Chapter 3 - All Apologies
Justin was wearing the complimentary headphones given to him by the airline and bouncing around in his seat, singing along with Moby loudly enough to wake the dead. A good majority of the passengers were getting extremely annoyed at the blond neophyte’s exuberance. Brian had to admit that it was a tad bit embarrassing and the young man was drawing far too much attention for Brian’s comfort.
“Justin, can you please tone it down just a bit?” Brian tapped on the blond’s wrist to get his attention. “People are starting to stare and we wouldn’t want the nice pilot to come back here and ask us to leave.”
“WHAT WAS THAT, JUST BRIAN? THIS MOBY MUSIC IS REALLY HOT! AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT THE ANNOUNCER MAN SAID. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, REALLY. MY HEADPHONES DON’T FEEL HOT. THEY’RE NOT EVEN WARM. I REALLY LIKE THE MUSIC THOUGH. I’VE NEVER HEARD ANYTHING LIKE THIS. MY MOTHER NEVER LET ME LISTEN TO MUSIC LIKE THIS.”
Brian removed the offending object from Justin’s ears as gently and with as much patience as he could. “Where the hell did you grow up, Justin?” Brian lost his temper just a little bit but immediately tried to rein it back once he saw the hurt look in those big blue eyes. “Don’t you know you can’t yell like that in an airplane? The people around us are trying to sleep. That’s why it’s called a ‘Red Eye’. Because if you don’t get any sleep you’ll have red eyes in the morning. Now, you don’t want to have red eyes when you meet my client tomorrow, do you?”
Justin looked totally crestfallen. “I-I-I’ve never been on an airplane, Just Brian. And . . . I didn’t know I was yelling. I couldn't hear because of the music. I’m sorry.” Justin turned to the passenger sitting in the third seat of their row and again apologized. “I’m sorry for yelling.” Then he leaned over the seat in front of them and apologized to all those people as well. And then he did the same for the people behind them . . . Brian stopped the boy before he got up to go personally apologize to the people in more distant rows.
“Okay, Justin. That’s enough. I’m sure everyone will forgive you if you just stop singing out loud and yelling about being sorry.” Brian towed the boy back down to his seat and buckled him in.
Now that Justin was once again seated, he reached under the seat to retrieve his tattered messenger bag. Opening up the clips, he fished around, pulling out various items including some of the clothing Brian had borrowed for him at the last minute from random gogo dancers at Babylon. Finally, he pulled out a well worn pencil and sketch pad with somewhat frayed and bent edges. After setting the bag back under the seat, he made himself comfortable and flipped through the pages until he got to a new page and started scratching out a sketch.
Brian watched in fascination as a portrait of himself began to take form from the lines, scribbles, and finger smudge shadings of those delicate, artistic hands. Justin managed to draw with his right hand and use the left for smudging and blending in the shaded areas all at the same time. It was truly amazing and very entertaining to watch; even the seat neighbor to Justin’s right was riveted by the show.
“So you're an artist?” Brian commented quietly.
“No. I'm not anything, really. I just like to draw,” Justin responded, not looking up from his sketch. “Besides, my mother said I wouldn't amount to anything. I think that means that I'm not supposed to be an artist. Or anything else . . .” Justin's voice died away as he went on with his drawing, leaving Brian with an unpleasant taste in his mouth after that particular maternal comment - one that was far too similar to what he'd heard from his own parents on occasion.
The seat neighbor glanced up and looked at Brian with an appalled and sorrowful look upon hearing this sweet young man repeating his mother’s opinions.
“Well, for the rest of this trip, Justin, we’re going to say you're an artist. Okay?” Brian proposed.
“But . . . I'm not . . . And I'm not supposed to lie, Just Brian.”
“It's not lying, Justin. It's pretending. We're going to pretend you're an artist with my advertising company. It's part of my plan.” Brian gave their nosy seat neighbor a nasty look when he caught the man paying far too much attention to their conversation.
"What's the difference?" Justin asked laying down his pencil and looking up at Brian with those confused yet beautiful crystal blue eyes.
“Huh?”
"What's the difference between lying and pretending? It's the same thing isn't it. I can't lie, Just Brian. Barney always said that lying will only get you into trouble and I don't want to be in trouble.”
Brian laughed out loud at Justin’s all too innocent, unjaded way of thinking.
“Fuck Barney! I promise you, you will not get in trouble, Justin. And who are you going to believe? Me or some guy in a ratty old purple dinosaur costume, huh? Besides, when you see actors in a movie or on TV they are just pretending, right? They’re not really doctors and lawyers or even homeless. So just think of yourself as an actor who is only pretending to be an artist.” Brian smiled softly and added as an afterthought “Although judging from what I can see - which is really good - there won’t be too much pretending involved.” Justin looked unconvinced, but didn't argue so Brian figured it might be alright after all. “Now, it's getting late, so why don't you put that stuff away and try to get some sleep. Okay?”
"But . . . I'm not tired, Just Brian."
“Well, then just sit quietly and eat your peanuts.”
“I already did,” Justin said, looking so adorably innocent Brian couldn’t help but smile and ruffle the kid’s golden tresses.
