Chapter 1

"Brad, I am not going to go to some shitty art loft to interview some insane artist. I mean, what the fuck? Just because they sold a painting for half a million dollars and now have another one they expect will sell for twice that, I have to go to him? I thought I was the host of a talk show, not a roving reporter."

"Brian, this guy is supposed to be the next Picasso. Think about what he could do for your career. He has never given an interview. You could be his go-to everytime he has something new on the horizon. The networks would pick that up. You've always said you want to get out of Pittsburgh."

"Fuck! I don't want to do this. You are going to owe me big. If I do this for you, I don't have to do the Thanksgiving parade. I want it in writing before I leave today."

"You got it." The producer handed Brian a folder. "Here's your homework. By tomorrow afternoon make sure you know this man's life inside and out. He's only a couple years younger than you. You never ran into each other?"

"Why would I have run into him?"

"Well..."

"We're both gay? I didn't think anyone knew that for sure. I have heard he is a recluse. He doesn't associate with anyone, male or female."

"Brian I will have my assistant type up the Thanksgiving agreement. You go get to know your subject."

"This better be worth it and if this interview goes to syndication..."

"We will renegotiate the option for you to leave, no penalties."

"Deal. I will stop by your office tomorrow for details and the address of his studio." Brian turned and strode out of the office.

As Brian drove home in his vintage Corvette he grumbled under his breath. "Why did I agree to this?" Answering himself he said, "Because you want to meet this hermit."  He hadn't admitted it to the producer because he was happy to have some collateral to get out of the parade, but he was curious about this guy. Justin Taylor was a bit of an enigma. 

Brian pulled into the parking lot by his apartment. As he took the elevator up to his loft he thought about high school. He had lied to Brad. He had known who Justin was while he was in high school. He was a brave little asshole two years behind him. He tried to get equal rights for everyone in the school. He had known Brian Kinney was gay and when he refused to join, Taylor chose to hate everything about him. He could never prove it but several things that happened to his locker and belongings the rest of that year, led back to the smart ass blond. 

"How could anyone doubt he was gay? He had a history here in the city. Hell, he had gotten beaten because of it. Obviously, Brad needs to do his homework." Brian strode off the elevator and into his apartment.

"Remind me again why I am doing this interview? I'm the artist that doesn't like attention. I don't like anyone in my studio. Other than you and my agent, no one steps in here. Fuck, I even cleaned it myself until last month. Now the cleaning service comes once a month to clean the floors. You remember what a pig he was when we were in school."

"You were just mad he didn't support your club."

"Fuck you, Daphne." He walked over and straightened a picture on the wall. "I doubt he will even remember who I am."

"Why did you say you would do it with him, and in your studio? Why not just go to the studio?"

"The next painting going to the auction is part of a fundraiser for the LGBT teen center. My agent insisted this was the best way to get a better price."

Daphne walked over and hugged him, "And you will do anything to raise money for the center."

"I'm not sure I would have made it through college without them. But, shit, I don't want all of this out for him to show to everyone. I am going to make him stay out in the front part and display just what I want him to see."

"He is going to want a tour. I am sure of it."

"Just because he wants..." Justin looked at his best friend and sighed. "Help me get a few of these pieces up in the loft? I will make sure he knows that is my living quarters. He doesn't have to know I don't live there anymore."

Two hours later, Daph and Justin were walking out of the studio. There was a loud crash about a block away. "Damn, that reno down the block is the noisiest build I have ever heard." They got into the Uber they had called. They rode most of the way in silence. Justin couldn't stop thinking that the next time he went to his studio he would be opening his private space up to the world. He hated this.

"Do you want to have some dinner?" Daphne asked as they neared Justin's apartment.

"Can I take a raincheck on that? I plan to send the questions I will answer to Kinney tonight."

"Was that part of the deal?"

"Well, not really but I plan to have boundaries." The taxi pulled up to his new apartment and handed the driver more than enough money to take Daphne home. "I'll talk to you tomorrow night?"

"You better tell me what happens."

Justin waved at his best friend as the Uber pulled away. He punched in the code and entered the building. He took the elevator to his apartment on the 10th floor. He was renting with the option to buy. If this next deal went through as he suspected, he would buy this place. He poured a drink and looked out over the river. Two months ago he was living in the art studio loft and now he had one of the best views in the city. He still couldn't believe how fast everything moved. His mind also went to the reminder his agent gave him. ‘It can go as fast as it came.' Justin had bought a mid range car, but most of the income from the painting went into the bank. 

