Disclaimer:I do not own Queer as Folk Any characters and situations and anything else pertaining to real life is referred here for non-profit purposes only No copyright infringement is intended. Although everyone here is now so Out of character, I hardly think this matters. Sorry folks. These things happen.
Chapter 5
The First Week
Part 4 The Contest
Friday Morning...
Justin was at the riverbank, feeding Gus and the others as usual.
Gus had doubled in size. His neck was longer. He webbed feet were black and bigger. He was even more awkward and gangly than before and he was almost as big as the mother duck now. Nobody knew what he was but he was clearly not a duck.
"Are you all ready for tonight?" asked Gus.
Justin nodded.
"Boy, you're really going to knock their socks off! Fuck, yeah!"
"Gus! Watch your language!" admonished the mother duck, "Knock your socks off! Really!! I really don't know where you pick these things up."
Justin laboriously worked over his pad. When he finished after 15 minutes, it said in childishly scrawled letters: IF THEY LET ME.
"Course they'll let you!" Gus said confidently, "Just wait and see."
"You're still having trouble with your letters," the heron observed, "Are you sure you don't want me to help you?"
Justin shook his head in distress. The heron was the animal equivalent to the tutor. But Justin would never let him know that. So he just refused him.
"You know, you draw waaaay better than you write," Gus said, "That and your signing. You should find a way to draw your words. Like for I...you could draw an eye. Or point to your eye."
"He does that anyway, you dolt!" honked one of his duckling brothers.
Justin tapped his neck twice with two fingers. That was his sign for Brian. Quickly he signed out: ‘Brian wants me to practice.'
"Is all your art ready?" asked the mother duck, trying to change the subject. Justin nodded.
"But I mean you could sign everything out," Gus continued artlessly, "The drawings don't have to be all that complicated. Anybody could do it."
"That's enough, Gus," said the mother duck.
"Yeah...It would work," said Gus, almost to himself, "Kinda like charades...only with pictures. Hey, you could call it PARADES!"
"Be quiet, Gus!!" they all yelled and pecked him.
"All right! All right! I'm going! I was done anyways." Gus flapped, took off, grazed a tree branch, and flew off.
Justin got ready to go as well.
"The nightingales are ready as well," the larks reported. "They say they have prepared something very special.
Justin gestured, "What?"
"They wouldn't say," the larks said. Then, they too, flew off.
That evening...
A large ballroom had been converted into a theatre for the contest. At one end, a makeshift stage had been set up and all through the rest of the room chairs were set up facing it.
Justin had spent the afternoon in this ballroom. He had been authorized to use one long wall to set up the paintings he wanted to sell. He and two servants who had been sworn to secrecy hung each painting exactly right and then covered them with a cloth.
Justin's stomach was knotted with nerves. It wasn't so much the paintings themselves. He had done the best with them and they were finished and done with anyway. They were all horrible, of course. But it was Brian's reaction that had him wondering. Justin had given a lot of thought to what he should paint. He had a PLAN.
Michael, of course, had spitefully and strenuously objected to him having a showing at all. This was HIS project and show, why should he let Justin steal his thunder? However, once it was pointed out that should Justin's art sell, he would be that much closer to moving out, he reluctantly agreed.
Justin was also nervous about whether he should even go through with the whole pan-pipes idea. Would they even let him? He so much wanted to try. He wanted to knock Brian's socks off. He wanted him to be proud of him. He wanted Brian to respect and love him and see him more than a mute sea sprite that he needed to take care of.
And oh! To hope against hope of spending a whole long day with him again. To prepare his dinner and sit in the place of honor next to him. To be able to converse with him and have a perfect view of him and everyone else, instead of being fifteen people down or more where he could barely see him. That would be prize enough for Justin. He would gladly give up the 500 gold just for that. Such a thing, in Justin's eyes...would be priceless.
All too soon, the sun was setting, the butler was turning up the chandeliers, and people were arriving.
Also along the side, near (but not too near) Justin's wall, a table of hor d'oeuvres and wines had been set up. As people arrived, they claimed their seats and then wandered over to serve themselves.
