STAYING OR GOING: BOOK II: CHAPTER 6: WISEST COURSE OF ACTION Part 2: INFORMED DECISIONS

BRIAN:

Alex called and requested our presence here at the Pelican Restaurant. At first, Justin and I were confused about it, but figured it couldn’t hurt to see him tonight. We made love- there’s really no other way to put it- after I heard the soundbyte Drew sent. To say that I was knocked off kilter would be a vast understatement. It’s hard when you realize that you’ve unknowingly traded one form of abuse for another. It does something to your insides, both mentally and emotionally; it makes you second guess every choice you’ve ever made. And yet, even in this, I know that finally letting myself choose Justin, finally acknowledging that he chose me over and over again since that very first night, helps to restore my faith in myself.

Justin heals me in ways that cannot be explained in mere words. It’s fundamental, and elemental, as if he has always on some bone-deep level been a part of me. I still can’t believe how close I’d come, or in some ways still am so close, to losing it. But I’m learning how not to, one step at a time, I suppose. In a lot of ways, it’s applying the basic laws of common sense: Whatever caused you to fall and almost break your head the first time, don’t do that shit again. But where relationships are concerned, when has common sense ever been common? I smirk at the question, and then at Justin.

“Stop it.”

“What? I’m not doing anything.”

“Like hell you aren’t,” he snorts. “You’re over there thinking of philosophical bullshit that you’re about to spout just to annoy me.”

“We’ve had enough hypothetical conversations and suppositions that you would know, huh?” I laugh when he rolls his eyes at me.

“Brian, my entire trip to New York was based on the hypothetical and suppositions…”

“But those became a bonafide reality, didn’t they?” I ask, rhetorically. “I mean, you became a big fat fucking success.”

“I was that when I came back to the Pitts from L.A., but didn’t yet realize how much I was. The manifestation of it, happened in New York.”

“So do you think if you’d stayed there, you would have still seen how big of a name you had become?”

“You know, I really hate it when you do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pose questions that are completely suppositional and have no basis in reality.”

I laugh harder. “And that was your exact response when we decided you would go to New York.”

“Just kiss me and shut the hell up already!” Justin orders me, and who am I to deny the request given so sweetly. I can’t help it… I love aggravating this man of mine, especially when he’s still coming down off of our shared euphoric highs. He whispers against my lips, “You’re going to pay for that later.”

“I’m counting on it,” I respond before seizing his lips again and plundering his mouth.

We’re just about to get to the point where Justin’s about to start climbing me, when we’re interrupted by several nuisances, clearing their throats to get our attention.

“Nice to see you boys are being true to form,” Emmett says as he fans himself.”

“True to form would have had Justin naked and spread-eagled on top of the table. Tell you what… go back out, wait fifteen seconds and then come back in for the demonstration,” I suggest, only to be hit lightly in the chest by my blushing husband.

“Brian, behave!” He tells me.

“I am.”

“Nice to see you all,” he tells the assembling group, pointedly ignoring me. I can’t help but grin impishly.

Depending on where we are when we’re caught having sex, or nearly so in cases such as this, Justin has a tendency to display perfect manners in an effort to deflect the fact that we were getting ready to fuck. I’ve told him a million times that it doesn’t work, but he never listens. Or if he does, it must be that he just can’t help himself. The only time his mannerisms ever really bothered him was when he’d caught Jennifer and Tuck in the same situation and she pulled a Miss Manners on us, while blushing and straightening out her blouse. No prizes for guessing how that evening had gone. Can you shout AWKWARD?! Thankfully among the guys, there won’t be any of that.

I look around the table at everyone assembled and state the obvious. “Looks like we’re missing someone.”

“No, he’s not missing. He isn’t coming, Brian,” Alex informs me, and I’m glad that I wasn’t the only one with the look and sigh of relief. Well until my eyes land on Ben again.

“Sorry, Ben,” I utter, but he brushes it off.

“Don’t be. I can guarantee you that none of you are more relieved than I am that Michael won’t be here. Besides, I’m sure that after tomorrow, he’ll want to be around me even less.”

“Why?” Justin asks. “I thought the whole point of this trip was to actually spend time fixing our relationships.”

