically press random buttons, including the ones for the floors our other offices are on. Not only will the dumbasses trying to give chase have to stop at every floor in between, but undoubtedly, they will press the stop button in the elevator so that they can get off and search the floor thoroughly before going back in to reach their final destination.

“Sunshine, what are you doing?” Brian asks me, as he pulls me against his body from behind.

“Buying us some seriously uninterrupted time. You don’t trust those Bozos any more than I do. And that’s especially true since we both know that Lindsay will yank Michael’s chain until he goes to do her bidding. Not that he would need much encouragement, considering the numerous times he’s actually broken into the loft while we were mid-fuck. I’m not in the mood today to have his beady eyes watching my ass ride your cock while daydreaming that he’s the one on your lap. The fucker probably has a flesh-toned dildo with your name written in Sharpie on it.” I quickly rethink pressing some of the buttons within the cab of the elevator and just press them all instead.

Brian shuddered at the imagery I’ve so obviously conjured within his mind. “Ouch, that thought is choking the hell out of my dick and brain right now, and not in any way that’s going to get you laid.”

I snicker and then step back, rubbing my ass all over his Armani-clad cock. “Well then, I suggest we rectify your problem immediately.”

Brian growls into my ear, before promptly turning me around to face him. “Well then, we should get started. Embrasse moi!”

And it’s always going to be my pleasure to kiss him.

MIRANDA

“Fuckers Idiot pral jis pa janm aprann, yo pral?” Daphne muttered, while watching the eternal trainwrecks of Michael Novotny and Lindsay Peterson scurry, trying to catch the closing elevator doors. Fortunately, they were blocked by Herman and Andy, the wonderful security guards that Brian and Justin had the forethought to hire for working the competition. 

It was initially thought that they would be needed solely for people trying to sneak into the competition site in an effort to get the scoop on what was happening behind the scenes that the public more than likely won’t see. Something about the undesirables not having a way to get in past the two human fortresses guarding the door. Besides, we didn’t want to compromise the intellectual properties and copyrighted designs of our illustrious contestants. Hence deep-sixing the idea of ‘Who did it best’. Sure, everyone is given a general category to begin their creative process with.

But now, with the current turn of events, two of the same type of troublemakers- Stacey Peete aside- that we were trying to keep out of here have been granted admittance based upon Lindsay’s lie. I looked over at the woman in question, as she turned her glare to Daphne. It’s more than obvious that she heard and understood the first two words of Daph’s rhetorical question. I mean, there’s only so many ways fucking idiots can be misinterpreted, even within the scope of a foreign language. But while it was also clear that she somewhat understood the initial exchange between Brian, Cheryl, and Justin, with what Daphne just said… Lindsay seems unsure all of a sudden. And as Daphne repeats her statement, I understand exactly why.

“Non, li evidan ke yo se sa ki grann mwen rele 'Aprann Hard.' Depi konbyen tan ou te pale kreyòl, Daphne?” I ask. The more I’m learning about Daphne Chanders, the more I find her fascinating. And the fact that not only does she speak French as if she was born and raised in France, but to speak this one fluently, too! WOW! “Ak konbyen lòt lang ou ka pale kouran?”

She smiles wide in surprise at me before answering. “I speak eight languages fluently, but Creole I’ve spoken just about all my life. My paternal grandmother was born and raised in the ninth ward of New Orleans, but her parents were Hatian immigrants. And although she and my father left Louisiana many years ago, they still spoke the language everyday while I was growing up.”

“How the hell did you get to be so accomplished at your age?” 

It doesn’t even seem like she should be the brainiac she so obviously is. She looks all sweet, playful and unassuming. But as soon as she opens her mouth, you learn not to underestimate her. No wonder she and Justin are best friends, since he comes across the exact same way. It makes them both intriguing and scary at the same time. 

“Remember I was going to be a doctor. So my parents insisted that I also study different languages in case I ever ran into a patient, and didn’t have immediate access to an interpreter. Those precious few seconds spent trying to figure out a way around the language barrier, could be crucial in saving their lives.”

