CHAPTER 22: STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES BUT DOES THAT APPLY TO A ‘SORRY’ ASS, TOO?

BRIAN:

We’re still standing here with the outraged fiddler, who is steadily hurling insults and unwarranted threats at my head. Doesn’t he realize when it’s over? I suppose that if this was the 15th century, he would be challenging me to a duel for the fair Justin’s affections. But it’s not, and there is no way he can win Justin back, due to his own idiocy. On some level, I understand the desperation coming off of him in waves, probably even better than he does. Justin is a very special man; the kind that breathes and exudes positivity regardless of how bleak the situation looks. He lost that for a while during the bashing, and yet on some fundamental level, he always remained hopeful despite his actions to the contrary in the early days of his recovery. It’s that inner fire which makes any man- any person- want to draw from constantly. But in Ethan’s case, it’s more than that.

As I’m standing here still watching him, I realize that he wants to own Justin in ways that are just not possible. He would be satisfied if Justin was just a groupie with no real goals of his own. Justin told me that when he was with Ethan his art was for shit. No matter what he did, or wanted to do, he just couldn’t get the concept right. All that changed when I offered him the chance to do the Carnivale poster. Not only had Justin finished before the deadline, but the work was exquisite. I could tell he was back in the zone from the smile which lit up his whole face. But then Michael had arrived as Justin and I were going over the minor details I wanted added, and it was muted significantly. I could actually see the heaviness of his shoulders, and the weighted steps he’d taken on his way to the loft entrance, no matter how hastily he took them; watched helplessly as the inner-fire Justin had always possessed was being extinguished again, moment by moment.

That was the moment that I realized Justin no longer lived but merely existed, and was trying to make the best out the less-than-ideal situation. I kept my thoughts to myself that night, already knowing what the barrage of questions Michael was throwing at me would lead to. So I chose the path of least resistance, all the while knowing that Justin was going to break free of Ethan’s emotional bondage a lot sooner than forever. It was time to end this with a question of my own… and yeah, a little blackmail, too.

“So Ethan, tell me something. When was it that Michael approached you to start turning Justin’s head?” The collective gasps burst forth from Cynthia and Daphne, while Justin just stands stoically, waiting for the answer.

“He didn’t!” he yells, but I can see the fear in his eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting to ever be found out.

“Oh, okay then. I’ll just go ahead and send this to your agent, then we can be on our way.” I start typing on my phone, when he whispers brokenly.

“The day before the recital at PIFA.”

“What was that?” I pause with my finger poised to resume typing if he doesn’t spill his yellow-bellied guts right this second.

“It was the day before the recital at the Music Hall of the school. Somehow, he’d found out that Justin was going to be there. He told me all about how Justin’s boyfriend was a heartless shit, who didn’t care about anyone but himself. He was worried that Justin would continue to fall for your shit, and in the end be heartbroken. When he showed me Justin’s picture in his phone, that sealed it for me. I had to have Justin. He’s fucking beautiful, and would…”

“Make delicious arm candy for your adoring audience to drool over?” Justin drawled. “That is what you were about to say, right Ethan?”

“Justin, it wasn’t like that…” he tries to explain, but is halted by Justin’s raised hand.

“Please, spare me the dramatics, Ethan. And respect me enough, at long last, to give me the fucking truth!” He takes a deep breath, and I move to stand beside him. I know what it is he must ask. It will shake his faith in himself once again if the answer comes back the way he believes it will. “So how much did he pay you, Ethan?”

“He…”

“DON’T. FUCKING. LIE!” Justin yells, startling us all. As he takes a calming breath, it’s taking everything in me just to hold him steady. I don’t know if it’s hurt, or anger, or a combination of the two which is trying to tear him apart right now. All I know is that I have to be his anchor.

“Okay, Justin. Okay… but you’re wrong in a way. It wasn’t Michael who paid me, but Lindsay, right after I made the first contact with you. After you walked away with Melanie, she pulled me aside and said that I was going to need money to woo you; that since I was a starving student, to consider the money as a token of appreciation from both her and Michael.”

“How much?” At Ethan’s hesitation, Justin repeated the question. “How much, Ethan?”

“Five thousand dollars, with a promise of more for every year we stayed together.”

Justin laughs. “Did they really think we were meant to be together forever?”

“I don’t think they did, really. But they were hoping that within that time, you would fall in love with me and forget about him,” he sneers, pointing in my direction.

