Chapter 1

MICHAEL:

I am so sick of this shit. All I ever hear is ‘Michael, do this. Michael, do that'. David treats me like his wife, instead of his partner. He won't allow me to get a job or have any friends of my own. The only time I'm allowed out of the house is to buy his groceries (because God forbid, if I should buy one thing that isn't on his list), pick up his dry cleaning, or contact caterers for his dinner parties. He won't allow me to put out any of my collectibles or even unpack them. Apparently, they aren't aesthetically pleasing enough for his home, whatever the hell that means.

"Michael! Are you listening to me?"

"Huh? What? Did you say something?"

"Michael, I asked you if you picked up my coat from the cleaners today. It's starting to get chilly in the evenings, and I don't want to be without it if the need arises."

SEE? "David, I'm sorry, but I didn't have time today."

"What do you mean, ‘not enough time today'? You had nothing else to do. Surely you had time to run to the cleaners."

"And, why is it that I had enough time? Because you hold me prisoner here and won't allow me to do anything. You know, I should have listened to Brian when he told me this was a mistake."

"A mistake, Michael? If you're not happy here, you can always go home. Actually, that sounds pretty good right now. Go home, Michael. Go home."

THAT EVENING IN THE GUEST BEDROOM

Now, what am I going to do? I can't go back to the Pitts and face Ma and the guys. Ma will go through the roof and blame me. And after the yelling stops, she will cuff me on the head, and you can be sure it won't be a gentle slap, either. What's up with that anyway? I'm thirty, not ten. You would think I'd have grown out of that stage.

I suppose I could go to New York and stay with Brian for a while. Hmm, that actually sounds like a good idea. I bet Brian's new place is a lot bigger and nicer than the loft in Pittsburgh. We could hang out all the time. Become ‘Brian and Mikey' again. Brian would let me have my collectibles out and wouldn't bitch at me all the time. Sounds like Heaven.

THE NEXT DAY

I'm in hell. David would only spring for economy. I'm sitting between this fat, ugly, old man, who smells like three-day-old sweat, and this young mother with a screaming baby. We've only been in the air for fifteen minutes and I'm ready to jump out the window. There's no way I'll be able to sit here for another three hours until this plane stops in Minneapolis. Yeah, Minneapolis. Of all the godforsaken places we could have had a layover; I get fucking Minneapolis. If that's not bad enough, I have to wait another three hours for my connecting flight to New York. David was ever-so-kind to give me a hundred and fifty bucks for this new venture of mine. And boy was he pissed I was going to New York. For a minute, I thought I might have to hitch. He promised he would send all my stuff to Brian's after I get settled, as I didn't have Brian's address yet. I remembered he got a job with Kennedy and Collins, so I just hope someone will be able to tell me how to get there. David assured me I could find a cheap motel for the night for seventy bucks. It doesn't leave me with much else for this damn flight, as I will have to cover cab fare too. I guess a couple of candy bars will have to suffice for dinner.

"Stewardess? Ma'am, could I please get a different seat? My eardrums are going to burst pretty soon. This kid has some mighty powerful lungs on him."

"Her."

"Huh?"

"You said... him. She's a girl. And I'm sorry, but she's been colicky lately and the doctor said she's probably teething."

Looking back at the stewardess with my puppy dog eyes, I asked again.

"Please?"

"Gather your items together, sir, and come with me. We only have two empty seats this morning, so I certainly hope one will be suitable for you."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I got up and followed her.

Noticing the two empty seats, I could only hope she would seat me next to the guy who looked yummy and good enough to eat. I was certain I could interest him in the mile-high club if given the chance, but unfortunately, we passed him by and I got granny. Please God, don't let her be chatty, I silently prayed.

NEW YORK

Finally! We will be landing in about ten minutes. I've had an eleven-hour day with little to nothing to eat. I need food, a shower, and a bed with a pillow to lay my weary head on. It's definitely too late to call Brian to meet me at the airport, so I guess I have to spend money on a taxi.

Granny told me I could get on a bus at the airport and be dropped off at Grand Central Station or one of the other hubs in midtown. But I still might have to take a taxi to my motel from there. I just think a taxi would be the fastest way to go and I wouldn't have to put up with any other people today.

