Secret Unveiled

"I'm late for my own show," Justin told Emmett, who'd taken his role to make Justin look sharp seriously.

"I can't let you go there with your hair looking like a cuckoo nest."

"Christ. Why did I ask you to help?"

"Because I'm the best fashionista you know." Emmett winked. "There. Gorgeous."

Justin turned to stare at his reflection in Emmett's hotel room mirror. He had to admit, he looked sophisticated. "Thanks, Em."

"Anytime, baby."

In the limo Simon had hired for him, Emmett sipped from the Champagne.

"One could get used to this."

"Not for too long. I wish I could have kept my promise to myself and for this to be my first real show and a farewell to Simon. Not happening."

"Don't you worry. Everything is going to be okay. You'll see. In no time you'll become a huge success and fly away from Simon."

"I hope you're right." Justin fidgeted. For unknown reason, he'd never taken the bracelet off his wrist, and it calmed him every time he was agitated.

Emmett noticed him playing with it, and smiled wryly. "How's the brute?"

"Brian? How should I know?"

"You haven't talked to him?"

"No. We run in different circles. We're here," Justin announced, his knee bouncing nervously as the limo pulled in front of the gallery.

"Do you want a Valium?" Emmett asked seriously.

Justin laughed nervously. "I don't want to pass out. I'm nervous as fuck as it is. Thanks for riding with me."

What he didn't expect was the flashes that greeted him when he stepped out of the car.

"You're famous now. Wave and smile," Emmett joked, straightening his pink boa, throwing a tail end over his shoulder.

Justin rolled his eyes. Only Emmett could wear yolk yellow pants, a colorful dress shirt, and a pink boa to an art gallery and still look good.

Justin had a crisp white shirt and his new cashmere sweater, along with a pair of Hugo Boss dress pants he had as a present from Brian.

At the entrance, the guy holding the Champagne flutes greeted him with a smile. Before Justin could pass him, he stopped him saying he had something else for him.

"I have instruction to tell you to put this in your breast pocket, Mr. Taylor." He handed him a small inflorescence of a lilac. "Also, I was told to let you know its meaning. First love."

Justin's hands started shaking, as he accepted the small bunch of lilac. He put it in his pocket, pressing it close to his heart.

Brian.

He was certain it was Brian.

Brian, who still loved him.

Emmett had disappeared in the crowd, leaving Justin to find his way around. He avoided Simon, not ready to greet and meet any snobby people.

"Sunshine!" He heard Debbie before he saw her. Next thing he knew, he was engulfed in her freesia scented blouse. "My, you're so thin."

"Hi, Debbie. I missed you too."

"Don't give me that smile. Are you eating?"

"Yes. I swear to you," he insisted when she didn't believe him.

"Justin, sweetheart! These are some of your best pieces!" His mother approached from behind Debbie. "We want one."

Tucker nodded from beside her. "I especially like that horse painting."

"What horse?" Justin frowned. He should have known Tucker wasn't an art critic.

"Divine Intervention, I think it's the name."

"That is not a horse," Justin groaned. "If you fail to understand it, you don't deserve to have it."

"Justin, we all saw a horse," his mother said softly.

Aggravated, he spun on his heels. "I better go find Simon. Catch you up later."

The horse painting as his family so kindly put it, was his latest piece. He hadn't even planned on painting it, let alone show it to the world.

The idea came to him after his conversation with Evan.

There was a horse, true, but what that horse meant was more important. The white, graceful horse represented a hero, a saviour of the world, a pure and sacred being. Though, his inspiration came after reading an article in a magazine about Buddhism where there was a tale. The legend said there was a white horse named Kanthaka and that he was a royal servant and Prince Siddhartha's favorite, who later had become Gautama Buddha. Siddhartha used Kanthaka in all major events described in Buddhist texts prior to his renunciation of the world. Following the departure of Siddhartha, it was said that Kanthaka died of a broken heart.

Justin could relate.

In the days following his talk with Evan, the wound created after breaking up with Brian had re-opened and was bleeding. There were times when he thought whether or not it was possible to die of heartbreak.

Simon introduced him to new people, pointed him to old acquaintances from parties, interested in his new art, patting him proudly on the shoulder.

After hours of shaking hands and polite small talk, Justin returned to his family. They were at the refreshments table.

