CHAPTER 30: You Give Love A Bad Name
Lyrics
Shot through the heart/ And you're to blame/ Darlin', you give love a bad name
An angel's smile is what you sell/ You promise me heaven, then put me through Hell
Chains of love got a hold on me/ When passion's a prison, you can't break free
Oh, you're a loaded gun, yeah/
Paint your smile on your lips/ Blood red nails on your fingertips/ A school boy's dream, you act so shy/ Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye/ Oh, you're a loaded gun/ Oh, there's nowhere to run/ No one can save me/ The damage is done
Shot through the heart
And you're to blame
You give love a bad name (bad name)
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name (bad name)
Written by Richard Sambora, Desmond Child, Jon Bon Jovi
- Copyright © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Brian
It's early in the morning. The sun hasn't even risen over the horizon yet, and I still can't believe what that bitch has done. I mean, seriously?! Suggesting that Ian bust up Justin's jeep? To what purpose?
To keep Justin away from me, and trapped in an emotionally taxing relationship? Granted, he and I weren't exactly the poster boys for mental health while we were together, either. Between the tricking and the yo-yo effect, I put Justin through hell the first year. Then the bashing, and all the subsequent events led to Ethan being able to come between us. So yeah!
Justin and I have had our fair share of crazy, BUT, I would never put him through the mental and emotional abuse that those three assholes- two of which I considered to be my closest friends- did. I mean, if they would do that to Justin, who is practically a stranger, compared to how long we have all known each other, what the fuck have their manipulations been doing to me?
"Brian, come back to bed. And stop fucking thinking before you trigger the smoke detectors! I smell the burned rubber from here," Justin calls to me. If the situation wasn't so dire, I might have laughed.
"Sunshine, I... I can't sleep." I decide to be honest with him because... Well, it affects him probably more than it does me.
Lindsay and Michael's actions were done apparently, in the name of their love for me. But right now, their brand of hate towards Justin is just as abusive and hurtful as my own parents were to me. But at this moment, I'm wondering if it is simply hate for Justin, or for me as well? Yeah, I think they really hate the both of us, especially Lindsay. As I stand here and think about every single backhanded compliment she's given me over the course of our friendship, I can finally hear the underhanded manipulations as well.
I can't count how many of the ‘you were born to fuck; not love' speeches I've endured. Or the ‘you need to change and grow up' speeches versus the ‘I want you to go out and fuck every hot guy you see' command from the day of her commitment ceremony to Mel, I played right into. It's funny, but when I look back over it all, I was the most grown up and responsible one out of all of them- something Justin spoke to me about many, MANY times during our first year. I own my own home, have a total of three degrees; two of which are Masters, which none of them know about. And I was on the fast track to making partner in my chosen field by the time Gus was born.
It took a kid, who was only supposed to be a one-night stand, to point out my accomplishments whenever what Lindsay, Michael, and even Deb, said about me would start playing with my mind. I think the thing that is plaguing me the most is that I'm a fucking expert at reading people and their motives, but couldn't see what the actions of those closest to me were doing to both me and Justin. I fucking trusted the wrong people! I guess what Buddha said about an insincere friend needing to be more feared than a wild beast is absolutely true. Whereas the wild beast will wound the body, Lindsay and Michael have wounded my mind...
And I let them, so what the fuck is wrong with me?!
I didn't hear him get out of bed, but I find myself wrapped in the blanket still warmed from his lithe frame, his nakedness pressed firmly against my back. This brings me out of my dark thoughts, and into a state of peace about the whole thing. It's ironic how Justin is able to do that for me; able to sense my inner turmoil and move in such a way that he is right there when I need him the most. He doesn't speak, but holds me tightly, even as I stand here trying to fight the tears that I feel in the recesses of my eyes. Their betrayal hurts worse than all of the beatings I've endured at Jack's hands.
All of the passive-aggressive pronouncements and malicious judgements from Joan and Claire combined, were less painful than this. I feel like I am breaking into pieces, and yet, the man behind me won't let me. I know he won't. Throughout all of this, I've always trusted Justin Cole Taylor. In some strange way, even on the night we met, I have always trusted him.
