March 22 – (Part Four)

Justin stirred on the bed and rubbed his face into his body pillow; he was still lost in between the warm haze of sleep and wakefulness. And he was reluctant to return to the realm of full wakefulness just yet. He was far too comfortable.

After he'd given Brian his gifts, and they'd had a few quiet moments to themselves, only interrupted by a pouting Emmett who complained that he'd wanted to see Big Bad's reaction to Justin's gift, Brian had insisted that Justin take a warm bath and nap. He'd been reluctant at first, the actions going against everything he knew about being a good host, but, as Brian pointed out, the shower was mostly over and Sunbeam was more important than a few potential hurt feelings.

So, he'd conceded and took a bath while Brian dispatched most of their guests, and then came back to help Justin out of the tub and then into bed, where Justin had almost promptly fallen asleep. Opening his eyes, Justin looked at the clock across from him and frowned when he realized that he'd been sleeping for nearly two hours.

Carefully rolling out of bed, Justin sat up on the edge of it, still trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He stood and crossed to bathroom, wondering where everyone was, as the family was all supposed to go out to dinner that night, and was planning to stick around for the couple of hours between the shower and dinner.

Quickly taking care of his business, Justin washed his hands, brushed his teeth to get rid of that after-sleep fuzzy feeling out of his mouth and ran a brush through his hair before setting off to find Brian and the others. He grabbed his cardigan sweater and threw it on as he walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He headed towards the stairs and then paused as he caught movement by the nursery door.

Pausing, Justin decided to take one last look at his nursery – and God, he still couldn't believe that Brian had done that – before joining the others. Crossing the landing, he walked to the nursery and then paused in front of it, frowning as he caught Lindsay standing there, her phone out and taking pictures?

"What are you doing?" Justin asked, walking into the room, his frown deepening when Lindsay startled and then slid her phone hastily into her pocket.

"I was just looking at the mural," Lindsay said, smoothing her hair back from her face. And that was a gesture he'd always found interesting; when she was talking to Brian, she pushed her hair forward, attempting to appear more vulnerable. But with Justin, she pulled it back to seem more authoritative; not that it worked on him because he was fluent in WASP. "You always were an amazing artist."

Well, that didn't sound bitter at all.

"Am," Justin said, watching her suspiciously, and wondering just what she was up to now. She'd been moody and acting off all day; something that he would usually chalk up to her jealousy issues, but he had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"What?" Lindsay asked, seemingly surprised at Justin's correction.

"Amazing, or not, as that's all subjective; I am an artist," Justin corrected her again, wanting there to be no mistake about it; while Lindsay may have given up on her dreams and aspirations, Justin was artist down to his soul. "And I always will be."

"It must be nice to nice to have that kind of confidence," Lindsay sniffed, her pleasant mask slipping enough to let the bitterness creep out again. And Justin couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that so easily broke through her veneer.

"It has nothing to do with confidence," Justin shrugged; and it was the truth. Sadly, Lindsay judged a true artist as one that was showing and selling his or her work; someone that had made a name for themselves. For Justin it was much simpler than that. "It is simply what I am. I could never sell another painting or a pastel or a sketch again, and I would still be an artist."

Lindsay looked away, but not before Justin caught the sour look on her face. In some ways, he felt sorry for her. She'd had so many dreams when she'd been younger; and she'd been a decent artist in her own right. And while she'd likely never hang on the walls of a museum, she could have made a decent living. But in other ways - most ways actually - he felt no sympathy at all. She'd chosen her path a long time ago, and if she was now unhappy with said path, that was her own fault, not his.

"So, I heard that you have a new protégé," Lindsay said out of the blue, and suddenly the light bulb clicked on; so that was what her problem was. Simon had been telling tales out of school. Oh, goody. He'd hoped that it had chapped his ass when Justin had interfered with his little games. "That must be nice."

"Oh, you mean Louis?" Justin asked, a sly smile on his face. God, he was so going to enjoy this; as Blake had said a couple of weeks ago, this had been a long time coming and Justin was done holding his tongue. "He is a sweet boy; so shy, although you'd never believe it by the way he looks; he has those smoldering, brooding good looks that drive people, men and women alike, wild. Very talented. One of these days people are going to be clamoring for a Chapman original. I couldn't let all that talent go to waste."

"How kind of you," Lindsay said, a tight smile on her face; and Justin couldn't help chuckling at her obvious displeasure.

