Email: pellinja@aol.com
Title: JUDAS
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: General for season 1 & 2
Summary: Series of short post-Rage stories alternating between Justin
and
Brian's POV. Where to they go from here?
Warnings: If you make it to Make Up Your Mind For Me, keep reading. I
promise all is not as it seems.
Credit: All titles taken from the amazing Depeche Mode song JUDAS.
Unfortunately my writing isn't nearly as inspiring as the song, but
that
can't be helped.
Author's note: This series is very different from what I normally
write. It
starts out a bit dark, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm
still not sure how I feel about it. Feedback means the world to me so
please
tell me what you think.
Difficult Decisions (Justin's POV)
I woke up the morning after the Rage party and had no idea where I was.
I
knew I wasn't in the loft, but I was afraid to open my eyes and face
whatever
was out there. The events of the previous evening started to come back
to
me, and my eyes flew open all on their own. Probably from shock. It
took
me a minute, but I realized I was on Ethan's couch. I could tell from
the
sound of his breathing that he was still asleep in his bed. Thank God.
I
wasn't ready to face him yet. He hadn't understood why I insisted on
sleeping on the couch. Hell, I'm not sure I understand it. I mean I
had no
problem fucking him while Brian and I were together, but last night I
just
couldn't. I was saved from following that train of thought when my
cell
phone rang.
"Hello."
"Sunshine, I'm on my way to Brian's to get your stuff. Be home in time
for
dinner."
"Debbie?"
"Who else would it be? Listen, you're coming home and that's that. No
arguments."
"Why?" I couldn't help asking.
"Honey, you fucked up. Probably more than you know. But you didn't do
it
alone. Besides, you're family, and family sticks together."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. Old rules still apply. See you tonight."
I stared at the phone after she hung up, grateful one problem was
solved. I
had somewhere to live. I knew I couldn't stay with Ethan. I was no
where
near ready for that. And my mom's was out of the question. I know my
mother
loves me, but it pretty clear she has no idea what to do with me.
She's
already handed me over to Brian twice and Debbie once. No point in
going
down that road again.
"Who was that?" I heard a sleepy voice ask.
Fuck! Ethan was up. I slowly made my way across the room. "Debbie."
"Debbie?"
"Yeah, Michael's mother. The one I work with at the diner," I tried to
explain. Ethan never figured out the relationships in my makeshift
family.
He wasn't really interested in the life I had away from him.
"What did she want?"
"Do tell me what time to be home for dinner," I answered smiling.
"Home?" I could hear an edge of anger or something creeping into his
voice.
"I lived there before. Remember, I told you about that. She wants me
to
come back. She's getting my stuff from the loft for me." I threw that
last
part in hoping he'd be happy I wasn't planning on seeing Brian.
"But I thought you'd be living here now. We could finally watch the
sunrise
together."
"Ethan," I sighed. "It's too soon. I'm not ready for that and either
are
you."
"But,"
I put my fingers on his lips to silence him. Years of trying to
appease
everyone kicked in, "I want to take things slowly. I want to do this
right."
He nodded, "I understand. But do you have to go back there? Can't you
live
with your mother or something?"
"Debbie is a mother to me. Besides, my mom still treats me like I'm
ten. I
could never go back there. This is the best place. Trust me." I knew
what
he was thinking. Debbie was still a connection to Brian. But neither
of us
was willing to actually mention his name. We preferred to dance around
it
for now.
"I'm going to take a shower. Want to join me?"
"Not know. I need to call my mom and Daphne, let them know what is
going on.
But I have the rest of the day free. Do you want to go to a movie or
something?"
"Sure."
He smiled and headed off to the bathroom apparently satisfied that I
wanted
to spend the day with him. God, I hoped it would always be that easy
to make
him happy. Maybe for once in my life something will be simple. I knew
better than to count on that.
I've been staring at the same stupid motorcycle for at least twenty
minutes.
Deb and Vic have been asleep for hours. I just can't seem to let go,
to stop
thinking. I've counted these damn motorcycles in French, Spanish, and
German. I've tried breathing techniques. But nothing works. Maybe
I'm just
not used to going to sleep without sex. I'm sure Ethan would have been
happy
to oblige. But other than a quickie is his apartment before we went
out, I
put him off all day. I don't know what's wrong with me. We had a good
day
together, a nice day. I should be happy, excited, something. But I'm
not.