Even through the shit with Ethan, when he cheated, I still knew that I could count on him. Even if I didn't want to, I knew I could still call him if I needed him, and he'd magically appear. His only ulterior motive was for me to love him, as he has always loved me. But he didn't use any underhanded tactics, to make that happen. No, he was just himself.
Precocious. Tenacious. Challenging and enlightening at times, he never lets me rest on my laurels, or accepts the commonplace from me. He just accepts me. It took losing him through the others' machinations for me to really appreciate that fact.
Not only that, but it showed me just how clouded my own vision has been when it comes to the family. Again, I have to ask myself: Just what the fuck was wrong with me?!
"We're due at Mel's at nine, and the police station at ten. Any idea what you are going to do?" I ask him, quietly.
I must say, the view from Justin's tiny abode is beautiful. There's a peace and surrealism here, almost like we aren't anywhere near Pittsburgh, but somewhere in the country. It's like an artist colony of one. I can certainly understand why he chose this place. Although I know if I ask him, he'll tell me that it chose him.
"I honestly haven't gotten that far yet. I just know that I am going to have Michael and Ethan formally charged. I know that you are alright about Ethan, but..."
"You want to know if what you do to Michael will affect us as we are now."
"Yeah."
I sigh. I can understand his apprehension. I've always protected Michael; always seemed to choose Michael over him. That's especially true when it came to the possibility of dealing with Deb, after Michael's incessant whining. Why should he belive that now would be any different? For a man who lives by the ‘no regrets' edict, I seem to be racking up quite a few in terms of how my past actions and reactions affected Justin.
"Do you remember the promise I made you when you and Michael decided to start the comic?"
"You said that you would never side with either one of us to solve a disagreement, be it creative or business. But Brian, this is different. My actions towards him will send Michael to jail for a lot of years. Even if he gives me back all of the money, what he did is a federal crime. The State of Pennsylvania is not about to let that go.
"Hell, they didn't let it go in regards to Stockwell, and especially not Saperstein- a gay man who was the owner of the largest nightclub, and a homosexual establishment at that. Stockwell and Gary were much bigger fish to fry. If not for the insurmountable evidence against both of them, they may not have even bothered. But Michael is a little fish in a big pond now, with the critical acclaim and national fame of Rage. Couple that with all of his conspiracy activities with Lindsay and Ethan, they sure as hell aren't going to let Michael get away with any of it."
"Then if you know all of this, Sunshine, why the doubt?"
"Because he's your oldest friend."
"Was."
"Was?"
"Yeah Justin, he was. I've been thinking a lot about what Michael and Lindsay have done and said over the years; the things they encouraged, and the things I let them get away with. It's not easy to admit aloud, but I've been a blind fool."
"I can't disagree with you there, but Brian, don't beat yourself up too much. All of us put our faith in the wrong people at some point. I sure as hell did."
"Justin, you were the innocent in all of this."
"If that's the case, then so were you."
"But I wasn't."
"Well neither was I."
"But..."
"No buts, Brian. Or as you like to remind me, I have a butt, you have a butt, but that's not the but we're talking about."
I laugh. I can't help it. Justin was always a master at throwing my words back at me. "So none of us can be fully absolved."
"Exactly, Stud. It doesn't make you nor I stupid, or even too trusting. We were guilty of, for once, seeing what we wanted to see. We'll just know better next time, shake the dust off our feet and keep moving on with our lives."
"That simple, huh?"
"No. Not simple at all, but necessary. Otherwise we'll be just as stuck as the PITA Association and I for one, refuse to be anything like them."
I turn into his arms, looking down into the blue eyes I have come to know so well. "How did you get so smart?"
Justin smiles the smile he reserves only for me; the one that comes straight from his heart and lights his entire being from within. "I learned from the Master," he says, and that was all the encouragement I needed to know that whatever Justin does about Michael and company, he and I will be alright.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS
Ethan
I can't believe that I'm still stuck in this godforsaken place in a cell with the idiot who has yet to wake up. If only he hadn't started the argument with me last night in public, our secrets wouldn't be out. And I would be on a fucking plane right now to Hamburg with Justin. But no! Between LeRoy outing our affair, and Michael's blatant stupidity, not only have I lost Justin and possibly my career, but my freedom- at least for the moment.
