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?