“That was brilliant thinking on their parts. And in all honesty, I think your gift for foreign languages is going to come as a handy surprise here during the competition. But tell me, does Justin have the same skills in terms of language?”

“Pretty much since we grew up together, although I think he speaks nine languages now. It’s been a long time since I’ve asked him so that I could keep up. But as for how we got so good at learning languages it’s because we really only separated to attend our family’s vacations, or if we had to go home to our parents’ house. Even then we would spend most of the time honing the foreign language, while still concentrating on our course load from the advanced classes we were taking. Plus we’d still spend an hour or so on the phone afterwards, speaking in the new language we’d learned. So whatever I learned, I taught it to Justin and vice versa. We even developed a game in which we would start off in one language, then switch it in the middle of the conversation. It helped us to absorb the nuances of the languages faster.”

“That’s amazing! And it gives me an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Definitely,” I smile at her, and then begin to map out my plan for her. “Running this by Justin should be a cinch, but…”

“Whomever we work with will have to be well-versed in another language besides English and French, one that the two of us can speak fluently.” Daphne laughs. “I can just see the tears and tantrums now from both Tweedledee and Tweedleledumb. As you can see, their inherent intrusiveness is a disease they can’t be cured of through the normal channels. I mean, if it were up to me, I would just slam their big fucking nosy noses in a door jamb and have done with it. But since violence IS frowned upon, I think this will work much better.”

“Tell you what… let’s nab Cheryl, and then go hunting for some models. She knows a vast array of them due to her profession, and will be able to call some in at a moment’s notice since they all adore Justin. With this thought in mind, I know that Justin will be appreciative if we can get this started immediately. Surely among the Queens, there are a couple who are at least bilingual since most of them are internationally known. It’s all about finding the right combination to create the correct image and set the tone for the competition. Besides, there’s no telling how long Brian and Justin are going to be,” I say, wryly. 

In all honesty, I would rather be doing the same thing to Cheryl after that hot as fuck kiss with Brian, even if it was done between the most platonic of friends. However, after kissing me sensually, but all too briefly, she needed to go get her passes, both as a model and as a creative assistant. Everyone has to have them at all times if they expect to be let into the work area and mainstage- another way to keep imposters out. I roll my eyes at the scene the two biggest posers are continuing to make. I almost laugh as Michael feigns left and then right before making a beeline for the empty elevator that has opened up on the floor. 

The funny thing is that there is still no way to tell whether Brian and Justin have gone up or down in their escape. But I’m sure he’ll search the entire building in his quest to be an overbearing asshole once again. Lindsay’s admonishment to him to find Brian and Justin NOW, and her obvious frustration that she can’t join in his search is really chapping her ass. I don’t know whether to be relieved or sad that she didn’t take the bait in violating the terms of the verbal agreement in reference to the competition. But I don’t have time to examine the complexities of my feelings about Lindsay Peterson at this point. 

But then again, since I am representing one of Kinnetik’s owners, I can stoke a fire or two…

MICHAEL:

FUCKING HELL! This holdup is getting us NOWHERE! I don’t know what the hell they were saying, but it was obvious that Lindsay knew, especially when she whisper-yelled at me to stop them. I didn’t stop to think to ask her what she knew, just spurred into action to keep Brian from whisking Boy Wonder away to fuck their brains out. It’s like he didn’t even hear me yelling for him, which used to at least stop him in his tracks. It’s completely unacceptable and I’m not having this shit ANYMORE!

“Move out of my way!” I order the two big mountains blocking my progress to the elevators, along with my view of the numbers going up or down. 

“Since you don’t have clearance to go anywhere else within the building, the answer is NO,” the bigger of the two answered.

“He’s NOT playing! And I will call the police for unlawful detainment if you don’t let my employee through immediately,” Lindsay declared. 

Ordinarily, that particular tone she uses is the one I absolutely hate. It makes her sound like one of my most hated teachers from high school with the authority of my mom. But I have to admit that her using that particular voice seems to be most appropriate at this time, judging by the surprise on the two human mountains’ faces. It gives me yet another idea for the new comic that’s been stewing around in my brain to pitch to Brett and Connor. Speaking of which, where are they?

