IN OR OUT: BOOK II: CHAPTER 1

MICHAEL

After the morning from hell, I am so glad to see him! After my talk with Ma yesterday, I figured that Brian needed a cooling off period. So I refrained from calling him a million times. God, that was so hard! Anyway, I dropped by to see Ma this morning at the Diner, asking if she’d had a chance to talk to Ben. When she said that she never caught up to him after leaving me, I asked for her advice on how to handle this whole thing with him. I’m not so stupid that I don’t realize that I have to keep him around for various reasons, but last week’s fiasco gave me another good reason to do so.

You see, whenever I speak my mind and my meaning is misunderstood by others, Ben is the one who they will listen to. He always starts out with “I think what Michael means…” or “I’m sure Michael didn’t mean it as bad as it sounded…” See, between him, Ma, and Brian, I get to be as nastily honest to Blake and Justin as I want, knowing that they will excuse and justify it for me. Ted does it now too. So see? I need him to keep the Twinks-Who-Are All- Bubble- Butts- And-No-Brains in line. Last week at the restaurant was a prime example of that.  

They were discussing business at the dinner table, which was a topic that was way over my head. So I casually mentioned that we would have been better off staying in P-Town among the men; that it was far more pleasant than listening to the Bubble Gum Twins going on about some fucking business venture that Brian and Ted would most assuredly be footing the bill for. Then I asked how many blowjobs were they willing to give for an open checkbook, and was it limited to just their partners, or did it include other people, like Dr. Crystal and Ethan. It was a simple joke but Twink Boy Blake didn’t see the humor in me offering the number of  David’s friend, who’s an orthopedist. Surely, his poor knees would have been taking a beating from the amount of cash he and Justin were talking.  I mean, come on! No one could possibly be fooled into thinking that all those drugs he consumed were given out of the kindness of Tino and the Doc’s ‘good’ heart or that he actually had the money to pay. I can’t understand what was so bad about reminding him of his time out there. I mean, he must have liked doing it, since he kept going back for more drugs, right?

As for Blond Boy Ass, Justin really kills me playing the self-righteous card, when he’s done more drugs and recreational fucking without Brian than they ever did together. Just because I didn’t use the backroom at Babylon to fuck all that often, didn’t mean that I haven’t seen him in action a time or seven hundred. He’s a fucking slut and I called him on it, yet again. But instead of backing me up, my friends remained silent until one of them- I’m not sure which one- told me that I was jealous because no one like their dick gnawed to sawdust. I mean, so what I grind my teeth but I hardly ever do it when I’m awake. That’s when I found out that the guy I almost cheated on David with, whom I actually fucked when I first came back to Pittsburgh from Portland, told Blond Boy Ass that he would have gotten more pleasure dry-humping Tanis from the GLC than he did from fucking me. I probably would have just laughed it off, except that the guy and his lover were in the restaurant and confirmed what Blond Boy Ass was told.

Anyway, do you know what Ma had the nerve to say to me this morning? That she refuses to talk some sense into Ben on my behalf, since it would cost her everything she held dear. I should be the ONLY one who fits that bill! So I ordered her to do so and told her that she owed it to me. Well Step-Dick aka Carl, told me that they both agreed that it was time for me to grow up and own my shit for once. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Of course I own my shit. Hell it comes out whenever I go to use the bathroom and feel the urge, so what they said makes no sense! I started to tell her that but she just gave me a kiss on the cheek, told me to pack plenty of sunscreen and shoved me out of the door. What the hell?! I think the world has gone mad. It’s a poor day when a mother abandons her son’s cause because of the outsider she’s newly married to.

Then when I got to this godforsaken zoo, otherwise known as Pittsburgh International Airport, everything just seemed to collapse in on itself. I went to the airline Ben and I usually fly, only to be told they don’t have a reservation under the Novotny-Bruckner name. After arguing with the broad at the counter for almost twenty minutes, her manager came out to inform me of two things: a) if I didn’t stop yelling they would be happy to call security and see me banned from the airport in general and b) their airline didn’t fly to the destination. He finally suggested that I go to customer service after being extremely unhelpful. I only told him that the bitch behind the counter deserved a write-up for not telling me that shit in the first place. After all, I’m a customer and should have been told that I was right and have the call made to customer service on my behalf, instead of having to go back into the sea of humanity rushing to and fro to find their own flights.

