CHAPTER 2 - THE CALL OF THE SIREN

UNCLE VIC

I grab my jacket and, taking advantage of the poleaxed Michael, rush after Brian; sadly by the time I make my way through the crowd he’s gone. I see a cab and grab it; I have to get somewhere safe to find out why he’s back!

MICHAEL

Brian, Brian’s in Pittsburgh! I need to get to Ma and tell her! In my haste, I drop my phone. By the time I find it, not only is it a mess, Uncle Vic is gone.

“Here, got you something from the tap.” As Daphne puts it down, I shake my head. “Are you leaving?” I would say something about her hopeful joy, but this is more important!

“Need to speak to Ma!” I scowl as David blocks me. “David, I need to get to Ma!”

“What on earth has happened? Is she injured?!” 

“Brian’s back! She’ll want to know, and Uncle Vic owes us an explanation! I’ll see you later! Move, David!” I order, pushing past him, like he did me earlier. My heart pounds because the love of my life is back, and I’m determined that he stays!

DAVID

“No, let him run home to Mommy.” I declare as Daph starts to follow. “Let’s get another round of these, and you can tell me about your trip.” 

“No more of these. Let’s get home and talk.” She replies, drinking quickly, indicating I should do the same. My confusion shows. “That way we can enjoy The Full Fifteen without his vinegary visage pooping in my picnic.”

“How many bottles?” I smile, helping her to finish his discarded beer.

“Sixteen.”

“You carried sixteen bottles of wine back?! That’s it, you’re going to see Gerard for a massage first thing in the morning!”

“Dad! Of course not, I carried three. There were thirteen at home.” She steers me out, shaking her head. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about them? I could’ve done with a glass during my mini meltdown.”

“Because it’s bad enough I’m sharing you with him; he’s not having any of our favourite!”

“He doesn’t like red wine.” I remind her, signalling for a cab. She steps in, scowling. “He doesn’t, neither of them do, as they've mentioned many, oh so many, times.”

“Dad.” She links our arms. “They like red wine; they just don't like the red wine that’s out . You had three major adjustments while I was gone. There were two full bottles before I left, now there is half of one. You never drink red when you’re adjusting.” 

“She might have cooked with it.” I suggest. Daphne scoffs. “Good point, but at least that would’ve added a bit of taste to those balls of hers!”

“She’s the only Italian mother I know who can’t cook! In fact, the only Italian mother thing she’s good at is smother-loving that boyfriend of yours. If only she’d use a pillow!”

I’m fine until I catch the cabbie’s eye. Soon we’re all hooting with laughter.

DEBS’S HOUSE - FORTY MINUTES LATER

KITCHEN

DEBS

We’re both quiet. I try Vic again, still no answer. “Top me up too!” I declare as he seems set to finish off the wine. 

“Sorry, Ma; I can’t believe it after all this time!” He shakily sits. “Is there anymore?”

“No, got beer, some of her faves!” I snark, he smirks. “What a fucking princess she is! How do you put up with her?” I kiss his cheek then open the beer. “Finish the wine first, honey.” As always, he does as he’s told with me. He’s such a good boy. “How did he look?”

“Apart from furious? He looked so good, Ma, so good.” He sighs dreamily, I hold my tongue on his continued mooning over Brian fucking Kinney. “In fact, he looks better! You’ve always said he was too skinny! He’s filled out!” 

“Finally learned to eat food rather than dick and ass then?!” I bitch. When he scowls slightly, I squeeze his hand. “Honey, he's been putting it about since junior high, don’t pretend otherwise. Now what did he say exactly?”

“Can’t remember; was too shocked, but the gist was why was Uncle Vic still alive and with me.” He nods at my phone, which is flashing. “Is it Uncle Vic?”

“No.” I sigh crossly, turning it face down again like I always do when I’m with my Michael. “I know, try social media!”

“What good will that do?” He calls out, heading for the laptop. “God, look at the time, we can do that after. We’ve got soaps and the marathon to watch!”

“You’re staying the night?!” I try not to sound too happy, but I can’t help it. I love having him back home.

“Might as well, he’s going to be pissy anyway.” My smile falters. “I think another boundaries, decorum and respect for his princess chat is on the horizon.”

“Respect works both ways; notice he let that Goldilocks snipe go without comment?!”  

“I did, and speaking of sleeping, I’ll have to leave early; make like I was on the sofa. You know what he's like; he likes me to sleep at our home now I’ve finally moved in.”

“Still don’t see why you have to live so far out. Takes me two buses and a cab to get there!”

“It’s near his practice.” He grumbles as he sets up. “I’m going to talk to him again about letting you use the practice service, it's not as if you’d use it all the time!”

“Exactly. Now come on, enough about boyfriends and ungrateful bastard best friends. It’s Ma and Michael time!”

“Yeah!” He whoops, covering us with the afghan and hitting play.

VIC’S HOME - FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

VIC

“Okay, thanks, Lisa. No, really, thank you. Sorry to have called so late, but you know the story.” I sit down and finally give way to tears. He looked utterly devastated; no heartbroken. Heartbroken and disappointed. 

My phone beeps again. I reread Debs’s text, knowing full well that her nestle-cocked runt ran whining to her, still not willing to admit it was him who chased Brian away. And I mean chased. Everywhere Brian went, he was. It was like he had him bugged or something! On the very rare occasions he got away, they were calling, demanding his return. Well, that bit them in the ass big time; for it was the night of Brian’s surprise birthday dinner, for which he was very late, that their frustrations boiled over.