As Lindsay continues to stand here arguing with the guys, I decide to make a break for the elevator which just reopened on the floor we’re on. She sees me and calls out, smugly, “Make sure to call me when you find them. I really don’t give a shit about that bullshit piece of paper. It’s time that Brian and I get a few things straight about my expectations going forward.”

Before I can answer her though, that bitch Miranda jumps into our private conversation. “Then you must not care about your standing within this competition either, Lindsay. But more importantly, you must be willing to jeopardize your supposed standing within the art world as well. After all, you agreed to the stipulations laid out in those papers publicly, and at a press conference, no less. Surely, you read the entertainment section of today’s paper?”

“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” Lindsay asks through gritted teeth, clearly not happy at being reminded of whatever was in those papers.

“It actually has everything to do with what you’re trying to send your minion to accomplish. You’re BOTHERING Brian and Justin, which would mean that you lied about agreeing to the terms. As it is, your presence here at a competition you’re clearly not qualified for is disturbing enough on a professional level, and not because it’s YOU, the way you’re thinking. It’s that you’re about to make a fool of yourself on an international stage, which is bound to have the industry as a whole being talked about for the wrong reasons instead of getting it the very deserved recognition these phenomenal artists deserve. 

“But then again, that’s the selfishness inherent within you, so we all really shouldn’t be surprised. After all, according to some very reliable sources, you’ve spent your entire life trying to garner the attention you ‘deserve’, even if it is only within your insane brain. So we’ll just chalk this up to all publicity being good publicity for just about everyone else in the room. You on the other hand…”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her, looking as if she wanted to clock Miranda. I don’t blame her. It seems that Justin’s arrogance has rubbed off on the bitch in the worst way! But as I look at Lindsay, she refocuses on me. “Michael, find them.”

I nod once and enter the elevator which was just about to close. At the clank of the doors, I realize that all of the buttons had been pressed. FUCK! 

MIRANDA:

Once I walk back over to Daphne, who had just hung up her phone, she informs me with a small smirk on her lips, “They’ll be back even before the judges get to their table.” 

“What is it that you know about them that I don’t?”

Daphne smiles full-on then. “That ‘Action’ is NOT a word they take lightly.” 

“I’ll give you that, Daph, but what else?”

“Se sèlman ke ou te eseye sispann moun sòt a soti nan kite etaj la. Ki kantite ou vle parye ke li reyèlman pa ka swiv lòd Lindsay a? Mwen vle di san telefòn li, ak pas la ki se ale nan kou l 'pou re-antre ak tout …”

And I don’t even try to stop the laughter that bubbled out of me, knowing that Lindsay Peterson is about to have the worst first day ever recorded ANYWHERE. It’s so sad that Michael didn’t even remember his phone in his haste to leave, which we’ve all noticed now since it’s about to vibrate itself right off the workstation while blasting out the Superman theme, over and over again. But the thing that’s going to have Lindsay pissing bricks is that without the re-entry card, which was included in the disregarded packet next to the phone, there’s no way Michael is going to be able to act as her model for the competition. At least not today, since it’s written in the rules that the ID must be with the participants, their staff, and the Alwin’s crew-be it a direct employee or one of the many businesses setting up shop here- at all times within the building. Michael won’t even be able to hitch a ride with someone else on the elevator since once on the floor, there is another security check where the IDs are to be scanned before exiting the elevator.

And Daphne, the incredibly intelligent young woman that she is, has just advised the remotely-located security company to activate ALL the measures once Michael entered the elevator. As she said, I did try to warn him not to go, so really, it’s not my fault he and his bitchy boss didn’t listen. In fact, Andy even pointed out to Michael that he didn’t have clearance to travel anywhere within the building. Surely, the next question out of his mouth should have been ‘why not’ when it was clear that he was working with Lindsay. But as usual, neither of them actually thinks beyond their single brain-celled focus in order to ask the right questions, which would save them from completely looking like the assholes they are. 

