For me, being alone is easy. For others, they need people around them, unable to do anything unless they have others to witness it. Maybe it was easier for me because I’ve been alone for most of my life. My parents checked out the day I was born. At least it’s how I choose to see it. I don’t pretend a life that forced them to give me up. There’s no reason to fool myself, or anyone else. Of course, there would need to be someone in my life to fool, maybe it’s the reason I never tried to make up some story in order to justify why my parent or parents left me at the hospital the night I was born. I did fine on my own, at least until I saw him. He interested me, something no one else ever did. Likely because I saw in him the loneliness I tried never to acknowledge in my own life. He dealt with it differently, letting the world believe he was anything but alone. He was what I could have become if I had let people in. So I studied him the way I studied anything that didn’t make sense to me.

It’s like tonight, I sat watching him, the way most men do. I didn’t wish for a night that I was the one who got his attention. I just liked watching the way he casually strolls, every eye on him, yet no one really touches him. He never lets anyone close to him, and none of them realize it. The masses that swirl around him, only saw something elusive and wild they sought to tame. I saw that he stood alone in a crowd. They watched him, not seeing it, not seeing that no one was allowed to see the real person behind the man they all wanted to own.

Even the friends, who either wish they could be him, or could be the one with him, didn't see it. They interested me because they were still trying, no matter how hard he pushed them away from himself. That was what held my interest about him. Because he’s me, only with a crowd, no matter how many eyes watch him. They get the body, wishing for more, but never getting the part he hides from them all. My voyeurism ends when he picks a guy and they go to the backroom. I didn’t want to see how little each guy really meant afterwards, which I witness the next time they approach him again the next time they see him. It made sense, and I wanted him to not make sense, because it gave me a reason to keep seeking him out.

It was time to go home, time to go back to my life. The one where my thoughts didn't stray to how I could have been. The one without Brian Kinney and my way of living through him for the small moments, in order to sleep. Unlike him, people don’t see me as mysterious. Instead, they see me as if looking at a zoo animal, before walking the other way when I only stare at them, not knowing what to say to them. I don’t know what to say or how to answer, since my life was spent with the people who were only interested in how my mind works. I wasn’t Justin Taylor; just a genius. Only useful for what my mind could do. So I spent my life on the outside looking in, only I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Until the night I looked up at his window my life was as normal as it had ever been. In public, he was everything people in the clubs gossiped about, as if it was all he was. In private, he was on the outside looking in like me. It’s why I continued to watch him, because I never understood letting people close when it was just an illusion. In my mind he allowed it, because the illusion was better than being alone. Which really was simple, but for me didn’t make sense, since I dealt in reality.

I walked out into the night, ignoring anyone who looked at me with interest or curiosity. Instead of going home, I needed to go somewhere without noise, or people who might expect me to talk to them. It was running through my head, the thought of what it would be like if for once Brian looked up and saw me. Which didn’t make sense because I didn’t want anyone around me. Sitting in my car I didn’t drive off, but  looked out into the night. When there were no answers I started the car, planning to go to the park next to the water, where I went when I needed quiet that wasn’t my house. Hoping to clear the thoughts I’ve been having out of my mind. My passenger door opened before I could leave and he got in, not asking, just getting in, assuming it was alright to do.

“Wherever your going is fine.” Brian said, not caring that I only stared back at him.

I looked to see his friends all standing looking at my car, as if in shock at being left behind, with him not caring that he was leaving them to go with a stranger. Maybe it was what he does after I leave, but it was something I never stuck around to find out about. I could see the friends being upset over him getting in my car, only they walked away as if it was required of them.

“Can you drive?” Brian asked.

So I did, not saying anything about where we were going. He didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t said a word, just looked out the window as the world went by us. It was strange that he didn’t try to fill in the silence in the car, since most people get uncomfortable when they aren’t creating noise just to avoid the silence.

Then I stopped and got out, leaving him to either sit in the car or leave. I made my way to the bench where I sat  most nights. He got out and followed me. For me, looking out to the black  water made my mind stop. I could close my eyes and let the sounds overtake the noise in my head. With my eyes closed my world became centered in the place that I could once again handle being alone. Yes, being alone was easy, but sometimes I craved more. It’s how I found Brian. 

I remember walking the streets like I did when I didn’t want to sit in my house, no purpose in mind. Every once in a while I would look at people’s windows, wondering what went on behind the curtains. One night I felt the need to look up to a window, and I saw him, staring into the night. He interested me only because I’d spent nights doing the same thing, only going out when the walls were closing in around me. My window was my way of noticing the world was still moving around me. He wasn’t looking at anything that night other than the sky. I ended up sitting on the bench across the street for over an hour, watching him as he watched the sky. It was the first night I went home and slept for longer than a couple of hours. A few weeks later I tried it again when I saw him standing at the window, and again was able to sleep. Sleep was something my mind didn’t like, and nothing worked, until him. 