“Fine. Well, then, go ahead and eat my peanuts," Brian offered.
"I already did," Justin softly confessed, giving Brian a shy but guilty glance through silken lashes; his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.
"Justin . . . Okay, just put your headphones back on and listen to some more music, then. But NO singing!” Brian suggested, leaning his head back against the small coach seat and closing his eyes in an attempt to get at least a little bit of sleep.
He wasn’t at all surprised when a few minutes later, he felt the petite blond’s warm body snuggled tightly into his side and his breath tickling his neck as he whispered in his ear. "Goodnight, Just Brian, I hope you don’t have red eyes when you wake up.”
“Excuse me, Sir,” Brian was rudely awakened by a tapping on his shoulder to find one of the flight attendants crouched next to his seat. “I'm afraid we have a bit of a problem. Your . . . friend . . . has been in the bathroom a very, very long time. I'm not sure what's going on, but perhaps you could come help?”
"Um . . . Uh, well, sure. Whatever,” Brian stuttered, only half awake, but got to his feet and followed the flight attendant towards the lavatories in the rear of the airplane.
The attendant indicated which of the two johns Justin was apparently occupying. Brian rapped his knuckles sharply against the door. There wasn't any immediate reply.
“Hey, Justin? Justin, what's going on in there? Do you need something? If you're done you need to come out already, someone else might need to get in there,” Brian tried to sound reasonable and calm as he cajoled the young blond out of his hiding place.
"I-I-I can't figure out how to flush the toilet, Just Brian,” Justin’s voice came through the doorway sounding upset and very distressed.
“He's a first-time flyer," Brian explained to the flight attendant who was still hovering nearby. “It's okay, Justin. It's just a little different than your usual toilet. You see the knob on the wall behind the bowl? Push that.”
“It says ‘flush’ right on it," the unhelpful flight attendant added with some exasperation.
“The letters are all worn off," Justin commented, still from inside the john.
Brian gave the flight attendant a knowing smirk. “That's okay, Justin. Go ahead and push it.”
Which Justin apparently did, judging by the loud whooshing noise they all heard from where they were standing in the hallway outside the lavatory. Unfortunately, the loud whooshing noise was accompanied by a loud screaming noise, as the door to the bathroom flew open and a panic stricken Justin fell out of the small cubicle into Brian's arms. Pretty much the entire rear section of the airplane was startled awake by the young blond’s high-pitched screeching. None of them looked particularly happy with the method used to awaken them.
“I don’t like that bathroom, Just Brian . . . the toilet is all funny and kind of stinky, and way too noisy. And it was kind of scary, too.”
"You did fine, Justin. Just fine. Now, let's go back to our seats and try to sleep some more, okay?” Brian led an unprotesting blond boy back down the aisle towards their seats near the center of the plane.
With a little bit of effort, Brian managed to get the boy resettled in his seat, his sketchpad and pencil in hand, and quiet enough so that he himself could drift back into a light doze. He was starting to wonder how long this flight could possibly be and also if there was any way he could force the energetic young blond to try and sleep. Would it be completely out of line to get the kid stinking drunk? At least that might put him to sleep. Brian abandoned that thought, but settled on at least getting the young man a beer. That would keep him occupied for at least a little while, right?
Justin happily accepted the aluminum can and small plastic glass handed to him a minute later by the flight attendant. Brian wasn't paying too much attention - he was trying to block out the babbling as the boy explained that his mother had never allowed him to have sodas or anything else out of a can but that he'd always wanted to try one of these drinks after he saw it on television. All Brian could think of after that comment was that he'd never met a more sheltered person in his life. In a way, Brian was rather honored to be in part responsible for introducing all these new life experiences to the boy.
All these new life experiences including, apparently, Justin's very first taste of beer. The unsuspecting youth took a healthy mouthful of the brew. His eyes bulged out a bit and the next thing Brian knew, a yeasty beer geyser was sprayed on the back of the seat in front of Justin and the splatter made its way onto Brian and Justin’s right side neighbor. Justin of course, was wearing the bulk of the spew and sat there frozen in place looking like he was about to cry.
Brian dropped his head back against the headrest, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Just when he thought the situation couldn’t get worse, it did. The flight attendant came bustling over with towels to wipe down the back of the seats. Unfortunately, the row still smelt like a brewery as did the three passengers sitting there.
“I’m sorry sir, but if your friend here continues to cause problems, we’ll have to ask you to disembark at the next layover.” The flight attendant was completely exasperated with the mischievous blond.
“Yeah, yeah. He doesn’t get out much . . .” Brian offered a little petulantly, getting a little pissed off at the flight attendant’s irksome tone of voice. “But, really, you guys should be paying us to fly with you - where else are you gonna get all this free entertainment?” He shot back with his snarkiest smile, causing the flight attendant to frown at him and quickly tramp back down the aisle to commiserate with his companions.