Justin had quickly changed into a nice but casual blue suit with a red silk tie. He stood by the first painting, partly to guard, partly as a case of nerves. As each person came over, he would shake their hand in greeting and smile. Then the guests would go back to mingling and Justin would watch them do what he would never do again...chat.
Soon there was a longish cocktail party going on along the table with everybody jockeying for position to see the paintings the best.
Debbie and her date, Carl arrived. The party got loud. She squealed and hugged Justin so hard, he swore he heard a rib crack. He kissed her cheek and she licked her palm and tried to fix his hair and only succeeded in mussing it. Carl finally pulled her away and once her back was turned, he discreetly combed it back into place again.
The Remington twins arrived. The party got louder. They came over and shook his hand then gave him a spontaneous group hug that nearly crushed Justin flat. But somehow he recovered and the twins went to have a drink.
More people were to come but at that moment Brian and Michael entered. And for Justin, that meant the party was complete.
Both were dressed in partial regalia. Brian wore a nice black suit with a white shirt and a maroon tie. His hair was combed back into a nice part to the right. He carried a jeweled scepter and wore a long golden chain with a large emerald on it. He wore an impressive spiked golden crown encrusted with diamonds, rubies and emeralds.
Michael was dressed in some sort of old world suit with gold colored buckled shoes, silver socks, golden breeches and a gold coat and a silver shirt with a silver beret type hat. He thought he looked rich, elegant. He looked stupid.
Brian and Michael approached Justin and bowed formally. He bowed back and imagined he was bowing to Brian alone.
Brian turned to the crowd and said: "Ladies and Gentlemen, last week many of you were here to witness this young man's rise as a sketch artist..."
Here Debbie threw Michael a look so dirty it made you want to do laundry. Michael studiously ignored her.
"...and tonight, you are here to see which he can do as a painter. Over the last week he has been given the opportunity to expand his gift and tonight you are invited to view the fruits of his labors. Also, I am happy to say, we managed to recently discover the young man's name! And now, I present to you, Justin!"
Everyone clapped and cheered. Justin bowed. With a flourish, he yanked the cover off of the first painting.
Everyone gasped.
It was a watercolor of the sun setting over the ocean. The sunset had rich beautiful colors of red, yellow, orange and pink. The sun was so low it was touching the horizon. And over the sun, curved in a semicircle over top jumped a merman with a blue-green tail. His face was indistinct but you could tell by its features that it was a man.
Everyone ooohed and ahhhed.
"Oh, look, it's a merman!" said a genius.
Justin pulled the cover off of the next painting. Again, everyone gasped.
This one was a long, thin rectangular canvas. It was spit into halves, two squares, and each one its own panel. The top panel was oil, the bottom a watercolor. The top one showed the deck of Babylon, indistinct, dancing men in blue and white uniforms, and in the center was Brian in stark detail. He was in the dancing clothes Justin had seen him in and he was looking straight into you, the viewer's eyes. The bottom panel was watercolor, more indistinct, and faced the other way, toward the railing. It was Brian's point of view. Over the railing peeped a blond head, his face indistinct, except for his blue eyes. His blond hair was ethereal, glowing like a halo.
Justin pulled his third cover.
A small but vivid oil painting of a ship on a stormy sea on fire. A white lightning bolt was striking the mast. Justin looked straight into Brian's eyes. Brian looked thunderstruck.
Justin pulled the fourth cover.
It was another watercolor. It was a blue and green underwater seascape filled with planks and barrels and other debris. In the midst of the debris, a man was sinking, limp and helpless. He was wearing the same brownish color shirt-vest that Brian had been on that fateful night. Swimming toward him, with arms ready to grab him was a blue-green merman with blond hair.
Justin pulled the fifth cover.
A watercolor. A beach. A golden and pink dawn was rising over a calm blue ocean. The sun was halved on the horizon. On the beach, the man lay on his back and the merman lay over and beside him. The merman's head was glowing like a candle. Both faces were indistinct.
Justin pulled his sixth and last cover. It was his largest and most magnificent.
Everyone gasped appreciatively and clapped. Justin bowed again. Everyone began to disperse.