I called my new agent I received as a prize for winning the Heifetz and explained that I would be delayed in arriving because of a domestic dispute which was in fact, a simple misunderstanding. He asked me if there had been any formal charges filed as of yet. When I told him no, he said that he was sorry to hear of my troubles, but that as a result of last night's very public falling out, my replacement was called and has already boarded the plane in my stead. Marta Cuthbert.
Fucking Marta!
I remember looking at the score sheet, just before finding out that I had won the competition, which I had only won by a margin of two points. Two fucking points! No wonder they were not willing to wait for me! So as of right now, I am out of my opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the insignificant, irresponsible, certifiably-insane PRICK still knocked out from the punch Justin delivered to him last night, and the drugs they administered so that the medics could set his nose back into its joint. Well, Mr. Michael Novotny will be in for a very rude awakening when he comes to.
I may have lost my career, but I won't be going down alone. I'm about to fucking sing like the proverbial canary! Both Michael Novotny and Lindsay fucking Peterson will pay for their crimes as I will pay for mine, whatever they may be. Hopefully, in finally being honest, they will offer me some type of deal. But regardless of that, I never meant to hurt Justin although I know I did.
And that knowledge is the one thing that will hold me prisoner for the rest of my life. Justin is a good man; a great one even. He didn't deserve what we all tried to do to him. He didn't deserve Michael and Lindsay stealing from him, and messing with everything he held dear. And he certainly didn't deserve me trying to enforce my will upon him, the way they did. In my book, that makes me no better than his own father, who systematically tried to take everything away from Justin, including his mother and sister's love. Thank God he wasn't able to do that!
So I if I can make Justin's life easier in any way... Yes, I can give him this. I can, at last, give him peace, which still pales in comparison to the constant encouragement he gave me, when it came to my craft. Would that I had valued and treasured his talent, maybe he and I... No.
We still wouldn't have been together. He and Kinney would have STILL found their way back to each other. It's the point that was really driven home to me last night. Kinney allowed Justin to be the strong resilient man he really is beneath that angelic exterior, while I... I just wanted to suffocate his spirit so he would never leave me.
That's no way to live, I know that now. So while I'm perhaps saving myself, I can do this one last thing for Justin to show him that I really understand now. And maybe in some small way, I will have earned a modicum of his forgiveness.
"Officer, I am ready to make my statement now."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS
Lindsay
I wake up from the most horrible dream of my life, with a terrible migraine. My skin feels clammy, and I know that the bed beneath me has been soaked through, as my t-shirt is clinging to me from the terror I felt trapped in that somatic world. I feel more tired than I have ever felt and I know that I won't be able to rest properly until I hold Gus. But first... Coffee.
As I traverse down the stairs, it's disheartening to know that apparently my nightmare hasn't ended, since I seem to actually still be in my parents' house. I move a little faster than the sedate pace I was taking, following the voices that are filled with laughter. What the fuck is so funny? I think to myself, even as I am also hearing the distinctive rhythmic tapping of what sounds like a hammer to a nail. I don't remember my mother telling me that they were having work done on the house so I'm not quite sure what is going on.
Right... I'll seek her out after I find a cup of liquid sanity, which I can tell from the aroma, has been freshly made.
I pass the closed door of the parlor, and realize that this is where the laughter is centered as well as that god-awful tapping, which has now begun a cadence in my head. I find myself getting angrier and angrier at the thoughtlessness of both my mother's guests, who are cackling, and the fucking idiot who is still working while I am suffering this fucking headache. With that in mind, I burst through the doors, not caring that I am still rather underdressed in my damp t-shirt and loose-fitting pajama bottoms. Had I known that there was going to be company at this ungodly hour of the morning, I may have tried to make myself presentable. But fuck them!
I live here too, and if she isn't going to be considerate of me, then I damn sure won't be of Nancy Peterson!
"Mother, would you mind keeping down the noise? I have a headache!" I demand, not paying attention to anyone else in the room."It's far too early for all this racket!"
"Apologies, dear. But if you don't like it, you can always go home." My mother said. I can't help but glare at her, knowing full well what she was going to say next. "Oh, sorry again, dear. I know that's a sore point right now, since you don't actually have a home and are living here upon mine and Ronald's sufferance."
"Sufferance? Need I remind you of..."
"No Lindsay, you don't. In fact, you don't need to remind my guests either."