"These are fantastic!" Michael exclaimed.

Justin smiled bashfully. "The caviar or my paintings?"

"Your paintings, of course! A few months here and you think you're big and mighty."

"I always thought that." Justin smirked.

"I knew you were talented, but this is truly fantastic," Ben said proudly. "Do you have anything at decent prices?"

"Simon priced them, even though I vetoed some of the ridiculous amounts, I couldn't stop him from going overboard. For you, though, choose one that you like and it's yours."

Michael dropped the piece of crouton, gaping at him.

"We couldn't!" Ben told him sternly.

"I insist. Whatever you like, no matter the size or the actual price. You've both been amazing over the years. It's the only way I can thank you."

"You can't be serious," Michael gasped.

"I am."

Simon approached Justin, pulling him to the side. "Beatrice couldn't deny the gentleman. You just sold Divine Intervention to an absurd price."

Justin's eyes widened. He'd especially told Beatrice and Simon that painting wasn't for sale. "No!"

"Five million."

Justin choked on his spit. "What did you say?"

"Five million dollars."

"I need to sit down."

Simon led him to the first available chair. "Let me bring you a glass of water."

His family rushed to his side, seeing him pale, worried something happened. Justin placated his mother's and Debbie's worry, accepting gratefully the glass of cold water from Simon.

His most pricey painting was Dark Sun, representing a sort of eclipse, but its true meaning was a neverending night after a broken heart. His whole show was centered around how hurt he was after his break up with Brian. Dark Sun cost six hundred and seven thousand. It was too much, and Justin had feared it wouldn't sell.

Then Simon let him know the impossible. His beloved painting had been sold for an obscene price to who knows what snob who wouldn't understand its true meaning.

When he started crying, he heard Simon explaining to his family that these were tears of joy for selling a painting for five million dollars.

For the rest of the evening, Justin was on autopilot, gravitating around Divine Intervention, staring at it, absorbing every stroke of brush. He was going to miss it.

He even entertained the thought of tracking down the person who bought it and pleading them to change their mind.

Simon intercepted him at the end of the show when most of the people had left.

"You must have made a great impression. You have a dinner invitation." He handed Justin an envelope.

10:30 PM - Masa Restaurant

Time Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle, 4th fl. (60th St. at Broadway)

Justin would recognize that handwriting out of anyone's in the world. There was also a tiny flower glued to the invitation. It was a golden gardenia, and under it was a scribbled 'you bring me joy'.

"Where are you going?" Daphne demanded, seeing her friend ready to leave. "We've waited for you to go out and eat."

Justin looked at his family and friends sheepishly. "Sorry. Something came up." He giggled, clutching the envelope to his chest.

"No one can't accuse you of not learning a thing or two from Brian," Michael muttered.

Debbie smacked him. "Don't remind him of that jerk!"

Justin's smile widened. "I have to go. We'll catch up before you all leave."

With a wave over his shoulder, he rushed outside to the limo, giving the driver the restaurant's address. It was ten o'clock, and with a little luck they'd get there on time.

Justin had no idea to what lengths Brian was going to keep the place open. He knew restaurants closed around ten at night.

At the moment he didn't care. He'd pay Brian back from the money he got on his beloved painting.

All the ride to Broadway, Justin kept his nose burrowed into the golden gardenia, letting his tears fall.

Brian still loved him, and he probably never stopped.

Justin was ready to fall at his feet and beg for forgiveness for acting like a twat. He'd known from the moment Brian promised him that he wouldn't get involved with Evan that it was a lie. He could tell Brian was curious. He should have allowed him to do it, with his consent.

Justin was sure that if he'd been in Brian's place, he would have done the same. If he was with someone else, no matter how much he loved the new boyfriend, he'd have gone one last time after Brian, his first boss.

Though his logic was absurd, Justin knew one thing for sure. Brian was more than forgiven.

Brian was his mysterious admirer.

Brian bought him flowers and took enough time to research their meaning. It all made sense, the meaning of the flowers.

Brian bought him chocolates, his favorite kind.

Brian bought him tickets to the Dali's paintings exhibition.

And his final grand gesture was dinner in a top class New York restaurant.

If Brian ended up proposing that evening, he'd accept.