The sixth painting was a large oil. A leatherman in goggles and gauntlets rode a black and silver motorcycle through a blue sky. The motorcycle had black-feathered wings.
Justin looked into Brian's thunderstruck eyes and was surprised when they hardened into anger.
Justin took a few steps toward him and at the same time Brian strode toward him. Somehow they met in a middle ground. Justin's blue eyes shone with concern. Brian's eyes shone with anger.
"Just what the - SHIT - do you think you're playing at, Justin?"
Justin shrugged his shoulders in the askance.
"That stuff I told you last week at the diner. I thought... I thought we shared something...something special, something private! You- you USED ME! You used my grief and plastered it all over the wall!"
Justin shook his head. He reached out to take Brian by the hand. Brian yanked it away as if it were burned.
"Don't touch me! How could you do this to me, Justin? How?!"
Justin moved over to the two -paneled painting. He pointed to the top panel. He pointed to himself. He pointed his index and middle finger into a V. He pointed at his eyes. He pointed at Brian. "I saw you!"
He pointed to the bottom panel. He pointed at Brian. He pointed at his eyes. He patted his chest. "You saw me!"
He moved over to the painting of him swimming through the water to rescue Brian from the deep. He pointed to the merman. He patted his chest. He pointed to the sinking man. He pointed at Brian. He looked straight into Brian's troubled eyes and repeated the gesture and nodded gravely.
He moved over to the beach painting. He pointed at the man. Pointed to Brian. He pointed to the merman. He pointed at himself.
Brian watched all this in disbelief.
"What are you saying? That this all happened? What? That you're that merman?!"
Justin took two steps forward. He lifted his chin and looked straight into Brian's eyes. He took a deep breath. The time had come.
He nodded twice.
Brian leaned in close. "I'd check again, Sweetness!" he pointed at Justin's legs. "Where's your tail?"
Justin whipped out a pad and pencil. He had been preparing for this question. He hadn't been staying up nights practicing for nothing.
In slow, childish, large letters he wrote: I paid the price 2 B with U.
"What price? What are you talking about?"
Justin patted his throat. He pointed with his pencil to PAID THE PRICE. He repeated this.
Brian pulled back again. His face was again a mask of anger, hate, and disbelief.
"My God! You're pathological! Look, I don't know where this fish fetish came from and I don't care! But you are obviously a man, not a- a merman!"
The last two words were spat out with the utmost contempt. "There are NO SUCH THINGS as mermen!" His voice remained low but was clipped with controlled fury and hate.
" I think you should leave and go to your- go somewhere else tonight because looking at your face right now makes me want to smash something! Now get out!!!"
Justin desperately reached for him but again Brian pulled away and pushed him away. "I said, GET- OUT!" he growled, " And tomorrow we are going to have a- LONG- talk about respecting people's privacy!"
He turned around and stalked away.
Michael stood there with a smug smirk on his face. He loved every minute of this.
"Smooth move, Sunshine," he mocked, before turning on his heel and also walking away.
Justin had always found his muteness annoying, often disabling, especially when he was not able to make himself understood. But he had never felt truly crippled until right now. He was crippled with grief. His eyes squeezed shut and tears gushed out. His face twisted in heartbreak and pain. He bent over the table and held on as a merciless demon stabbed his stomach with the mediaeval knife and twisted it. Then, with his back straight, he limped heavily out of the ballroom and then even heavier up the stairs to his room, disgraced and heartbroken. The knives bit deeply into his feet. He threw himself down on his bed and sobbed his heart out.
He had failed.
BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJ
So he was not there when about 20 minutes later, when Brian came back to look again at the paintings to feed his festering grief.
He looked first at the motorcycle painting. It was done in such loving detail. It conveyed fantasy, love, and a wild eroticism. How could he do that painting, and then do...this to him?
He moved over to the two-paneled painting. Oil and water. Two things that could exist together and yet apart. He'd even got his crew man's uniforms right. He'd even gotten his clothes right! Wait a minute!
Brian thought back to their conversation in the diner. He checked the other paintings.
A question bloomed.
Brian looked at the painting of the ship on fire. He stared hard at it for a long time.
BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJM
It took another hour and a half before the rest of the guests arrived, ogled Justin's paintings, wondered where the artist was, and found their seats.