Well apparently, the cunty manager called down to customer service, ahead of my arrival there. First to lodge a complaint against me and then confirmed that I was on my way there. The security jackasses were standing there waiting for me and made me sign some form telling them that I am aware of the complaint and one more wrong move, I would be banned for a period of one-year. After another significant delay, I was finally pointed to the Liberty Air terminal, which lo and be-fucking-hold was on the other side of the damn building. When I asked if I could get a ride down there and confirmed that I was not disabled, they told me I could have the service for a hundred dollars. For some fucking reason, they split that bullshit fee between the airport and the airline and since it’s in a contract, it can’t be broken. Well I figured, fuck that, I would walk. It was one of those times in my life that I wish I had thought to go to the bank instead of going to see my mother this morning.

Anyway to make matters fucking worse, during the walk to the fucking boondocks, I got a call from Ben’s attorney, whom I also use on occasion. That fucking brain-damaged twink Justin is still trying to force me to give up my rights to Rage. He can suck eighteen dicks and choke on them all and I still wouldn’t let him buy me out. Besides, I can’t. That’s partially Ben’s decision since I put the store in his name and I haven’t told him all the details about this situation yet. In fact, I have no intention of telling him about this latest offer. He’ll just make me do what Justin wants. The fucked up thing is, I know that Ben has the money to buy Justin out, but he won’t do it. He said that giving me sole control of the comic would have me fucking it up and making it as valuable as used toilet paper. His statement made me want to kill off JT and Ken in real life, instead of just within the pages. I still cannot believe that he has been siding with Justin so far, in terms of the storyline. Why can’t they all see that just like in Real Life, Zephyr and Rage belong together?! It’s really beginning to piss me off!

Barry is making his way over to me to straighten out this idiot, who won’t let me into the lounge. It’s about time someone did what they were supposed to do this morning, which is to take care of things on my behalf.

“Good Morning, Michael. Problem?”

“Plenty of them! First, I don’t know what kind of special idiots they have working at the airport these days but everyone of them need to either go in for sensitivity training or get fired! I have been looking everywhere for you guys,” I complain.

“I don’t see why you were having such a problem. I sent you a text, at Ben’s request, telling you where we would be, how to get here and when you would be expected.”

“I didn’t receive any message!” I state indignantly, while pulling my cell phone out. I’m stunned when I read: Message 7:35 am. Good Morning Michael. We will be at the Liberty Air Terminal, for flight 146 leaving today at noon. Please tell the attendant at the counter that you are here with the contingent bound for Seascape and they will show you to the lounge. Hopefully you will make it; I think the trip will do you and Ben some good. In the meantime, hope things are well with you. Take Care, Barry… “This doesn’t mean anything! You could have, and should have called to confirm that I received your message.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Michael, but I thought I was dealing with a fully functional adult who is perfectly capable of making his own decisions and tending to his own affairs. Well at least that’s the hope anyway,” he tells me, nodding his head at the snickering attendant. “Why don’t you come in and get yourself situated. Perhaps get a drink to calm your frayed nerves before our flight is called, which should happen in about fifteen minutes or so. Has your luggage already been checked in?”

I narrow my eyes at him, knowing there was an insult in there somewhere, but his tone sounds so reasonable that I’m not sure where it is. I roll my eyes again. “Yeah my luggage has been checked in. Has Ben… BRIAN! BRIIIAAANNNNNN!!!” Just the fucking person I need to see! I rush over to him. “Hey, I didn’t know you would be here. Where are you going? How come you haven’t called me to apologize yet? I waited all night for you to come to your senses! So why haven’t you called?” I stand there waiting impatiently, with folded arms and tapping my foot so he knows I mean business. He owes me a fucking explanation and I fully intend to get it!

“Apolo…. Michael, you weren’t, and still aren’t, high on my list of priorities. And as I recall, you barged into my loft, uninvited and being your usual demanding self. From where I stand, I’m not the one who should be dishing out apologies but whatever…”

“So you’re... that’s it? You’re not going to apologize for threatening me?”

“No.”

“Well why not?!” I can feel my temper beginning to spiral out of control. And after the morning I’ve had, it’s not going to be long before I explode.