I mean, it’s one thing for someone to think that about you, but to have Lindsay and Michael keep proving their idiocy… Well, it’s bound to be entertaining for the masses, while becoming boring and predictable for the rest of us. I wish she would just quit while she’s at least able to save one of the many faces she’s shown. Perhaps then someone would have been willing to take a little pity on her. After all, she’s been saddled with Michael Novotny as her only ally. But when has Lindsay Peterson ever been known to actually employ her gift of self-preservation at her own expense, instead of hiding behind others to do it on her behalf? 

Anyway, I would feel awful for her but… Nah! My feelings for and about Lindsay Peterson just aren’t set up that way. 

CHAPTER 17: TOE PICK

MICHAEL:

This has Justin’s petty ass written all over it! I begin to pace and cuss fiercely, even as the door opened the first time on a floor. I didn’t even realize which direction I had travelled, be it up or down. FUCK! I press the stop button in the cab before resolving to search the entire floor anyway. 

“BRIAN! BRIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!! STOP FUCKING THAT BRAT LONG ENOUGH TO ANSWER ME!” 

I stop long enough to try to see if I can hear any sounds other than my own echo. There’s nothing. Absolutely fucking NOTHING! So once again, I get back on the elevator to go to the next floor. Okay, so I’m going down. 

It stops on the next floor, and I repeat the same exercise that I had on the floor before. As I continue on my way down, I’m getting angrier and angrier. No doubt by now they are fucking hard, but… Well, I’ve interrupted them hundreds of times when they have been in the past. So maybe killing their runaway libidos will cause Boy fucking Wonder to mess up badly enough and HE will embarrass himself so much that he’ll take his ass back to New York where he fucking belongs. 

With that thought in mind, my mood sort of lightens even though I’m still pissed that I can’t find them on any floor that I’ve been searching. I don’t even know how many floors are in this fucking place anyway, since today was my first time inside the building. The final time the elevator opens, I find myself in the parking garage. This is something, at least! I mean, Brian and Justin have always loved public sex, and from the moans I hear in the distance, it’s possible that Brian decided that his slut deserved to be fucked out in the open. God knows how many times and people had seen Brian pumping into Justin’s ass against some wall or in an alley, which if you ask me, is very fitting for the whore Boy Wonder is.

If it were me, I would ALWAYS demand a bed. Brian owes me that, at the very least! It would distinguish ME from all his many tricks, especially that fucking blond. I could just imagine us making love slowly, and then finishing entwined in each other’s arms with sweet kisses. I would tell him I love him, even as I fall asleep with his cock still inside me. 

I never could do that with Ben, and not even with David, even though he would hold me, all wet and sticky. But I didn’t want those kinds of moments with either of them really; only Brian. And the fact that Justin allows Brian to fuck him whenever and wherever, instead of the way it would be in my fantasy, just proves to me that the little fucker has no self-worth and no shame. Brian deserves better than that little whore. I AM THE BETTER MAN; THE ONLY ONE WHO DESERVES BRIAN! 

Fuck, I really need to find them! NOW! This really can’t be allowed to continue, so I follow the increasing noises coming from the otherside of the parking garage. Um, it’s interesting that Boy Wonder has finally gotten over his aversion to them. Perhaps that’s something that needs to be thought about a little more. 

I shake myself from that line of thought since it’s too evil, even for me. But what other way would be more efficient in getting rid of Justin Taylor permanently? NO! No, I won’t go down that road, considering Brian nearly punched my head off just for me mentioning that incident a few years ago. And even though thinking about it isn’t necessarily a crime, it’s only a matter of time before it comes spilling out of my mouth... again.

And some secrets are better kept by never thinking about them.

Bottom line is I did what I thought was best at the time, just like I’m doing now in trying to get Boy fucking Wonder out of Brian’s life for good! I smile as I round the corner, thinking that I have finally caught up with my prey. But the smile quickly turns into a frown as I realize that it’s not Brian and Justin who I’ve caught in the act, but… OH MY GOD! HIM!