“Then you were all jackasses,” Justin says simply. “One thing in this world that would never happen is that I would forget Brian Kinney. Sure, I may have forgotten bits and pieces of our lives together. Something tragic may even happen that I would forget that life altogether, or not remember his name. But Brian is a type of life force that has always remained with me since my first night with him, whether we were sharing the same space or not. His aura affects everything and everyone he comes in contact with in a visceral way…”

“You describe me as an artist,” I whisper in his ear, pulling him even tighter to me.

“That’s because I am, but it’s also the truth.” He places a peck near my lips before turning back to Ethan again. “I have to be honest with you, simply because I asked for your honesty first. Ethan, being with you was draining in so many ways. Listening to you practice for hours and hours on end was distracting and torturous on a good day. Yes, you have talent; I won’t take that away from you, but you also have limited social skills because of it. As an artist, I need conversation more than I need useless compliments designed to get me into bed with you. I need stimulation that has little or nothing to do with sex. As a man, I need someone who challenges me and sees me as more than an extension of themselves or their pretentious and lofty goals. In short, you were and are everything I don’t need.

“You need a groupie who will worship your fingering and bow work. That’s not me. You need someone to think you’re the greatest thing in the world; on par with electricity and sliced bread. That’s not me. You need someone to hold your hand through life, telling you that you’re more talented than Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and the current greats like Noel Pointer and Jean-luc Ponty. That’s not me. But I also would have never tried to discourage you from achieving your dreams the way you have consistently tried to destroy mine. Anytime you would see me with my sketchbook open, I guess you figured that if I had time to draw, I had time to fuck you. You knew that Brian was still paying for my education so you made it your mission to try and make sure I wouldn’t pass my classes. I have to wonder if that was really what Michael and Lindsay’s token of appreciation was really about, and not simply to get me away from Brian. Like you, they also wanted me to fail, although for different reasons. Lindsay’s is more based in jealousy than anything, because even if she’d tried, she wouldn’t have been able to get into PIFA…”

“She did, which is essentially why she ended up at Penn. She’d jumped the gun and told all her friends that she was going to PIFA, but when she didn’t get in, she had to make up a convincing lie to cover her tracks,” I confirm.

Justin snickers. “Far be it from Lindsay to be able to tell the truth if it bit her in her girly parts. But Michael, on the other hand, his was more based in greed. You see, with Brian supporting me, it meant less times that he could go to Brian for another handout. So that five grand they gave you was a downpayment on a much bigger goal for them. You were the small fish, Ethan, and you always will be.”

Before the idiot has a chance to respond, Justin’s cell phone beeps with a text message. Shaking his head angrily he says, “We need to get to mom’s office.”

“Why?” Daphne asks. “I thought we were going to Kinnetik Headquarters.”

“We still are, but first it’s time to fry the shark plaguing my mother. Molly sent me the text since she is there with Mom today for ‘Take you daughter to work day’. She’s requesting that we come because Michael is there, bitching and whining at her and she’s afraid that Mom is about to cop a murder charge.”

“Why would he be at your mother’s job?” Cynthia asks.

“Because she’s buying up all the properties on Liberty Avenue that are up for sale, or that have the potential for increased value. One thing about WASP… male or in this case, female, it’s all about acquisition. And if there’s a way to make my very public enemy number one suffer, well that’s just another layer of fun for her. In short, she’s bought Michael’s building as well as the loft, the Diner, the bank, and several other buildings which house some lucrative businesses along the Avenue. So little Mikey is at her office, throwing a temper tantrum.”

“Well then let’s go save Mom from the whine I’m sure could be heard all over Pittsburgh.” I laugh as I move us around the still struck-dumb idiot, watching us have a conversation which does not involve him. I turn slowly. “Ethan, as always, it hasn’t been a pleasure, but thanks for the useful information. Bye bye!”

“But what about the video?” Ethan pleads.

“Stay away from us, and perhaps I’ll erase it in a year’s time. But I don’t know about that yet.” I let just the mere idea of the threat to his career hang in the air before going over to the driver’s side and getting in. Yes, it’s evil to do something like that to the poor arrogant asshole, but he’s asked for it numerous times. Perhaps he will finally realize that he’s been fighting this particular war unarmed, or at the very least with faulty ammunition. He would do well to remember that he’s no match for the Master.

As we pull out of the parking space, Daphne’s forehead wrinkles in thought. “But why would he go to Mrs. Taylor? She’s not going to have any mercy on him at all.”

“No, she isn’t,” Justin answers. “But Michael is probably thinking once word gets back to Brian that he’s essentially homeless, Brian will either plead his case to Mom, or let him stay with us. It’s a classic Michael-move designed to make him seem helpless, and gain sympathy in any way possible.”