“Because. I. Meant. Every. Fucking. Word. Michael. See? No need for me to apologize after all, now is there?” He tells me before walking away to whisper something to Alex, and to that fucking blond asshole, who is smirking. That’s another person I need to address this morning, so I follow him across the lounge. “You just can’t help yourself, can you Justin?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs loudly, looking as if he would rather be anywhere but talking to me. Well too fucking bad! He and I are going to have this out, right now. I’ve never wanted to hit anyone so badly in my life as much as I do this little arrogant puppy!

“Good morning to you too, Michael. Or at least it was. Look, I’ll make this brief, as mine and Brian’s names are about to be called to board. I have made my final offer before this goes to court.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘your final offer?’ I thought I made myself clear that I was not going to let you buy me out of my own fucking comic!”

“The offer is very generous; more than you deserve actually.”

“It was mine! My dream, my idea, my…”

“Your vision of what you think mine and Brian’s lives were really about?” He sounds exasperated, before he narrows his eyes at me. “Let’s get one thing straight, Michael… Rage and all its storylines are loosely based on mine and Brian’s life together. You couldn’t come up with an original thought, let alone a plausible plot, if it came up and bit you on those marbles you call balls. So here’s the thing… you can sign over the rights and I pay you for them or…”

“Or?”

“Or I can sue you for the rights, which I will win, and I will also file a claim of defamation, which I probably won’t win, but it will make people think twice about working with you ever again in the comic business. Honestly, that’s pretty much how they already feel about working with you now, but there may be some newbie schmuck out there that would still be willing.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Actually I can, since I’m the other owner of the comic. I think twenty-five grand to never have to work with you again would be well spent. Otherwise, the comic goes to waste, and while I’m still running my various businesses, you will only be running Red Cape… into the ground. Which, without Rage, is exactly what’s happening anyway. Selling the rights to Rage to me will at least keep you afloat until you can work out a new business plan to possibly keep the store open for a while longer.”

I hate the smug look he has on his face when speaking about the real situation with my store. I mean sure, I sell things other than Rage. But it’s nothing compared to the sales are when a new issue comes out.

“Brian, you’re just going to stand there and let this happen?”

“The business regarding the comic is strictly between you and Justin. Besides, I can’t exactly understand why don’t want to sell it to him. It’s an automatic profit in your favor.”

“What do you mean, Brian? You know that this has always been my dream. You’re just going to let him steal it from me?”

“He’s not stealing anything from you; he’s offering you a monetary band-aid for your failing business. Maintaining Red Cape Comics is bleeding your husband dry. It’s also not turning a large enough profit to entice anyone to want to partner or invest in it. Basically, it’s a money pit and you’re about to sink, not only yourself, but Ben too. I think you owe it to him to take Justin’s offer seriously, sell the store and walk away debt-free. Not doing so is going to cost Ben more than he can afford and something will have to go.”

“The human noose around his neck, for example,” Justin cuts in, and I realize he’s talking about me.  The nerve of that fucking little upstart!

“Brian, if the money situation with Ben is all that bad, which I don’t think it is, why can’t you just gift me the money to run the store?”

“Gift?”

“Yeah. I know we’ve tried loans before but… I mean… well, you have money. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t have been looked at as a gift from the onset instead of a business deal. I mean, we’re best friends, right? And as such, you should want to do whatever it takes to help me out of a jam.”

“Wow! I didn’t think that true friendship came with a price tag. Brian, I think you should redefine your definition, because it seems to me that although you’re a true friend to Michael, bailing his ass out every time his hobby cost more than he can afford, he doesn’t consider you important enough to keep his word to pay back the loans.”

“Shut the hell up, Justin. Mine and Brian’s relationship has absolutely nothing to do with you!” I scream at him and go even angrier when he just laughs at me.

“Apparently, it doesn’t have anything to do with Brian either, just his hard-earned bank account. Do yourself a favor, Michael… take the money, sell Red Cape, and pay Brian and your husband back before you find yourself not only broke, but broken. I don’t think that Ben is appreciating the fact that you have your head so far up Brian’s ass that he can’t even shit you out, while you are neglecting your own husband and his needs, including having a secure place to live and the way to pay for it. Now as far as I’m concerned, I’ll be expecting the contract signed and this deal completed before the end of the week. Or you can save me the trouble of waiting and I’ll have my attorney issue the court summons by Friday at noon.”

