The Worst Thing - Part 4
“I’m sorry, Justin,” Larry said, visibly shaking as the man glared at him.
“Larry, do you realize just how important this campaign is?” Justin asked him, reclining in his chair.
The other man nodded. “I know, I’m really sorry.”
“I don’t need you to be sorry, Larry. I need you to fucking do your job and fix this layout the way I want it. Understand?” Justin was remarkably calm.
“Yes, sir.”
Justin stared at Larry, who seemed to be nailed to the spot. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
“Yes, sir,” the man repeated before making his hasty exit.
Justin sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Are you having a nervous breakdown?”
His eyes traveled over to the doorway where his assistant stood, staring back at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Because if you are, you should tell me. It would make my job a lot easier,” Rachel said, walking in and closing the door behind her.
“A nervous breakdown?” he wanted to laugh at that. That was probably what Brian thought that morning when he just barged into his room demanding that he leave town right away.
“Well, one minute you’re mission-man, the next your head is somewhere else altogether. Then you just take off in the middle of a very important meeting. Now Larry messes up and he is still employed here.”
Justin chuckled. “And you got ‘nervous breakdown’ from that?”
But Rachel did not laugh. Instead she made her way over to his desk and stared at him sternly. “Justin, what’s going on?”
He looked away, knowing that she’d see right through him. “Nothing,” he muttered under his breath.
“Then why is there a Brian Kinney waiting on line two for you?”
Justin looked up at her quickly, not even trying to cover up his surprise. “He is?” He hated how hopeful and happy he sounded.
“Brian Kinney, Justin,” she said, as if he hadn’t heard her the first time.
He just nodded.
“THE Brian Kinney.”
He nodded again.
“The same Brian Kinney who’s going after the Wilde account.”
“I know that,” Justin replied, getting tired of this conversation.
“Would you be so kind as to explain just what the FUCK you’re doing?”
Justin’s arched his eyebrow, amused at Rachel using such harsh words. But he also wanted this conversation to be over. This was none of her business. “No, I would not,” he said, a little too harshly. He dismissed her silently, before turning his attention to the computer screen.
He heard a loud sigh before Rachel left the office, shutting the door behind her.
When he was sure she was gone, Justin reclined in his chair. He knew she was right. This was crazy. He should be focusing on the account. Not on the guy who was going after the same account. But he felt like his self-control had left town in the last week and all he could think about was seeing Brian again. Which he did every day for the past week.
~~~***~~~***~~~
“What the fuck are we doing here?” Brian whined as he and his venti latte sat down in a chair across from Justin.
“This is a coffee shop. We’re drinking coffee,” Justin pointed out, earning himself a scowl from Brian.
“It’s a little early for smart-ass remarks, Mr. Taylor,” Brian said, taking a sip out of his cup.
Justin snickered. Brian was never an easy person to deal with on early Sunday mornings. “You wanted to see my playground. I’m showing it to you.”
Brian crooked his eyebrow. “Your playground is Starbucks?”
Justin stuck out his tongue at the older man. “No. I just thought that getting some caffeine into you first would make you more predisposed to NOT chewing my ass off before we get there.”
“I’ve never heard you complain about me chewing your ass before,” Brian smirked, causing the blonde to roll his eyes at the lame remark.
Finishing their coffees, the two walked down
Justin took him through Grant Park, pointing out spots that
Brian was certain the artist had drawn more than once, including the beautiful
Buckingham Fountain. Brian followed
closely behind Justin as the two crossed
Not taking his eyes off the artist, Brian took a seat next to him. And they sat like that for a while; comfortable silence surrounding them.
Brian closed his eyes, enjoying the fresh breeze from the
lake on his face. Opening them again, he
looked around. The view was
breathtaking. To the left and behind
them you could see almost the whole
Brian smiled at the thought, sliding his hand on top of Justin’s.
~~~***~~~***~~~
A couple days later
Justin could still remember how good it felt to just sit next to Brian on the
bench, watching water splash against the boats. It was the feeling he had been
longing for what seemed like forever. Still. Safe. Content. Comfortable. Happy.
It would be impossible to let go of that feeling. Especially since he knew he’d
never get that feeling back. But it was inevitable. Brian was bound to leave
and he’d be right where he was before his former lover burst into his life once
again. Alone. Fighting against the current.
But he couldn’t think about that now. NOW he
had an important account to focus on and an angry ad exec snapping at his heels
because Justin took his account away.
“I still think that we should go with the
original idea for the TV slots,” Cooper said, staring Justin straight in the
eye, challenging him.
“Why don’t we just hand the account over to
Vanguard right now and go out for drinks?” Justin replied sarcastically. He
could understand why he wasn’t Cooper’s favorite person at the moment, but the
man was getting on his last nerve, undermining and second-guessing his every
decision.
“Justin,” Mason warned him to remain calm, but
the last two weeks had been long and frustrating and very stressful and they
were taking a toll on the young artist.
Ignoring his boss’s warning, Justin continued.
“You don’t stand a chance against Brian Kinney. So, don’t even…”
“Would you all excuse us, please,” Mason
interrupted before Justin went too far, dismissing everybody else.