As soon as they were mostly mopped up, and Brian had quelled the little blond’s repeated attempts to apologize some more, he pulled out his cell phone, flipped it into ‘Airplane Mode’ and pulled up the Sudoku app he sometimes played with when he was killing time. Picking the easiest level, he handed the phone over to the kid, who seemed to pick up on the game concept quickly - as soon as he got over exclaiming over the tiniest television screen that he’d ever seen. Brian figured that Sudoku should at least keep the boy quietly entertained for a few hours, so he once again leaned his seat back and tried to get some shut eye.
Brian had apparently figured wrong, though . . .
“Sir. Sir, I’m sorry to bother you again, but your friend . . .” the prissy flight attendant was once again tapping at Brian’s shoulder with that disapproving look on his prune-like face.
“What the hell has he done this time, Poindexter?”
The attendant led Brian up to the front of the plane, shoving aside the privacy drape between the main cabin and the first class seats, then pointed to the second row of seats - one of which now held his missing blond boy. Justin was still playing the game on Brian’s phone, but he had spread himself out across both large, well-cushioned seats, the leg rest extended and his feet up. He had also appropriated one of the much nicer sets of headphones that they gave out to the first class passengers and his head was bopping along to whatever music he was listening to as he quietly hummed. In front of him, he had a line of small plastic bowls set up on the pull down seat tray - most of which were empty, but with the last two still containing a sampling of peanuts.
“Justin, come on. Get up. You can’t sit here.” Brian said as he knelt down next to Justin and pulled off the headphones. “We have to go back to our own seats.
“Why can’t I sit here, Just Brian? I was just getting comfortable. And those other seats are too small.” Justin smiled sweetly at Brian, giving him a quick flutter of his long golden lashes.
“But we didn’t pay for the big seats, Justin.”
“Can we pay for them now?”
“No. We can’t. You have to come back and sit with me.”
“But, Just Brian . . .”
“What is WRONG with your boyfriend?” the snotty flight attendant asked in a condecending voice, looking to the First Class flight attendant to back him up in dealing with this apparently disruptive passenger.
Brian stood and with one step was right up in the man’s face. “Nothing’s WRONG with my boyfriend. What the fuck’s wrong with you? It’s not like he’s hurting anything here. He just doesn’t understand the rules. So just back off already, Poindexter!”
“WELL . . . I never!” the attendant scoffed as he turned to leave..
“Maybe you should someday. Of course, you’d have to take the fucking stick out of your ass first!” Brian rejoined and then turned to Justin, adding in a much gentler tone, “Come on, Justin. We have to get back to our seats before they throw us off the plane.”
“Can I take the peanuts?” Justin asked, cradling one of his bowls in his hands as he crawled out of his comfy nest.
“Those are First Class peanuts, sir,” Poindexter said imperiously.
“You can take my peanuts, young man,” offered the passenger in the seat on the other side of the aisle with a friendly smile.
“I already did,” Justin stated sheepishly.
The passenger gave an amused chuckle, “So you did. Just let the kid have the bowl of nuts. I’ll take care of it. And while you’re at it, let them both stay in first class. There are plenty of free seats. I’ll even pay for it out of my salary. This young man reminds me of one of my grandsons. Let me introduce myself, I’m the CEO of this airline, Stan Kingston.”
Justin smiled back at the man with his gloriously huge sunshiney smile and then waved before crawling back into his nice BIG seat after hearing the robust gentleman’s announcement. Brian shook his head, amazed at the way this little blond imp managed to somehow, once again, get his way. It was truly amazing watching the innocent kid work his wiles on almost everyone around him.
“I’ll go get our stuff from the back. You stay put for once, please, Justin,” Brian ordered.
“While you’re at it, please make sure you bring his SHOES,” Poindexter not-so-kindly reminded. “We DO have a rule that passengers are not supposed to be walking in the aisles without their shoes on.”
“I don’t like shoes, Angry Man . . . they hurt my feet," Justin explained, holding out his bare feet and wiggling his toes as evidence. “And those floppy shoes you borrowed from the guy in his underpants at the dancing place really don’t fit right anyway, Just Brian. They’re too big. They make me trip when I try to wear them.”
Brian turned fifty shades of red as everyone in first class looked over at him, waiting for an explanation. Kingston chuckled from his nearby seat. The two waiting flight attendants smirked at him. But, instead of answering, Brian simply turned his back on them and stalked into coach to retrieve their stuff.
When Brian returned, he was relieved to find Justin where he’d left him. Brian took the aisle seat and stowed their bags under the seat in front of them, relaxing back into the much more spacious seats with a hefty sigh. Justin smiled over at him and held up his bowl of peanuts in order to share his bounty. Brian huffed a little amused laugh and took a peanut.
“Just Brian . . . Did you really mean it when you told that Angry Man I was your boyfriend?” Justin asked a little shyly.
Brian rolled his eyes and again shook his head, not really sure how to deal with this kid and all his awkward questions, but knew that he didn’t want to hurt him. “Yeah . . . I guess I did,” Brian conceded.
With a blinding smile aimed at Brian, Justin cheerfully proclaimed, “My mother told me I'd never be anyone's boyfriend . . .”
“Yeah, well, I guess she was wrong then!” Brian stated and stole another peanut out of Justin’s bowl.
