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.”