Before, I was enthralled by Ethan, almost hypnotized. I wanted to fall
into
him. Let his passion and devotion surround me. I wanted disappear
into what
he was offering me. But today, I felt distant from him. It was like
he
couldn't touch me. Nothing could. I don't feel anything. I'm just
numb.
The one thought that keeps running through my head is what now. I mean
the
only constant in my life in the last two years has been Brian. Not my
family, not school, not even my art, just Brian. From the first moment
I saw
him, it was all about him. I was either with Brian or trying to be
with
Brian. That's been my life. And now it's over. Not over like when he
threw
me out after the robbery, or when my mother told him not to see me
again, or
even when I left because I thought he kept me around out of guilt.
This time
it's really over. I walked away from Brian, and there is no going
back. I'm
not stupid. I knew if I left that party, it was forever. So they'll
be no
chasing him this time, no showing up at Babylon when I know he'll be
there,
no pumping Michael for information, no hoping he'll come after me.
Despite what anyone might think, I did not leave Brian for Ethan. If
it were
just about the two of them, I think it's pretty obvious where I would
be
right now. Ethan happened to be there when things finally fell apart.
At
most he was a catalyst. I suppose I owe it to him to try and make this
thing
between us work. But truthfully, if I thought for a minute Brian and I
had a
real chance, Ethan would have left the party alone. But we don't.
I can't believe I finally admitted that. Brian would be proud. It
just took
me a while to catch on. Not that he cares. And tomorrow it starts.
First
I'll have to face all the sympathy and the "I told you so"s. Mom went
fairly
easy on me today, but that won't last. Mostly she was disappointed I
wasn't
coming to live with her. Oh well. I guess I'd better get used to
disappointing people; I seem to be pretty good at it. I think the
easiest
way to shut everyone up will be to admit they were right, and I was
wrong.
What else is there to say? The reasons don't matter; there is no point
in
cataloguing all our failings. I left; it's over. End of story.
Besides, it
doesn't matter what they think. What I really have to face is life
without
Brian. That sounds so strange. Life without Brian. I should be
devastated.
But I'm not. Maybe I'm in shock. Maybe I'm just not ready to face it.
Life
without Brian. I just don't feel a damn thing. Un, deux, trois. . .
Is Simplicity Best (Brian's POV)
The first thing I heard was ridiculously loud pounding on my door.
"Justin,
answer the fucking door," I mumbled. I reached over to shove him out
of the
bed, but felt nothing there. Then I remember that he wasn't there and
wasn't
going to be there again. Ever. I stumbled out of bed and answered the
door
to find Debbie standing there in all her red-wigged glory holding a
couple of
boxes. She brushed past me before I could muster the energy to ask
what the
hell she was doing.
"You alone?" She paused long enough for me to nod and then continued,
"Good.
I'm here for Justin's things. I won't be long."
I raised an eyebrow at that. I guess the little shit didn't want to
face
me. "He ask you to do that?"
"No, I volunteered. I want to have his room ready before he comes home
tonight."
As much as Deb drives me crazy, I have to love her for giving me the
information I want without making me ask for it. So Justin wasn't
moving in
with his new love. He was going back to Deb's. That was probably the
best
place for him, not that I cared. I pretended not to hear her and
headed for
the bathroom, "I'm going to take a shower. Wander freely. You always
do."
I stayed in the bathroom as long as I could, hoping to avoid a lecture
from
Debbie. There was no point in dwelling on last night. What's done is
done.
Justin is gone just like I always knew he would be. Talking about it
or
remembering the exact circumstances of his departure won't change
anything.
So why bother? Time to move on. Now if I can just get everyone to let
it
go, I'll be fine.
I walked out to find Debbie in my bedroom neatly folding shirts. This
was
eerily reminiscent of another time she came to loft to pack up
someone's
belongings. Of course, I had Justin to fix that situation. There was
no
fixing this one. I silently handed her a bag of Justin's toiletries
and
moved to living room to sort out his CDs and DVDs.
"Boy, considering how long he lived here, there's not that much to
take."
I bit my tongue to keep from reminding her that his stay here was
supposed to
be temporary. Just until he was better. I guess he needed violin
music to
heal. I didn't say any of this. I settled for a warning "Debbie," and
continued sorting.
