Chapter 17: Out Of Touch

Lyrics

Shake it up is all that we know/ Using the bodies up as we go/ Waking up to fantasy/ The shades all around aren't the colors we used to see/ Broken ice still melts in the sun/ And times that are broken can often be one again/ We're soul alone/ And soul really matters to me/ Take a look around/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around/ Reaching out for something to hold/ Looking for a love where the climate is cold/ Manic moves and drowsy dreams/ Or living in the middle between the two extremes/ Smoking guns hot to the touch/ Would cool down if we didn't use them so much/ We're soul alone/ And soul really matters to me/ Too much/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around

You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around

Songwriters: HALL, DARYL / OATES, JOHN

Out Of Touch lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Meanwhile in Pittsburgh...

George's POV

Noticing the email link on my phone lit up, I go into my office and sit down at my desk. Although I like the fact that I can get mail on my phone- still a revelation considering my age- I find typing on it to be a major pain in the ass. Malcolm often laughs at me because I insist on answering an email from a desktop or my laptop, instead of my inconsiderate mobile phone with the tiny buttons. In case it needs to be said, I absolutely abhor autocorrect, but consider it a necessary evil when my rather large fingertips glide over the wrong letter. Fuck all of that, just give me a keyboard! But I digress...

Opening the email it reads:

George,

I don't know how you figured it out, or who told you. But thank you for shipping this particular package to me. It's time he and I cleared the air.

All my love and respect,

Justin

I reread it several times, before noticing that Malcolm has come into the room. I know how much he and I lived through to get to where we are now. Virginia, and some of our so-called friends, made it especially hard for us to be together. He and I fought through all the viciousness of rumors and sly innuendo. It helped that I was well-off financially and that he was as well.

But it still didn't stop the gold-digging accusations, by any means. People tend to forget that just because Malcolm prefers to do the gardening personally in our area, that he owns brand name floral shops, both domestic and abroad. It just so happens that he loves to play in the dirt, like any other five year old boy. But that's my man! He's a lot like Emmett, in that he doesn't give a shit what people think, feel, or say about him but he's got a generous heart that's been bruised, like Brian and Justin's. If I can aid in their road to together forever, I will do whatever is in my power to do just that.

Putting Brian on the jet was just the first step. Alphonse really likes Brian, and thinks that what I'm doing is a real class act. He still tends to mix up the American terms, but either way, I'm glad he believes that I am. I don't do this for praise, applause or gratitude, but because I believe that everyone should live the life they want and to have the love they deserve. From what Emmett told me about Brian and Justin's tumultuous past, I can't think of two men more deserving.

Not only that, but I'm determined that no one except those who must know- like Ted and Cynthia- are aware that they are together for this week. As for the rest of their friends and family, it's good to keep them guessing. I know the Petersons, and that Lindsay chit. In a lot of ways she reminds me of Virginia; her avarice is so damn strong. So, needless to say it is giving me a great deal of pleasure to thwart her. Nancy has always rubbed me the wrong way, and as she was Virginia's best gal pal, we all know she's a bitch. The proverbial apple didn't fall far from the tree with the Peterson girls, that's for sure. However, I'm not so sure that Lindsay hasn't surpassed her mother and sister in the greed department.

They at least have morals, no matter how questionable they are. But from what I've heard thus far about Lindsay Peterson, she doesn't. Anyway, Brian and Justin definitely need the time alone to work out their issues so that they can withstand whatever other bull is coming at them whenever they resurface.

"Did the package arrive safely, Georgie?"

"Yeah, it did. I was just reading Justin's email to let me know."

"Think they will be able to work it out?"

"I don't know, Malc. I can only hope they will."

"Well if you're pulling for them, then that's all they need, Babe," he says, finishing it with a gentle kiss.

I can't help, but be thankful that the Hide-and-Go-Seek era of our relationship is officially a thing of the past. I couldn't imagine having to relive that time again, but I would if it meant that I get to keep Malcolm to spend the rest of my days with. He's the very best thing that's ever happened to me.

