Justin stared at the man sitting across from him.  He took several deep breaths trying to stop himself from hyperventilating but only succeeded in sounding like he was at the doctor's office with a chest cold and the doctor was telling him to breathe deeply.  He chastised himself for thinking that he would be able to make it through the interviews with no complications.  He wished Carol would take this moment to walk in and interrupt them, but then she might find out his secret. 

He wondered fleetingly if this really was a secret.  Many artists, authors, painters as well as actors and actresses supported themselves in a similar fashion until they could make a living with their art. But he was different.  He was going to be in a show at a prestigious gallery.  What would they think if they knew that the artist they were planning on showcasing in a few months was a male exotic dancer?  He was no fool.  He knew that his dancing was going to be the downfall of his career before it even started. 

He swallowed hard as he tried to hold back his tears.  Bending his head down, he took a drink of his water and wished he could push time forward and be on the plane to Pittsburgh.

Of course Brian would want to know how the trip went and then he would have to tell him about the cancellation of the show due to his stripping and Brian would be mad because he was already furious about the stripping.  Shit!  Brian was always right and he should have just asked Brian for the money and then he wouldn't be in this situation-  sitting in front of a man who stalked him and now was a critic for his art work. 

Of course, there would not be any art work because Justin didn't have any time to paint before he was a dancer and all his time was just spent thinking of painting.  It was a mess.  And it was all his fault.  He wondered if he could salvage this disaster.  Would the critic still be as accepting now that he knew Justin as an artist?  He just wished that Carol had chosen a different person, one that didn't know his past and wanted to date him.  He wished again for Carol to walk in and save him from this horrible situation, but the door stayed firmly closed and the only noise in the room was the whine of the fluorescent lights.

Justin looked around the room, his personal death knoll.  He wanted to memorize the place so that in the years to come he could at least remember the office where his life dreams ended.  The walls were white, but each one held a large canvas showcasing the current artist in residence.  On one wall there was a large abstract with reds and blues; it reminded Justin of Van Gogh's Starry Starry Night but with different colors.  On another wall there was a painting of a child holding out a flower to an old man on a park bench.  The man was smiling at the gesture.  Justin wished he could trade places with the old man, be the one receiving a flower from a child.  He liked children, loved Gus and was thrilled to be a part of his life again.  He guessed he would be more prominent in his life now that his painting career was over, over before it even started.

Justin noticed the chairs in the room. The chairs were rounded, almost like a Papasan chair you would find at Pier I but these didn't have the requisite bamboo frame.  These were overstuffed and he felt enveloped by the chair; almost as if it were encircling him in its arms.  The only thing of comfort in the room.  A small table was in front of him and that is where his glass of water sat, almost empty now.  He was too overwrought to notice the pitcher that also sat on the table, but instead just played with the empty glass and occasionally brought it to his lips to take a sip from the empty container.  He looked out the large picture window seeing the cars moving along the street.  They looked like miniatures since the office was on the 27th floor.  He was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to hear the man sitting across from him.

"Mr. Taylor."  Tim Callen said his name a little louder this time.  He looked at the young artist and smiled at the way fate had been in his favor today.  He'd woken up before the alarm had gone off and when he went to pick up his daily cup of coffee, he only had to wait in line for 2 minutes versus the normal 7 or 8.  He'd caught the bus with only a 5 minute wait and there was actually a seat so he didn't have to stand the entire 20 minute ride.  And now, the piece de resistance.  He was going to interview the man that he'd been watching perform.  He had no idea that Mr. Taylor was an artist, but this did make sense as artists were just like many performers in the city, doing odd jobs, waiting tables or working as exotic dancers to earn enough so that they could break into their trade during the off hours.  This was the perfect opportunity for him to get to know the man he'd been watching.  This man had an exquisite body and he was talented to boot.  What a perfect combination.  He knew he would really enjoy the interview this morning.  Maybe now Mr. Taylor would go out with him, seeing that he was a legitimate candidate and worthy of his attentions.