After he emptied the glass he poured a second and then sat down by the counter bar, grabbed one of his sketchbooks and started a list of guidelines. He listed:

He would talk about his time in art school. 

He would not answer personal questions other than where he grew up.

He would talk about his favorite mediums 

He would not talk money.

He would review his upcoming tour.

Justin took a snapshot of his list and texted it over to the producer he had been in contact with for the interview. He added via text, "These are the guidelines. Email a list of questions in the morning." He then entered the kitchen, and pulling out a cutting board and a knife he started his second favorite way to be creative.

"You're kidding, right? No personal questions? I can't talk about his new found wealth? What the hell can I ask?"

Brad shrugged, "Brian, I knew he was going to be hard to crack and you are the best interviewer I know. You don't care if they hate you and you tend to find ways to get the answers without getting the questions."

"That isn't going to work with him."

"Come on. Brian Kinney can charm anyone he wants to."

"What if I don't want to?"

"What if I don't want to charm him? He might be pretty to look at, but nothing else I've seen or heard makes me want to spend time with him."

"Why do I feel like there is a story here? You don't know him, do you?"

"We were in the same high school for a year or two. Other than passing in the halls 10 years ago, I've never interacted with him."

"That should give you something to interact about."

"I doubt it. Now, can we come up with the list of questions we will show him and then the list of questions I actually plan to get answers to?"

Justin received the questions overnight. As he drank coffee and read over them, he wished he would have let Daphne join them. He hated the fact he was letting Kinney get to him. With the coffee in his hand, he thought about the first time he saw Brian Kinney. He was a legend in the school. Every girl and gay male fantasized about him, and he had a feeling some of the straight guys would have switched teams for one night with him. Brian had been a rebel although he hung out with that geek. What was his name? Matty? No, Mikey. He always called him Mikey. 

If it hadn't been for his art, Justin wasn't sure where he would have been. Although he was smart, he really didn't fit with the brainiacs. He had the art kids and helped with the theater productions, so also had that group of kids, but not once had Brian Kinney glanced his way. Not once had he supported any of the groups they had tried to start for diversity groups. Of course, they had only shared the halls for a short time.  

Justin concentrated on the list and was sure these were not the questions he would be asked. Brian was known for probing without you realizing. That wasn't going to happen today. He would not let him.

Brian had woken up late.  He hadn't set his alarm and now he had to rush. He showered and looked at the suit he had set out the night before. He knew Brad wanted him to wear it, but Brian decided against it. Artists were laid back. He looked at his jeans but knew he would get dinged if he wore them. He pulled out some deep brown trousers with a cream pinstripe. They clung to his hips and legs. Once he pulled them on he looked at the shirts in his closet.  He chose a deep burgundy silk T-shirt and topped it with a brown leather jacket. Brad would be pissed, but not mad enough to change his mind about the Thanksgiving parade.

Justin left his apartment at noon and decided to walk the mile to his studio.  He knew there was nothing special about his car but the construction going on around the studio made him nervous. He just had a feeling something wasn't right over there, plus, the walk might calm him. He was still a couple blocks away when he heard a car honk and a vintage corvette pull into a spot that just opened up. He just continued on until he heard his name.

"Justin Taylor, wait up." He turned and saw Brian extract himself from the car. "I don't know if I could get closer but I saw a spot." He strode over and offered his hand, "Brian Kinney, nice to meet you."

Justin wanted to kick himself but he couldn't take his eyes off Kinney. "I didn't expect you yet. I didn't expect you for another half hour at least."

Brian ignored his comment.  "My cameraman is meeting us there. He's coming from another shoot but then he is ours the rest of the day."

"How long will this take?  I still don't think this is a good idea. We are sticking to the six questions you sent me, right?"

"Sure, so what does this space look like? They said there was a sitting area."

"There are a couple chairs and a..."

"What's the light like?"

By that point, Justin had had enough. Although Brian continued to ask questions, Justin ignored him. Once they were outside of the building he grabbed Justin's arm, "Why'd you quit talking to me?"

"I was tired of wasting my breath. You weren't listening to anything I said anyway." Justin unlocked the building and Brian followed him in. "We need to go up the steps. Text your camera man to come up. I'll leave the door down here unlocked."

