He moves to the side and I enter the loft. He makes sure our bodies don’t come in contact with each other and I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or hurt by the gesture. I don’t know much of anything right now. I have to admit, I’m shocked that Brian actually invited me in. I mean, I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but I honestly didn’t think it was going to happen this way.


I look around at my surroundings. Everything is exactly the same as I remember it. The furniture is still the same and everything is in its right place, as can be expected from someone like Brian. I keep walking until I’m standing by the island in the kitchen. I turn back and see Brian closing the door. Though he tries to hide it, I see that he has trouble getting the heavy metal door to slide shut.  The thought of him being that weak sends an uneasy chill down my spine. He’s worse off than I expected he’d be.


I take this opportunity to take him in again. His arms are thin and they look fragile. His jeans don’t fit quite as perfectly as they once did, hanging lower on his hips due to the amount of weight he’s lost. His movements are slow and painful to watch. I wonder how long he’s been like this. I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes but I hurriedly blink them away before Brian sees. I take a deep breath as he walks into the kitchen.


“Want a drink or something?” he offers. I shake my head. He leans up against the counter, crosses his arms over his chest, and looks at me, waiting.


What should I say? What can I say? I’m sorry that I’m an asshole. I’m sorry I hurt you – again. I’m sorry you’re sick. Please tell me that you’re going to be okay. Tell me you aren’t going to let his disease take you out just yet. Tell me you’re going to fight like hell to get better. I miss you so bad it hurts. Please forgive me. I love you.


“How are you feeling?” I ask. Not quite what I wanted to say, but it’s probably the best place to start.


“I’m – alive,” he offers with a smirk. That trademark Brian Kinney smirk I’ve seen so many times but could never get sick of. That smirk that, even now, makes me weak in the knees. Underneath the pallor and pain, he’s still beautiful. He always has been and he always will be. There’s no one out there like Brian, no one that can compare. Trust me, I’ve looked.


I nod and offer a small smile. “I’m glad,” I whisper.


He hesitates and the smirk slowly dissipates. “So you said your mom called and told you about Deb?”


“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it. I just remember thinking there must’ve been some mistake. Not Debbie, she’s invincible. I guess I thought she’d live forever,” my voice breaks and I swallow hard to keep myself together. I can’t cry in front of Brian. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours has my mind reeling. It’s all weighing down on my shoulders and I’m fighting to keep it together, for Brian’s sake.


He nods. “I think we all thought that,” he begins. I can tell he’s still shocked and saddened by her death. Brian and Debbie had a closeness no one else could possibly understand, even me, and I know how much he must miss her. “I told her she was getting too old to be working at the diner, still pulling doubles every night, busting her ass doing fundraisers and rallies for the next gay cause, but she wouldn’t listen. She wore herself out. The doctors said her heart just couldn’t take it anymore. Too many years taking care of everyone else, I guess,” he ends with a sigh.


We’re silent for a moment before I decide I can’t take it anymore. “Did she know about the, um – d-did she know about you?” I ask and I’m sure he knows what I mean. He shakes his head slightly. “Who all knows then?”


He bites his bottom lip and looks at me a minute before answering with a shrug, “Just Gus and Michael,” he sighs again. “And you, apparently,” he adds with a scoff. “I thought that kid of mine could actually keep a secret.”


I don’t laugh. “Well I’m glad he can’t,” I tell him. “I wish I would’ve known sooner –“


“He’s gotten big, huh?” he asks suddenly.


The change of subject happens fast, but it doesn’t go by unnoticed. He’s evading what he knows is coming soon, something he doesn’t want to deal with, questions he doesn’t want to answer. “Who —Oh, Gus? Yeah, I couldn’t believe it. He’s all grown up now,” I shake my head. “Sixteen years old, damn, it seems like just yesterday we were running down the hospital corridor the night he was born.” I offer him a smile as I think back on that day – the day Brian and I met, the day that changed my life forever.