The first time I followed him was by chance. I happened to be in the diner I passed by most nights, getting something to drink, and he walked in, not noticing me. I watched as the lonely man in the window became someone new. Instead of just leaving, I watched him as his friends sat around him joking, waiting for him to approve of their conversations. Each one needed whatever he would say, as if his approval was important. Eventually he got up and all of them followed him, as if only what he wanted mattered to them. I followed to see what he did when he wasn’t standing at his window. Once again, everything I was seeing wasn’t the person I decided he was. It was just that after leaving him I could sleep again, so I started showing up every night he was here, I could blend in better. Each night I watched him until he went into the backroom, not understanding what it was about him that allowed my mind to rest.

Closing my eyes, I felt his eyes on me as if he was waiting for something. He didn’t talk, instead he just sat next to me. I could hear him breathing and I kept my eyes closed, the sound was one I once dreamed about. In the dream, it felt natural that he would be next to me, breathing. I couldn’t explain it to myself, so I didn’t try. The sound of people walking by, talking, made me open my eyes.

“Why have you been watching me?” Brian asks, turning my head to look at him.

“No reason. Are you ready to go?” I asks, not wanting him to become like other people when they tried to talk to me.

“You just got here, and now you want to leave?” He asks.

“Yes.” I say, not explaining that the water wasn’t working when he was close to me.

“Where do you want to go?” He asks.

“To take you back to your world.” I tell him.

“Is this yours?” Brian asks, looking around. 

I didn’t answer. He didn’t need to know what my world was like. He lived it, only with a crowd surrounding him. I didn’t want the noise that came from his world, even when there were nights I craved it.

“I’m Brian.” He says, waiting for me to say something.

At first I thought about lying to him, but in the end realized why would it matter if he knew my name.

It took me a second to give him my name, and I realized how little I used my voice. “Justin.” I say.

BRIAN

I couldn’t figure him out. At first I didn’t think much about him. I’d seen him walking down the street at night, never stopping, until the night I stood at the window waiting for him to walk by. He didn’t do what I expected him to, he stopped, sat down, and looked at me. I didn’t look directly at him, even when I knew he was watching me. He didn’t make a secret of it, just sat and watched me. Only it was different, he wasn’t looking at me as if he wanted me, just as if I was a piece of art on a wall that he was trying to figure out the meaning of.

I debated going down to ask him what he was doing, but in the end I didn’t. For weeks I stood at my window and waited to see what he would do if I was standing there, and eventually he came and would sit watching me until I left the window. I would have considered it stalking, only he never came near me, never talked to me or to anyone who passed by him, just watched and then left. It was strange, but not, at the same time. I let it go, not feeling alone for once in my life. I never mentioned it to anyone. Because what would I say about a guy I didn’t even know or understand.

I remember walking into the diner one night, at first not seeing him sitting at the counter. Only, Deb tilted her head at me, as if she was worried about him. Michael, Emmett, and Ted never noticed unless Deb said something out loud, but the tilt of her head was something she used with me. I didn’t approach him, just walked to the booth. Letting the guys talk endlessly about things I really didn’t care about, only nodding or adding a comment so they would keep talking, while I waited to see what he would do. He sat watching us, but never made eye contact with me. It felt like we had a secret that was just ours, and by meeting it wouldn’t be just us anymore. 

When he followed us to Babylon, I watched him as he went up the stairs, ignoring the men who licked their lips as he walked by. I wanted to follow him, but instead used the crowd to watch him. I wanted to bother him the way he bothered me, and picked the first guy offering. Only when I came out, he was gone. The next night he was there waiting when we got to Babylon, and the guy from the night before came up to me,  hoping for a repeat. I did what I always do when guys thought it was more than it was, and sent him away. When I looked up he walked down the stairs as if what I did upset him, only to come back again the next night and watch me. 

It wasn’t until tonight that I couldn’t keep doing this game we were playing. I needed something. What it was I didn’t know, but it was something only he could give me. I knew the only way to get him alone was to play my part in the game we’d established. I didn’t even go with the guy to the backroom, just agreed so that my watcher would leave the club. I waited for him to go out the door and followed him. I thought I’d lost him when he got in the car, but he didn’t leave immediately, which allowed me time to get to his car. I got in as he started the car and when I told him to drive, he did, only looking past me at my friends. He didn’t ask about anything, just drove us to wherever he was going. I liked that he didn’t need noise to be comfortable, something everyone in my life needed. He didn’t even say anything when he got of the car, just walked towards the benches and sat down. It was as if he’d forgotten I was there. I followed for some reason, needing to hear his voice, like it would explain why he kept my attention when he did nothing to get it. Only, it was as if by speaking something changed and he wanted me gone. I wanted more for the first time. I wanted to know everything about him. It didn’t make sense, we didn’t know each other and there was no reason we should, but I felt as if I would lose something if he disappeared because I’d crossed some line. Only it was crossed, and I refused to let him go without at least knowing his name. When I said mine, it was as if he had to think to talk, and a part of me wondered if anyone ever talked to him. I wanted to run because I didn’t need someone else to worry about, my life was full of them. Only I sat there, waiting for him to finally give me a name. For a second I could see in his beautiful blue eyes the lie that he almost let out, only to simply say his name. Justin. 