I head back in the other direction, nearly running for the elevator in my haste to get back to Lindsay to let her know that I’ve just seen Craig Taylor being fucked hard by one of the other artists in the competition. But when I reach the elevator, and press the button for reentry… Nothing happens. I keep pressing, but still nothing! It’s then that I notice a slit in the panel, reminiscent of where a key card to a hotel room would fit. 

Shit, I don’t have one of those, but maybe any kind of flat card would do? 

I start to feel around in each of my pockets, but… Fuck! Where the hell is my wallet?! I reach for my inside jacket pocket and feel my stomach drop down to my feet, because not only is my wallet missing, but so is my fucking phone. I close my eyes, realizing that in my haste to do Lindsay’s bidding in an effort to shut her the fuck up, I placed both items on the workstation that we were setting up. 

Which means she has access to whatever money I have left in my fucking Superman wallet. Oh shit! Oh, shit! The sweat is beginning to drip down the back of my neck as nausea roils through my stomach at the thought of Lindsay having access to… Hopefully, my all time hero- other than Captain Astro- will keep her from using her fucking x-ray vision, which undoubtedly is always zeroed in on MY money!

LINDSAY:

Oh, where the fuck is Michael? I swear, sending that idiot to do what only I could, continues to prove being one huge mistake after another. I can’t afford to keep making them. As it is, I’m handicapped by having to be saddled with that penny-pinching fool for this first competition. I don’t delude myself into thinking that whatever this first round is will go smoothly, because of having to use Michael as my model.   

He has no experience; he’s totally inept even at walking and chewing gum at the same time! There’s no way he’ll be able to do what I ask and hold his position for more than fifteen seconds at a time. But what other alternative do I have at this point? It’s not like I really thought all of this through before I allowed Miranda and Justin to goad me into accepting their terms. Besides, if I didn’t, I would have been disqualified even before today for sneaking into the closed press conference. 

Michael really needs to get his ass back here… and I mean NOW! With my luck, he’s probably whining them to death instead of getting their asses back here where I could distract Justin from doing a halfway decent job in the competition. I take a peek over to see what the others are doing, especially that fucking bitch who had her lips on my future husband. Hmm… maybe it’s time to make that little fact known. After all, she needs to understand that her place will NEVER be atop Brian Kinney!

With that thought in mind, I march over to the workstation being set up on the opposite side of the room. Admittedly, I can see that she’s an attractive woman… Well, in a Mel fixing the plumbing kind of way. The aviator jumpsuit and tee she’s wearing is in direct contrast to the… I gasp inwardly.

No, she did NOT pair that cheap outfit with a pair of Louboutin Grafiti high heeled boots! So not only is this chick going to be working with my nemesis, but she’s wearing a pair of boots that I’ve been coveting for more than a year?!?! OH HELL NO! Seeing her- a lowly assistant- in those shoes just makes me even more determined to remove Justin from Brian’s pockets; no doubt he used Brian’s money to get them for her!

Justin’s art isn’t, and will never be good enough to be able to afford those fucking shoes on his own! Even after he gets his ass back to New York, and I’ll see to it that he does, he'll still just be a starving artist. Under my watchful eyes, sabotaging him for awhile will teach him that he should never think beyond what I tell him to; just as what I planned for Brian will teach him the same long-overdue lesson. But right now, I have to get rid of the woman who thinks she can put her funky lips on MY MAN!

Watching her strut within the workspace, it’s not hard to see the undue arrogance in every stride. I see that I’m going to have to put her in her place in more ways than one. Reaching out, and tapping her on the shoulder, “Ah, excuse me,” I say, as she stands there with a notepad and pen. Apparently, she must be an inventory assistant or something.

“May I help you?” she asks, even as she continues to do whatever the hell it is she’s doing. Rude!

“Yes, I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time. I think you and I need to have a chat.”

“About?” This bitch still has yet to look at me as she pulls out yet another drawer of supplies. Oh, it’s time to teach THIS guttersnipe a lesson in manners!

I reach over and snatch the pad out of her hands before she could jot down another thing. At first she freezes, as if she can’t believe that I’d done it. But then she finally turns to look at me from over her shoulder. That’s right! I will NOT be ignored one second longer! “Now that I have your attention, I think it’s time we get something straight.”