“To make anyone who goes against his wishes, or not willing to fix his problems look unreasonable and selfish,” Cynthia chimes in.

“God that sounds like…”

“Lindsay!” we all tell Daphne, even though we know she already knows it. “He’s been around enough times to pick up a few of her tricks. But just like hers didn’t work, neither will his this time. Brian, I think you should let me handle this,” Justin tells me.

“Why?” I ask. Granted he just let me handle Ethan my own way, but this is different.

“Because no doubt he’ll try every trick in the book with you, thinking that since the guilt trips have worked before, they will work again. Michael doesn’t want to accept that things have indeed changed. You’re not alone anymore! And if it takes a fucking mallet, I’m going to get that through the cement block where the gray matter in his brain should be. Once and for all.”

JENNIFER:

God, PLEASE keep my hands! God, PLEASE keep me from reaching out and punching this idiot in his whining mouth! Chants of prayers in different variations keep going around and around in my head as I stand here listening to Michael Novotny’s litany of complaints and threats. The only reason I haven’t lost my temper yet is because the rental office is full of clients paying their rent or mortgages, and my daughter is sitting with Samantha at the front desk right now. However, whatever lessons I’ve ever taught Molly about violence are about to go out of the window along with Michael... head first!

“Again Michael, I’m not rescinding the eviction. We gave your former cohabitant his check back upon his request. Not only did he pay the rent six months in advance, but your retroactive rent, which was 120 days past due. It was owed to him since he didn’t even live there at the time. The eviction notice was in your mailbox…”

“But you knew that I wasn’t in town!”

“That’s not my problem, nor was I aware that you hadn’t made arrangements for your mail to be picked up. Most people do that when they know they are going to be gone for an extended period of time. As a courtesy, I granted you five extra days to cover that lapse, but that still doesn’t excuse the 120 days of nonpayment prior to the issue of the notice.”

“Well then how about I just give you the money now, and I get to keep my place?”

“No.”

“No? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘NO’?!”

“Just what I said,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I…”

“Am about to use Justin’s money to save my miserable ass once again? Isn’t that what you were going to say, Michael?” Justin interrupts as he comes through the door. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Son. What are you doing here?”

“Molly sent up an S.O.S., afraid that you might be donning prison orange and new silver bracelets within the next few minutes. Not a fashion statement any of us would want to see you making. Trust me, no one, except perhaps Emmett, looks good in that shade of orange, Mom.”

“As you can see, Michael is once again unhappy with circumstances of his own making.”

“I’m sure. Molly’s given me a full account of what’s been going on. But I know what’s really going on in Michael’s head, don’t I Michael?”

“Stay the fuck out of this, Boy Wonder. My business doesn’t concern you!”

“On the contrary when you’re offering to pay $4800 dollars plus interest of the money you stole from me, and that’s just in arrears. It would take an additional $4800 to pay the six months for the remainder of the year. That’s at least $9600 dollars of MY money that you are offering up as if it’s yours.”

“I have money that has nothing to do with YOU!”

“Oh you mean it’s Brian’s money, then?”

“Bri…? Look, what I am doing is…”

“Trying to come here and start a verbal war with my mom in an attempt to make her look unreasonable and discredit her growing business? I thought I would finish your sentence for you. Meanwhile, in a little less than five days to the minute, you’re either going to pay back my money and all of the other things I’ve asked for as a settlement, or you’re going to be brought up on charges of embezzlement. I have to wonder just who here is actually being dishonest.”

The other patrons all stopped their transactions to listen to the calm voice of my son. I would worry about this contretemps spreading around as if I can’t take care of my own business, but I think hearing Justin spell out exactly what Michael was trying to do, is going to do more good than harm.

“Fuck you, Boy Wonder!”

“Not even with your mother’s plastic dick hidden in her nightstand, Michael. And that’s what the problem really is, isn’t it? Not that I won’t fuck you per se, but that Brian won’t do you, whereas he does me well and often. That’s what today is really about, isn’t it? The fact that you have once again messed up, and you’re looking for Brian to come in here and rescue you, either by talking with Mom, who he loves, or giving you a place to stay. Well dream on, idiot! The Bank of Brian Kinney is closed to you!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! You don’t know what Brian will do for me! We have history! We have a future together! You’re just…”

“HIS HUSBAND!” Justin yells in Michael’s face, before laughing at the astonished look. “Yes, Michael. You heard right, for once. I am Brian’s husband… more than that really. I’m both his legal domestic partner and his business partner, which means that no money moves unless we BOTH approve. So no, he won’t be coming to your rescue as you intended by coming to complain to my mother. For once, you’re going to have to take off those Captain Asshole underoos you’re so fond of and put on some Big Boy drawers. You’re going to have to solve your own problems, or do what you’ve been doing and hang from Deb’s apron strings, continuing to drag her down with you. I’m sure she’s lonely in that little empty house since she also alienated us through her lies and manipulations on your behalf.”