Brian told everybody that Justin had gotten a stress headache and had gone to lie down. He felt horrible every time he had to tell the lie and even worse that he was the cause of it. Now that he had calmed down a bit, he was sorry he had gone off on Justin so roughly. So the kid had a secret fish fetish and was a bit delusional. Weren't all artists supposed to be a little eccentric? And despite it all, he WAS a very good artist. His showing had, of course, sold out quickly. Brian had, of course procured the motorcycle painting for himself. There was no way he was going to let anyone else have that hanging on their wall.
On either sides of the stage, curtains had been set up to simulate a backstage/wings area. In the front row, a long table had been set up. At this table sat Prince Brian, his new friend, the ambassador of Koffikstan, and a rather severe looking dignitary with a tight bun and pince-nez glasses. They were the judges. Michael was not a judge because he wanted to perform, and in fact, was first on the docket. However, a chair next to Brian was saved for him for when he was done.
Everyone was allowed a glass of wine and a small plate of snacks. The severe dignitary had nothing. The ambassador of Koffikstan had a plate and a flute of champagne. Brian just had a flute of champagne and an empty wineglass waiting for Michael for when he was done. A bottle of wine was discreetly under the table and Brian had a feeling he was going to need it before the night was through. Debbie and Carl both had a plate and a glass. The Remingtons took up four chairs for themselves and each had a plate piled high that they were going to "nibble" It was gone before the first act.
Finally, it was time. The butlers turned down the chandeliers and other people turned up some lights trained on the stage. The MC, a drag queen named Kandy Kane got up and entertained everybody with a little stand up comedy. She had bright red lipstick, a white frizzy wig and a red and white striped dress on. She was quite a character and even made Brian laugh a little.
As the lights were low and everyone was focused on Kandy, a shadowy figure entered the ballroom and snuck along the side of the room until he reached the curtain. The person ducked behind it. Nobody noticed him.
Kandy introduced Michael. He came up onstage in his gold and silver suit and looked more foppish than ever. He started his song.
He was horribly off key. He went on and on in this nasal voice singing about doomed love. He thought he was the greatest thing ever. It was embarrassing. He was terrible. The shadowy figure in the wings winced with every sour note, which was all of them.
Brian didn't know where to look. He had no idea what he was going to.
Finally, mercifully, it was over. Kandy took the stage once more.
"OK, well, that one just kept going, didn't it? Just kidding, Michael, good job, there. And now, give a big hand for..."
And the show went on.
Some were good. Some were bad. The audience heard and saw them all. The judges heard and saw all. But what nobody heard, what nobody saw was a small, thin figure hunching his shoulders and hanging back shyly in the wings, letting contestant after contestant go before him.
Well, almost nobody. During one lady's aria, Kandy recognized it would be considerably long. So she used that time to come over to the young man.
"What's the matter, sugar? You nervous? Don't you wanna strut your stuff?"
Justin turned around. He looked at her with inexpressively sad eyes.
"Oh, hey! I know you! You're..."
Justin raised a finger to his lips.
"Sorry, sugar! I gotcha! Shhhhh! Sorry, my loud mouth usually gets me into trouble but when it does it's usually full, if you know what I mean! So what's got you looking so sad?"
Justin lifted a break in the curtain. He pointed at Brian and then at Michael."
"Oh, yes! I heard about Brian's little blow up! Now, don't you worry, sugar! Brian's temper is like cooking with gas. He boils over hot and fast, but cools off just as quick. You guys'll kiss and make up no problem."
Justin's eyes asked, "Really?"
"For sure! Now, there's only three more people left. You wanna go, or what?"
Justin tapped his throat, and shrugged. He pointed to Brian again and shrugged.
"Oh, that's right, you're mute! What were you planning on, sugar?"
Justin looked around theatrically and raised his finger to his lips.
"Ooooohhh! A secret! Is it juicy?"
Justin nodded. He lifted his shirt and showed her.
"Oh, clever! OK, sugar, here's my two cents! Seems like you really like Brian, right?
Justin nodded.
"But he doesn't really like you...well that way. He's just got his head turned by that Michael character."