She turns fully to me, removing her earrings as she does. I can’t help but follow the movement, noting how expensive they are. She narrows her eyes at me, before saying, “I’m going to tell you this ONE time, so you best listen closely. I already know what you are…”

“And just what is it you THINK you know about me, huh?”

She smirks, and I just want to slap it off her smug face. “That you are basically persona non grata around here. You’re obviously a bitch, who was cruising in some warped fantasy and started speeding. All that blonde-in-a-bottle and peroxide probably caused some damage to your one already frayed brain cell. So as my one good deed for the day, I’m going to give you a word of advice: Pump your motherfucking brakes before you accidentally-on-purpose run into the business end of my fist breaking that nosy nose of yours."

“Who do you think you are speaking to like that?!” I sputter. I couldn’t help it!

“I thought we already established that I’m talking to a NOBODY. I mean, so what, you were a drunk pity fuck many years ago, Lindsay. Get over it! Your mouth wasn’t a prayerbook then and your ass ain’t no Bible now. That would be like saying you had value and inbred wisdom, which it’s obvious you don’t since you’re over here trying to stake a claim that you’ve never had, and never will. 

“Riddle me this Joker- because honestly, that’s who you look like right now- how pathetic and desperate does one really have to be to keep trying? It’s been ten fucking years already! More than that, really. Hell, most people would have gotten the message that they weren’t wanted beyond friendship within six months, but no! Not you and your little Cousin It, who you order about as if he’s a robot. But then again, you both share the same brain cell so… 

“Anyway, since I’m now bored of this, I’m going to impart a reality check that I really think you need to hear from someone other than the people who have been saying the same thing for YEARS. Perhaps it will sound differently coming from me… Brian has steak and potatoes now, he left tuna alone in college. So now that we have established just WHAT you are, do yourself a huge favor, and stay the fuck away from us.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will be more than happy to show you what these shoes can really do. Got it?”

Before I can respond, a security guard approaches from the side. “Is there a problem, Ms. Hargrave?”

WHAT? What the fuck is he addressing this lowly assistant for?!

“Ah, excuse me…” I begin, only to be cut off.

“No, Andy. Miss Peterson was just about to hand me my board back before she ends up hurt in ways she cannot imagine. And then she’s going to go back over to her workstation on the OTHER side of the room. Aren’t you, Lindsay? Well, that is unless you want to get disqualified now for breaking the rules, and then of course, I will have no choice but to file a police report citing harassment, since I know for a fact you were handed papers that forbid you to even breathe in this direction.”

“You can’t threaten me!” I yell at her. Of course, that draws the attention of the people who I would rather not know I was over here.

“Be that as it may, Lindsay, I certainly can,” Daphne says, as she comes to stand by the bitch I intended to put in her place. “Do you want to see just how far I’m willing to go to do my job, while having your ass bounce when it hits the pavement outside? Please, say yes!” she begs me.

I huff, as I shove the clipboard into Andy’s abs, before rolling my eyes. I’m about to say something else, but the tall witch cuts me off. “Save it, Lindsay. I’m sure you don’t have anything to say that anyone would want to hear. But hey, while you’re standing here, you’re also wasting time. After all, it doesn’t look like your model has returned. Shouldn’t you be spending the time trying to track your flunky down, instead of trying to intimidate people who give you about as much importance as chewing gum?”

I want to gouge her eyes out, or at the very least, argue with her more. I wasn’t able to make my point to her! Rest assured, I will have my chance. No way is some lowly fucking wannabe going to get the best of me!  But unfortunately, she’s right about Michael’s continued absence.

Surely, he’s been able to stop Brian and Justin from fucking by now. I mean seriously, how hard could it be? Justin’s ass can’t be that fucking enthralling! When I reach my workspace, I damn near fall trying to avoid the ringing and buzzing phone which is currently vibrating across the floor. It’s not hard to know whose it is, since it’s playing a song just as annoying as its owner.