It was then that I look at the other occupants of the elegant room, and I know there is a scowl on my face. What the fuck were they doing here?! Modulating my voice, I paste a smile on my face, feeling as if it were going to crack at any moment. "Lynette, Jennifer, what pleasant surprises this morning. I apologize for my state of undress. If I had known you were coming, I would have dressed for the occasion. And what exactly is the occasion, Mother?"
My mother was about to answer when Jennifer Taylor interrupted. "Please allow me to explain, Nancy. Lindsay, dear..." I look at her thinking, Yes explain just what was the mother of my nemesis is doing in MY home! Once again, it is an supreme effort on my part to keep the expression on my face to one of polite interest as she continues speaking. "I thought you knew that I was the latest council member, benefactress and co-chairperson alongside Melanie for the GLC Carnivale last night. As such, I just had to come and congratulate your parents on purchasing a collection of artwork valued just shy of a million dollars. Thanks to their rather large donation, the Vic Grassi house and many other charities, and other prominent businesses on Liberty Avenue- both established and in the works- will benefit from their generosity."
I was taken aback by Jennifer's announcement. Artwork valued near a million dollars? Who was the artist? Where is the collection? Why wasn't I informed of this by Sidney, whom I'd just seen last night?
"Well where is this collection of near priceless works? I'm surprised I had not heard about it."
"No, you wouldn't have, dear. I imagine you had your hands quite full last night. I heard that you were dating Clarence Winters. He's quite the catch, Lindsay."
"Yes he is, Jennifer. Do you know him?"
"Oh yes. Clarence and I have had many business dealings in the past. In fact, he was one of my first customers when he was looking for an estate here in the suburbs. He lives just on the other side of Sewickley, in Belle Aire. I think Brian is even thinking of buying a house there."
"Brian? Buying a house? Surely you are mistaken." I couldn't help but rush out that response. Suddenly, my head is throbbing again but this time in excitement. Could it be that he is finally ready to prepare for our lives together? God, I hope so! Living with my mother has become rather tedious.
"It's just an idea that has been forming to date, but I'm pretty sure that if things go the way they should between him and Justin, that thought could certainly come to fruition."
What the fuck?!! She couldn't have just said, what I think she did. I was about to ask when I notice the looks passing between Lynette, Jennifer, and my mother. Was that... Happiness?
Hope?
Joy?
OH HELL NO!!!!!!!
But I couldn't say any of that right now. I know now that my nightmare of last night was indeed very real. And that everything I have been working towards these past many years is, once again, slipping through my fingers! I continue to look at the smug faces, tittering behind their fingers and innuendo as if I am no longer standing here. I interrupt before the talk of Brian and Justin makes my empty stomach upchuck the acid I feel, churning inside it.
"So where is this artwork you have told me about?"
"Oh right! Lindsay, if you would follow me, I can show it to you while Mother and Jennifer continue their visit," Lynette offers.
Although I am far from happy to see her, I am glad that she is there so that I can have an ally to escape from the conversation I no longer want to hear. "Sure, Lynette. I would be happy to look at them with you."
As we go to the other end of the parlor, I notice there are two armed guards, standing against the wall where the art must be hanging. I find that rather strange, and question Lynette about it. She replies, "Well, Mother and Daddy didn't trust your reaction when you see them. Also, it was a request of the artist that his work be protected, especially since they are gifts for someone else."
"Why would Mother and Daddy question my integrity in such a manner? They know how I value art." I am, undoubtedly, quite perturbed by their lack of trust in me.
"It certainly doesn't help that you are desperate and broke, Lindsay."
"Excuse me? I am certainly NOT desperate, nor am I broke."
"Oh come off it, Lindsay. If you weren't, you would certainly not be mooching off Mom and Dad at your age."
"Mooching? I do not mooch, fuck you very much! Besides, they made a deal with the devils of my life. It's only a matter of time before I am from under their thumbs again. And when I am..."
"You will still be flat broke and hopefully in a land far, far away."
I am so tired of this bitter bitch, and I tell her so! "Lynette, dear, you really need to let go of the past. In fact, you should be thanking me. Because of my interference, you've ended up much richer and you don't have to whore yourself anymore."