Justin nodded sadly.
"That's why you pulled that stunt with your art...isn't it? To get his attention. To get him to stop taking you for granted."
He nodded.
"Well then, I think you should do whatever it is you were going to do. Maybe it's time for him to stop taking you for granted. Maybe it's time for them ALL to stop taking you for granted."
Justin hugged her.
"Now, when do you wanna go on!?'
Justin wrote on his pad slowly, LAST.
"You need anything for your number?"
Justin pointed at a stool and started to write again.
"OK, sugar! You keep at that and I'll be right back!
Kandy went back on stage and made a few smartass remarks and introduced the next act. She timed it pretty good because she was watching Justin out of the corner of her eye and was waiting for him to finish writing. Finally, he was done and the second to last person started.
"OK sugar, what d'ya need?"
He showed her. OPEN WINDOW.
"Not a problem, sugar! You take out the stool, and I'll open a window for you. OK?"
Justin nodded and bowed in thanks.
The last person went on. He was very nasally and bad and thankfully his song was over quickly.
"Oh, what shall I introduce you as?"
Justin handed her a piece of paper. It had taken him ten minutes of painstaking effort to write this upstairs before coming down.
"All right, ladies and germs, hang on to your hats! We have a last minute entry! He's sweet! He's sexy! And he's prepared something very special for you tonight, so I don't want to hear any back talk! It's my pleasure to introduce...JUSTIN SUNSHINE!!"
There was a collective gasp and then dead silence.
Slowly, Justin walked onto stage carrying a stool in one hand. His limp was as heavy as his heart. Halfway to center stage, he looked at Brian reproachfully, daring him to forbid him to continue. Then he limped slowly on until he was center stage and set up his stool. He had gone the exact opposite way as Michael had and dressed as simply as possible. He wore white sneakers, light blue jeans, white tee shirt, a blue plaid shirt over that and a jean jacket over all. Meanwhile, Kandy discreetly went over and opened a window.
"Hey, he can't compete here! He can't speak! He can't sing!" Michael stood up and yelled. (Of course)
"And that's just what you planned on when you made up this little game, you vindictive little prick! Now sit down!" Brian yelled.
"But - but..." Michael sputtered.
Justin pulled out his pan-pipes and held them up.
There was clapping, cheering, whistling and even a "Bravo!" or two.
"No way! That's against the rules! This is a singing contest! No exceptions!" yelled Guess Who.
"Actually, your advertisement DID say: Let your pipes pay your way!" shouted F(Red) Remington.
"And since he doesn't actually have any of his own, I think this is a good idea!" said his twin.
"Yeah! Let him play!" yelled Debbie.
"It's against the rules!" yelled someone else.
The room erupted into a loud mass argument. One half of the room was shouting for Justin to play and the other half telling him to get off the stage.
Justin sat on his stool. He aimed carefully and took a deep breath. He blew out a long controlled High C. It cut through the noise like a knife and quieted everybody down but Justin didn't let up. The note went on and on, steady as a rock and at last shattered a single crystal on a chandelier. Everyone gasped in fear and wonder and a few people screamed a little as the glass fell.
This made even the severe dignitary sit up and take notice. She poked the ambassador from Koffikstan. The ambassador poked Brian. The three of them put their heads together. Justin sat on his stool and put his hands and pipes in his lap while he calmly awaited their decision. Debbie crossed her fingers. The Remingtons were on the edge of their seats. Half of the audience held their breath.
Finally, the dignitary stood up. "Young man, it is our decision to let you proceed. However...please keep the glass smashing to a minimum."
Justin nodded gently at her in assent. He lifted his pipes.
"What!! Brian, NO FUCKIN' WAY!" yelled, (yes, that's right!) Michael. Justin wearily lowered his pipes. "Get him off my stage! He's ruining my contest!"
"The only one ruining your contest is you, Michael! You heard our decision! Our unanimous decision!" Brian added meaningfully.
Michael looked shocked.
"So if you don't want to be disqualified from your own contest, you will sit down and SHUT UP!!!" Brian yelled.
Michael sat down huffily but obeyed and was quiet.