"But you'd know that wouldn't you?" Justin asked with a diamond sharp smile, enjoying the way she was wriggling on his hook; one that he hadn't even had to bait this time. She's just thrown herself on there. "I'm sure your friend Simon filled you in on all the details; told you about what a find he was and how he couldn't wait to show him the ropes. It must have really pissed you off that I'd foiled your plans yet again."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Lindsay said, her face going instantly blank; but not before Justin saw the brief flash of panic in her eyes. Bingo. She was so fucking, pathetically obvious it was sickening.

"Oh, cut the crap, Lindsay," Justin smirked, his voice growing hard as steel as he stared the conniving bitch down. "It's just you and me here; there is no need to save face or pretend that you give one fuck about me. Just like I don't give one fuck for you."

"Of course I care about you," Lindsay simpered, letting her hair fall gracefully around her face; but Justin just laughed at her words and gestures.

Exactly who the fuck did she think she was fooling here? He'd seen the same tactics employed by his mother when she was trying to soften his father up and she'd always be a better WASP than Lindsay could ever hope to be. Lindsay didn't seem to like him laughing at her, her mouth pursing, and eyes flashing as she continued hotly.

"I've always supported you and your art; in fact, I was the one that…"

"Encouraged me to pursue it?" Justin asked lazily; he leaned against the crib and crossed his arms over his chest. "To go to New York to become more than I could here in Pittsburgh; trust me, I never forgot that fact." He paused and looked at her coldly. "Just as I know that it was not nearly so altruistic on your part. You see I know."

"Know what?" Lindsay asked, trying to appear nonchalant; but Justin could hear the fine tremor of nerves in her voice. And she should be worried given the knowledge that he held of her past actions. She really shouldn't have kept pushing him.

"Did you know that Simon gets awful chatty when he's drunk?" Justin asked conversationally, smirking when Lindsay blanched.

She silently shook her head; her lips clamped shut as if she were afraid of what might spill out if she didn't keep them tightly sealed.

"Oh yeah," Justin nodded knowingly, his eyes following every twitch and nervous gesture she made. Oh, yeah, she was worried by what Justin knew; he could see it in every fiber of her being. "No filter on that one whatsoever. And he had a lot to say about certain of his activities when he thought he couldn't be overheard by anyone that mattered."

"Did he?" Lindsay asked, swallowing thickly as Justin continued to stare at her coldly.

"Yup," Justin said, the cold rage washing over him once more as he remembered that night about three years prior. "He talks to his friends; laughs about how he has all these people all over the world willing to suck up to him because he got their foot in the door. How they're willing to do anything to make him happy. How he'd just recently gotten a call from a friend in Chicago that had this 'sweet, young thing of an artist' that he just had to see. That he had an 'amazing talent' and not just on canvas."

"I'm not sure why I should care…" Lindsay said, looking like she was ready to bolt at any second, so Justin barreled right on, ignoring her words and shutting her down.

"And these assholes, they all stood around, laughing at this poor kid's plight," Justin said, pushing off of the crib and putting himself between the bitch standing in from of him and the door. No way was she getting away with this any longer. "About how he'd soon find himself in the right hands; how Simon needed to 'train' him up to be a proper pet. That they couldn't wait for one of his parties where they'd get the chance to see this newest protégé in action. Chad Zimmerman. He was the first person I mentored."

Justin felt nauseated as he remembered Simon and his cronies, all drinking and smoking and laughing about their past exploits with previous artists; it had taken everything in him to walk away that night and not give into the temptation of beating the cunt senseless. Or to put a hit out on him. It had been utterly disgusting the way he had taken advantage of those who didn't have anyone to look out for them.

Thankfully, despite Lindsay's best intentions, Justin hadn't been in a vulnerable position when he'd left for New York. Brian had seen to that, much to both his gratitude and annoyance, the overprotective bastard.

"It deteriorated from there," Justin sneered, his face scrunching up in distaste. "They got disgustingly ribald with all the acts that they wanted to perform on him; especially after they saw his picture. I was so disgusted, so…horrified at what I'd heard; and yet, I felt justified that I had gotten his mark from the very beginning. In that moment, I was so glad that I ignored all of his overtures when I'd first landed in New York; not that he ever stood a chance. I mean, I had Brian, why the fuck would I ever look at that dickwad?"

Justin circled Lindsay, just as a cartoon shark circled its prey, looking for a way past their defenses so that they could take them down. He was almost there; he could see the veneer cracking with every word he said. It was only a matter of finding the right words and hitting the right mark before it all came crashing down and Lindsay showed her true colors. But for now, he'd play her game.