“That’s true, to a degree, Justin,” Barry answers. “But one has to actually want the relationship to be fixed. In Michael’s case, he doesn’t even acknowledge that anything’s broken.”

“Or in my case was  broken,” Ben says, before he takes a deep breath. “I’ve decided to spend this trip fixing me. And part of doing that is realizing that the thing which has broken me the most is Michael. So our marriage, such as it was, is over. My attorney is executing the papers I had drawn up four years ago, but never acted upon. His possessions- the ones he paid for prior to our folly of a union- should be on their way to his mother’s house, while the rest that he acquired using money I gave him for the store, are on the way to Jennifer’s. I’m giving Michael eight grand, which was his initial investment for the purchase of the store…”

“Wait! I thought the initial downpayment of Buzzy’s was fifteen grand. It’s a little less than what the special edition of Captain Astro was sold for on Ebay and Michael was getting the store at a discounted rate because it hadn't officially gone on the market,” I say, remembering it well.

I always thought that the terms and conditions of the sale on the comic store was a little strange, especially since it was all vintage comics. But it turns out that the reason Buzzy was so ready to get rid of it was because he was sick, and moving to Florida at the behest of his brother so that he wouldn't be alone during his treatments for breast cancer. I just remember being shocked that men could get it, too.

“That’s what he would have you all believe, but the receipt actually read eight thousand, including all contents, with a contract between Buzzy's brother, Bear."

"You're kidding us, right? No way any self-respecting parents did that to their kids," Ted snickers.

"You would be surprised at what people named their kids when tripping on bud, and acid," I snickered at Ted's reaction to the hippy era. He grew up sheltered within the Jewish Community so it would stand to reason that he'd never been exposed to the fun side of the sixties. I wasn't either since I wasn't born, but I listened to Jack go on and on about them in my early twenties when he'd drink with his buddies at the Vets hall. It was one of the few good times I can honestly say I had with Jack...and that's all I'll think about that right now. "So what happened to the rest?"

Ben says, "The balance went to buying rare-to-find action figurines.”

“You mean he had money left over and could have paid his own rent on the store?!” Justin nearly yells. He’s clearly pissed off behind it and I don’t blame him. “Brian, Ted, and Emmett pooled their resources to pay six months worth of the fucking rent, utilities and insurance until Michael could get the store up and running!”

Ben nods. “Then I bought the store from Bear so that all that was left for Michael to pay was the property taxes and utilities. I borrowed the money against my pension to help Michael and explained that this was only supposed to be a business loan.”

“Wow, so you were giving him big bucks, too?” Emmett asks, and I’m beginning to see the pattern here. “Debbie asked for me to help Michael by lending him the money. She said she couldn’t do it because she’d just given Michael the money for the downpayment on your house…”

“None of which is true. She may have indeed given Michael money, but I never saw a penny of it. In fact, the day I closed on the house, Michael was in Vegas at the comic con there, saying he was asked to speak there.”

“No, he wasn’t. We were asked to speak there, but because I was in L.A. and on a deadline, I couldn’t take the time off to attend. Although Michael was invited as co-Creator, it wasn’t him or his opinion they were after; it was me. They wanted to hold a seminar for 3D drawing in comic creating, which Michael would have been sorely under-qualified to speak at since he wasn’t an artist in any form. To them, Michael was a reader, and an imitation of a writer, but he wasn’t the person who made the comic sell by the thousands in a relatively short time of being on the market.

"He called me bitching about having to pay for his own upgraded reservations and the entry fee to the conference since the ‘featured artist’ was unable to attend. I told him he should stop trying to railroad me into doing the things he wants done, and should ask before he makes any plans for me. Nevermind that I was in L.A. in the first place because he did it where Brett was concerned. I wasn’t about to let him keep getting away with it, or lying to everyone and making them think I was his puppet. Besides, I was busy building our brands on the West Coast as Kinnetik and JT Designs; I wasn't about to stop to satisfy Michael's overinflated ego.”

“So the store… what’s to become of it?” Ted asks, always looking at the financial picture.

“My attorney has been instructed to contact Jennifer. I want it offloaded before we leave here,” Ben answers, and I know that there is more to it. I don’t have to wait long to find out. “I don’t know yet if I’m going to return to Pittsburgh when we’re through here.”