Daphne:

I'm sitting here with Phoebe, going over the notes for my anatomy and physiology class when Ethan rushes in. I pretend I don't see him, because the last thing I want to do is talk to the fool. Every since Justin left three weeks ago, he's been showing up wherever the hell I am every fucking time I turn around. One would think with his best friend sitting right next to me he would pay attention to her and stop zeroing in on me, looking for tidbits as to why Justin isn't responding to his emails. Part of me would feel sorry for him, if I actually liked the bastard.

Justin told me what Ethan said and his accusations toward him prior to his leaving. I wished he would have told Ethan flat out that it was over between them before he left, but Justin is determined not to send the idiot into a tailspin before his competition. Ethan stands to gain a contract with the Harrisburg Philharmonic if he wins the Heifetz Competition, which would remove him from Justin's orbit permanently. That hope and promise is the only thing keeping me semi-civil to the asshole. Phoebe has her own competition to prepare for, but is helping me study in Justin's stead.

She says that it gives her fingers a rest, and I imagine it does. Must be nice to only have to bend your fingers around a coffee cup, instead of keeping them crooked to play a piano for at least three hours a day. And that's what she calls a slack day! I shake my head at the thought, just as pretentious pussyboy arrives at our table.

"Daphne, may I have a word?"

"You just did... six of them, to be exact. Do I look like Vanna to you? This isn't Wheel of Fortune," I respond, already annoyed at the sound of his voice.

"Look, it's important."

"So is me studying to ace my exam. Unlike you, I have a test every week so I can't afford to slack off, or in your case, stalk people."

"You mean to tell me you can't take five minutes to talk to me?!"

"I would, but I really don't want to."

"Ethan..." Phoebe begins, but he cuts her off.

"Not now, Phebes. Daphne, I don't appreciate your tone, or your total disregard for my feelings."

"Boo-fucking-hoo, like I really give a shit what you appreciate. I don't appreciate you tracking me down every time you want information that I can't give you. In case you don't know what state we're in, we are in Pennsylvania, NOT California. If I remember my geography correctly, California and Pennsylvania are about three-thousand miles apart. Justin doesn't have a tracking device in his ass, or fingers. If he isn't emailing you back, he's probably doing what he was sent out there to do, which is WORK. He has a job, which is more than I can say for you."

"Why are you being such a bitch?"

"Better a bitch, who is about to bite you, than the pussy who's hissing and spitting because he isn't getting his way again. Now personally, I'm tired of this conversation Ethan, and on MY campus, no less. Go practice or pray or play with yourself- I don't care which- but just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Turning to Phoebe, he begins to plead. "Please Phebes, talk to her. Tell her that I'm worried about Justin. I need to speak with him. Ever since he moved out, things... Well they haven't been the same."

"Perhaps they would be if you spent more time practicing and less time yapping, complaining about Justin not being at your beck and call," I can't help saying. He really is plucking my LAST nerve! I see my favorite security guard, who just happens to have a major crush on me. And if I had the time, I would certainly take him up on that crush. But there's no harm in flirting to get what I want, now is there? "Derek, hi! What brings you down here?"

"Just finally on break since Charlie came in. How are things with you? Studying for another AP test, I gather."

I twirl my hair, suddenly thankful I left it loose today. "Yep, you got it. But I'm being a bit bothered by a certain visitor to the campus... again... Who is looking for Justin... AGAIN. But even though he knows Justin's in L.A., he refuses to let me be long enough so that Phebes can drill me on some more of these terms."

Ethan has finally gotten the message. "Fine, Daphne! I will speak to you later, and make NO mistake we WILL speak later!"

"Don't count on it, Doofus," I say, as he beats a hasty retreat out of the cafeteria doors. "Thanks, Derek. I almost hope Justin stays gone until after Ethan wins that damn competition."