Once they arrived upstairs, Justin opened the door to his studio space and locked the door behind them. 

The noise from the renovation down the street was louder than normal. "What the hell is that?"

"They are working on a building a couple blocks away." Justin didn't go into any more detail.

"Well, how are we supposed to do an interview with that noise?"

Justin pointed to the next room. "Soundproof in there." At one time his studio had been used for a recording studio and he had put his sofa and chairs in that area when he lived here.

"Justin, before my cameraman, Chuck, comes, we need to talk.  Well, you need to talk. This could be a fun, interesting interview or it could be boring and lifeless. You are going to need to speak. So far I have had to work for everything you have said."

"It is your job, not mine."

"So are you going to remain hostile throughout?"

"Hostile? I'm not hostile." Justin continued to move around the space, turning lights on and straightening up his paints uncomfortably. "Brian, you don't even realize we have met before, do you?"

"You mean high school? Sure, but I don't remember saying anything to you."

"Now that is true. I was too lowly for the mighty Brian Kinney to say ‘hi' to." Justin tried to make it sound like a joke but they both recognized the undertone."

"What were you, a freshman when I was a senior?"

As Justin opened his mouth to say something and there was a pounding on the door. Brian went to the door and a man bearing silver cases walked in. "Kinney, how are we going to do an interview with all this noise?"

"The room over there is soundproof."

"Great!" Chuck said and, after setting down the cases he walked over to Justin, "Mr. Taylor,  excuse his manners. I'm Chuck. May I go set up the still cameras and then we can do a walk through and get some shots?"

Brian stood to the side, hands on his hips. "Fuck you," he said lightheartedly as Chuck walked past him. "Taylor can show me around while you set up. Even if we have to do a voice over because of the noise." Brian swooped his arm to the other door in the room.  

"How long have you had this space?" Brian asked.

"Just about three years. I lived here up until two months ago."

"Two sentences. We are making progress." Justin's face went hard and Brian continued. "Sorry.  This isn't my normal kind of interview and, well, I do remember you. We weren't in the same halls very often because of the age difference but I remember wondering if sex would be good between us."

"Oh, and I always pictured you as a top. I sure as hell wouldn't have let your wimpy little dick near my..."

"Wimpy little..." Brian snarled but then had to smile. "Can we start over? Chuck should be in here in a minute." He started looking around. "I just want to complete this interview and go home. You are really good. If this goes well, maybe you'll let me do another when you have another big sale."

Justin took a deep breath, "Ya, sure. My agent says I have no choice but to do this so I might as well make the best of it."

As Chuck took some video, Brian, with a recorder in his hand, asked questions, "This information I will use if we need a little filler."

"Mr. Taylor," Chuck started but Justin interrupted.

"Justin, please." Just then there was a loud bang from outside and the building actually trembled. "I don't know what is going on but this is the loudest construction I have ever heard.  I'm glad I don't live here anymore."

"This is amazing work. I think I have plenty for the interview but I wish we had hours so I could go through all of it."

"Chuck, you seem to enjoy art."

"I do. I went to art school but I wasn't good enough to make it as an artist like you, but I use this for my art now."

"Photography takes just as much skill. You have to know the right angles and understand depth." Justin jumped as another loud sound surprised him. "If you are done in here we can go into the sitting room and I promise once the door is shut, we won't hear any of this."

The room was completely silent when they were inside the old recording room. Once the men were settled into chairs, Brian explained how he would run the interview. "I will be asking you the questions one at a time. We may keep it in the order I ask but it is more likely that I will shuffle them a little bit. Sometimes, depending on your answers, it might make more sense to shuffle them around."

"That's fine as long as you don't make the answers change their meaning when you switch it up." 

"I can't do anything that you didn't agree to when you signed the agreement." Brian looked at Chuck, "I think we are ready."

Brian went into reporter mode. He smiled at the camera and said, "Today I have the privilege of being in the studio of Justin Taylor. I am sure you have all seen his work in the paper and on TV due to his recent sale of one of his masterpieces."

Justin interrupted, "I don't think I would call it a masterpiece. Van Gogh painted masterpieces.  I paint things that interest me, and thankfully, others seem to like them too."

"So, Justin, I happen to know where you went to school because we attended the same high school here in the city. I believe that is where your real interest in art began."

