PROLOGUE

"Justin, thank you again for agreeing to bring Gus home from the Center and stay with him this evening. What with Mel having a full day in court and needing to stay late at the office, and then this last-minute stuff that came up at the gallery, I had no way of picking up Gus. So, thank you again," Lindsay says to me the minute she comes flying into the house.

"No problem. You know I love the little guy. He was so good, too. After he ate, I bathed him and read to him for a while before he fell asleep."

Lindsay smiles at me. "He always does that whenever you read him a story," she tells me. "There's just something so relaxing about your voice to him.  Plus, he feels so safe and comfortable with you." 

I can't help my face flushing over the praise as I smile back at her. "He's a special little boy," I reply softly. "I love reading to him."  She nods back at me as I glance over at their living room clock hanging on the wall. "Wow, I didn't realize how late it's getting; I'd better get going," I tell her regretfully. 

"I have most of my homework done, but I still have a little left to finish." I turn to go before I ask, "Oh, did you hear I got 1500 on my SATs? Dad was so happy. And he's starting to come around about my attending PIFA instead of Dartmouth after I promised that maybe I could look into taking a business course at Carnegie Mellon."

Lindsay's eyes grow wide with shock as she replies, "You got into PIFA? When did this happen?"

"Oh, I thought your parents would have told you by now. They were over a few nights ago for dinner. They seemed very excited for me and spent an hour looking through my latest sketches and paintings. They also told Mom and Dad that they would be fools if they let my talent go to waste. You know, I couldn't have asked for better or more supportive godparents. I'm so happy that our families have remained so close all these years! Hey, you never know! Maybe if I'm lucky, someday you'll be hosting a show for me at Bloom's."

"Did they now?" I hear her mutter, her face creased. Is she angry with me? 

"Lindsay, something wrong? You sounded funny for a minute."

She immediately reassures me. "No, sorry. Just a long day. Here, let me get you something to drink for your ride home. Juice or soda?"

"A juice would be nice. Thank you for thinking of that."

She smiles. "No problem; I'll be right back," she tells me as she heads for the kitchen.

I walk over and look at the pictures on the mantel while I wait for Lindsay. I pick up a 5" X 7" chrome picture frame and stare at it curiously. Hmm...this must be a new one. I wonder who the guy is holding Gus. I've never seen him before. Whoever he is, he's gorgeous. I should ask Lindsay about him. Mom and Dad have been so supportive since I told them I'm gay. I was a little nervous about how Dad and the Petersons were going to take it, but everybody's been really understanding, telling me they have kind of suspected it for a long time. Also saying it didn't change me from the boy they've known for seventeen years.

"Here you go, Justin. Again, thanks for coming over." I grasp the bottle in my hands as some liquid spills from the top.

"Hey, did you know the lid isn't closed tight?" I ask her as I screw it on more tightly.

"Yeah, I opened it to make sure it was still good. I've had the juice for a while. But it still smelled fresh." I nod as she reaches into her pocket. "Here's $20 for you, too, for picking Gus up and bringing him home. Do drive carefully going home," she tells me while opening the door.

"I will... tell Mel I said hello and that I'm sorry I missed her."

"I'll make sure to do that, Justin. Bye, now," she says, closing the door behind me. As I'm climbing into Mom's car, I realize I never asked her about the man in the picture. Oh, well. I can ask her next time.

When I get home, I throw the empty juice bottle in the garbage and grasp tightly onto the railing as I head upstairs toward my room. I'm starting to feel funny; I must be more tired than I thought. So much for studying.

I barely make it to my room before I collapse on my bed. It's then I realize something is very wrong. My throat feels like it's constricting and I can barely breathe. I'm dizzy and the room seems to be spinning. Oh, shit! Where's my EpiPen? Oh crap, it's in the bathroom. I try to get up, but I can't move. What did I ingest? My mind whirls, and then I remember the juice Lindsay gave me. Fuck, it must be a new allergy! I claw the sheets on the bed, trying to force myself to move, to breathe. But as my throat closes up completely, all I'm able to do is close my eyes and let the inevitable happen.

My heart mourns for what could have been as I slowly descend into darkness. So many plans and dreams that will never happen now. I think of the man in the picture. Smoldering hot looks, dark hair. His eyes looked green... were those gold flecks in them? I wish I would have had a chance to draw him.

Just before I lose consciousness, I think of Daphne. I wish I could have called my best friend before going to meet my Maker. I would have liked to say goodbye and tell her that I've already seen the nameless Face of God. Fate had other plans, though, I think, as I let out a weak moan as my body went limp.

TBC