Brian paced back and forth in his hotel room, playing everything that he'd done in preparation in his mind. Something still didn't feel right. There was no margin for error here. Everything had to be perfect if the transfer could be completed. He dragged a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than he already had done in the past hour - for once, uncaring about his appearance. That alone was a self-defining moment.

He glanced toward the bed, his eyes quickly assessing what he had assembled so far. He was wearing a suit that befitted the time to which he hoped to travel. No, he whispered vehemently to himself - it was the time to which he would travel. He had also discarded any objects that would identify him as from the present day and time, and rather associated himself with what a man from 1937 would possess. He would be traveling with a large sum of cash in his pockets; realistically an amount that he would have to safeguard upon his arrival. Brian had no idea what sort of men he would find during that time... the only thing that mattered was finding one man. A hopeful, yet pained smile fell across his lips. Justin. He had to find him. After he had learned so much about the young, beautiful man - he had to know him. No other reality could exist for him.

Brian looked at the old cassette recorder he'd purchased in town, the tool that would supply the steady repetition to will his mind and body into a relaxed state of being. A process that would take him to another place and time. An idle that Brian wasn't certain he'd want to return from. He began to move swiftly around the room, removing all that he could that would remind him of this present time. Once he arrived in the past, he knew it wouldn't matter so much. Brian realized while he was attempting to force his mind to grasp this new reality, he couldn't have anything that reminded him of his present world. Paintings and all other modern-day décor that were placed in the room were now out of place, deep in the back of the closet, completely out of his view. Once he could push the knowledge of their existence from his mind, he would be much closer to beginning his journey.

Unable to dispel the thought that something still wasn't right, Brian moved toward the window, glancing out at his spectacular view... yet seeing very little of it. He watched the people coming and going, cars moving slowly by; in this, he felt he already was in another time. No one seemed to move in a rush here. It was as if the Grand Hotel magically changed those who inhabited it. Brian held a fierce desire to be one deeply affected by whatever magic this elegant and welcoming hotel possessed. His eyes focused on the vehicles more intently, a sharp expletive tumbling from his lips. "Of course. My fucking car. It doesn't fit." Logically he knew that didn't really matter. When he went back in time, his current automobile wouldn't exist... so it wouldn't be here. But he needed something to more firmly attach him to the time.

A ludicrous thought immediately occurred to him. One that signified that he had more than teetered on the brink of insanity. Sitting down at the small desk, he opened his laptop (while making a quick mental note... remove the laptop from visible sight), Brian typed in a search for classic automobiles - preferably one that was close to the location. After searching pages and pages of entries, Brian found precisely the one he most wanted - a 1937 Ford Coupe. In what color he couldn't clearly discern, but it appeared to be candy-apple red. Fuck yeah, Brian thought. He didn't even care how much it was going to cost him. All he knew was one thing. It would impress the young man he was almost desperate to find. This car would only be an added attraction to the overwhelming Kinney magnetism. Brian smiled as the hunt began to soar within him. This was perfect. Now, he just had to manage the car to be delivered at the exact place and time.

Brian picked up the phone, hoping the salesman would look more at the large cash sale and not the request attached. This was the only way to have the car at the hotel exactly when he needed it. Brian was quick and more than direct to the point when he was connected with the senior salesman. "Good afternoon. My name is Brian Kinney, and I'm looking to purchase an automobile listed in your online catalog."

"Of course, Sir." The monotone voice perked up immediately. "Which one can I assist you with today?"

Reciting the make and model, Brian smiled as the whistle escaped. He rolled his eyes condescendingly when the dealer asked if he'd like an appointment to test drive the model, as well as set up financing. The man was simply aghast when Brian stated he wished to complete the purchase today, with delivery to commence tomorrow.

"But Sir, this is highly irregular. There are legalities to oversee. Finalization usually doesn't occur over the phone," the man sputtered indignantly.