When everybody else quickly cleared out the
room, Mason stood up. “Justin, when I handed this account to you, you assured
me that you had everything under control.”
“I do.”
He knew what was coming next.
“I’m not so sure,” Mason shook his head.
“Sir, I assure you…” Justin willed his heart to
stop racing.
“If you’re not committed to this campaign, I
need to know NOW.”
Justin inhaled slowly. He had to calm himself
down, he knew that. He had to stay calm and collected, or at least appear to be
so. “I am more committed to this account than ever.”
Mason studied his face for a moment. “I hope
so.”
Justin watched the older man slowly leave the
room. He sighed loudly when the door closed, leaving him alone in the room.
A few minutes later, the artist made his way
through the hall and into his office. Shutting the door before Rachel could
utter a word. He flopped down in his
chair and closed his eyes. He felt so heavy. And tired. Completely exhausted.
There really was no dilemma. Brian would be
leaving shortly. So, what was the point? What was the point in putting his
entire career in jeopardy? And for what? For a few cheap thrills? A “safe” feeling?
Nothing in his life was safe. Or easy. Or comfortable. He fooled himself
before. And he was fooling himself now. This was all bullshit. He had let his
dick take over for awhile. It had been good while it lasted, but now it was
time for his brain to take the reins again.
“Mr. Kinney’s on line one,” Rachel’s voice came
on the intercom.
Justin stared at the phone for what seemed like
eternity, looking for some sort of answer that he knew he wouldn’t find there.
He took another deep breath before pressing the button. “Tell him I’m busy,” he
said, before turning the phone off.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Brian scanned the crowd from his spot on the catwalk. He knew that he was worrying for nothing. Of course Justin was busy. The pitch was just around the corner. It was to be expected. But the twinge in the pit of his stomach brought him to Madrigal looking for the artist. His suspicions were confirmed when his eyes landed on the blonde head at the bar.
“Busy?” Brian asked after making his way trough the crowd.
“Extremely,” Justin replied, downing a shot.
Brian watched him with concern. Normally he’d be all for pretending that life was grand and nothing bothered him. But he didn’t have much time. THEY didn’t have much time. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Justin put the glass down and finally looked up at Brian. “Why do you assume something’s going on? Because I didn’t call you to check in like a good little boy?” Justin replied bitterly before turning around to leave.
But Brian wasn’t finished just yet. “This isn’t you, Justin.”
The blonde turned around. “You don’t know me, Brian,” he shouted back.
Brian stared at the young man in front of him, realizing that Justin was right. He didn’t know him. Not anymore, anyway. He was still trying to find the same “Sunshine” in the man standing before him. And he failed miserably. “What happened to you, Justin?”
The concern in his voice took Justin by surprise. The young man leaned against the bar and closed his eyes for a second, trying to get his bearings. Finally, opening his eyes, he looked back at his former lover. “I grew up,” he said quietly.
And once again Brian had nothing to say. He just stared into the blue eyes, hoping against hope to see some glimpse of the Justin he knew and…
“This is a rough business, Brian. You know that better than anybody. We have to be tough. I have to be tough.”
Justin was right. You had to be tough as nails to even get your foot in the door, let alone actually make it in this business. And he hated so much that Justin had to find that out. He never pictured Justin in this world. In his world. Whenever he thought of Justin’s future, he imagined him as a famous artist, traveling around the world, showing off and selling his art. That was what he wanted for Justin. Not this. Never this.
Brian cupped Justin’s face wish his hand, pulling the younger man into his arms.
~~~***~~~***~~~
“Now, there’s a view.”
Justin turned around at the sound of Brian’s voice. Glancing briefly at his naked lover, he returned his attention back to the lights in the window. He sighed when he felt Brian’s arms wrapping around him. How many times had he fantasized about standing at that window with Brian’s arms around him. He even had more than a few sketches to show for it.
He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. Storing it in his memory. For when Brian wouldn’t be there anymore. Tomorrow never looked so painful before.
Justin took another deep breath in, preparing himself for what was inevitable. “It’s time for you to go.”
He felt Brian’s body stiffen behind him. “What?”
Using every ounce of self-control, Justin moved out of Brian’s embrace and turned around to face the older man. “It’s not a good time right now for…this. The pitch is in two days and I’ve got a shitload of work to do. And this…”
Brian took a step back, dumbfounded look on his face. Justin used everything he could inside of him to not show his true feelings as Brian picked up his pants and shirt off the floor and started to get dressed. THIS was what he HAD to do. Cut the cord completely. Once and for all. That way it will only hurt once.
“You are so full of shit,” Brian said, not even trying to hide his emotions.
“I worked too damn hard to get where I am and I’m not going to lose it all over a fuck,” Justin said heatedly.
Brian looked at him, stunned. “How long have you been waiting to throw THAT back in my face?”
Justin swallowed hard. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, no?”
“This is business,” Justin replied, his face hardening. “You’re the one who taught me that.”
Brian shook his head. “Oh, no, Sunshine. THIS is all you.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair and, glancing one last time at Justin, left.
Justin didn’t move until he heard the sound of the door slamming echo through the empty rooms, wondering if the intense pain in his chest would ever go away. Getting over Brian once was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He wasn’t sure he could do it again.
Go to Part 5