**Brian's POV**

"I just don't know why my dad never loved me," Emmett blubbered as Julie and Ginger predictably fawned over him, patting his back and handing him tissues. "I tried my best to make him proud, but nothing I did was ever good enough."

I looked down at my lap as I tried not to roll my eyes at the drama unfolding in front of us during our evening group session. What began as a discussion as to what can cause addictions turned into Emmett giving us a history lesson of his childhood in the Bible Belt. I could feel Justin looking at me, as he knew that what Emmett was talking about was how I must have felt growing up with my asshole of a father that never loved me.

After smoking the rest of my pack on the roof that afternoon, I had a few hours before the evening session began to cool down and clear my head. Although I had a pretty good feeling that Justin was lying about me being "just another patient" to him, I decided to go along with his wish to keep things professional between us. No matter how badly I wanted to fuck him, the fact remained that the young man was my shrink, and I still had another eleven days under his "care." Hopefully, last night's dream was an isolated incident...

"Remember what we have talked about before, Emmett," Connie said to the bawling queen. "Your father was a conservative Southern Baptist man, and it was very hard for him to accept having a gay son."

"Well, even if Emmett had been straight, just the fact that he didn't want to do what his dad wanted him to do with his life may have been reason enough for him not to express love for him," The Ram said. "My folks wanted me to go to college and be a doctor or something, but all I wanted to do was music. Although I'm happy with my career, they feel like I'm throwing my life away."

Mel chimed in and said, "I went into law like my dad wanted me to, but he disowned me after I came out. I haven't spoken to him in over a decade."

"The same thing happened to me with my dad," Justin said. "I wanted to go to art school, but he said that he would only pay for my education if I went to his alma mater, so I started attending NYU just to make him happy." I looked up at him, surprised by this admission. Justin had always made it sound like being a counselor was his lifelong dream. "Although he was willing to shell out thousands of dollars for my schooling and housing, he made it clear that he doesn't want anything to do with me, since I'm gay. I was ‘undeclared' during my freshman year, and I only decided to choose counseling as my major after I had started going to counseling myself, to help cope with my fractured relationship with my father and the stress I was feeling in my life at the time. One reason why I want to earn my doctorate is so I can milk more money out of him." Justin and I both grinned at each other. It serves the bastard right, Sunshine.

"Do you think my parents were happy with me when they found out that I had started doing porn?" Ginger asked no one in particular. The ceiling I think, because that's where she's looking. "They thought I was going to nursing school, when really I used the money they gave me for school to get my boob job." What? You mean you didn't grow those triple D's yourself, Sweetheart? No... "When they found out the truth, they said they never wanted to see me again."

Emmett sniffled and asked, "So basically, you guys think that whether I was gay or straight, or whether I decided to work on the farm like he did or pursue a career as a stage actor, it wouldn't have mattered? My father still may not have loved me?"

"My old man didn't know I was gay until I was twenty-nine, plus he didn't give a fuck what I decided to do with my life, and he still hated me," I said to Emmett. "My mere existence was enough for him. If a parent truly loves their kid, then the details won't matter; they'll love them, regardless."

I met eyes with Justin again as the group all voiced their agreements with my statement. He nodded as Dr. Vic announced that our time was up for the evening.

Justin and I both waited for everyone else to leave the room, and he followed me out into the hallway. As we slowly walked down the hall, him towards his office and I towards the elevator, he said to me, "I wasn't expecting that."

"What?" I asked. "Emmett has cried at nearly every group session."

"No, not him. What you said about a parent's love... it was really nice. Actually, that was the first time you've ever said anything during a group meeting voluntarily," he said, looking down at his shoes. "I'm proud of you."

We stopped in front of his office door and awkwardly stood there for a few seconds. "Thanks," I said just above a whisper.

He looked up at me and gave a small smile. "You're welcome." Jesus, his eyes are amazing...

I looked away and was wondering where the fuck that lesbionic thought came from when Rat Face, the janitor I nearly punched out the day before, began walking towards us.

"I'll be ready to go in a few minutes," Justin said to the ugly bastard.

Rat Face smiled at Justin and said, "That's cool," as he walked past us.

Justin pulled his keys out of his pocket and turned away from me. "Uh... I'll see you tomorrow, Brian."

"Yeah... later," I said, walking away as Justin unlocked his office door.

What the fuck was that about?

**Justin's POV**

Hobbs and I handed our menus over to our big-breasted waitress, who was wearing a very low cut Yankees t-shirt and hot pants, and I watched as Hobbs shamelessly stared at the girl's ass as she walked away.

"We didn't have to come here, you know," Hobbs said after he managed to tear his eyes away. "I'm sure this isn't your kind of place."

He was absolutely right- since he was treating, I told him to pick the restaurant. So of course, he chose a sports bar in Midtown. There were at least a dozen TVs mounted to the walls, each broadcasting a different sporting event. A group of frat boys was intently watching a baseball game a couple of tables away from us.

"No, this is fine," I lied, taking a sip of my Bud Light.

Just as we did in my car on the way over, we sat in silence... well, as silent as it can be in a sports bar. As I was fishing for something to say, I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket.

I took it out and saw that Daphne had sent me a text message during her blind date.

The message read: THIS GUYS A DWEEB!! :(

I smiled and sent her back: Do u want the call?

A moment later, she replied: YES PLZ 10 MIN

I sat my phone on the table and saw that Hobbs was looking at me curiously. "Oh, sorry," I said, realizing that I was being rude. Ever the WASP... "That was Daphne. She's on a blind date, and apparently it's not going very well."