Justin lifted his pipes to his mouth and began. He thought of Ted and chose a particularly sad, slow aria. He imagined Ted was singing along with him, only anytime when Ted would have gone deep, he piped higher. A few minutes into the song, he heard someone say softly, "LOOK! Everyone look at the window!" Without stopping, Justin turned to look, and so did everyone else.
Lined up along the windowsill were 12 nightingales, each with something about the size of a pea clutched in their beaks.
Justin continued his aria. It was slow and beautiful and full of regret. He thought of each of his brothers again in turn. Teddy, whose arias he was reproducing, but would never actually hear again. Emmett, twisting and turning. Blake, with his beautiful teeth. Cody with his treasured hair. His beautiful, beautiful mother. All of them were lost to him forever, and not only that, here they were not even believed in, relegated to books, to a realm of myth and legend.
As Justin played, a nightingale flew off the windowsill and onto the judge's table. It hopped up to Brian and dropped what it had been carrying in its mouth into his champagne flute. It was roughly the size of a pea, but of its own unique shape. It was the birthstone of the first month, a blood red garnet.
The little nightingale spread its wings and lowered itself in a kind of birdlike obeisance. Then it turned and flew off and landed on Justin's shoulder. Justin continued to play.
The second nightingale flew to the table and dropped the second month's birthstone into the glass, an oval cut, rich-purple amethyst. It bowed and flew and joined the first on Justin's shoulder.
The third nightingale flew over and dropped the third month's birthstone into Brian's glass, a sky-blue aquamarine. It bowed and flew to Justin's shoulder.
The fourth nightingale flew over and dropped the fourth month's birthstone into the glass, a brilliant diamond. It bowed and flew to Justin's other shoulder.
The fifth nightingale flew over and dropped the fifth month's birthstone into the glass, a leaf-green emerald. It bowed and flew to Justin's shoulder.
The sixth nightingale flew over and dropped the sixth month's birthstone into the glass, a lustrous, pea-sized pearl. It bowed and flew to Justin's shoulder. Justin continued to play. He was remembering the little children he used to play with and would never see again. His cheeks were wet with tears. Everyone was captivated by this miracle and by the beauty of his song. Many people also had tears in their eyes or were full on crying.
The seventh nightingale flew over and deposited its birthstone. It was a bright red ruby. It bowed and flew to Justin's left leg.
The eighth nightingale flew over and deposited its birthstone in the glass. The eighth month's birthstone was a round cut, olive-green peridot. It bowed and flew to Justin's right leg.
The ninth nightingale flew over and deposited its stone, a lustrous, bright blue sapphire. The glass was now full. It bowed and flew to Justin's left leg.
The tenth nightingale flew over. It waited. Brian hesitantly put out his hand. The little bird put the tenth birthstone, an opal, white, with streaks of pink running through it into his palm. It bowed and flew to Justin's right leg.
The eleventh nightingale flew over and put the eleventh month's birthstone into Brian's palm. It was a faceted, honey yellow topaz. It bowed and flew to Justin left leg.
The twelfth and last nightingale flew over. It put its stone into Brian's palm, a green-blue turquoise. It spread its wings, bowed and flew to Justin's right leg just as Justin finished his aria.
"You are not done yet, my Prince! Now, play something happy and marvel at what we shall do for you," said the nightingale nearest his right ear.
The audience clapped in appreciation but then gasped as the saw Justin breath in, in, in. He wasn't done.
Justin began a wild song, as fast and a free as the birds on his shoulder and as he did, all twelve of the birds took off and began an astonishing aerial acrobatics display. They formed a horizontal circle with six birds and a line of six birds went up and through it. Then they did the same thing with a vertical circle. They formed two circles interlocking. A double helix going all the way up to the ceiling. They flew in two circles diagonally in opposite directions around Justin's body, so close he could feel the wind of their wings. But he was unafraid because he knew they would not hurt him. He played on and on, letting his heart soar with the wild, fast tempo, with the little birds' antics. The birds formed many other designs, too many to describe here.
Justin speeded up. The birds sensed the ending of the song. They flew out into the audience.
Justin played faster and faster, led to a big finish, and then another long, wild note. Again he aimed carefully. The birds wheeled about, six to the left, six to the right and headed back to the stage.