He huffs a laugh and looks down at the counter. I never would’ve thought having a conversation with Brian would be this awkward. It hurts me to see how far we’ve regressed to meaningless conversations set up to avoid getting right to the point. I want us back to the way we used to be, but I know it’s not his fault we’re like this. It’s mine; it’s my decision ten years ago leading up to this very moment I never thought would occur.


I decide it’s time we get to what I want to say to him. “Brian, listen, I want you to know that I’m sorr—“


He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. “Christ! I knew this was coming. Listen, Justin, don’t. Don’t apologize. Sorry’s –“


I cut him off, “Bullshit, I know.” I sigh. “Not this time. I was an asshole. You deserve an apology,” I insist.


He just shakes his head. “All you did was what was best for you at the time. You were looking out for yourself just like I always told you to. You did nothing wrong. “ He pauses, “Congratulations, by the way.”


“Congratulations?” I ask.


He smiles. “You’re a big fat fucking success, just as I expected. You’ve really done well for yourself,” he tells me.


I smile appreciatively. “Thank you. How did you know –“


“I have my ways.” Don’t I know it. “Your recent work is really – amazing, Sunshine,” he adds.


My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “How do you know what my recent work looks like?”


He gestures behind me toward the living room. Hanging on the wall is a piece I painted about a year ago and sold at a show in Geneva six months later. No fucking way. I glance back at Brian. “How did you –“


“I have my ways,” he says again with a small grin. I don’t pry anymore. If I knew Brian was at that show, I’d probably go crazy. Maybe he bought it some other way. I don’t want to think that he was there and I didn’t see him. I can’t believe he’s kept track of me after all this time. Maybe – no, I can’t think that way.


“I just – I wish I would’ve kept in contact with you, at least, but it was too hard. That’s why I ended it the way I did. It was really shitty of me and I can’t imagine how you felt about me back then. I just knew that if I answered your calls and heard your voice, I’d never go through with it. And I couldn’t see you, it would hurt too much.” It’s probably the most awful explanation I can offer, but it’s the only one I have.


For a couple of months after I left for New York, Brian and I talked on the phone daily. I missed him like crazy and he sounded more and more miserable each time I talked to him. I just figured that maybe it’d be better we weren’t tied to each other, if he wasn’t just sitting around waiting for me to come home. I didn’t want him to miss out on anything or feel obligated in any way, and I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. I wanted so badly to come home, but I knew I couldn’t just because I was homesick. I went out there to make it as an artist, and I couldn’t leave until I did just that.


New York was exciting. The people, the clubs, the atmosphere – it was all a bit overwhelming, but in such an amazing way. I guess I got caught up in it and eventually forgot about the people that were most important to me. These people are my family, and they were always in the back of my mind, but I was so young and I don’t think I knew exactly who I was yet. Once I succeeded at my goal, it was too late to come home. I thought everyone would be angry that I cut ties so suddenly. I stopped calling Brian after about two months. At the time, I told myself I was doing it for both of us. Now it seems like the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard of. I wouldn’t answer his calls or his emails and I didn’t come to visit. It only took another month before he gave up. We both knew it was over, and I hadn’t spoken to him again until today.


Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a heartless monster. I still missed Brian, more than I can explain. I think about him and even dream about him on a daily basis. I can’t even count how many times I picked up the phone to call him, but I never went through with it. I’ll admit it, I was a coward. I didn’t want to face the repercussions of my decisions. Once our lines of communication closed, I lost contact with everyone else as well; everyone except my mom.


Looking back on it all, I hate myself for what I did. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but nothing good came out of it. I lost my lover, my friends, and a great deal of my family. Sure, I’m a successful artist now, but there’s no question that I could’ve done that with the support of Brian and everyone else here in Pittsburgh. God, what was I thinking? And now, after everything I did, Brian is being so nice to me. I don’t deserve his kindness. I deserve to be kicked out of his life forever – however long that may be for him. The thought of that alone scares the hell out of me.