Oh, how they lambasted and vilified him from pillar to post. No matter what Emmett and I tried to say, we were shouted down by the Five Horsebitches of Monstrosity. But when they said that he deserved the abuse he suffered as a child, and how shit a father he was going to be, but since he would most likely die and leave Gus something he'd do for now, that was it, we left. And so seemingly did Brian as we never saw or heard from him again, well they didn't.

The first inkling that something was wrong was the next afternoon. He wasn’t in the diner, nor was he answering their calls. Lindsay decreed that we should all go to the loft and confront the selfish asshole after all they did for him. When we got there, she and Michael were fighting over who was going to use their keys. It was only Mel pointing out that it was ajar that stopped them. Panic set in because he would never leave his loft like that. 

We found it pristine, as usual, but with a podcast blaring from the bathroom.

Start of flashback

BRIAN’S LOFT - EIGHT YEARS AGO

VIC

“BRIAN!” I hammer on the door.

“For fuck sake, Brian, come out of there! You owe us an explanation after all we did for you!” Michael screams.

“Everyone shut up!” Debs orders, moving me to one side. “Brian! It’s Debs, open the door or we’ll shoulder it in!” Still the podcast plays; her scowl starts to be replaced by fear. “You don’t think?”

“Move!” Emmett orders. “Michael! Ted! Come on!”

“Come on what?! That’s an oak door!” We're never getting that in!” Michael screeches.

“For crying out loud!” Mel snaps. “Anyone got a penny?!” I hand her one. “You’ve got two seconds, or I'm jimmying it, asshole!” Nothing. “Fine, if you're smoking in there, I shall drown you in your toilet!” 

It takes her five minutes to do the lock, during which we are imagining all sorts. When it opens, it’s empty, apart from his phone. She switches it off. “He would never go anywhere without this. The only thing that is closer to him than it is you, Michael. So where the hell is he?!”

“His clothes are still here!” Lindsay calls out. We join her in the bedroom. “Can’t have gone far or for long.”

“Guys!” Emmett is pointing at the TV. “There’s a note. It says, sit down and hit play.”

“I prefer to stand!” Lindsay snipes as I find the remote.

On screen is Brian. He’s pacing back and forth with a bottle of Beam in his hand. “So, my dearest two best friends, my mother, uncle, Honeycutt and Schmidt, so lovely, utterly lovely of you to throw that dinner. I was late as usual, but I had a good reason. I was buying you presents, but I’ve returned them. I heard every word you said. So here’s my final words to you - play Reel Big Fish.” The screen goes black before we all jump as the sounds of someone singing fuck you fills the room.

It takes us a few minutes to shut the music off before we contemplate what he’s said. “He can’t seriously have gone? Over a few drunken words!” Ted scoffs. “I knew he was a drama queen, but come on, everyone says fucked up stuff when drunk!”

“This is Brian Kinney!” I declare. “He never changes his mind!”

“He does, he’s just being a queenly queef!” Ted retorts.

“Ted!” Emmett shouts before stalking to the door. “I said that you would go too far, now you have! Get off that shit and pull the rest of your life together! He would never say such a thing about you, about any of us. You're disgusting!”

After he slams out, Ted rolls his eyes, his red rimmed eyes, and shrugs.”Well I’m going to bed, call me when he’s surfaced.”

Except there was no call. Nothing. It was only when the loft was sold that they began to realise he was never coming back. 

Except he did, once, I got sick; not too bad, but enough to be hospitalised. I told Debs and Michael not to come, as I knew I would be out soon; they didn’t, but he did. Late one night I opened my eyes and there he was, 

“How did you get here?” I whisper, patting the bed. He doesn’t move. “Brian.”

“Got a call. You okay?”

“Who from?” 

“Doesn’t matter. The person knew to call.” He starts to leave. “I thought you loved me.” He whispers. “Of all people, I thought you did.”

“I do!” I sob. “Oh son, how long were you out there?”

“Long enough.” He closes the door. Again, I pat. Whilst he does sit, he’s against the door and on the floor.

“They’re not returning from the convention. I insisted.” He snorts, I feel him roll his eyes. Nobody understands how Debs suddenly became interested in all things convention, having been bored to bloody tears before. We’re quiet for a while, then I have a thought. “Kiki! It was Kiki, wasn’t it?” He stands and turns on the light. My heart breaks, as he looks exhausted. “I want you to promise me to never come back.” He looks surprised. “This is our goodbye. I give you my word, I won’t tell them you were here.” 

“Thank you. And no, this isn’t our goodbye. I want to say it properly.” He sits by my side and writes something down. “My new number. Ring three times when I need to come back.” He kisses my forehead and gives me a hug, he’s skin and bone! “Tell Kiki I’m disconnecting that number.” I hold him tighter and shake my head. “What?”

“The convention is in Spokane, so go to mine, get some sleep. And eat before you leave. I want a promise you will do that.”

“My word is my Bond, James Bond.” He quips. With one more kiss to my head, he’s gone. 

End of flashback

When I got home two days later, not only did he keep his word, but he also restocked the fridge and freezer, and had the apartment cleaned from top to bottom. And, of course, left a crate of Beam.

“Oh for fuck sake!” I snap as my phone rings. I send Michael to voicemail. When I listen to it, I grab my things and decide to go see a friend. “It’s bad enough dealing with you shrill and sober. Drunk, shrill and demanding will have me disowning you!”

AN HOUR LATER

As the cab pulls up outside my friend’s, I spot the ambulance driving away. Panicking, I throw money at the cabbie and run up the path! “George! George!” I scream into the house. “Where are you? What’s happened?!”

“Vic! Oh Vic! Lounge, come quickly!” I run inside and almost faint, for sitting there, looking somewhat battered is Brian!

“What the fuck?!” I gasp.

“He hit me with his car.” Brian drawls. “So now you have me captive, wanna explain?”