By the time I get to my rat-infested dump, I can hardly hold my pounding head up. I was way too tired to even ask the cab driver to stop at a McDonald's. As hungry as I was on the plane, I don't think I have the energy to eat anymore. Looking around this smelly shithole I managed to find to stay tonight, I'm almost having second thoughts about sleeping in that bed. It looks dirty and the covers are slightly messed up. I shudder to think that the sheets might still be left over from the last customer.

Walking into the bathroom, I find part of the reason for the stink. Whoever used the toilet last had not flushed it. The tub was full of rust and there was a steady drip falling. I grab some tissue to use on the toilet handle as I flush the toilet. I decide to forgo a shower. I grab what towels were hanging there, as I decide it would be better to sleep on them, than the sheets covering the bed.

I cringe as I carefully crawl onto the bed - then laying my last towel on the pillow - I was soon asleep.

~ ¤ ~

When I awake the next morning, I'm surprised it's already eleven o'clock. If I hurry, I might be able to catch Brian before he leaves for lunch.

I arrive at Kennedy and Collins around twelve-thirty. Imagine my surprise when I find that bitch, Cynthia, sitting at Brian's receptionist desk.

"Hey, is Brian in?"

"Michael? What are you doing in New York?"

"Not that that's any of your business, but I came to visit my best friend."

"Brian's awfully busy. I'm not sure if he'll have time to visit."

"Listen, lady. Just get Brian on the phone. There's no way he won't see me. I'm his..."

"Best friend, I know, Michael."

I watch as she takes her time picking up the receiver. I can barely contain my happiness at hearing his voice come through the phone and the anticipation of seeing him again. These last three months have been the longest time that we've been apart since we met when we were fourteen.

"Brian, Michael is here to see you."

". . ."

"Yes, Michael."

What's going on? How many Michael's does he know? "Christ, Cynthia. Tell him it's Mikey."

". . ."

"I'll tell him that. Sorry to bother you, boss."

"Michael, Mr. Kinney said that he's too busy to see you right now. He has a pitch in an hour he needs to prepare for."

"Fuck that! I came almost three thousand miles to see him." Who does this bitch think she is? Of course, Brian wants to see me!

I ignore her protests as I make my way around her desk toward Brian's office. Without knocking, I open the door and barge in before Artemis can stop me.

"Brian, you need to fire that bitch you call your secretary. She said you wouldn't see me. I know that's a lie; you would never turn me away, especially after I've come three thousand miles."

"Michael, what are you doing here? Why are you here and not in Portland? And before you go off again, I did tell Cynthia I couldn't be bothered right now. I'm working, in case you aren't aware that this is an advertising agency and this is my office."

"Brian, come on. Is that any way to greet me? Aren't you happy to see your best friend? I've missed you so much. I just had to come and see you."

"Michael... I really don't have the time to talk right now. I have last-minute revisions to make for a pitch I'm supposed to give in forty-five minutes. You need to leave. NOW!"

"But, but, Brian. You can't be serious. I need to know where you live so I can stay there tonight."

Chuckling, Brian said, "No can do, Michael. My place isn't big enough. Now, run along and let me work. This account is important to the agency, and for me, and I intend to win it. I can't do that with you standing here."

"Brian, if you don't let me stay with you tonight, I'll be sleeping on a park bench."

"Sorry, Michael. Why are you here, anyway? Where's David? Stay with him."

"David's still in Portland. We broke up. I want to live with you. You know, Brian and Mikey, fierce defenders of the universe and queers everywhere."

"Jesus Christ, Michael, grow up! We're thirty, not fourteen. If you can't go back to Portland, then head back to Pittsburgh. I'm sure your mother would be happy to see you. She's probably missed her little boy. Now, go home, Michael. Go back to the Pitts, or anywhere but here. Go. Home."

"Cynthia!!!"

"Yes, Boss?"

"If Mr. Novotny won't leave on his own accord, please call security and have him removed from my office and this building. We aren't running a childcare agency."

~ ¤ ~

What the hell just happened in there? Brian acted like he was mad at me. I've only gotten a couple of emails from him the whole time I've been gone, regardless of the fact I was emailing him at least once a week. He can't possibly be mad at me. Why would he be? And since when does he refer to me as Mr. Novotny? If I dared to contact Ma...

