BRIAN
I fold my arms and am immediately reminded of Michael. So unfold them even faster. I see that ghost of a smile playing on his lips and just about manage not to return it. “So, why have you been sulking?”
“I’ve not been well. I don’t react well to not being well.” He explains and my mind flashes back to boakgate and again, struggle not to smile.
Oh, this tiger certainly has his roar!
“I haven’t been well either and I didn’t throw a brat attack like you did earlier. Which, by the way, I didn’t like the inference of.”
“I gathered that when you called me Mr Sulky Pants! I didn't like that! It was because of you that I had flu!”
“Are you seriously blaming me for that?!” I glare at him and he glares back at me just as hotly. “You kissed me, I did not kiss you.”
“You didn’t stop me!”
“I was too busy being flummoxed by the fact that you kissed me!”
“I wouldn’t have had to kiss you if I wasn’t so mad! And that was your fault!”
I had been leaning quite calmly against the wall by the door. But now I am ramrod stiff and struggling to remain where I am. “How the hell is it my fault that you were mad at someone else?!”
“I was mad because you weren’t and you fucking well should’ve been!” He is sitting on his haunches with his hands on his hips, fists balled and chest heaving.
“You don’t get to tell me how to react to something! And for the love of fuck, take a few slow deep breaths before you faint again!”
“Don’t tell me how to breathe!” He shouts.
“Well don’t then and see how far you get!” I shout back.
“That has got to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” He snipes before turning his head away and almost sticking his nose up in the air.
“You are being ridiculous, so I speak to you in a language you understand!” I retort and then there is silence. I clear my throat. “Mr Slim, would you like a tissue? You appear to have the sniffles?” I just about manage to keep the laughter at the absurdity of this argument out of my voice, but he just shakes his head and refuses to look at me. “And you are shivering. Are you cold?”
“No. I am fine, thank... “
“You’re trying not to chiggle.” I tell him and this time, he does look at me.
“Chiggle?” He is biting the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling.
“Uh huh. It’s what Gus calls it when he says we laugh together. He says we chiggle.”
“Oh, that is just so…” He begins. “...no. You do not get to play the kid card! We are arguing here!”
“No, you are trying to justify your brat attack by buck passing. I am merely passing that buck back.”
“Buck...Mr Kinney! I have told you before that I will defend myself and that remark will be refuted!”
“Oh this should be interesting. How? Did you or did you not behave in a manner that had you worrying that I was going to refuse to work on your comic with you? And when you realised that was not the case, you fainted in relief?”
He opens his mouth and then closes it again, before raising his finger to make a point, but putting his hand back down. He sits down on his knees and then frowns hard.
“No matter what permutation you try, you did do exactly what I said you did. Didn’t you?” He gives the world’s smallest nod of concession. “And you got yourself into a lather over something I was handling perfectly well and…”
“Staying silent while someone covers you in shit is not handling it. It’s letting them bully you and being a cow…”
“Don’t you fucking dare call me a coward!” I bellow. He looks stunned and shrinks back a bit. “You have no idea what I am doing to deal with what you think you saw! You need to apologise just like they did, and right now!”
“They apologised?” He looks incredulous. “When?”
“Mr Taylor...you need to concentrate on your bullshit apology and not theirs!”
“Now just a fucking minute!” He yells, standing on my bed. “I never ever lie about being sorry, especially as I was so very wrong. I was wrong to almost call you that and for that I am sorry, truly sorry.”
“Get out, Mr Taylor. You are obviously feeling so much better!”
“Do you accept my apology?”
“Will it get you to leave quicker if I do?”
“Mr Kinney, do you accept it?”
There is something in his tone that takes all of the fight and anger out of me. I have made millions being able to read a person and sell them anything. He’s as angry right now as I am, but he is being honest. “Yes Mr Slim, I accept your apology.”
“I am also sorry for standing on your bed.” He says.
“Which you are still doing.” I point out.
“Oh!” He exclaims. But in his haste to get off, his feet get tangled up in the blankets and he starts to fall.
Unfortunately, I am too far away from him to stop him from landing in an undignified heap half on and half off the bed. I don’t say a word because I am too busy trying not to laugh as he bucks and twists to the floor while frantically trying to free his ankles from bedding.