"Me too, but I'm surprised at you, Phoebe. Why aren't you defending him as you're usually wont to do?" Derek asks her.

She looks a bit uncertain at the question, and something else that I can't quite grasp. "I just... I don't agree with what he's doing, is all. Sometimes Ethan has a tendency to act like a spoiled child, and only cares about his wants, needs, and wishes. Right now, I'm not in the mood to placate, or defend him."

There's definitely something she's leaving unsaid, but I choose to ignore it for now. It's enough that she's not offering any ready-made excuses for the cretin. "I knew I would rub off on you on you one of these days, Phebes. Well we better get back to studying. Thank you for running interference, Derek."

"I didn't do much, but you're welcome, Daphne. Anytime." As he moves off, I turn to Phoebe, "Something you want to tell me?"

"What do you mean?"

I study her a bit more. "I know that there is more to this whole non-defense of Ethan than you're letting on, but in the interests of time and your sacrifice to help me out, I'm going to let it go for now." I watch as she exhales a gusty sigh of relief.

Yep, there is definitely something rotten with Ethan, and I have a funky suspicion that Phoebe knows exactly what it is. But first, I have to get through the test on the Endocrine System. Then Phoebe and I are going to have a nice long chat over some Chunky Monkey ice cream, while she unburdens her soul and explains her sudden aversion to defending all things Ethan Gold.

Cynthia

Oh my GOD, they are here AGAIN!! How many fucking ways can I say that Brian is not in his office and is on a business trip, before the damn Deaf and Dumb Twins get the message?!

"Well, where is he? This is an emergency!" Whiny Twin Wonder has activated his special power of ear-piercing proportions. I'm glad the windows are shatterproof.

"Cynthia, this is no time to be secretive," Now WASPY Twin has added her two cents.

For my part, I'm about to activate my own punch a fucker and slap a bitch power, but I am saved by the timely intervention of Ted. "Lindsay, Michael, what are you both doing here?"

"We came to speak to Brian, but this bi..."

"What Michael means is that we really need to speak with Brian, and Cynthia won't let us into his office to see him."

"I see. Well there is a very good reason for that. It's because he isn't here. He's on a business trip, and will not be back until the GLC Carnivale," Ted says, as if he's talking to people who are hard of hearing. And based on their responses, perhaps they are.

"Well, where is he?" Lindsay asks.

"We need to speak to him," Michael insists. "We've been ringing his cell phone for the last six hours, and he hasn't answered!"

"What if Gus needs him? How am I supposed to get in touch with him?"

Well now, THAT did it for me! I pick up the phone, and hit speed dial number five. "Hello, Mel. It's Cynthia. No, Brian didn't ask me to call. He's on a business trip, but Lindsay is here. Is Gus okay? That's what I thought. Well it's just that she's concerned that if something happens to Gus, she has no way to get to Brian while he's on his trip. Oh he is, is he? Well that's just wonderful news! I'll let Lindsay know. Thanks, Mel. And I'll talk to you at the meeting regarding Justin's lawsuit, tomorrow. Okay, bye now." I can't help but chuckle at Mel's choice words for Lindsay.

Now I have to address the harridan in question, and I can't deny that I will take every ounce of perverse pleasure in delivering Mel's statement. Trying to hold back the wide smile threatening to burst forth, I say, "Lindsay, Mel said that Gus is fine, and just walking around the table, while holding on to it. But that you would know that, if you were at home... where you belong. Instead you are, yet again, following the mindless, mealy-mouth sheep named Michael around, trying to involve yourself in business that isn't yours. She's aware that you took the Idiotman to see your parents' lawyer this morning, because he called her to let you know that you have no case, which is the same thing he told Michael late last week. She says that if you don't find yourself at home within the next thirty minutes, you'll be finding a new place to live. She also said that she didn't think Michael's old room- which he's currently staying in- was big enough for the two of you, since she has all of the money in her account. And as an additional courtesy, she asked me to let you know that whatever is in the household expense account isn't enough to get you a room for an hour at the No-tell Motel at the corner of Liberty and Fourth. So you should choose your next course of action wisely."