"No, we'll leave the act of whoring to you, Lindsay, since you're so good at it. Or maybe not, since you've had more rides than a thoroughbred show has horses, and still none of them were inclined to go the matrimonial route with you. But here's a tip for future reference: No one particularly likes it loose, Lindsay. In fact, if we are being honest here, I'm surprised that no one has come up missing from falling in. But that is the past, isn't it? Clarence is such a wonderful man to take you on. He is either trying really hard to get into Heaven, or wants to experience hell by dating you. Either way, I do wish you luck. Ah, we have arrived at the artwork. I'll just step back and let you absorb it, in all its glory."
I scowl at her, even as I step a little closer, only to be stopped by the security men. The tall one with the melting eyes says, "Sorry Ma'am, but you have to stay behind the rope."
"Excuse me, Officer..."
"Bishop. Harrington Bishop, ma'am."
"Well, Officer Bishop, I'm not sure that you know it, but I am an expert on art, having studied it for many years. I know how to treat priceless works."
"Be that as it may, ma'am, I also have my orders and we were told that YOU specifically, Miss Peterson, were not to get within five feet of the artwork. That's sixty inches, if you need to do the math, which is exactly where the rope is placed."
"I don't believe this," I grumble. "This is my home! What is so special about it anyway?"
"Oh, thank goodness you waited for Jennifer and I before doing the unveiling, Bishop! Ronald and Clarence will be along momentarily. Perhaps you would like a seat, Lindsay? You still look a bit peaked. Is your head still hurting?"
"More than you know mother, especially in the face of such insolence," I respond, cutting my eyes in the direction of the infuriating man my mother refers to simply by his last name. "Whatever though. I won't need a chair. I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Suit yourself; just remembered that I offered."
Before I could utter the acid-laced reply on the tip of my tongue, Daddy and Clarence join us at the collection site. I can't believe this much attention is being given to works that were donated to charity. All of a sudden, I'm thinking it must be a Renoir series or Van Gogh, or even Rodan. But then it may just be some of the artists titled the newer Masters. I can't imagine someone letting the older ones go to benefit charity work. They are much too valuable, and it would be the epitome of stupid to let those go for nothing.
As the shorter security guard delicately grabs the rope, my stomach is in knots and I am regretting not taking the offer from mother for a chair. I don't know if it's because of the headache intensifying, or because of the excitement of it all. Although the works were covered, I could tell the frames were not only expensive, but artistically ornate as well. Some were wrought with iron, while others depicted classical scenes. The largest frame of them all was gold with a sun in the center, with Zeus on one side and Apollo on the other.
Upon further inspection- well as much as I was able from this distance- I noticed that the frame itself was a study of both Greek and Roman mythology. It was extremely well-thought out and flawlessly executed. Finally they were being unveiled, and even as my stomach roiled, my blood boiled as I see each piece uncovered. The original artwork of Rage by Justin Taylor is not only visually stunning, but causes intense reactions. Which is all I can feel right now.
That little bastard's doodles brought this kind of attention and fortune?! Really?!
Admittedly, they are all very good, and I envy that fucker his talent. And looking at them, I honestly cannot call them ‘doodles', since all ten of them have been painted and autographed. I remember seeing them when they were simply sketches, and even then they were perfection. But the center one catches my eye the most... And holds it captive.
Although there are various action scenes with Rage and JT in various poses, some of which have gone into the first volume- a series of five comics which skyrocketed basically overnight- the others are as sexually explicit as they come. JT giving Rage a blowjob; Rage returning the favor in kind; Rage and JT amongst others, having public sex while the onlookers jerk themselves off with looks of lust and envy illustrated on their faces, JT riding Rage mid-air among the clouds... It's sickening and titillating all at the same time! But perhaps, that's just my reaction to them. However, it's the fifth one in the center that is like a knife to my heart.
JT and Rage are making love face-to-face, under blue lights. Their faces are close, but it's their eyes that the viewer can't help but be drawn to. They show all of the emotion they feel for each other, their hands joined above JT's blond head while his feet rest at Rage's coccyx with the toes curled. Not only can one feel the passion from it, but the love that is untouchable between them, and I know beyond doubt that Justin drew this with that in mind. Even as Rage dons his mask, the sparkling hazel of his eyes tells the story of what no one knew went on behind closed doors.
My land of smoke and mirrors has just come crashing down around me in the face of that very exposing painting... And has taken me right along with it.