“You’re lying! He didn’t sign any kind of legal papers with you!” Michael just has to keep trying. IDIOT!  

“Actually, he did. Mom was there, as was Melanie, Ted, and Cynthia. So yes, it’s all nice, tight and legal. Besides, on the paperwork we handed you, should you have actually read it, you would have noticed that it’s not only Justin Taylor who’s suing you, but Brian and Justin Taylor-Kinney otherwise known as the Taylor-Kinney Corporation. Go home, Michael, but then you’ve heard those words before, haven’t you? It’s why you’re back here in the Pitts. David didn’t want you; Ben doesn’t want you, and Brian certainly DOES NOT WANT YOU! I think that’s about the same volume he used on Saturday when he told you to your face. Perhaps it’s time you not just heard it, but actually listened. Mom, we’ll see you and Molly for dinner tonight at the loft.’

“Okay, dear. Do I need to bring anything?” I ask in the same conversational tone he’s using.

It’s as if he didn’t just blow Michael’s identity and whole world apart as he’d known it. I have to hold in my laugh and keep my face neutral as I know good and well where Justin has picked that up from. I used to think Brian was such a bad influence on my son, but the truth is that he’s helped turn the boy I used to know and raised into a very strong man. I couldn’t be prouder of either of them.

“No, just yourselves. Besides I think it’s time Gus officially met his Auntie Molly. He and Mel are coming over as well. We have to talk about the new house.”

“New house? New fucking house?!” Michael screeches. “I’m standing here practically homeless and you’re rubbing it in my face about a new house?!”

“Oh sorry, Michael, I honestly forgot you were still standing there. I would have thought by now that you would have left to go secure your old room at your mother’s house, since there’s nothing more you can do here,” Justin says, and how he sounds so damn innocent I’ll never know. The other patrons still watching are snickering and probably wondering the same exact thing.

“Fuck you, Justin!”

“We’ve already established that you’re not anybody’s type. So that is still not an option. Go play with your toys, Michael while you still can. Oh wait! You can’t do that either since Mom owns that building and per the court order we obtained when we confiscated the ledgers, you aren’t allowed there. Who knew that cease and desist order covered so much? Well again, I have to get back. Brian, Daph, and Cyn are waiting for me in the car to go to Headquarters. I left Brian in the car, knowing exactly what Mr. Pre-DICK-table would try.”

“Brian’s here?!” Michael screeches at the same time I ask, “Brian actually agreed to stay in the car?”

He smiles brightly. “I used my powers of twink persuasion. They haven’t steered me wrong yet. I’ll see you later, Mom.” As he leans in to kiss my cheek, he says, “Security’s waiting. And Mollusk, good looking out! Keep up the good work, kid!”

Molly smiles at him, “You too, Jester. I’ll call when we’re on our way.”

I laugh at my children who really have grown up so much right before my eyes, before turning back to Michael. “Well, Mr. Novotny, I guess there’s nothing left to say except… SECURITY!” And true to Justin’s word, they were just waiting for me to give the order. They hurried in, and without giving Michael time to whine, bustled him out.

I know that this isn’t the end of the matter; I’ll have to deal with Mama Bear, after all. But somehow, I still live in hope that Deb will wise up now that Michael has been exposed for the conniving cunt he is. But then again, perhaps she’ll just be happy to have her baby back in his bed under her roof, because Lord knows she’s never really allowed him to grow the fuck up. Should definitely be interesting to see which way the wind blows in that quarter. I actually wonder who will be sorrier by the end of this whole episode.

Neither of them feel as though they have done anything wrong, but I don’t doubt that with Brian out of the way, they will begin to blame each other. Of course, I’m not delusional enough to believe that everyone else, including Brian, won’t be blamed before they get to the point when they realize what happens when you point fingers. There are always three of your own pointing back and accusing you, too. A lesson that neither of the Novotnys have ever learned, but one they are about to reap in spades. I shake my head at that thought.

The whining and screeching will be heard all over Pennsylvania, and not just in Pittsburgh.