He parked in front of my loft, waiting for me to leave but I couldn’t. I wanted to spend time with him, to find out all the things I didn’t know about him, and maybe it would stop me from dreaming of him. Dreaming of a life that was something I never dreamed I could have.

“Do you want to come up? You’ve seen the window, but the rest is still a mystery.” I tell him.

Justin looked up, as if going to my loft was wrong. But my need to know was greater than the fear I saw in his eyes at what going up there could mean to the thing we’d been doing.

“I want to know what is going on behind your eyes.” I say, reaching out to touch any part of him. 

Justin was shaking when I laid my hands on his face, but he let me touch him. At that moment, I felt his pain, I knew he didn’t get touched by anyone. He stood apart, the way he did at the club, letting the world surround him, but not touch him. It was something we shared, and it made him special in a way no one else had ever been. I refused to let him go, because in my soul I knew if I did this would be the end for us. An us that didn’t really exist, but I wanted it to, for reasons I couldn’t figure out.

“Don’t you want to see what you stare at every night?” I ask, running my hands down his cheeks to his neck, until I reached his hand, shaking on the steering wheel.

I took the hand into mine, as if it would keep him from leaving me. Then it was me shaking, because for the first time in my life I didn’t want someone to go. Justin pulled his hand from mine, but didn’t start the car. He got out and walked to the door of the building, waiting for me to let him in. We walked up the stairs together in silence, something that in a way was us. For the first time I worried about how someone would look at my loft. Would he see the way it was designed as interesting, or what it was, a showplace. I didn’t know why it was important to me that he saw past the facade I created because I didn’t want anyone to know the real me.

Justin stood in the doorway, taking in the whole loft, not saying anything. He slowly walked around touching everything, then looking at me as if to ask if I minded. 

“I need to take a shower, go ahead and look around.” I tell him.

In the bathroom, I wanted to get the stink of the club off me. I didn’t expect that Justin would be there when I got out, but I didn’t want to watch him leave if he did. I stood under the water, trying to understand how for some reason he was important to me. I’d spent my life believing I’d be alone one day. Not wanting anyone to get close because eventually I wouldn’t be the man they all wanted. My life was built to be alone, but something about Justin made me crave the wish that someone would really see me, and still want the damaged man I really was.

I came out to find him looking at my closet, and he smiled a small smile before leaving me to get dressed. I took my time, watching as he opened and closed all the cabinets before opening the refrigerator. There was no judgement over the drugs, just at the emptiness of food. Which made more sense when his stomach growled. 

“I’d offer you something to eat, but as you can see there’s not much in there.” I say, starting to wonder why I didn’t put food in my home.

“Eggs, milk, and bread.” He says, as if it made my bare kitchen less bare.

He didn’t ask, just started making food with what I had. I needed to fill in the silence, but not with meaningless chatter. 

“Why me?” I ask, almost wincing at how needy it sounded.

Justin didn’t answer right away but took his time, as if the answer was important to him. I wanted him to look at me when he answered, and turned his head to look at me.

“You give me peace. Something I’ve never really had.” He says, turning his head back to the stove.

“Why don’t you?” I ask.

“I can’t shut off the ideas that need to get out, and… just watching you does that for me. I don’t need more from you, just what we do.” Justin tells me.

“What if I want more?” I ask, wondering where it came from.

“You won’t. No one does.” He says, not sounding as if there was anything wrong with it.

“How do you know?” I ask, really interested.

“It’s how people react to me. I don’t know what to say when they ask things, and eventually they stop asking.” Justin tells me.

“So you stop trying?” I ask.

“Being alone is easier, always has been.” He says, handing me a plate.

I looked at the french toast, deciding to break my no carbs rule, because he made it for me without asking. I started looking through my cabinets trying to find syrup, only to have him open one and get the syrup I didn’t know I had.

“I guess Lindsay must have bought it.” I tell him, as if he knew my friends.

“Lindsay?” He asks.

“She’s a friend I’ve had since college, she tends to buy things so I have them for when my son comes over.” I tell him, watching him look confused. “She wanted a baby and I eventually agreed to help her and her partner have one. I wasn’t supposed to be more than a sperm donor but he’s the best part of me.” I say, willing to tell him anything he needed to know about me.

Justin ate in silence as I told him about Gus and my life, while not offering anything about his. I started to run out of things to say, and eventually I ask him about himself.

“Are you out or not?” I ask.

“Neither, you’re really the first person who seemed to want to know.” Justin tells me.

“Have you ever been close to anyone?” I ask.

“As in a relationship?” He asks, instead of answering.

“As in having people who care about you.” I answer.

“No. I need to go.” Justin says, getting up to leave.

“Before you go, let me give you my number.” I tell him, scrambling to find paper.

“Why?” Justin asks.

“Because for some reason I want you to know there might be someone who cares.” I tell him.

Justin looked at the phone number and then left it on the desk as he was leaving. I picked it up to hand it to him.

“Numbers I know. It’s people who disappoint you.” He says, walking out.

I went to the window to watch him leave, only he walked to the bench and sat watching me. I didn’t look away from him, needing him to know I saw him, the way he saw me.