"It finally got to the point that my friend and I couldn't take it and we were this close to walking away…" Justin said, pinching his thumb and forefinger together to create a half-inch space between them in demonstration.

"I'm still not seeing the point to this," Lindsay said with a haughty frown, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

Yeah, he wasn't buying that either.

"But then, it got real interesting," Justin smirked, ready to get to his point, and enjoying the way Lindsay froze at those words, as if she sensed that he was going to rip her world to pieces. And he was. "He grew bitter and started ranting about his very good friend Lindsay, who, at one time, had been one of his 'sweet, young things,' and had once brought Justin Taylor, the new hot artist, to his attention."

Lindsay froze, looking like a deer in the headlights as she stared at Justin; she paled dramatically and her breathing grew harsh and uneven. Justin smiled coldly, knowing that he had her just where he wanted her; how he'd ever believed that this bitch had been his friend, that she'd ever cared for anyone but herself, he didn't know; but he did know this, the blinders he'd been wearing had been thoroughly obliterated that night.

"That she had told him that he would be ripe for plucking when he landed in New York because he was currently unhappy with his life and that he would likely bend over backwards if he could just have the right shot, if you know what I mean? After all, he had this thing for older, influential men and he'd be a shoe in for 'mentoring.' And I'm pretty sure that you and I know that he wasn't talking about mentoring in the artistic arena."

Justin arched a knowing brow and Lindsay flushed; but again she kept her mouth firmly sealed. He was tempted to ask her if the cat had gotten her tongue, but he was so close to cracking her, that he didn't want to jeopardize it with sarcasm. He could almost feel the hateful words she wanted to spew in his direction.

"So here are me and my friend," Justin continued with a hard smile; Lindsay flinched. "Standing behind this asshole, listening to him as he described what he'd wanted to do to me; and we're not just talking about him. Oh, no; as we've established, he likes to share and was telling his friends all these details about me that he had no way of finding out in our very short acquaintance."

And that's what had pissed him off the most; that apparently Miss Loose Lips, (and he'd heard enough to know that applied in both senses of the words), had been sharing intimate details of his life with someone he didn't know. It didn't matter that he was open with his sexuality and a bit of an exhibitionist; it was for him to decide who got that information and who didn't. And there was no way in hell that he'd ever agree with that prick knowing anything about him or his sex life.

"Talked about how I had an open relationship and how I liked to be the center of threesomes and foursomes and orgies. About how I sucked cock like a dream and fucked like it was going out style; and how he'd been this close to having all that raw sexual and artistic talent in his hands to shape and mold into one of his good little soldiers before he tossed me aside for some new flavor of the month. But, and this was his biggest gripe, he couldn't get close enough to me because of that bastard Kinney."

Lindsay's expression soured at that mention; yeah, that must have pissed her off royally. She likely thought that Brian would be heartbroken and malleable and that he'd let Justin go to live his own life. Granted, Brian almost did do that, but luckily Justin was smart enough to get his ass home long enough to smack some sense into his lover; or really, he fucked some sense into him, which had been even better.

"Which I found interesting because where the fuck could he have learned all this shit about me when I met him a grand total of one time and refused to give him more than a cursory acknowledgement because I thought he was a cunt," Justin said, that cold rage rushing through him once more as he stared at the woman who had sold him out for her own selfish reasons. "But you know how he got that information, don't you?"

"So what if I do?" Lindsay snapped; and Justin had to smirk internally as he known that if he'd just pushed hard enough, she'd break. "It's not like what I told him wasn't true. Hell, you can't walk down the Avenue without still hearing about the past escapades of the King and his Prince. He could have just walked into Babylon and ask about you and those dizzy queens couldn't shut up about you then – the little twink that toppled the King. So, yes, I told him that there would be a 'sweet, young thing,' coming his way that might need consoling because his dick of a boyfriend was going to dump his ass any day."

"And we know how you accomplished that don't we, Lindsay?" Justin hissed, wishing that he hadn't been raised a gentleman so he could smack her like she so richly deserved. "Manipulating one of your so-called best friends into pushing me off the Kinney Cliff; this despite the fact that I told you at the time that New York wasn't my opportunity of a lifetime. Brian was."

"Oh, please," Lindsay hissed, all timidity gone. "Brian didn't really want all that bullshit; you were just clinging onto to a false hope; he eventually would have snapped out of it and gone back to his old ways. It was only a matter of time. I was just circumventing the meltdown that would come when you realized that he was jerking you around again. At least this way, you would have your 'dreams' of being a 'world-renowned painter'."