Not recognizing the number, I silence the fucking thing and put it at the back of the workstation. Hopefully, whomever was calling has gotten the message that Michael is unavailable. He and I really need to speak about that. When he’s here, I expect his full attention, unless of course he sees an opportunity to corner Brian alone without any of his bitches around him. So, because he’s going to have to focus on being my model, and keeping an eye on Justin’s area, his cellphone needs to be off! 

He has to be able to understand just how much I have riding on this… I mean, we. I can’t have Michael failing in any of the tasks I give him. I roll my eyes as I look at the clock, while noting that Brian and Justin have returned to the area, sans a militant midget pain-in-the-ass. WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL?!?!

And as Justin looks in my direction because he’s no doubt being filled in on the confrontation between me and the rude ASS-istants, I’m disconcerted by the smile gracing his kiss-swollen lips. Brian looks in my direction with the same look on his face, and again, my palm itches to smack the smugness from someone. As if Justin can hear my thoughts, he smiles brightly at my obvious discomfort. Something tells me that I will be receiving an addendum to the stack of drivel they sent to the apartment yesterday. The loud laughter from over there reaches my ears, and all I can think is…

I hate every last fucking one of you! It’s going to give me the biggest satisfaction to beat that little fucker in his own field of expertise. And then I’m going to make sure he gets on a fucking plane immediately. Then it will be time for Brian to remember just who holds all the cards to OUR son. And those are the only thoughts keeping me from going over there to destroy everything.

But I don't have time to worry about all of that right now. I can’t reach Michael with his phone here, ringing every fucking three minutes, and… Awww, the poor schmuck has left his SuperCuntMan wallet behind, huh? Well, if Michael doesn’t show up back here within the next few minutes, then I’ll be using some of the money in his wallet to contract a model for the day… and I most certainly will NOT be paying it back! 

CHAPTER 18: COURAGE, UNIQUENESS, NERVE, and TALENT… Some have IT… and then there’s HER

JUSTIN

Well, the prelims are underway, which means the squawking about the unfairness of it all has been nonstop for the past half hour. I mean, she was already given an advantage because her pet idiot has not returned. Admittedly, if it was anyone else, I might feel a little sorry for them. But such is not the case for Lindsay. She shouldn’t be here; hasn’t earned the RIGHT to be here! So as far as I’m concerned she’s reaping the consequences for bulldozing her way in. 

“Are you worried at all?” Cheryl whispers, as we do one final check before we begin.

“About who? Lindsay?”

“Yes and no. I mean Evil Mickey has been M.I.A. for a while now.”

I snicker. “Not my fault they didn’t bother to read the contents within the envelopes when Lorde handed them out. I’m sure it was one of the things he made sure to specify. But as per usual, Michael and Lindsay live by the motto: Rules are for others, instead of Experience is the BEST teacher.”

“Why Sunshine, you sound as though you don’t like them very much,” she teases, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What gave me away? Was it the way my lip automatically wants to curl like Sylvester Stallone’s when I speak to and about them? Or is it that my horns instantly outshine my halo whenever they are near?”

“A little of both, I suppose,” she answers. “I still can’t believe she has the audacity to complain, even after they gave her a handicap.”

Flashing back to an hour ago, I can’t help but reflect on the dulcet mix of whine, coo, and finally, screech. Brett laid out the rules, in which we have two models, and have to do two looks for them. The first one is a superhero look, while the other is total glam. Not only do we get to choose their outfits, but there is also a photoshoot, where at least one of the outfits has to be styled as if being featured in a magazine. But while the rest of us are completely looking forward to this, she who is being a pain in EVERYONE’S ASS decides to give a litany of complaints and her unsolicited opinions.

“Uh, forgive me, but I thought this competition was about art?” she says, looking around the group superiorly, as if there should be heads nodding in agreement.

“Drag IS an art form, Lindsay, one that is steadily gaining momentum into a mainstream form of entertainment,” Brett answers. Honestly, I admired his restraint at not simply dismissing her.

“Be that as it may, but this isn’t about that.”

“Have you ever really seen Drag in action, Lindsay?”