"I understand. I will have my associate handle the legal matters. The most important thing is that the vehicle is delivered to my hotel as soon as the transaction is finalized," Brian told him emphatically.

"Very well, Mr. Kinney, but this is quite a rush. Usually, things don't move that quickly." Clearing his throat, preparing to do all he could to make such a large sale happen, he asked, "Where will the car be delivered?"

Brian smiled, knowing this was when the real panic from the salesman would begin. He gave him the address of the Grand Hotel, stating he could leave his keys at the front desk. When the man began to hyperventilate, Brian laughed. "I understand this is unorthodox, but I trust the staff here implicitly. There is one condition... following this, will garner you a ten-thousand-dollar bonus."

A loud swallow followed. "What might that be, Sir?"

"I want the sale date and the delivery date to read October 19th, 1937." Brian bit his lip as he waited for the eruption. He didn't have to wait for long.

"1937! Sir, I am sure I heard you incorrectly!"

"You heard me right. It is a long story, and one that I'm not inclined to tell, but I trust that you can make this happen. I will just say that I am purchasing this as a gift... and the specifics have to be down to the last detail." Brian's voice became stern, an unrelenting quality that never ceased to produce results. "I am sure there are dealers elsewhere that would be more than willing to make this happen. Perhaps a different make and model, but I'm certain they would be more than willing to accept such a sizable bonus."

The salesman gasped. "Mr. Kinney, it's not that I don't want to help you... I just don't understand the need for such subterfuge. This condition is highly unordinary, not to mention it's possibly illegal. In fact, I know doctoring a title would be... and regarding the vehicle registration - well, it isn't even possible!"

Brian grunted. "Everything is possible when you want it badly enough." As soon as Brian spoke the words, in his mind's eye, all he could see was the beguiling vision of Justin Taylor, the reason he was doing all this. Brian wasn't certain how to get around this little setback, but he was determined that the car would be traveling with him. "Okay, let's do this, then. Make the title out however you feel you must... but the delivery date must be on October 19th, 1937. In addition, the title and registration will be given to my associate. I can't have any documents inside the vehicle."

"That would dispense with the legal problems, but Sir... the car can't be delivered over seventy years into the past. Surely you understand that?" the man asked, obviously at a loss in how to make his obviously delusional client understand the impossibility of his request.

"I only ask that you humor me on this. Of course, I realize that the car will be delivered tomorrow. However, for the sake of appearances, I need it to state October 19th, 1937, as the delivery date. I'm paying you a large sum of money. Surely you can do that..."

A long, and weary sigh followed. Brian knew it signified the man thinking he was dealing with someone who'd lost their mind... and he might very well be correct. Regardless of not being face to face with this man, Brian knew he would win. The sale was immense, and compiled with a ten-thousand-dollar bonus... it was practically a sure thing. Brian smiled in satisfaction when the man grudgingly agreed.

"Very well. I will prepare the documents to read on that delivery date. I will deliver the car myself to avoid any incidents."

Brian at once had a thought that hadn't occurred to him initially. "I forgot to check, how long has your dealership been in business?" This was vital. If the car dealership hadn't existed in 1937, this was all for nothing. And regarding the dealer's comment of delivering the car himself - he wouldn't dispute that claim. That wouldn't be possible, either. Not if everything went according to plan.

"We were established in 1929," he answered, frowning as he pondered why this even mattered.

"Very well, then. I will have my associate stop by today to complete the sale. It has definitely been a pleasure doing business with you..." Brian purred, knowing this car would complement the irresistible image he wanted to present of himself to Justin Taylor.

"I look forward to it, Mr. Kinney. I hope you have a wonderful day."

The call ended soon after, with Brian thinking this could be the most wonderful of days. Today he was completing the process of fulfilling what he intuitively felt to be his destiny. Immediately after ending the call, he contacted Ted, fully aware that his business manager and good friend would have a million questions... undoubtedly thinking he'd lost his mind. Ted had grown accustomed to Brian's unique way of doing things... but this, well, this was something far from the ordinary. After a long, strained conversation with Ted, Brian moved to complete the next step - preparing the audio cassette to continuously repeat the words that he hoped took him to where he would meet the man of his dreams.