Justin looked up at the critic and swallowed hard.  He looked at the pen and paper in his hand and the enigmatic smile on his face.  He supposed the man was trying to make him feel at ease, but he knew that would never happen.  This man had seen him in his underwear, a thong at that and while the old adage to just think of people in their underwear might be sage advice to a performer going on stage, it really didn't work in this situation.  This man had seen him in his underwear and watched him take his clothes off to get to the stage of undress.  There was little mystery there and he wondered how in the hell he was going to answer any of the man's questions when all he could see was himself dancing and gyrating at various parties with this man in the audience.  He felt like a robbery victim, his personal space violated. 

He couldn't take the chance of Carol coming in and asking why he didn't complete the interview and he knew if he even wanted to try and salvage his career, he'd have to get through the next 20 minutes.  He drew a deep breath and thought of the hot reunion sex that he and Brian would have when he returned to Pittsburgh today and that made him smile.  Envisioning his partner coming into their bedroom only to find him spread eagled on the bed with his hole lubed and waiting for Brian.  He liked that picture and found it was a good reward for getting through the next twenty minutes.

Justin held out his hand and said, "I'm Justin Taylor and I guess we better do this.  I have a plane to catch."

"I'm Tim Callen and I work for Art Works.  How did you get started in the art world?"

"I've been going to art galleries since I was old enough to remember."

"What is your favorite medium?"

"I like computer generated art and I love to paint with acrylics, but oils are interesting when I want really bold colors."

"What do you paint?  Where do you get your inspiration?"

"I paint mostly abstracts."  Justin ignored the second portion of the question.  He did not want to share his inspiration with anyone but the man who was his inspiration, Brian Kinney.

"Have you always lived in New York?" These questions seemed appropriate and Justin felt himself relaxing, shedding his guard just lightly.

"No."                                                                                               

"Where did you live before New York?"

"I grew up in Pittsburgh."  He didn't want to elaborate and kept his answers purposely short.

"Pittsburgh.  They have an excellent art school, Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.  Did you attend there?"

"Yes."

Tim was getting irritated with Justin and his one word answers.  Surely this man would be willing to share more about himself so he would be able to write a favorable article.  He decided a more open question might suit his needs.

"What can you tell me about yourself?"

Justin looked around the room, trying to see if there were any hidden cameras.  He hated feeling vulnerable.  After the fiasco with the accident and his temporary memory loss, he was fearful of not remembering all his past and this question brought back all those insecurities that he'd been feeling for the last month since the accident.  Did he really know himself and how could he answer the question?  Was it a trick question for the man to delve into his private life?  Why did he agree to this crazy plan?

"What do you want to know?"  He hoped throwing the question back at the critic would narrow the information he would have to provide.

"Tell me about your family.  Any siblings?  What about your parents? Tell me about them.  Where did you attend school?  Is there a significant person in your life?"

Justin squirmed in his seat.  He'd been with this man for almost 15 minutes and the interviews were only supposed to last 20 minutes.  He really didn't like sharing his personal life with anyone, but especially this man.  The man who had followed him or at least appeared to do so for the last several months before his accident. 

"I have a sister.  My parents are divorced and there is someone significant in my life, but I'd like to keep my personal life private."

"You have a significant other.  The person is very lucky to have such a talented partner.  I would be very interested in meeting this person.  Maybe it can give me more insight into your art.  An artist's work often is a reflection of their personal life and your work is so vibrant."

Carol finally chose that moment to knock on the door and walk in.

"Justin, I just got off the phone with the editor of the Times.  He said his critic came back to the office just raving about your work and you.  I just know that this show will be magnificent."  Turning her head to look at Tim, she said, "Oh Tim, I hope that Justin has given you a good amount of material for your article.  You always have such positive things to say about our new artists."

"Justin and I were just getting started, but unfortunately we were delayed in our interview.  I guess I will have to set up a phone interview or a second face to face to finish it as I understand he has a plane to catch.  I'm sure he can give me his contact information."

A chill ran through Justin's body at the thought of Tim Callen having any of his contact information.  He wouldn't be able to hide from the man.

"I can stay a little longer, Mr. Callen.  I wouldn't want to put you out."

"Oh that would be great."

"I guess that is my cue to leave.  Good day, gentleman and I'll talk to you soon, Justin."  Carol left the small room and Justin gave Tim a glare.