“Don’t just stand there! Help me!” He demands, his face bright red and I approach the bed then freeze. I stare at his stomach and he goes still and immediately yanks his top back down.
But I pull it back up and stare in wonderment at the writing down his side. “Did it hurt?”
“Like fuck. I cried through the entire thing. Anywhere is painful, but ribs, are especially painful.”
“You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice. BM” I read it almost to myself before actually helping him up. “So what or why was it your only choice?”
“Nothing. I just like the quote. It’s by a hero of mine named Bob Marley. You most probably don’t know who he was. He was…”
“One of the most influential reggae musicians of all time. Wrote One Love, No Woman No Cry, Exodus, Redemption Song, Trenchtown Rock amongst others. Had great success both as a solo artist and with his band the Wailers. Like me, he loved the herb...or ‘erb as he pronounced it. Prolific fucker...had 9 kids, died of cancer in Florida. Nope, never heard of him.”
“Mr Kinney, you need to stop that as I am slightly ticklish there.”
“Stop what?” I frown and then realise I am stroking his side under his top. Once again, I find myself yanking my hand away from his body in embarrassment.
“I should go. Do you know what happened to my shoes?” He looks around and I point to the lounge.
After he locates his shoes and puts them on, he frowns at me, goes to say something but then changes his mind.
“Yes, Mr Slim. We can use chiggle in the comic.”
“Thank you, Mr Kinney.” He gathers his things and pulls open the door. “And I am truly sorry.”
“I know, Mr Slim. I know.”
As the door closes, he gives me a small smile.
“You gave yourself the flu!” I shout out.
“I know!” He shouts back.
ARTISAN TATTOO GALLERY - TWO HOURS LATER
BRIAN
I wince and almost tear my stress ball in half, but it is finally done. I sigh and check out my hand. I feel a bit woozy but incredibly proud and I know just the person to show it to!
JUSTIN’S PENTHOUSE - 40 MINUTES LATER
I stare at the building that Cynthia says he lives in. This rivals mine for prestige in area. I am about to walk away when the street door opens and I head in. Then something catches my eye. It’s small, but discrete and now I am well and truly pissed!
Unlike my loft building, there is no Graham so I head straight up to his quarters. I get there and knock on the door. When he opens it, he just stares at me.
“Can I come in Mr Taylor, heir apparent to Taylor Electronics?” He just steps aside. “So do you want to tell me why the fuck you are working for me?”
“Because I want to work! I don’t just want to coast on the Taylor name! Do you have any fucking idea what it’s like to go into a room and have people say, you don’t need to do anything; your life is sorted out?!”
“No. Oddly enough I worked to earn my multi-million dollar company! I didn’t have it handed to me!”
“I don’t want it handed to me! That’s the whole fucking point of me working!” He snarls, stepping up to me. “Did you even read my resume? I went to PIFA on a fucking scholarship! My dad could’ve and would’ve paid for that tenfold, no fucking problem! But that is not what I wanted!”
“What do you want?! I can’t figure you out!” I snarl back and once more, we’re like bears in a pit.
“Why do you need to?! I am just someone who can draw okay and you seem to enjoy baiting!”
“For fuck sake, I am not baiting you! I am just trying to understand!” I shout and step closer until we realise exactly how close we are and stop shouting.
“We should either stop annoying each other or being annoyed by the circumstances surrounding each other, as it leads us to kissing.” He whispers and I say nothing. “Or go with fuck it and forget about what never happened between us because obviously we like to kiss more than not to kiss each other.”
“I got a tattoo.” I whisper and take a pigeon step nearer.
“You did?” He looks me up and down. “Where?”
I hold up my taped hand. “I lead with my right.”
“What?”
“Whenever I want to do something, I lead with my right hand.”
“So what did you get?”
“Resist.”
“I am not going to rip the plaster off. It will hurt and pull the tattoo off!” He starts to get mad again.
“No, Tigger. I mean, the word resist, on my finger.”
“Why?”
“So…” I start to lower my head as I bury my left hand in his thick but soft hair. “...I can lead with my left, because I need to do this.” I pull him flush against me and when he gives a soft moan, I ravage his mouth.