CHAPTER 6 - MEMORIES...FROM LAST NIGHT AND A SAVIOUR FROM SCHOOL

MICHAEL’S HOUSE - NEXT MORNING

STUDY

MICHAEL

I rub my eyes hard. This morning has been terrible, although a slight improvement on the horrific night! The courier didn’t come, and my calls aren’t being returned. This followed me not being able to get it up for Jerome. I blamed it on stress and being drunk, which he understood, although I’m not sure, as this is not the first time it’s happened! 

The only glimmers of hope are the decimation of Kinney’s life and the bringing to heel of Boyd. Jerome went to his house last night, well that’s where he said he was when he called him. Oh, how I enjoyed the panic in his voice during that call! The use of my PR skills will soon get Justin out of Kinney’s orbit. After all, who wants to be associated with a chickenhawk, no matter how rich and good looking? Although something Ma, or was it Uncle Vic, said may have merit. I might just reach out to him to see what I can do to help matters. But how do I do that? We didn’t exactly part on good terms, either at school or in the diner.

“Michael, is everything okay?” Why Kip is here? My mind is still a little foggy. “You okay?” On hearing sounds of life from upstairs, I realise he needs to be gone! “So the package is…”

“I’ll bring it to the office. I want to check it over first.” I take his elbow and pull him to the side door before Ma or Uncle Vic can see him and blab to Lindsay about me having company; they know about her rule about nobody but family in our home! “See you there.” He’s out before he can say another word.

“Hi, Michael, where are you?!” Lindsay calls as she comes through the front. “Did you have a nice time last night? Who was that?” She nods at the still closing door.

“I was checking for the courier, he’s late.” I state whilst trying to figure out when and how he came to be here!

“That’s unusual.” She frowns sitting opposite me. “I’ll call them. Sometimes it just needs a woman’s touch.” I’m about to be witty about her womanliness when Uncle Vic and Ma come in. I can target my rage at them instead. They’ll accept it quietly until the check clears. “I suggest you go deal with your family business; leave this with me.”

Nodding, I head to the lounge, ready to unleash my annoyance. “Which leech am I making the check out to this time?”

“The leeches...” Uncle Vic returns, I look up, expecting a scornful look, but there’s the acceptance of their fate my money buys. “... need it by bank transfer please.”

“Why? That’s not what we normally do.”

“We want to pay for the renovations to our home in Spain; a check will take too long to clear.” Ma replies. I scowl at them. “What’s wrong? You knew we were renovating.” 

“Yes, I did. I would rather do a check. Why don’t I just pay the renovators directly instead.”

“Because we’ve got the arrangement with them; you’d have to be credit checked etc.; it would take too long. Obviously, we’d stay until both you and it clears. Why do you want to do that anyway, are you trying to keep tabs on us?”

“Of course not!” I exclaim, which for once is true. Their lives are so mundane it would bore me to sleep. “So whose bank account?”

“The one for our household bills, here’s the details.” Uncle Vic smirks as he hands them to me; gritting my teeth I make the payment. Whilst their lives are mundane, their spending habits are not. I’m not sure where they’ve got their financial acumen from, but because of it and my stipend, they’ve managed to build up enough to have that three bed in Barcelona, which, despite my subtle and heavy hinting, they’ve not invited me to. “That’s gone through. So we will be seeing you.”

“Where are you going?” I frown.

“You told us to get up early and leave first thing, so bye.” I watch them swagger out, arm in arm, feeling aggrieved that I still can't remember why Kip was here. I’m still watching them from the window when Lindsey's tapping gets my attention. “Well, what do they have to say for themselves?”

“Adjust your tone, and, maybe after coffee, I’ll tell you!” She snaps, slamming her way back out. 

KITCHEN - FIVE MINUTES LATER

LINDSAY

I chuckle to myself, knowing exactly what else ails him today, he’s gone on ad-nauseous about how he satisfies Jerome; little does he know that, apart from financially, he doesn't; so he's relieved when he can’t rise to the occasion. And twice last night he couldn’t!

Something by the back gate catches my eye, thinking it’s the courier I open the window, but it’s not them. It's Kip. I ponder what he’s doing here and how he found our address; he’s no threat, it's just I value my privacy. I’m about to call out to him when Michael opens the side door. Figuring he’ll deal with him, I go to close the window...

“What are you doing back?! Lindsey's here, you know how she gets!”

“Yeah, but I was careful to wait until the Old Stink was inside first!” He sneers, Michael snickers. “I left my phone, think it’s on the sofa.” He disappears and is quickly back with it. Drat! I had seen it and thought it looked familiar! “Thanks for letting me sleep here; hope last night was alright? Any news on the courier?”