"I've agreed to extend our interview for another 15 minutes so that you will not be inconvenienced by having to contact me to complete your assignment.  What else can I answer for you?"  Justin was all smiles and put on his country club manners, hoping to hide his horror of Carol volunteering to give out his personal information.

Tim rattled off several more questions about Justin's art, including his favorite piece, his dreams for the future of his art and how he comes up with the ideas for his pieces.  Tim thanked him for the extra time and gathered up his notebook.

"I look forward to seeing you at your opening in a few months.  I can't wait to see the whole set of pieces."  He stuck his hand out to shake Justin's hand and Justin continued to use his country club manners and shook his hand in return, even though he fought against that gesture.  

When Tim left the room, Justin was left in the silence and he allowed himself to feel for the first time in the last hour.  He put his head in his hands and sighed loudly.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"  He was regretting his decision to take things into his own hands.  He should have just asked Brian for the money and now he was truly screwed.  He couldn't just pretend anymore.  He'd have to tell Brian, tell him the whole truth.  He could just imagine that conversation.  He'd have to listen to Brian's tirade regarding his unwillingness to take his money and the repercussions of that decision.  Brian wasn't really one to throw things in his face, but in this instance, he could see Brian's face and anger as if he were already chastising him.

He picked up his bag and felt for his phone in his pocket.  He turned the phone on, looking at the small device.  Brian was always hounding him to keep it on and charged and now that his was both on and charged he desperately wanted to forget that little lesson.  He knew Brian would expect a call as soon as he finished the interviews and he didn't think he was ready for that conversation, not yet.  For once, he wanted to not channel his desire to share everything with Brian, hide his inner lesbian.  He needed to delay the truth just a little longer.

Grabbing a quick hot dog from the street vendor outside the building before making his way to the bus to take to the airport, Justin savored another genuine New York delight.  He did love the food in this city and now he wondered what would happen to their plans.  They hadn't signed the paperwork for the apartment, so maybe they could get out of it.  He knew that if they kept their apartment, Brian would regret the decision since Justin was not painting.  It would be a reminder of his biggest failure.  Justin felt a tear form in his eye, but wiped it away with his free hand.  He needed to get to the airport and back to Pittsburgh.

After he went through security he had an hour before the plane boarded.  He'd been on automatic  pilot until now but when he sat down at the gate, he reviewed the last few days.  He dug out his phone and pushed the button for Daphne.

"Hey.  You got a minute?" He asked tentatively.

"Sure.  My next client doesn't come in for half an hour.  What's up?  You sound freaked out?"

"Well remember that little problem I told you about?"

"The little problem?"

"The reason why I wanted to come back to Pittsburgh."

"Justin, tell me you did not run into the guy?" Daphne asked, the fear and incredulity in her voice obvious.

"Worse than that.  He's a critic for a local paper and I had to interview with him."

"Shit!"

"Shit is right.  What am I going do now?  Daph, I'm so screwed."

"Oh Justin.  My next client will be here any minute.  What time does your plane land?"

"3:00pm."

Daphne looked at her calendar for the afternoon and thanked the powers that be that her 3:00 had called earlier to cancel due to a family emergency.  Today was her short day and her 3:00 was her last appointment.

"Come to my office when you land.  I'm free the rest of the day."

"Daph, I promised Brian I would come to Kinnetik when I got back."

"Justin Taylor, do you or do you not want my help?"

"Okay.  I'll be there."

"You better."

Justin disconnected the call.  He had 10 minutes until he boarded the plane.  He scrolled up to #1 and pushed the button.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You getting ready to leave the Big Apple?"

"My plane boards in 10 minutes."

"I expect to see you spread eagled on our bed in Britin by 6:00.  I'll bring home some Thai."

"Uh.  I got to see Daphne.  She just called and said it was important.  I'll be home as soon as I can.  I promise."

"Okay.  But soon.  My dick is going into withdrawl."  He said as he envisioned their reunion after just a few days.

"Later."

"Later."

Brian looked at the phone and was tempted to call Daphne but decided against it.  Justin had long ago quit keeping secrets from him and he doubted that had changed.

TBC