“Shows what you know… I won’t even be in town on Friday,” I tell him smugly.

“Yes I know. But I also know that as long as you’re served with the papers, the summons will still be valid. Since I’ll know where you are, there’s no need to worry about getting the paperwork to you. In the meantime, you might want to talk your decision over with Ben.”

“Why? He has nothing to do with this!”

“Well unless you plan to become an adult for once and pay your own bills for that dust trap you call a store, then his money will be paying it. I think you owe it to him to discuss the matter of selling the rights to Rage. I’m sure that twenty-five grand would help him out tremendously, as it will be the difference between having a mortgage for your house, or having insurmountable debt and being homeless. Your choice.”

Justin walks away leaving me with Brian. I hate the way my best friend watches his every move as if he’s afraid to look away. This shit has got to stop! “Brian, you forgot to answer my question about where you’re going.”

He shakes his head before looking at me. “I didn’t forget; I simply didn’t see a reason to tell you. I would suggest you take Justin seriously, Michael. He isn’t playing around about this. But I want you to answer me this, and really think about what it is you’re demanding of me. If you had money and I wanted it for something, would you just ‘gift’ it to me, never expecting anything in return?”

“Brian, be serious! If I had money I would invest it in collectibles and the things I wanted, not just give it away. That would be stupid.” I roll my eyes at the absurdity of his question.

“That’s what I thought.” Brian answered, as he looked away, still sniffing after that piece of blond boy ass.

Why would he even ask me something like that? Of course I wouldn’t lend my money out like that. But I’m not Brian; he’s always taken care of me. Besides, I have too many things I could spend my money on, like the comic con coming up in another three months. That’s another reason I won’t sell my share of Rage to Justin. They specifically requested him as the creator of Rage. If I sell it to him, I won’t be able to force my way in and be acknowledged as the person who also created the comic. I mean, so what if he did most of the work required to make the comic the graphic novel that it is while I rewrote story lines based on personal observations. My contribution was just as important! Anyway, I won’t expect any less of Brian, he should be putting my needs before his own to get fucked regularly during this situation, regardless that it’s his steady fuck-of-convenience named Justin Taylor that’s causing the problem. He owes ME his loyalty, not his trick du jour, and that loyalty better extend to his bank account. But back to the matter at hand, which is getting Justin off my back with Brian’s help...

“Yeah well, so you won’t let him do this to me, right? After all, you owe me for all the times I was there for you, even when you were in the wrong.”

“And when was that? When was I wrong as you saw it, hmm?”

I’m not going to back down from this. So since he wants an example, I’ll happily supply him with one. “Like with Kip Thomas all those years ago.”

“If I recall, all you did was buy some junk food and come over to my place to smoke up my primo weed. Let’s not forget that you had to sneak out from your jailor, lie on your mother about her being sick to said jailor, and then berate me for fucking him in the first place.”

“Yeah, well that’s more than what Justin did for you.”

“And that is where you are wrong, Michael. Just having Justin being there, believing in me and my innocence was more than you have ever done for me! I have to wonder though… was it that I fucked Kip in the first place or was it that my job, and therefore my money, was on the line because he was a weasel, that had you the most upset?” I couldn’t answer, and so Brian took that to mean that he knew what the answer was. “Thought so… well, it doesn’t matter now. And the fact that Kip was proven a liar, who had tried the same shit before with a former employer which resulted in him being terminated from his job prior to working for Ryder, also doesn’t matter now.” He shrugs as if my presence during that whole mess meant nothing to him. But I can feel the urge to lash out as he continues to speak. “What does matter is that it’s time for you to solve your own fucking problems with Ben and Justin. I’m out of it, and for the last time, I’m not giving you any money- not as a gift nor as a loan! You can’t be trusted with money and you’re a bad credit risk. As for my own situation with Justin, with any luck I’ll be able to finally show Justin how much I appreciate him, then and now; and with any luck, he’ll finally let me. You should probably try that with your husband before he takes your silence as a sign that you don’t want him around anymore. Then where will you be?”

He leaves me rooted to the spot while I watch, filled with anger and envy, as he joins Justin. I really have to find a way to separate the two of them. And the sooner the better!