“Justin,” Brian’s voice tears me away from my thoughts. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. We never had any locks on our doors. You were always free to leave, and you did. That’s all it was.”


Now that makes me angry. “Oh, come off it Brian. No ties? We almost got married –“


“But we didn’t,” he states simply.


I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you dare try to tell me you didn’t give a shit, or that I didn’t hurt you by what I did.”


He sighs. “That’s not what I’m saying,” he’s starting to look really tired like he could fall asleep standing here in front of me.


“Then what are you saying?” I demand.


“I – I don’t know. I don’t know,” he says. He leans his weight against the counter and I notice his breathing is becoming ragged. He closes his eyes, hangs his head, and takes a deep breath.


Oh, shit. “Brian, are you okay?” I ask, becoming more worried by the second. I reach out to touch his arm but he pulls away before my hand comes in contact with him.


“I’m fine,” he whispers, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.


I don’t believe him. He looks like he’s going to pass out. I silently wonder why he won’t let me touch him, but I decided to respect his wishes and back off. “Come on, let’s sit down,” I offer. I start to back away toward the living room, making sure he’s going to come. He follows me to the sofa, a bit unsteady on his feet. Once he sits, I go back into the kitchen and get a bottle of water from the fridge for him. He takes it when I offer, but doesn’t look me in the eyes. He’s scaring the hell out of me.


“I’m fine,” he tells me again as if he could hear my thoughts.


“Ok,” I quietly agree and take a seat next to him, but not too close. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I feel like he’s on the verge of running away from me or shutting down emotionally. I really want to finish our conversation.


“What do you want to know?” he asks me after a few minutes of silence. He’s still not looking at me, but he sounds resigned. He’s willing to answer my questions, and for that I’m grateful, but I don’t know where to start.


“Everything,” I tell him. He huffs a laugh. He wants specifics, and my guess is that that’s because he doesn’t want to divulge anything I’m not going to ask him. “When did you find out?”


He’s silent again for awhile. I begin to think he isn’t going to tell me, that he decided to keep the details to himself, but then he starts to talk. “I found out I was positive five years ago. I was fine for awhile, but about a year ago I started noticing some strange symptoms, and that’s when I got diagnosed with AIDS,” he sighs and shakes his head. I decide not to ask about the symptoms; it’s not important. “Pretty ironic, huh? I guess I got what was coming to me after all those years of fucking around.”


I shake my head vehemently, “Brian, no. You didn’t deserve this. It isn’t your fault. You were one of the most careful people I knew. You never fucked anyone without a condom. I mean, it was you that taught me how important that was.” He can’t possibly believe he deserves AIDS.


“Yeah, and look where I am now. I obviously wasn’t careful enough,” he tells me. Always the logical one, he’s not going to let me convince him otherwise. “I just want you to know that – it happened after you. I wasn’t positive while you were here, so you don’t have to worry –“


“Shut up,” I cut him off. “I’m not worried about me. This isn’t about me.”


“I didn’t even get it from fucking,” he tells me with a humorless laugh. “I got it – I got it from a used needle. I didn’t know it had already been used, but –“


“Wait, a needle? What were you using a needle for?” I ask, confused.


He finally looks at me. “Does it matter?” he asks quietly. I shake my head. No, I guess it doesn’t. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. Not even your mom; I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t need anyone else pitying me or fawning over me. I get enough of that from Gus,” he huffs a laugh. “I keep telling him he needs to go home, but he won’t fucking listen. He thinks I need him here or something.”


“Do you?” I ask quietly.


He looks away again. “Maybe.” He sighs, and then begins again, “He’s too young to have to deal with this bullshit. He spends all his time trying to take care of me. I’m supposed to be taking care of him, I’m the father.”


“He wants to be here, Brian. He wouldn’t be if he didn’t. He wants to help you. Yeah, he’s young, but I think we all know he’s not a typical kid; he never was,” I finish. He just shrugs. He doesn’t believe he deserves to be taken care of, to be loved. Even after all these years, he didn’t think he deserved to be loved by his own son, let alone anyone else. If he only knew – “I won’t tell anyone, you can trust me,” I assure him.