Justin continued his long, high note. Michael's wine glass shattered. It was half full. It splashed wine all over his face.
The birds flew back to the judge's table. With one accord, they all muted on Michael and flew out the window.
Justin held the note about 2 more beats and finished. He was done.
The audience clapped and screamed and stood. It was a standing ovation. Well, all except muted on Michael. His gold and silver suit was ruined. He looked around for some support but Brian was too busy standing up and clapping, tears running down his face.
Justin stood and bowed and started to drag his stool off. Kandy came and got it from him. So, he just limped heavily offstage.
"Did I tell you he had something special, or did I tell you!" she screamed.
Everyone screamed right back.
"OK folks! We're just going to let the judge's decide and we'll be right with you!"
The judges put their heads together for a long time. Finally, they handed four pieces of paper up to Kandy.
"OK, folks, the judge's wanted to tell you guy's first off, that they needed to put their heads together for a while mostly to decide the second and third prize winners. Third prize goes to..."
The third prize went to a worthy female opera singer. Second prize went to a male who had sung an exceptional ballad.
"And first prize, winning 500 gold and Prince for a day...is JUSTIN SUNSHINE!!!
There was thunderous applause and another standing ovation.
Justin limped back onstage. Brian was waiting for him, a big smile on his face. Justin made his way over to a centre spot and bowed for the crowd to get them to sit down. Even the severe dignitary was clapping discreetly and treating herself to a small smile.
Suddenly, Michael jumped up. His face was a mask of hate. "YOU!" he screamed, "You FREAK! You ruined everything! You! You did this to me....somehow! I'll get you for this!"
And he was forced to run out of there, humiliated and covered in bird poop. Everybody laughed at him as he ran down the long, long aisle he had set up himself.
"OK! Now that that little unpleasantness is behind us, I'd like to present Justin with his prize!" Brian presented him with 5 bags of 100 gold in them each. Justin bowed and symbolically accepted them.
"I guess these are also yours," Brian said, holding up the flute of gems.
Justin shook his head. He touched the glass and then patted Brian on the chest. "They are yours."
Brian grabbed Justin's hand and raised their arms over their heads and bowed to the crowd with Justin again. "Justin will also spend the day with me tomorrow and see everybody invited to the dinner tomorrow! For now, I bid you all good night!"
The house lights came up. The audience got up, stretched, and milled around. More than a few people went over to sneak another peak at Justin's art before they left.
As soon as everybody started to leave and their focus was off of the stage, Justin turned to the side and again looked into Brian's eyes in a reproachful manner. He regretfully but decidedly, pulled his hand out of Brian's in a mirroring of what Brian had done earlier.
"Well, why don't you come to my office at 11 AM and we'll hammer out all the details?" Brian asked.
Justin looked at him with sad eyes and slowly shook his head. He turned to go and limped to the edge of the stage.
"Sunshine!!"
Justin turned.
"I will see you at 11 o'clock! It seems we have more than a few other issues to discuss as well!" A hint of a command. But underlying that, Brian could not take out the hint of need that entered his voice.
With one arm bent stiffly behind him and the other bent stiffly in front, Justin bowed formally, stiffly at a right angle at the waist. "At your command!" it said.
Then he limped heavily away and out of the ballroom, not looking back. He shook the hands that were offered him but proceeded steadily out. Finally, he got out of there and into the Great Hall. He looked at the stairs and knew there was no way he was going to be able to get up them tonight. Instead, he limped to his studio. He went in and locked himself in. He walked toward his cot, shedding clothes as he went. He took off his shoes and lay down. Despite his victory with the contest, right now, it seemed very hollow. His heart was still filled with grief. He no longer wanted to spend the day with Brian. He couldn't care less about sitting with him at dinner. Whereas before he would gladly have given up the 500 gold, he would now just rather have it alone. Everything else, in Justin's eyes...was just worthless.
Sighing with melancholy, he fell asleep on his cot.
There were no marks or wounds of any kind on his feet. And this was strange because his shoes were filled with blood.
TBC
A/N: All those gems are the actual month's birthstones.