"Bitch," Justin spat, years of venom spewing forth; it had been building up inside him for so long that he felt like he was going to choke on it. "I would have had all that anyways; after all, I was eons ahead of you when I was only seventeen."

Lindsay gasped in outrage; but Justin barreled on.

"That really must have rankled. Looking at the raw, untrained talent of a teenager and realizing they were already so much better than you. And then, on top of that, I had the guy too. Instead of running, even when he'd had the chance to do so, he was still finding ways to keep me in his life. And then, after all those years, he finally admitted that he love me, not you; and proposed to me, not you. And you found out he was willing to give me all those things you so desperately craved, but couldn't get him to commit to all those years ago, because, newsflash, he's gay."

Lindsay hissed like ineffectual, pampered kitten that she was; honestly, Justin couldn't believe that she'd believed for one minute that she could get one over on him.

"I didn't need Simon like you did," Justin said, smirking when she squawked out her indignation. "I already had the life I wanted; so who the fuck did you think you were, all but pimping my ass out to that disgusting little prick who couldn't get someone to look his way unless they were desperate?"

"Forgive me for thinking you'd be fine with it," Lindsay spat, frothing at the mouth at Justin's words, her eyes flashing as she got into his face. "After all, you and Brian were fucking anything and everything that moved. I knew all about your escapades; I heard the rumors on the Avenue about the King and his Prince and 'what a duo they made if you could get them to look your way.' I heard about the orgies and the trips to the baths on 'date night' and about your little games. And as for being passed around, you didn't seem to have a problem with going to one of the Sap's parties to be passed around like a party favor."

Justin felt like he'd been suckered punched by that revelation; not that he showed it, as he'd never give this woman the means to hurt him again. He did have to wonder where she'd heard about it though, as he'd thought that it had died that night; Sap would have never wanted anyone knowing that he'd gotten his ass handed to him by a drugged twink.

"Actually I did mind it," Justin spat, getting back into her face and making her back away in trepidation at whatever she'd seen in his eyes. "That is why, after they drugged my ass, and tried to put me in one of his infamous swings, I fought back and kicked the asshole in the jaw, dislocating it and ran as fast as I could away from there."

Lindsay looked ill at having it spelled out like that; what, had she really thought Justin would just agree to being gang raped like that? Obviously the bitch didn't really know what happened at those parties or she would have kept her nasty mouth shut.

"Oh yeah," Justin said, advancing on her. "He was quite pissed about that; bruised up the entire side of his face. You should count yourself lucky as that's what I typically do to little bitches that try to pimp me out to their friends."

Lindsay paled and took another step back, not so confident anymore. Justin smiled coldly and advanced, fairly spitting with rage.

"What's the matter Lindsay," Justin said in a mocking tone. "Were you just not doing it for him anymore? Were you getting too old and clingy? Did he suddenly lose interest you because the next 'sweet, little, blond thing' came-a-calling? And a sweet, little blonde, male thing at that I believe? One that actually had a modicum of success because one of Simon's friends took a liking to him and had gotten him out before Simon had destroyed his chances. That must have stuck in your craw."

Lindsay huffed and looked away from Justin, but didn't deny it; because they were both very well aware of the fact that she couldn't. Once he'd overheard Simon and his lemmings, Justin had done a little research of his own and was shocked by what he'd found. He couldn't help but wonder if Mel was aware of it.

"Yeah, see, I know about that too; about how he's bisexual and likes blondes. About how you met him soon after college and spread your legs for him in the hopes that he would make all your little artistic dreams come true. And then, when they didn't, he patted you on the head and set you up with a decent gallery job and said, 'better luck next time kid.' Did you really believe that you were anything but a convenient fuck to him; while he used your talent to get ahead and bled you dry through bad contracts?"

Lindsay spluttered, her face turning an unattractive and unhealthy shade of red.

"Hate to tell you sweetcakes," Justin said, not even giving her a chance to respond; and then he paused and cocked his head. "Actually, no, I'm going to enjoy every single second of this because it is nothing more than what you deserve for selling me out to an over-the-hill wannabe Lothario. You were nothing more than a notch in his belt and a way for him to find 'new inspiration' among the arts."

Lindsay inhaled sharply, her lower lip quivering, but Justin wasn't buying what she was selling; it was WASP 101. Another one of those 'if you appear weak and helpless, then you will get your way' tactics that he so loathed.