"Oh wow... I guess that means you should be heading home, Lindsay," Ted says, jovially. "As for you Michael, don't forget that you need representation by the middle of next week, or you'll be going to court without any."

"Oh, and a small word of warning to both of you: the new security firm we've hired starts tomorrow. So your names and pictures will be given to the guards, and plastered at both the security check-in desk, as well as the front desk. Smile pretty!" I snap both of their pictures in quick succession, inwardly chuckling at the looks of indignation on their faces. "You will not be allowed into the building. If this keeps up, we will contact the company attorney to file restraining orders on you both."

"Bullshit!" Lindsay spews. "Melanie would never dare attempt blocking my access to Brian in such a manner, nor Michael's!"

"Perhaps that's true, but you should probably clean the wax out of your ears since I didn't say Brian's personal attorney, but the COMPANY attorney, which ironically just happens to be your own wife's personal attorney as well. For your infomation, most of the companies around here use the same firm. So I would suggest you both take heed to the warning, as it's the only one you're going to get. Now, since this is a place of business and we have much work to do, I would suggest the both of you GO tend to YOUR OWN business as well. Have a nice day. Ted, we have that conference call in about ten minutes."

"I'll be ready, Cyn. I was coming to bring the financials to your office, when I heard Michael and Lindsay." I grab the folder and head down to my office, listening to Ted as he ushered the two of them out of the building.

"I see you get a little position and you forget who your true friends are, Ted," Michael's whiny voice reached my ears, and not for the first time, I realize that he needs a muzzle.

"I don't think Mel will appreciate hearing about your treatment of me, Ted. I think she and I will have to reevaluate our decision to keep you on as our personal accountant."

I'm proud to hear Ted's sure and strong voice when he responds, "Lindsay, I have been Mel's accountant more years than you have been dating. Therefore, I have a very clear understanding of what she is worth... and what you are NOT. So there is no way in all of God's green and purple earth that you can threaten me with discontinued business since technically, YOU have NONE. I've also never tried to lord my supposed wealth over others."

"As for you Michael, if anything, Brian has only worked to uncover the side of my personality I have kept hidden for many years. I have a career which I love, a solid investment portfolio, and a bank account, which I have come by honestly, through hard work and sacrifice. I've never had to lie to my mother to get her to re-mortgage her house, because all of my ill-gotten gains have now put me in danger of having to serve a hefty jail sentence, as well as pay an astronomical fine simply on the strength of being an envious, spiteful, and stupid little boy trapped in the underdeveloped body of a man. Both of my degrees makes it so that I don't have to worry about being put out of my home, or worry about where my next meal is coming from in case my mother has finally gotten a clue about the little shit I really am. And even if I didn't have all that, I still wouldn't be an entitled, unmitigated jackass with a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon but with a brain capacity the size of a newborn gnat!

"So if having position within a new company with multi-millionaire clients has caused me to forget who my fake-ass friends are, then so be it. I have Em, Brian, Justin, and Melanie to call my true friends. Also Vic, Ben, Deb, and now Cynthia. Who do you have? Have a good day. Fred, can you please make sure they don't re-enter the building under any circumstances?"

"Right away, Mr. Schmidt," Fred, the temporary guard, continues to get Michael and Lindsay out as he responds.

When Ted steps into my office, I can't help but smile and hug the normally painfully shy man. "Working for Brian is doing you a world of good, Ted."

At first, I know he's surprised, but then he returns the embrace. "That it is, Cynthia. That it is."

"Are you ready to present to Dandy Lube?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he tells me as we sit down to go over the latest specs of the campaign. Watching him focus on all of the information, and not just the financials, I beam with pride. I am so fucking proud of Theodore Schmidt! And I know Brian would be, too.