Brian shook his head ruefully. Man of his dreams? Where the fuck did that lesbianic tripe come from? As Justin's face swarmed before his eyes, and Brian remembered the elderly version of Justin that had sought him out, Brian realized that was exactly what Justin was to him. He began the recording process, repeating the words over and over into the microphone. "It is October 19th, 1937. You are in the Grand Hotel. Soon you will meet Justin Taylor. He is in the hotel right now. It is October 19th, 1937. You are in the Grand Hotel. Soon you will meet Justin Taylor. He is in the hotel right now. It is October 19th, 1937. You are in the Grand Hotel. Soon you will meet Justin Taylor. He is in the hotel right now."

Sweat began to pour and cling to his skin... all of his energies generated toward reaching his goal. Brian didn't know how long he lay there repeating the words, the only sounds that he allowed to permeate his mind being those that he now spoke. Nothing was happening. All of his efforts only fatigued him. Fuck. Something is still missing. There was something else he either needed to do or know before he could complete the process. What the fuck was it? Hurriedly, he slid out of the bed, changing out of his period clothing and into more casual attire. He made his way to the only source that could give him the answers - The Hall of History - and to where his only glimpse of Justin currently resided.

He stared at the portrait almost angrily, as if Justin himself should be reaching out and finding a way to bring them together. Brian knew it made no sense in thinking this way, but he knew Justin had done his part by coming to him. Now it was up to him to find him again.

Again? Yes, that was it, Brian thought to himself. Obviously, they had met and loved in the past. Fuck! Loved? Brian dragged his hand through his totally ravaged hair, as he accepted what this man had to have meant to him. How he'd blocked it out, he didn't know. But he did know one thing for certain - he had loved Justin Taylor in another time. He would do so again. Forcing himself to walk away from Justin's beautiful image, Brian scanned the contents of the room more analytically... his eyes narrowing on the large registration book held within the locked case. "That's it..." Brian whispered under his breath.

Uncaring of the lateness of the hour, Brian sought out the only person that could give him answers. It was truly a blessing that Arthur had been here for all these years. That was more beneficial than anything. Once he had awakened the older man, Brian quickly received the answers to his questions. There was an attic that contained old hotel records - in particular, guest registration books. Taking the flashlight Arthur provided, Brian ran toward the attic as if his life depended on it. If nothing else, he felt his sanity certainly did. His eyes scanned the old and dusty room, until he finally found the volume he needed.

He flipped through the pages urgently, yet anxious about what he could find. A slight smile curved his lips as he viewed Justin's name in the book. He turned a couple of more pages, his eyes skimming over every signed line... and then he found it. In his distinctive handwriting was the signature, Brian Kinney from Chicago, Illinois. The room number was 416 with the sign-in time. Brian's breathing quickened as he accepted what all of this truly meant. "I was here. We were here together. And we will be together again!"

Brian returned to his room, changed back into his suit, his eyes quickly sweeping the room to ascertain everything to be in order. He made certain he had all the cash in his pockets, as he began to play the tape recording. It is October 19th, 1937. You are in the Grand Hotel. Soon you will meet Justin Taylor. He is in the hotel right now." Almost as an afterthought, Brian slid the tape recorder under the bed, realizing it needed to be out of sight. He now knew everything that would disassociate his mind from the present and take him back to his time with Justin. Lying down on the bed as he willed his body to relax and feel nothing but the words drilling into his mind, Brian knew with a certainty he didn't want to return to this time. His life was with Justin. Soon they would meet again. He wished he could remember how they had been severed before, but he decided that didn't matter. Whatever had happened would be done differently this time.

This was no longer a simple matter of destiny, it was now a question of his own reality. Both destiny and reality would be made right tomorrow.

TBC