Secret Romance

Becoming famous was something Justin hadn't expected when he came to New York. Gaining a fanclub was something he didn't expect, as well.

But he was aware these were possibilities, so when it happened, it didn't freak him out.

When he started receiving fan letters and flowers, he welcomed it, loving to read his fans' opinions about his art. Some of them were truly knowing of all things art.

But then there was something special about the flowers he received every Thursday. They were always different types, and the note either read the meaning of the flower or said admiring words about his paintings.

Izzy had laughed that he had a crush on an unknown person, but Justin felt himself absurdly falling in love with that stranger.

Justin had pressed all the flowers in a new sketchbook, after keeping them in water for a few days. He even stapled the note next to each plant.

On a particularly rainy Thursday, Justin hurried inside the building, glad to escape the weather outside. He bumped into the delivery guy, intercepting him before he could go into the elevator.

That day, Justin received peonies. He never particularly liked them, though he loved that one instantly. It had a beautiful, discreet shade of pink. All Justin wanted to do was get to a blank canvas and paint the peony.

The note read 'Healing' and for the first time, the word threw him.

So far, he'd received roses of all colors (pink for admiration, red for passionate love, red and white for unity, white for purity, yellow for friendship), lisianthus for calming which he hadn't heard about it until he found it in a vase, orchid for delicate beauty, ranunculus for radiant, poppy for consolation, stephanotis for good luck, followed by statice or limonium for success, sunflower for adoration, and magnolia for dignity.

Justin had no idea why someone was sending him those flowers and their meaning, but he loved each and every one. Maybe the person was a florist. Izzy had joked that it might be a woman, and if it was true, she'd laugh her ass off with no remorse.

Upstairs, he found an envelope on the counter. He had barely been home in the past week, and he wasn't sure if it had been there all along or not.

Izzy had told him about it when they exchanged shifts at the bar earlier.

Justin took care of his latest flower, placing it in a vase, before taking the envelope and vase to his room.

Carefully, he opened it, nearly dropping it. There were two tickets to an art gallery downtown, showing Dali paintings.

No one knew of how much Justin loved Dali's style.

Except... Justin froze. He shook his head. Brian wouldn't do anything like that.

The show was that Saturday.

There was also a typed note reading 'For you and a friend'.

oOo

"How can I thank you for joining me to the show?" Justin wrapped an arm around Daphne, steering her around a corner in the gallery.

They stopped in front of yet another beautiful painting named Swans Reflecting Elephants.

Daphne frowned, tilting her head to the side. "What you can do is take me to dinner and explain the hidden meaning behind each painting."

"I can do that. I planned on making Dali my final essay in college, but then I had to give up school."

"You could pick up, or take some classes."

"Nah, I'm good. I already have five people wanting commissions with me. Simon's parties are helpful." Justin beamed, walking a few feet away. "This is one of my favorites."

Daphne eyed the painting dubiously. "And it should be what? God, you artists can't make anything with sense."

"It's The Great Masturbator. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it."

"Of course. It sounds like something you'd like." After studying the painting, Daphne sighed. "Looks kinky."

"It is." Justin confirmed with a nod and a smile.

"We've been here for hours. Do you have a favorite? Or are we making rounds in hopes to stumble about your secret admirer. I bet he's some depraved old man."

"The Persistence of Memory. I stumbled upon it while googling when I was at Brian's once, after the bashing. I remember staring at that photo for hours. Brian even printed it for me."

"I see. So the watches represent the lost time… The things you can't remember."

Justin smirked. "At first, yes, it made me think of the prom, then I read about the way Dali described it. He said the soft watches didn't represent the theory of relativity, but they were inspired by the surrealist perception of Camembert melting in the sun."

Daphne threw her head back and laughed loudly, earning reproachful looks.

Justin rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't understand. Look, if you're bored, you can go home and catch up with Izzy. I'll stay a while longer. How many times do I get to see so many paintings of Dali's in the same place?"

"And you're curious about your mystery guy."

"That too. Though, I doubt he'd appear. Or maybe it's a she."

"It's a he. Trust me." Daphne winked.

"I'll have you know I've been hit on by women too at those parties."

"I don't doubt it. You're handsome. See you later. Don't stay too long." She kissed his cheek, heading to the door.

Justin took a seat in front of the melting watches painting. Time flew by so fast. He had no idea where the past few months had gone. It had been all a blur between work and painting and the parties, but late at night he let himself think of Brian.

He blinked back the tears. Thinking of Brian wasn't going to change anything. He still missed him and had hope for them to talk again, but the pain was too raw. He wasn't ready to face Brian.

The sad part was that he couldn't escape news about Brian.

Last he knew was that Brian and Evan had become partners and were going to make advertisements for Apple. Justin knew they could make grand things together, but working together cemented his fears. They probably had a casual thing going, like back in the day. The two of them fucking hurt like nothing else.

But Brian was a free man. If Evan made him happy, so be it.

oOo

Justin let himself in the apartment he shared with Izzy well after midnight. He'd stayed at the museum until closing hours, having discovered a new favorite painting. Printemps Newcrophilique, it represented a sad man looking in the distance seeing swirls of sand lifting in the air, while a woman with flowers on her head stood a few feet away separated by a cypress tree. Justin could feel only loneliness and despair when he looked at the painting.

To take his mind off Brian, he had gone to a club before heading home.

The drinks and drugs numbed him and the dancing liberated him of his problems. The lousy blowjob he got in the back alley made him question himself of what he was doing. He didn't want to become Brian and forget about his life by drinking alcohol and doing all letters of the alphabet drugs then having sex with unknown men.

"My wayward friend is back safe and sound," Daphne commented from the couch.

Justin frowned, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "What?"

"I thought you were over this stage of your life...drinking and fucking around."

He huffed, uncapping the bottle and taking a few sips. "I'm young. I'm single. I have a right to have fun."

"This isn't having fun. What did you take?"

"Nothing." Maybe he shouldn't accepted the poppers from his trick, but it made him feel wonderful.

"Drink all that and get in bed," she said sternly, advancing to his side.

"Kinky. Too bad I'm not into you."

"Ah, the lovely attitude Izzy told me about. Can't you pull your head out of your ass and talk to Brian? I bet he's suffering too."

Justin laughed loudly. "I've never understood that expression. Pull your head out of your ass. How is that even possible? Did the person who invented this saying had a detachable head that they hid in their ass?"

Daphne put her hands on his shoulders. "What the fuck did you take, Justin? You're not making sense."

"I think I am quite philosophical at the moment."

"You're drunk and high. Let's get you to bed." She led him to his bedroom. "Drink that water."

Justin finished the bottle, placing it on his nightstand and missing it by a good few inches, making the bottle fall and roll under the bed. "Shit." He crouched to get it, but was distracted by finding his pressed flowers album. "Look, Daph! These are the flowers I got from my secret admirer."

She flipped through the pages before lifting her eyes to stare at him curiously. "And you have no idea who this is?"

"No. I like the mystery." He beamed.

"For your safety, I hope he's not a creep. There were too many artists dead at the hands of their admirers."

"All artists have a tragic death. I'd be disappointed if I was the exception."

"You're too high. I'm done talking to you. Sleep." She rolled the blanket to the foot of the bed, before helping him out of his clothes. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No." Justin hugged the pressed flowers album to his chest, curling up under the blanket. "I want to be alone with my flowers."

"God, you're so gone." She giggled, pressing a kiss on his head. "I'll bring you another bottle of water."