“Last night? What about…oh, that, yeah that was fine. Not yet, she’s called them. But as usual, her society ass is in a knot about my tone. I’m majorly hungover, have already had to handle family shit, so dealing with a crabby Miss Manners is not on my radar!” He leans against the door jamb, looking sickly. Kip steps back. “It’s okay, not gonna puke. Can you please call them urgently? Ask to be put through to Leon, use those exact words, then on and my date of birth, okay?” 

He nods. “Your date of birth? Why, and what is it?” I bite back a laugh at the peeved expression on Michael’s face. 

“We’ve worked together for so long, how do you not know it?”

“I’m a Jehovah’s Witness, we don’t celebrate them.” He replies.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Learn something new. Anyway, it’s 29 February, 1971. As for why, just do it. And give my name when they ask.” Kip nods, then with a squeeze to his arm hurries away.

I watch Michael slowly close the door, looking very confused. So whatever happened last night with him, he doesn't remember. I shall find out, and Miss Manners Old Stink will make sure they regret it!

KIP’S CAR - TEN MINUTES LATER 

KIP

I wait to be connected to the website company and think back to last night. He’s a terrible kisser, all slobber and grabby, but it happened, and when he pisses me off, I shall show him the video to, as he says, bring him into line. 

“Yes, hello, need to be put through to Leon on 29 February, 1971.” I listen to some thrash metal for hold music, which is doing nothing for my headache; this is not because of booze, but the racket a drunk snoring Michael was making at the other end of the sofa. A very comfortable sofa, I must admit. They've made a lot of moolah being the people they are. 

“Yeah, this is Michael, had a rough night. Listen, my wife called earlier, as the courier didn't show up. Oh, you’ve not called her back, well don't, just tell me.” I raise my eyebrows and know he’s going to be furious. “Well that’s your bad luck, isn’t it?!” I’m about to tell him to send another set; thereby solving the problem, when he reminds me of their usual practice. “So what do you suggest we do now?! He’s obviously going to go to ground and be on his guard! Return my money. Yes, I’m serious, I want it all back!” I snark, ending the call. I  breathe deep, then call him; he takes a while to pick up. 

“Michael, the courier guy’s car got broken into, all packages are gone…” I let him go on for a bit. “…as a matter of interest, why don’t they just send you the originals instead of destroying them at their end? Ah, that's what he used to do, was it? No, no reason. Well, actually it does seem an unnecessary step.” I smile as he thanks me for my astute observation and wonders why Old Stink hadn’t thought of that. I let him go take his sleeping pill so he doesn’t have to deal with her and a hangover. I drive off, happy that it will be a nice surprise for him when he gets his money back!

BRITIN - LATE AFTERNOON

BRIAN

This morning has been both confusing and discombobulating! Confusing because of the email I got via our website from Vic Grassi, of all people, but my discombobulation is not because last night Justin and Drew ended up staying. It’s what happened when Drew strutted by, now he’s feeling a bit of relief, and a fuckton - as Gus put it - of anger, that it was Michael that set him up; I felt absolutely nothing.

It’s Justin, well my reaction to Justin thats causing consternation. Considering the mutual appreciation we have for each other, whilst my cock is very interested in me leaping on his bones; last night when we were talking my brain joined the party and told my cock to shut up and wait! I’ve never waited for anything or anybody! Now he’s padding, half asleep, towards the bathroom. He mumbles a greeting. I take advantage of his sleepiness to observe the way he walks; his butt jiggle is mesmerising.

“Watch your direction, not his.” Mel’s amusement startles me as does being outside her bedroom! “Yes, I’m free, Brian! Come on in!” I frown, she nods down the hallway. Justin had stopped to check his phone, he blinks up at us, rubs his eyes, then disappears from view. “I don’t think he noticed.” She grins, standing aside. I wait for her to stop sniggering. “Coffee?” 

“Please. So what do you think of the email?”

“Ah-ah-ah, we’re going to discuss the lack of panthering on your part. First, let’s talk about Boyd. I understand, despite outward showing, that you’re a softheart, and you love Ems too much.” I remain tightlipped. “I know what you did. You wanted Boyd when he came onto you, but you overheard Ems drooling, so backed off, right? And have been bigging up Ems ever since?” I grin sheepishly. “Awww! Now Justin, this is an interesting move on your part, or lack thereof. He’s gotten under you, mentally, he’s gotten under you. I heard you two last night. I will reign in their enthusiasm to see you as happy as they are…”

“Oh God! Please do, at least they listen to you!” I grumble; before we grin at the softheartedness of the pair of them.

