Chapter 37 - The Big Launch.
Justin and Daphne spent the rest of the evening patiently walking Brian through how a C-Section worked. Daphne even showed him a very non-icky animated video that explained all the steps. It didn't look so bad on the video. Justin assured him that, most of the time, the parent was awake through the whole procedure - the doctor would just give him a local anesthetic - and that Justin could be there with him. Brian still wasn't completely reassured, but he was starting to be able to wrap his brain around the idea.
Luckily, just when Daphne's descriptions were starting to get too graphic for Brian's taste, Cynthia called him with several questions about the big CK launch party. Brian gratefully immersed himself in work so he could stop thinking about doctors and hospitals and blood. It was much easier to plan a critically important advertising campaign launch, supervise dozens of staff members, deal with the assorted problems and snafus that inevitably came up at the last minute and juggle around the millions of other details all that entailed than think about his own future.
Tomorrow, the Calvin Klein ad campaign he'd been working on for weeks would be launched nationwide in magazines and television spots. Then, tomorrow night, the agency was throwing a big party here in Pittsburgh to celebrate and market the new campaign. Brian and Ryder were taking a big risk by hosting the party in provincial Pittsburgh rather than New York or Los Angeles. But it was all part of the plan to get their little agency on the map in the world of fashion advertising. They wanted people to associate Pittsburgh with their ads. So, throwing a big, blowout party in the otherwise sleepy little burgh, was exactly what their strategy called for.
Brian actually ended up going back into the office and didn't get home that night till after 3:00 am. Then, the next morning, he was back up at nine, and on the phone by 9:15. With Cynthia assisting by doing her usual, beyond-spectacular job, everything was ready to go by mid-afternoon, and Brian made it back home in time to get in a quick 'nap' with Justin before they had to get ready for the party.
The launch party was being held at the elegant Fairmont Hotel in the heart of downtown Pittsburgh. There were events scheduled throughout the evening and most of the night, mostly focused in the large main ballroom, but with peripheral activities spread throughout the entire hotel. Between the out-of-town corporate executives, guest fashionistas from all the major fashion capitals of the world, reporters and fashion critics and everyone else involved, the Ryder event had booked up pretty much the entire hotel. It was set to be quite the event.
One of the little perks for Brian was that he got to invite all of his friends and family to party for the night on CK's dollar. He was looking forward to showing off a little in front of the gang. They all knew what he did for a living, but it was rare that any of them actually got a first hand glimpse of what Brian actually DID. He wouldn't mind if Mikey and the crew were a bit impressed with all the hoopla and the celebrities. Maybe they'd all finally give him a bit more credit the next time they set about judging him for something after they'd seen exactly what it was he could accomplish.
With all that pressure on him, even the unrufflable Brian Kinney was understandably a little nervous as he was getting ready for the party. In deference to his clients, Brian was wearing a classically cut 2-piece Linen Calvin Klein suit in a beautiful dove grey, with matching dove grey silk shirt and tie. He'd chosen the grey specifically, knowing that he'd be sure to stand out in the sea of black outfits that were most likely to show up this evening. Stitch had just finished with the final alterations to the suit that morning.
Brian, of course, looked dazzlingly handsome, but he was fidgeting around being super-critical of everything the entire time he and Justin were getting dressed. Justin was ready to kill him around about the third time Brian asked for reassurances that he didn't look 'fat'. He repeatedly informed his antsy companion that, not only did Brian NOT look fat, but as long as he kept the beautifully tailored jacket fastened, he didn't even look pregnant. Brian's plan was to stand perfectly poised most of the night, preferably not dancing or he'd get too hot and sweaty. This was the last big appearance he'd have to get through while trying to hide his secret. After tonight, they'd start to put B4 into effect and then . . . He just had to concentrate on getting through tonight.