I make my way back to the motel. I don't have enough money left for another night. Hmm, I guess I will be sleeping on a park bench. Maybe Brian will change his mind after the pitch and accept a phone call from me. That must be it. He's probably really stressed out right now.

I stand in shock as I stare at my bags sitting outside the door to the motel. I start to go in, but the big dude at the desk is shaking his head at me.

"If you come in here, you owe me another forty dollars for a late check-out."

"Did you have to put my things out here? Anybody could have stolen them! I should report you to the cops."

"Go ahead. I'm sure my brother down at the station will have a good laugh. They don't get many of them around here."

"Get many, what?"

"How fucking stupid are you, man. Laughs. I said they don't get many of them. You know, we're in New York. How many fucking laughs do you think they get at a police department here? Now run along. I don't need any vagrants hanging around my fine establishment."

Mumbling something about fine establishments, I pick up my bags and start walking. It took a while as I made my way back to Kennedy and Collins. I figured I could wait Brian out and follow him home to see where he lives. I would gauge his mood as he came out tonight, and see if I dare approach him, or if I should wait until tomorrow.

~ ¤ ~

When Brian finally emerges at six-thirty, he looks like he could kill someone. So, I figure my plan to confront him will have to wait until tomorrow. I try to stay behind, far enough away so he won't see me, as he walks down the sidewalk. Less than three blocks later, I notice him going into a building. It looks pretty high class. I rush to catch up and see what it's called; 1214 Fifth Avenue. I look at the doorman, dressed in a black, three-button suit with antique gold trim, plus a matching hat and overcoat, complete with gloves. Wow! Brian's really living it up. This is definitely the good life! David's house had nothing on this place.

Someone was coming towards the door and I heard the doorman asking him if he needed a taxi today.

"No thank you, Nigel. I feel like walking today."

Hmm, Nigel. I better file that away for tomorrow.

I decide to leave. I had noticed Central Park as I was coming here today. I guess I may just as well go over there. I come upon a food truck called Potluck Cafe Food Truck. I'm not sure what kind of food they sell, but it smells pretty amazing.

"What are you all selling in there?"

"You can get pizza slices, but our specialty is Philly Cheesesteak. It's also the best this side of Philadelphia."

"How much for the cheesesteak?'

"Five bucks."

"Okay, give me one of them."

I don't have to wait long, and he actually makes it fresh with me standing there. By this time I am dying to unload my bags and sit down. My legs are feeling like jello, and I'm afraid I might fall.

As I get closer to a bench, I notice an older woman sitting there, reading. She doesn't look to be the chatty type, so I sit down on the bench.

What a relief. My bags out of my hands and my legs are finally getting a rest. I unwrap the cheesesteak and take a bite. Either I'm starving or these are a little piece of heaven. I figure a little of both. I eat slowly, relishing each bite, trying to figure out what to do and where I could store my bags.

"Looks like you enjoyed your food."

I guess I was wrong. At least I got to eat in silence.

"Yeah. I've never had one of them before. I got it over at the Potluck food truck."

"I've heard of it. My son really enjoys it."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I need to get going. You wouldn't happen to know where I could store my bags for a while, do you?"

"There's a luggage storage facility about a half-mile down that way."

As she points in the direction I need to go, I ask, "What's it called?"

"LuggageHero."

"Luggage... hero?"

LuggageHero, young man. One word. Capital L, Capital H."

"How much is the charge?

"I've never personally used it before, but I've heard it's pretty reasonable."

I'm once again walking, and my legs are starting to feel sore now, instead of like jello. I know it shouldn't take much more than ten minutes to get there, but by the time I asked twice for directions and walked slowly on sore, tired feet, almost twenty-five minutes had passed. It cost me twelve dollars for the day. They wouldn't rent it out for two days, saying it's a one-day storage facility. I figure that should be okay, because by tomorrow evening, I plan to be ensconced in Brian's luxury apartment.

I make my way back down to an area of the park that didn't seem too busy and settle myself under a large, shady tree. I assume it's an elm tree, but I was too tired to really care and it really didn't matter to me.

Before I know it, I'm sound asleep.

TBC