"You're still friends with her?" he asked.

"Not just friends; we've lived together since we got out of high school."

Hobbs raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The two of you were always joined at the hip. I hardly talk to anyone from high school anymore. I lost touch with most of my old friends when I moved to Indiana."

Another moment of uncomfortable silence. "Well, Daph wants me to give her a ‘fake-out' phone call in a bit... you know, when you call a friend when they're on a date, and if the date is going bad, they pretend like you're their mom and that someone had been in a car accident?"

Hobbs chuckled. "Yeah, my buddy back in college used to do that for me." Apparently, the umpire made a bad call, because the frat boys yelled at the TV for several seconds before Hobbs continued, "Justin... I want to apologize to you for treating you like shit senior year."

I shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It's alright... water under the bridge."

Hobbs looked down at his hands and said, "No... you didn't deserve it. They tell us in 12 Steps that we should make amends to the people we've wronged in the past. Although I can't blame my shitty treatment of you on coke, I thought that it was important for me to make amends with you. I took my teenaged insecurities out on you, and it wasn't fair. I'm truly sorry for that."

I recalled all the times he called me a faggot, all the times he shoved me up against the wall in the school hallway, and all the threats he gave me. It was a long time ago, but it's not easy to forgive someone for treating you so poorly. Still, I could hear the sincerity in his voice. As a counselor, I knew that it wasn't healthy to carry around ill feelings for another person, and that you should forgive them when they give you an honest apology. At least, that's what I was trained to tell my patients... so I should practice what I preach.

"Thank you, Chris," I said. "That was very mature of you to say."

It was time for me to call Daphne just as our busty server brought out our burgers. I hit the speed dial and she answered on the second ring.

"Hi Mom," Daphne said.

I held back a laugh and said, "So, you're ready to get the hell out of there, huh?"

"Yes, I'm sitting down," she answered.

In a breathy feminine voice, I said, "You always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop, don't you Daphne?"

Hobbs looked at me like I was nuts as he chewed his food.

Daphne gasped. "Oh my God, is Daddy gonna be okay?"

"So come up to the lab and see what's on the slab. I see you shiver with antici... pation," I said in a British accent.

"What hospital?" she asked, clearly faking tears.

I said dramatically, "Don't fuck with me fellas! This ain't my first time at the rodeo."

"Okay, I'll be right there," Daphne said before hanging up.

I laughed as I put my phone back in my pocket. I looked at Hobbs as I picked up my burger. "It's always more fun to try to make her laugh during the call."

**Brian's POV**

After dinner, I got my cell phone from the evening floor supervisor, an old bitch named Marcy, and took it to my room to charge it. After plugging the phone into the outlet next to my dresser, I saw that I had a few missed calls from the office, along with a voice mail left that afternoon by Cynthia to call her back. Before leaving the Pitts, I gave everyone strict instructions that I was only to be bothered while I was "in Ibiza" for emergency purposes only.

Knowing that she normally would be home from work by this time of the day, I called Cynthia on her cell phone. After the first ring, she frantically answered, "Brian! Thank God!"

"What happened, Cynthia?" I asked. "Did Starbucks stop making that Cinnamon Dolce Latte you love so much?"

She huffed out a breath and said, "No, although if they did, it would be a fucking tragedy. It's worse than that: Trevor Johnson was arrested early this morning."

I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing that she was referring to the "face of" one of our most lucrative campaigns, a menswear fashion label run by a conservative man named Ronald Carter. Trevor was the star of a very popular network TV drama and was regularly featured on the covers of celebrity magazines. Signing a squeaky-clean breeder like Trevor on to endorse the line was the only reason I was able to obtain the account.

"Arrested for what?" I asked Cynthia with gritted teeth.

"Well, for some time the FBI has been planning a sting operation on a whore house somewhere in Hollywood-"

"Don't tell me he was there when the FBI raided the joint," I pleaded.

"Afraid so, boss. Mr. Carter himself called this afternoon, demanding that we find someone else for the campaign, ASAP."

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled, kicking the trash can beside me across the room with my bare foot. I took a few calming breaths, trying to ignore the throbbing in my big toe, and asked, "Did you tell Carter that I'm on vacation?"

"Of course I did, and he said that it wasn't his problem. He's giving us until Monday to find someone to replace Trevor."

I shook my head, knowing that it was an impossible request. "I won't be back until Monday after next."

"I know that Brian, but you're just gonna have to cut your little holiday short. You know how much that campaign is worth to Kinnetik. It will really hurt us if Carter takes his business elsewhere... like Vangard."

Before I could respond, Melanie came barging into the room. "What the fuck was that noise?" I could see a few of the others gawking in the hall behind her.

"Hold on," I said to Cynthia. I put the phone against my chest and said to Mel, "There's a crisis back home with my company, and I took it out on the trash can."

Mel looked down and saw the dented metal can. "Just don't take it out on any of my stuff," she requested before walking out and closing the door behind her.

I put the phone back to my ear. "Cynthia, I can't leave-"

"Was that a woman's voice I heard?" she asked.

"Uh..." I said, thinking. "Just some lesbian at this party I'm at, wondering why I yelled."

"Oh. Well, you need to get back here; Spain will still be there, but Carter won't be if you don't bring your ass home."

I grimaced, and decided to do exactly what I had hoped I wouldn't have to do. "Cynthia... I'm not in Spain."