"Well, I don't know. I think that my love for art started long before high school. I loved going to the museums here in the city and thankfully I had the chance to do that frequently."

"Did your parents take you?" Brian added as an addition to the question.

"I will not answer that question. I told you, nothing about family."

"Justin, how hard will it be for people to look up your parents? Don't you want to tell them whatever there is to tell."

"There is nothing to tell. Drop it Kinney!"

"Didn't your father leave the family once you came out and ..." Before he could go any further,  they all felt the building below them tremble. "What the hell?"

Justin looked at Brian, "The universe is warning you and now I am. Change the subject or you are out of here. Chuck, stay and get the shots, and I will answer the questions without you. "

"Come on, that's a mistake."

Chuck pulled his phone out of his pocket, "Brian, it's the station. It sounds like whatever happened is big." He started pulling out a couple camera attachments from a case. "They want me to be the first photographer there. If it is really big, I'll text and we will have to reschedule. Brad said if I can't come back, you should pack up the equipment and take it with you."

Before Brian could say a word, Chuck was gone. Justin left the room to see if they could see anything out the window. They could hear Chuck's footsteps and then they looked at each other when they heard a much louder bang than they expected.

"Oh, shit!" Justin said.

"What was that?"

"If I'm not mistaken, that was the old, overhead security gate. It has been stuck for the three years I have been here." Justin headed toward the windows in his workroom.  Holy shit!  It looks like a bomb hit. I can't decide if there is a fire or just dust." 

Brian walked up behind him and rested his hand on Justin's shoulders as he looked out.  "Woah. I should get out there... although it is really gross out there."

"It doesn't matter. If it was that gate that we heard, we aren't going anywhere until the landlord lets us out." Justin started texting just as the electricity flickered and then went out.

"What next?"

"We may not be able to leave but at least we seem to be relatively comfortable and in a secure building." He looked back out at the city and softly said, "This looks really bad."

"What are we supposed to do in here? I could get an audio interview and..."

"You can pack up your equipment and leave me alone until my landlord gets us out of here.  This interview is over."

The next half hour Brian moved all the equipment out of the windowless room before the weak sunlight was totally gone. In the meantime, Justin had located a lantern he had, as well as extra batteries. He was glad when he moved to his apartment he only took a few of his personal items with him. He left all the household things where they were.

After he located the lantern, he realized he hadn't heard from the landlord.  He went back and looked at the chaos below.  He couldn't see the actual site of the commotion but he could see the fire trucks and police vehicles everywhere.  He picked up his phone and noticed he had missed a message from the landlord. "Shit," he said under his breath.

"When are they getting us out of here?" Justin hadn't noticed Brian walk up.

"Landlord says they won't let him near the building. We are in a zone that has been blocked off due to the explosion." Justin said and started texting back.

"NO! We are in the danger area and they won't get us out?" Brian pulled out his own phone and started texting. "Brad will get someone over here."

Justin read the text that just came in, "They say we are safe where we are so they will not send anyone in."

"FUCK!" Brian shouted.

"Do you have to yell everything? You're not impressing anyone here with your bluster."

Before Brian could respond, a flash outside got both of their attention. In awe they watched the building that had been blocking their view crumble into a heap.  There was now one block between them and the catastrophe. 

Brian softly said, "Shit, they said we were safe, right?"

"Ya, they did." Justin pulled out his phone but it now said ‘no service'. "Do you have service?" Brian shook his head. "I think the local tower was on the building that crumbled."

"What should we do?" 

"I'm going to pack up some of my paintings. Some of these have been commissioned and if something happens to the building, maybe they will survive in packing."

"How can you be so calm?" Brian started out louder but softened it as he spoke.

"I'm not, but it won't help to yell." 

Justin started to walk away but Brian stopped him. "Need some help?"

"Up to you." 

"What can I do?" Justin pointed to several canvases and he wrapped them before Justin slipped them into a shipping crate. Soon there were six crates full and positioned under the staircase that led up to the loft. "Thanks. I know this may sound backwards but it is getting dark and if we go upstairs the lantern will be more effective. It is a much smaller area."

"I don't think being eight feet higher will make a difference." The two went up the short set of stairs.

"What is this spot? It looks like a flop house?"

"It was my home until two months ago. I couldn't afford a fancy loft like you live in."

"But now you live in a great location."