"Tell me, Lindsay," Justin looked at her sharply, wondering if she'd actually answer, or if she'd play it off. "Was I special? Or was I just one of the many that you sent his way because you thought that you were actually friends?" Lindsay pressed her lips together and refused to answer; just as he suspected. "Newsflash bitch – he was using you then; and he's using you now. And you just keep on bending over and taking it like the cunty, little bitch that you are."

Lindsay gave another little outraged gasp; Justin just shook his head. Was she really surprised by his low opinion of her? Or was this just another part of her game?

"I'll bet you hated it, didn't it?" Justin drawled, flashing a smug smile her way; just knowing it would irritate her. "It must have pissed you off when your plans for me fell to the wayside; that I didn't become I mindless little drone like you did, despite your best efforts. That you had to sit back and see me rise when your star fell. You'd hoped that I would fail too; because then you could live with yourself and tell yourself that it wasn't your fault for getting mixed up with the wrong sort. It was just the way the game was played."

Justin paused, letting that little tidbit sink in; and judging by Lindsay's sour expression he had hit the nail on the head. And she didn't look happy about it at all.

"But here is the difference between us, Lindsay," he said, smirking when she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I work to get what I want; I don't just rollover onto my back, spread legs and expect the person that's fucking me to hand it to me on a silver platter. That usually only gets you screwed in the end; and not in the fun life-affirming way either."

Lindsay looked away, clenching and unclenching her hands as her lips began to tremble and her eyes filled up with tears. It was a command performance; and might have made him feel a shred of remorse if he hadn't already been privy to the act five years ago when Brian had taken Lindsay to court to get his rights reinstated.

"Oh, tears," Justin mock lamented. "I suppose you think that I'll be moved by them?" Justin rolled his eyes as Lindsay took a shuddery breath. "Yeah, sorry; not going to happen; I've seen this routine before. I remember it very well – the big, crocodile tears that poured out of your eyes as you brokenly told the judge how worried you were that Gus was going to pick up on his father's bad habits; and as much as it hurt you to take him away from his father, you felt that it was for the best."

Lindsay hissed; and there she was – the nasty, entitled little viper that thought she could actually get away with her actions. Seriously, sometimes he had to stop and wonder if he'd ever met a more delusional person in his life; and then he remembered Michael and knew that as bad as Lindsay was, Michael was worse.

"Good thing the judge saw right through that act too; and saw you for the money-grubbing bitch that you were. You seem to forget, you aren't as good of an actress as you think you are. You wear your emotions in your eyes. It's the one place you can't lie. And boy did she ever call your bluff, pointing out that if he didn't have rights to his son, then he shouldn't have to support him. That's not true you know. The law usually favors the child. Many a man has gotten screwed over and been forced to pay child support even when he didn't know about the kid; even if the mother tricked him into getting her pregnant. But she was testing you and you caved like a house of cards under a stiff wind. Bet that fucked up your world order, didn't it?"

Justin snorted when Lindsay just growled at him; what, did she think that was going to intimidate him. Please, he'd seen better bites on Chihuahua. He just shook his head in disgust, his anger abating as he realized that she would never get it.

"You're just lucky that I took the high road and never told Brian the lengths you went through to separate us; because if I had, that little courtroom drama would be a cake walk compared to what he did. And well you know it. The only reason you're still even a part of our lives is because of Gus. If not for him, I would have happily booted your flat, skanky ass to the curb. And before you get all high and mighty, and say that Brian wouldn't allow that to happen, do remember all the shit you put him through with the custody battle. He was done with you then; you just don't realize it yet."

Justin crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow, wondering what pearls of wisdom, or more likely venom, she would drip now; but Lindsay remained suspiciously silent. And Justin didn't think for one minute that she was ready to back down; but this time, when she did pull her usual shit, the gloves were off.

"I do have to wonder Lindsay," Justin said thoughtfully, a cold smile returning to his lips. "All those times you went out of town on business... how many of those times were you at one of Simon's little artist debuts?" Lindsay twitched, and Justin knew he'd hit a sore spot. "And would you have come to mine had he been successful?"

They stared at each other for a long moment, Lindsay practically choking on her anger, envy rising from every pore in a palpable wave. Justin was just disgusted by the person in front of him; someone he'd once trusted and loved, who'd turned out to be worst sort of self-entitled, rapacious, repugnant asshole possible.

"Now," Justin said, pointing towards the hallway. "Do us all a favor and get the fuck out of my house. I don't care what you have to do or say; pretend you're sick or have actually found a conscience somewhere, but get the fuck out and stay out of my way. You do not want to take me on, bitch."