Since he was hosting this gala event, Brian didn't get the option of showing up fashionably late this evening. The car service arrived promptly at 6:00 pm and ferried the Ad Exec and his 'date' for the evening - a HUGE concession Justin had won by simply refusing to help with the plans until Brian conceded that the night qualified as an official 'date' - to the Fairmont in good time. Brian oversaw the last of the preparations and then went up to the hospitality suite set aside for welcoming the most important of the guests.
To the credit of the Ryder Agency, and especially Brian Kinney, the event was a magnificent success. Considering the locale, the turnout was fantastic. There were big names from the fashion industry, minor celebrities galore, at least one borderline 'big' celebrity from New York and all the industry reporters and critics and other contacts you could want. And it was all going just like clockwork.
After the bigwigs were welcomed, wined and dined in the elaborately decked out hotel suite, the entire assembly was shown downstairs to the ball room, where the party itself was already underway. There was more alcohol being served, hunky topless waiters passing around hors d'oeuvres and trendy, up beat music. It was a great, diverse crowd - for Pittsburgh at least - and everybody was dressed to impress. Then the real show started.
Set throughout the ball room and even out into the hallway, there were several small, platform-type stages that had been stationed in highly visible spots. The contents of each stage were screened off by a tall silky-gold curtain held up by a circular brass curtain rod which was hung by wires linked to the ceiling. Starting at 9:00 pm, every twenty minutes or so, the background music would become hushed and an announcer would introduce one of the models that Brian had selected for this special campaign. As the man was introduced, one of the curtains would slowly descend, highlighted by a bright spotlight, revealing a slightly opaque paper surround decorated with pictures of that man in his everyday life - the doctor in his operating room, the policeman in his uniform, etc. Then, at the conclusion of each introduction, the lighting would shift and, instead of lights being shown on the outside illuminating the pictures on the surround, new lighting would turn on illuminating the stage from the inside, revealing the shadow of the man himself on the small stage. Finally, to a triumphant burst of music along with cheers and applause from the crowd, each man would break out of his everyday paper image and emerge in his Calvin Klein model persona - each dressed, or undressed in the case of the underwear models, in his designer best.
Each tableau was dramatic and expertly executed. It was perfect. Everyone loved the theatrical revelations. The already gorgeous men were all transformed from their less spectacular daily lives into the most beautiful models everyone had ever seen by the magical touch of Brian Kinney. It was a total triumph.
Brian was swamped by crowds of fawning, congratulatory people. Even those in the know like Ryder, who already knew what to expect, were impressed by the actual show. Cynthia followed her boss around with her tablet computer and made sure he always knew everyone's name and position so Brian could always greet each admirer by name. Then, after they finished fawning, she'd carefully note down contact info for everyone they'd be approaching later with other ad proposals. They made a great team.
Most of the night, Justin stood off to the side, hanging out with his and Brian's friends and admiring Brian from afar. Justin loved how masterfully Brian controlled everyone around him. It was . . . Erotic. He had big plans for how he would show his own appreciation to Brian later that night in the hotel suite reserved for them upstairs.
The gang had all shown up at the big event. Debbie and Vic came together, Debbie in a tastefully restrained (for her) long red sequined gown and Vic in a new suit, both courtesy of Brian. Michael had come with Dr. Dave as his escort. Mel and Lindsey had left Gus at home with a sitter, reserved a room for the night - which Brian had already secretly paid for - and were enjoying their 'adult time' immensely. Ted and Emmett were also there, spending most of their time getting to know the hot waiters and, whenever possible, the even hotter models. Even Jennifer Taylor and Daphne Chanders had been invited. Everyone was awed by Brian - seeing him, as it were, in his natural environment for the first time.
"Isn't this just amazing," Debbie was saying for the thousandth time as she watched Brian expertly working his way through the crowds. "I had no idea Brian knew all these important people. It's just like being in Hollywood, with the stars, or some shit!"
"This is definitely impressive for a place like the Pitts," Emmett agreed as he ogled another shirtless waiter who served him a shrimp ball.
"Who knew there were this many model-worthy guys in Our Fair City," Ted agreed as one of the CK campaign models walked past.