He nods. “I do.” I know I don’t deserve his trust anymore, but I’m elated by the fact that he still trusts me.


“Gus mentioned something about -- Kaposi‘s Sarcoma?” I ask. I don’t want to leave anything out. I need to know it all. It may be selfish, but I just need to know as much as I can get out of him.


He nods. “Yeah, I got diagnosed a month ago. I’m pretty sure I’ve had it for longer, though. That’s just when the lesions started showing up.” I can tell he’s embarrassed again. I’m relieved to notice that he’s no longer out of breath, though he still looks exhausted.


“I don’t see any lesions,” I tell him. I really don’t. There’s nothing on his face or arms, but that’s all that’s visible over his jeans and white t-shirt.


He sighs. “I have them, believe me. Thank God they’re not on my face. I’d probably fucking kill myself,” he attempts a joke. I don’t laugh, and he notices. “Lighten up, Sunshine,” he tells me. “It’s not the end of the world.”


I shake my head. “Are you in treatment or –“


“No,” he states. I stare at him, waiting for more. “I’m on HAART, but nothing for the KS.”


“When does the treatment start?” I ask. Surely they’ll put him in radiation or chemo to treat the lesions. I remember how sick he got with the radiation for the testicular cancer, and I’d imagine this would be worse. I don’t even want to think about it, but whatever it takes –


He shrugs. “I’m not sure it will.”


“What do you mean by that?” I ask, not sure if I’m ready to hear the answer to that question.


He shakes his head, “I don’t know yet.”


My eyes widen as I realize what he’s saying. “Brian, you have to do treatment. You can’t just – give up,” I insist, raising my voice for the first time. He can’t just – no, he has to go to treatment. He’s not –


He sighs. “Justin, I’m not doing well. I’m bad off right now, and even with treatment, there’s no guarantee I’ll get any better. I’m going to die from this, sooner or later.”


“But you still have time. You can do something about this – people live for years with AIDS all the time. You’re acting like you’re going to die tomorrow, like it’s a certainty,” I stop when I notice I’m upsetting him. I need to calm down. I’m not helping matters at all by freaking out. I just can’t believe he’s not going to fight it. It’s like he’s accepted his fate and he has no plans to try to change it, or at least delay it, for as long as he can. It’s like – he doesn’t want to live.


I realize there’s no way I know what he’s going through, or what he’s gone through up to this point. I’ve been gone for ten years, and there’s no way I can know anything about his decision and what’s led up to it. I just want to grab him and beg him to do treatment, but I can’t. It’s his choice and I have no say in it whatsoever. I made sure of that a long time ago. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be – I just –“


He stops me. “I just haven’t made a decision yet, okay?” is his response. I nod and I know this conversation is over for now. “So,” he begins again, and I can tell he’s about to change the subject, “How are you?” he asks with a small smile.


I try to smile back. “I’m okay,” I tell him.


He tilts his head, “Just okay? Come on, Sunshine, you should be fabulous.” I attempt a laugh and shrug. He leans back against the back of the sofa. “So when are you going home?”


I know my flight is tomorrow morning, but I don’t tell him that. “Uh – open ended ticket, you know? I was thinking about staying for awhile. I really don’t have anything going on right now,” I explain. His eyes narrow slightly and I think he’s going to call me on my bullshit, but he just nods. I can’t go home now. I’m not just going to leave him after this. I know there’s nothing I can do to help, but maybe just being here –


He sits back up slowly with a groan of what I assume to be pain that he probably didn’t think I noticed. “Well, in that case, do you want to come over tomorrow?” he asks. “I’m kind of tired – haven’t slept much lately,” he offers as an explanation. He feels like shit, and I can tell. I decided I should leave so he can rest.


I nod, “Yeah, definitely. We should – hang out or something,” I laugh at how high school that sounds and he laughs back.


“Ok, let’s hang out,” he says, smirking.