“What do you mean, Professor?” I ask.

“I’m in the process of writing a book that I’m toying with self-publishing. Sure, I’m already with a publisher and am on a three-book deal. But I’m finding that I like the idea of doing this one on my own without the safety net of a major publishing house, who has the right to censor my words based on whether they think the book is sellable or not.”

“So why not do that then? Why not keep the store and turn it into your own publishing company?” Blake asks.

“I honestly hadn’t thought of that, but the idea has a lot of merit. But how would I go about it? I only know about the business from a writer’s standpoint,” Ben says.

“Well that’s the part where we would come in,” Justin offers. “A lot of it is about getting the word out and finding the right authors to sign with you. The last thing you want is a situation like the one between me and Michael, where you have one person reaping all the benefits of your hard work with little or no effort on their parts. It’s what the corporate heads of companies like New York’s Big 6 does. You want them to know that as an author yourself, you’re willing to work with them, to fight for them, and to help support their goals. Part of that is allowing them to keep the rights to their work, but as the printer and major distributor you retain a portion of the profits. It’s a win-win. Plus it will leave you time to work on your own projects,” Justin finishes with relish. Ben and everyone else, but me, looks stunned at Justin for coming up with the preliminary draw for Ben’s future campaign.

“What are the possible drawbacks?” Drew asks. And I can already see the wheels turning in his head. Now that he’s decided to retire, he’s looking for opportunities to invest. I wonder if he’s told Emmett yet.

“The only drawback that I can project so far is that since it’s a new company, you may want to offer a sign-on bonus temporarily. Maybe for the first fifty writers or so,” Ted tells us. “Of course, you’ll also want to get the interior of the building redone so that everything can be done in house.”

“Hm… I think you should talk to the guys who print Rage. Although they took over the publishing and printing business from the former owner, they have made it their own and is competing with the New York factions. They may very well want to go into partnership with you,” Justin suggests.

“Even with my former association with Michael?” Ben asks, surprised.

“Even then. In fact, quite possibly, because of it. You're now divorcing him, so it proves there’s hope for you.”

“Justin…” I say wearily, shaking my head.

“What? I was being nice, Brian. Besides, the fact that Ben’s last book was a bestseller will be a major draw. Of course, you still have to complete those other two books per your contract, but there’s nothing in it that says you can’t be ready to start, or in this case, work full-time within your own once it’s through. I take it that the new book is significantly different from ‘The Gift Giver’?”

“Vastly so. In fact, it’s semi-autobiographical. The second draft is just about done. I was going to submit it to my editor next week.”

It’s not hard to see how the light shines from Ben when he speaks about his new book. “Don’t give it to them, Ben. From the way you’re speaking about it, this could be the breakout project that puts your new company on the map. Do you have any other manuscripts you’ve been working on? Have you started the sequel to the Gift Giver yet?”

“Yes, I did. But I ended up putting it down to start writing on Seconds again after a long hiatus from it. It just felt like the right time to do it.”

“It was. But now I’m going to suggests you work on both of them as the mood suits you. And I’m also going to recommend that you take note of how you feel while writing them. I can guarantee that the work you do on “Seconds” will feel vastly different from the writing you do on the sequel.”

“Both are important to me. What makes you so sure?” He asks, and I can tell that he genuinely wants the answer from my point of view.

“It was the same way with me and Justin when we were starting our own businesses. Yes, the work we were doing for someone else’s projects- his with Brett Keller, and mine with Ryder and Vanguard- were important to us. But we only felt completely alive when we began to make our own dreams come true, as opposed to someone else’s. It makes a difference in how you work. Not just the steps you take, but the emotion behind every decision you make. It ignites your passion, and your drive to succeed.”

“That makes sense. I’ll do that, Brian. In business, I can honestly say that yours and Justin’s instincts haven’t steered you wrong.”

“And they won’t steer you wrong either. Do you know that Michael was the only one out of all of you to tell me that I was fucking nuts to start my own company? He told me that I would fail, and that I would drag Ted down with me; that he should just look for another accounting job with steady income instead of taking a chance on my hairbrained scheme.”