“So this email from Vic.” She sips her coffee. “I want to come with you when you go and meet him. You’re going to, right?”

“Yeah, and good, was gonna ask for back up.” I pause at the singing coming from the next room. “Ted’s got a beautiful voice. He left a recording for him last night…” My eyebrows do a happy dance. “...you know how much Ben likes opera.” 

“And you know how loud he gets.” She declares, draining her cup. “Before he starts beating his drum, we beat a retreat!” 

I nod, then pause. “What about Drew and Justin?”

“Ems has got Drew handled, I’m sure. I’ll sort out Justin.”

“Why you?”

“Because he looks utterly gorgeous when sleep rumpled. I won’t be bothered going to get him, knowing that he, being a society boy and not a boy scout. Will not have been prepared to be here overnight; chances are he’ll be going commando...” I shrug nonchalantly. “...think of kissing me or you’re going to take an eye out with that!”

My embarrassment and desire sets me on fire. I leave with as much dignity as I can at the guffawing truth of her words.

THE DINER - TWO HOURS LATER

OFFICE

VIC

The disapproval is writ large across his face. “Shall we start by introducing ourselves to your fr…”

“Attorney, Melanie Marcus, this is Victor Grassi and Deborah Novotny.”

My chuckling raises an eyebrow. “Not lost the ability to make an introduction feel like a kick in the balls.”

“Not gained the ability to hold your nephew and son accountable.”

“Brian, they came to us, be a nice shark.” Melanie chides him. “I’m sure you can…”

“He’s right, we should’ve stopped his behaviour a long time ago.” Debs interrupts. “We were very selfish. You see, Melanie, at home he was unrelenting, there was no escape. It was easier to give in, but after what he did to Ted, we’re here to help. And have only just found a way how to.”

“And that is? And please call me Melanie.” She smiles. He rolls his eyes.

“He looks like you.” Debs smiles. “The chicken, he’s the spitting image of…” He and Mel exchange looks. “...oh, both of you? Is that why you dropped out?” Again they look at each other, he shakes his head. When the hurt flickers across Debs’s face, I squeeze her hand. 

I clear my throat to bring his focus onto me. “Here, this came last night whilst he was out. Debs was all set to leave it in his study when it broke open. It's a file on you.” I slide it across the table. Mel takes it whilst his jaw ticks. “I asked him when the photo came out if he could help you. He said no, unless you reached out to him…” 

“I wouldn’t.” He clips out as he reads. “There’s nothing, apart from those photos, that aren’t public knowledge.” He stands. “I’m not putting our son in the public eye. I would rather be seen as a rich chickenhawk than do that!”

“May we bring in someone that might persuade you that our actions are honourable?” Debs asks. He sits down. “Go get him.” 

BRIAN

I take this opportunity to regard her. She looks exactly as I remember - just nervous and unsure. It is taking everything not to give her a bear hug, but until Mel’s not-yet-grip is off my knee, I can’t. As the door opens, Vic is trailed by a younger man. When they sit next to each other, it hits me who it is.

“Curtis, it is you, right?!” He nods, extending his hand, I shake it. “You’re looking so well! Sorry, this is Mel, he’s the jock I told you about from school. I don’t understand how you can help me with this problem.”

“I always wished I had your bravery and honesty.” He smiles.

“About?” Mel prompts as she puts the file in her briefcase. 

“Being gay. It took him a while, but he’s out and about now.” Debs beams. “And can attest that you’re not like that without bringing your son into it.”

“How? And I’d rather hear from him, please.” 

“By outing an actual chickenhawk.” He replies, taking Vic’s hand. “It’s been 17 years now, the longest 4 years ever was waiting for me to be 21.”

“Right out of school?!” Mel gasps. “How did you two meet?”

“Me!” Debs laughs. “He was struggling with his attraction to you, so he came to me. Took one look at Vic and you were forgotten.”

“Well fuck me!” I declare.

“I’m glad he didn’t or I wouldn’t have stood a chance!” Vic snickers before sobering. “We’re serious, he can out me to save you. We can go to the website people, and…”

“Why?” Mel’s grip is loosening.

“We’re emigrating to Florence…” Debs explains as Vic’s phone goes. “...he thinks we’ve got a place in Spain, so when that hits, he’ll be too busy trying to...”

“Get as far away from Drew Boyd as possible!” Vic exclaims. 

“Why, what’s he done?” Mel queries, gripping my knee again.

“Come out. And declared himself off the market because he’s dating a Mr Brian Kinney.”