“Of course I have, but again, this competition isn’t affiliated with that! It’s just a bunch of men dressed as women, which has nothing to do with art.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong on so many levels, Lindsay,” Daphne interjects. “But then again, only a person lacking imagination would say that. I suppose that’s why the room is filled with professionals while still allowing the WASPzilla of Wishful Thinking to remain in their ACCOMPLISHED presence.”

“And just who asked for your opinion, Daphne? Shouldn’t you be swinging from a chandelier somewhere? It’s the only thing you’re really good for, much like your boss.”

“No, Lindsay, that’s your job… even though both sets of balls you’re trying to swing from have ‘NO VACANCY’ signs. That’s why you’ve latched onto your fellow flunky-in-failure. And just where is Michael anyway?

I huff a small laugh, as I remember Daphne’s very public verbal smack of reality to her. There was nothing she could refute with, since everyone here knew it to be the absolute truth. That’s the one thing very few people would expect of Daph though. She looks sweet as honey, but like Cheryl, she won’t let a person live in delusion. And that especially holds true if you’re Lindsay Peterson; we just simply don’t do well with termagents.

“That’s Lindsay for you, Cher. Always wanting things to accommodate her, regardless of the preparations each of us went through to show well during the competition.” Another one of her attention-seeking shrieks reaches our ears, and I just barely stop myself from going over there to slap her out of her supposed hysteria. 

“God, I wish that bitch would develop a sudden case of laryngitis and just shut the fuck up already!” Daphne exclaims.

Cheryl snickers, before pointing out, “You know both of you are going to have to suppress those violent tendencies; Justin in your case that would be again. It’s what is really going to separate you from them. While the both of you will just look completely unbothered by their antics, let the PITA Association constantly look churlish and constipated. Don’t forget that the world is watching. It simply will not be beneficial- both professionally and personally- to publicly provide anyone with a how-to manual on pushing your buttons.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I just wish they’d stop trying already. Brian and I are solid, and will remain so regardless of what they do. It’s just tiresome to keep having to deliver the message while curbing my naturally blunt nature.”

Daph whines, “But dammit, I want to be petty!”

Cheryl throws her head back and laughs loudly at both of us. “Well, you can’t. You, my little angel, are currently sitting on top of the art world and I have a feeling that you will remain there for many years to come. Daphne, you’re about to become known as Justin’s assistant, which means anyone who wants to work with him will have to go through you. Let those insignificant fools keep spinning their proverbial tires. Like all rubber, it eventually wears thin from over use. In the meantime, we have a plan, which is to win this thing. So let’s do that.”

Miranda comes over to the three of us with the models we’ve chosen for the day, Monet and Manilla. Both are at the top of their respective games right now having just come off of All-Stars 4 season, and are definitely perfect for what I have in mind. Both of them will be representing two of the mainstream comic book franchises, and they’ve given us the room to make an entire production out of the photoshoots if we want. So yes, I’m taking that option! Plus with the work Kinnetik JTD will be doing for Kell-Jam, this will certainly be good advertisement in the mainstream media area of the business.

As for the glam looks, that will be the real challenge for me since I’ve never done them. It’s times like this I’m actually glad Daphne and September used to drive me crazy with their Kevin Aucoin and Sam Fine obsessions during lunch. I mean seriously, any makeup artist- especially a MALE makeup artist- that can command $3500 for just one session is someone who deserves and needs to be emulated when it comes to the craft. Thankfully though, I have Cheryl with me, who also stays booked on Oscar night. It’s comforting to know that she’ll be here to guide me through that process.  

I greet both of my models for the day, and I’m delighted when they begin speaking in their chosen foreign language. Although I have to reach into the recesses of my memory to converse full-on with Manilla in Filipino, for Monet, it’s Creole, which causes me to look to Daphne. “You genius!”

She grins at me and says, “I figured since it’s close enough to French, but not quite proper it’s bound to aggravate little Ms. Plans. As for Filipino, I doubt she has ever even heard of the language.

“Problema mo ba ang matapang na asong iyon, Sweetie? (Trouble with that high sadity bitch, Sweetie)?” Manilla asks me.