“I didn’t know he told you that!” Justin practically yells.

“It was during the… it was during the Cancer arc of our lives. There was so much that he said during that time frame, and what he didn’t say, his actions did,” I say quietly.

“Which brings us to the reason we asked you all here tonight,” Alex takes this opportunity to interject. “As most, if not all of you know, we were able to pull the transcripts of the messages that were left for you Brian, along with those for Ted and Emmett, during your time away. So, that said, I think the first thing that should be acknowledged is the need for apologies from you three.”

“We will, but why exactly?” Emmett asks.

“That’s what I’d been meaning to tell you earlier today, Emmett, but then this crap with Debbie happened. We were able to find out how Michael was able to keep you three from getting your calls, emails, and text messages while you were all in P-Town. He activated the ‘Do Not Disturb’ feature on your phones when you all weren’t paying attention.”

“But that’s crazy! Besides, I was able to call Drewsie. If the DND feature was activated, wouldn’t I have had to take it off to be able to?”

“Not at all. With Iphones, you can still make a call out, but all calls and notifications coming in are silenced automatically. That means that Justin was absolutely correct when he told all of you that they each were calling you, but were only receiving your voicemails after that first night. And that was only after Michael had told all of them to stop calling because you all were too busy partying to be bothered with your partners. I want you to really take in how you would have felt if a friend of Drew’s said that to you, and all you heard in the background was a bunch of men, and the thumpa-thumpa of a club.”

Emmett sat there as did Ted and I, as the picture that Duke painted once again became all too clear. Michael was deliberately sabotaging our relationships, but to what purpose? “Why the fuck would Michael do that?”

“I think I can answer that, Brian,” Ben says. “I can’t tell you how many times he’s said aloud that you all need new partners. I didn’t understand it when he said it, but I do now.”

“And?” I can’t help the sneer which escapes me. I’m too angry. I want to find Michael and kick his ass!

“The fact is that you all were so busy with your partners that you didn’t have time to keep Michael as the center of your respective universe. In Michael’s mind, as long as he was the one in a relationship, it still kept you all accessible to him whenever he wanted to come out and play. It didn’t help that in your case Brian, the person you chose to be with was so far removed from Michael that his deficiencies and insecurities where Justin is concerned were glaringly obvious. The same now goes for Blake, who Michael just thinks of as an addict who’s taking all of Ted’s money so that he can’t lend it to him. As for Drew, it’s not just your size or profession which intimidates Michael, but the fact that you see through that boy-next-door facade and point his numerous flaws out to Emmett. It’s what had Michael deciding that you all need partners like him, ones that will be happy to include him in whatever you guys have planned instead of always traveling and leaving him behind.”

“Oh my God, this again?!” Ted exclaims. When we all look at him, he rolls his eyes. “This was before he met you Ben, but do you guys remember how he was when he moved back to Pittsburgh after David dumped him? He was all woe is me, and moping so much we could have walked on his bottom lip to Fire Island. He had gone back to work at the Big Q, and Lord knows NONE of us could have a good time. Hell, he was getting drunk and high every night, just looking for attention. But none of us had time then, either. Emmett was still reeling from George’s death, I was having a hard time after losing both my job and Blake, Justin was recovering from the… yeah, NONE of us had time to play into Michael’s pity party. So now what the hell is the cause this time?”

“He seems to think that living in the days of glories past will get him out of the monotony his life has become.”

“But that’s absurd!” Blake says.

“Michael is absurd, why should his thoughts be any different?” Justin drawls, and I elbow him in the ribs. “Oh come on, Brian. I was being nice!”

“I know, which is why you deserved that elbow.” I laugh in the face of his indignation, before growing serious again. “So what you’re telling us is that all of his elaborate scheming and plotting with our phones was to cause a major fight and for all of us to break up?”

“Exactly,” Barry tells us. “It’s also why he chose to cause a scene in LeMont’s. Just as an actor is only as good as their last movie, so is he only as believable as his audience makes him if they willingly suspend their disbelief. And Michael’s victim mentality would have worked, except there was one person within that restaurant who instantly recognized the game…”

“Melanie,” we all say at the same time, and suddenly another picture

is beginning to form. Oh fuck!