"Brian did, of course," Michael added, proud as always of his Best Friend's intimate knowledge of the city's male population.
"Do you think he's fucked ALL of them?" Mel snarled from behind her fouth martini. "Maybe that was one of the criteria for landing the job." The entire group, except for Justin, laughed along at the demeaning comment.
"Fuck you, Mel," Justin could no longer hold back his rebuke. "None of you guys have any clue how hard Brian's worked to get this all together, do you? You don't know how difficult it's been for him, how exhausted he is, especially with everything else going on right now. Can't you just be a little proud for him? Show him an iota of respect? Why do you always have to cut him down in the next breath after you give him any grudging credit? Fuck it!" Justin turned and started to walk away in disgust. "I don't think any of you will EVER get it!"
Justin stomped off in a piqué. "Jeez, I was just kidding," Mel said in conciliation.
"You know," Michael inserted into the embarrassed lull in the conversation, "Brian really has been looking tired lately. He does look exhausted. And . . . Well, I hate to say this, but . . . Do you guys think Brian's been . . . putting on some weight?"
The gang proceeded to a discussion of how Brian's trips to the gym had tapered off lately. There was also a full, detailed accounting of how many visits he'd made - or not made - to Babylon or the Baths in the past month. Nobody was paying any further attention to Brian's huge advertising triumph as they all weighed in on his personal life.
That was when the bells and whistles started to go off in David Cameron's brain. As soon as Brian's weight was mentioned, it all became perfectly clear! David started to remember back to that time, months ago, when Brian had experienced those horrible cramps at Deb's dinner. Then he recalled Michael's descriptions of Brian puking his guts out for several days, the snippets of conversation he'd overheard, the time he'd been face-on with Brian's oddly extended gut and then Justin's touching caress of Brian's midsection. Brian and Justin's JOINT trips to the doctor's office now made sense. So did Justin's adamant assertions that HE wasn't pregnant.
The only thing that had misled David was the absolute knowledge that Brian Kinney was a complete and total TOP. Everyone KNEW Brian never bottomed. It was part and parcel of the legend of Brian Kinney. It was so well known that nobody ever even doubted that fact anymore.
But . . . What if . . . What if Brian WASN'T an EXCLUSIVE top? What if he'd let Justin . . . No! That couldn't be! Little Justin? The cute little blond boy toy? No fucking way . . . But, then, why did Brian do a complete 180 and let the boy move in with him. Why had they seemed practically inseparable lately. Why had Justin kept talking about all the stress Brian was in LATELY . . . It just couldn't be . . . But . . .
David looked up at the main stage at the back of the ballroom. The last model had just been introduced and, as he was walking down the steps of his little private stage, the lights on the big stage came up. All the previously introduced models were posed on the big stage. As the last model approached and assumed his position, the music reached a crescendo and the announcer blared, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly introduced to you, the Calvin Klein Mens' Fall line!"
The crowd was going wild, clapping and yelling enthusiastically at the beautiful panoply of gorgeous men in beautiful designer clothes. The spotlights were zooming around the stage, occasionally pausing on one individual. Everything was impeccably displayed. It was perfect. The critics were internally raving and already planning their overwhelmingly appreciative reviews.
After several minutes of applause, Brian Kinney, tonight's triumphant host, emerged from the wings of the stage. He waved and smiled at the crowd. He beamed and applauded his models and then invited Ryder and the CK executives to join him on stage. Finally, Brian reached down into the crowd of people lining the stage, grasped Justin Taylor's hand and pulled the boy up onto the stage by his side. Justin was beaming his Sunshine smile at the public, totally enraptured by Brian's unaccustomed public display of affection. The young man stared lovingly up at the taller brunet whose arm went instinctively around his shoulders and then, made a completely unconscious gesture that was utterly obvious if you knew what to look for.
Justin reached out his left hand and, in front of hundreds of people, including Dr. David Cameron, the only person there who suspected the truth, gently caressed Brian Kinney's stomach, briefly molding the folds of the camouflaging jacket around a distictively rounded belly.
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