"Artists are always one project away from having everything or moving back in here." Justin set the lantern down on a small table and then sat on the edge of the bed. Out of habit, he looked at his phone. "Hey, I've got a bar up here." He pushed some buttons and Brian could tell he was reading a news brief. "It says they don't expect anymore destruction but this part of the city is on lockdown."

"What a great choice of words!" Brian said sarcastically. "We are literally locked in." 

Justin put his phone away and picked up a magazine that was on the crate he had used for a night stand. Brian sat down but then stood up and started pacing. He would look out the window and then check his phone and then he would circle the room again. "Are you going to do this all night?"

"Is there some reason you hate my guts?"

"Well, it isn't like you are a ray of warm sunlight on a cloudy day. We had barely started the interview when you broke the agreement." His tone was low and flat.

"I'm a reporter. You didn't expect me to let you go without trying."

"So, is it fun to prod people until you bring out the dirty little secrets they may have? Do you enjoy making people feel pain? Well, first of all, I'm not going to tell you shit about my family. It wouldn't hurt me but I refuse to let you stir up history for my mother and sister."

Brian took a deep breath and finally sat down in an old, overstuffed chair that had lost its legs. "Someone would miss you if something happened to you."

"Don't try to tell me the great Brian Kinney is all alone. I have seen you in the local celebrity gossip columns. You go out with more men in a month than I do in a year."

"I have a lot of sex, but none of them are waiting for me. I bet someone is waiting for you."

"What about Mikey? He was never far from you in school."

"He's still around but we have basically gone our own way. He wants married life and is getting close to it." He looked over at Justin who was now reclined on the bed. "Were you stalking me? We weren't in the same section of the building very often."

"Actually, I took a couple advanced math classes the second semester of my freshman year. I saw you every day. I always wondered how you did it."

"Did what?"

"How did you not give a shit about anything?"

"You've got to care about something to give a shit. Mikey and his mom were the closest thing I had to a real family. They are quirky but they cared about me.

"How about you?"

"You don't give up, do you?" Justin nearly shouted.

"Fuck, I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation!" Brian said. "Is the water safe to drink here?"

"I think there is water in the fridge and an extra case of water under the sink if there is none in the fridge." He thought for a second, "The refrigerator should still be cold now."

Brian came back a minute later with a bottle for each of them. As he dropped back into the chair, Justin softly said, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I am sure my mom is going crazy and Daph is probably at her house trying to calm her even though she is just as crazy."

"Is that the same chick you were in high school with?"

"Yes. She has a journalism degree, too. She works for an online news service. She investigates business owners that are working below the law."

"Did you say Daphne? I think I have read some of her work. Brad, my producer, has shown me her work." Brian took a long swallow and then said, "Did you say you have a sister?" He saw the look on Justin's face and then said, "Off the record.  I just can't deal with the silence."

"Yes, she is in college."

"And your father?"

"He left when I came out. He checked on me after I got bashed but he basically said I should have expected it. You don't have a family?"

"I don't have a family I associate with. They couldn't deal with me when they didn't know I was gay. Once they found out, well, let's just say it didn't change for the better."

"So not giving a shit was really a ruse." 

Brian stood up and then walked to the window. Changing the subject he said, "Wonder what is actually going on down there?"

"I don't know. What do you see?"

"I see a fire burning but it is small and I can see it is under control."

Justin commented, "That's good. Did you ever want to be a fireman?"

"I wanted a fireman. Does that count?"

"I am sure you have had your share and mine, too."

"You know who was built like a fireman? Our P.E. teacher. He was built like a..."

"I'm going to go check what I have for food in this place." He picked up the lantern. "I'm going to need this."

Brian watched him walk away. Justin Taylor was definitely a perfect package. Bad choice of words, now all he wanted to do was see his package. He now had a goal for the night. He was going to find out what was filling out those trousers before he left this place.

Justin stood in the kitchen and opened the cupboards. P.E. teacher. He hadn't thought of that fucker in years and he could have gone the rest of his life without having the memory of that bastard back in his head. Damn, he really did hate that man. 

As Justin pulled out a box of crackers, he also found a brick of cheese, a jar of peanut butter, and a packet of tuna. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. As he started to shut the doors he noticed several bottles of cheap whiskey on the top shelf. Maybe he could get him drunk and he would shut up. All he wanted was for this conversation to stop and this nightmare to be over.