"I know, I know. Stay out of it. Don't worry I have no intention of
interfering this time. No real point, is there? He expected too much
of
you, and you expected too little of him. In the end, you both got what
you
wanted. Congratulations."
I rubbed my temples in a futile attempt to stop the headache already
forming.
Then I turned to glare at Debbie, "I thought you were staying out of
it?"
"I am." She smiled at my look of disbelief. "I've had my say, and now
I'm
done with it. But I love you both, so don't expect me to take sides."
I didn't have a response for that last remark so I ignored it. "Make
sure
you have all of his sketchbooks. There should be five. And don't
forget his
computer."
"You'll have to get the computer for me. I can never figure out how to
unhook those electronic gadgets."
I packed up the computer and then endured another twenty minutes of Deb
searching every corner of the loft for Justin's possessions. Finally,
I
couldn't take it anymore. "Jesus, Deb if I find anything else, I'll
send it
right over."
I shooed her to the door and managed to force her out after only one
hug and
a promise to take care of myself. Sometimes Deb makes me remember why
I
don't mind my own mother's absence. I always hated being fussed over.
Once I had the loft to myself, I unplugged the phone and decided to
spend the
rest of the day relaxing. I deserved it. It was certainly better than
dealing with Lindsay's sympathy and Michael's outrage on my behalf.
I'll
face all that tomorrow. I few well placed "fuck off"s and a full
return to
Babylon should get everyone off my back. I wish I could believe that.
Unfortunately, I know my friends better than that. Justin leaving is
far
more interesting than anything going on in their dull pointless lives.
It
will be discussed, dissected, and analyzed a hundred times over. Until
I'm
ready to kill every last one of them. But fuck it, let them have their
fun.
Because they can't touch me. I am the heartless shit Ted once
described me
as. Justin barely made a ripple in my life when he was here; I'm sure
as
hell not going to let his disappearing act bother me. Eventually
they'll see
not a God damn thing has changed. If I let them live that long.
I should be going to bed now, but I'm restless. I got quite a bit of
work
done already. What else is there to do on a Sunday afternoon.
Besides, I
never was good at relaxing. At least not alone. The couple of drinks
I had
with dinner haven't hit me yet. Maybe I'll hook up with someone
online. For
some reason, the thought really doesn't appeal to me. I'm tempted to
plug
the phone back in because the silence is killing me. But I really
don't want
to talk to anyone yet. Maybe some music. I really need to get some
new CDs
because there isn't a damn thing here worth listening to.
I'm reduced to wandering around the loft. Just looking at everything.
This
is ridiculous. There's not even anything to straighten. Everything is
perfect. The loft is back to the way it should be. Quiet, peaceful,
orderly. The way it's supposed to be. There are no books on the
counter, no
couch cushions on the floor to be used as pillows, no open cupboard
doors.
God that used to drive me crazy. I mean how hard it to close a door
after
opening it.
I told Justin once the loft was only big enough for me. I guess we
both
should have listened. Deb said he didn't have much stuff here. Maybe
she
was right, but it felt like I was always tripping over his stuff. His
clothes, his books, his toothbrush, him. I hated that. I was always
meant
to be alone. There's a reason Michael lives with Emmett and not me. I
need
my privacy and my space. Not to mention my tricks. Now I have it all
back.
I can bring tricks home whenever I want. But no way in hell is anyone
ever
spending the night again. I learned my lesson.
Looking around the perfectly uncluttered loft, I start to feel more at
home.
This is my home after all. And now everything is back normal, to the
way I
like it. I feel in control again. I have my life back. No more
pretending
to be concerned with someone else's feelings. That was never me. I
live my
life my way, my rules. No more compromising or second guessing myself.
I
look around the loft again and realize I'm free. Deb really did me a
favor
this morning. There is nothing left of him here. It's all me. No
reminders, no traces of him, no regrets. Right. One more drink then
I'll h
ead for the bedroom. MY bedroom. My perfect, quiet, peaceful bedroom.
Just
the way I want it. Maybe I'll take a few extra minutes and put the new
silk
sheets on the bed. Then it really will be perfect. Neat, clean,
quiet,
peaceful. Empty.
The Narrowest Path (Justin's POV)
"So what did you do today?" Ethan asked as he gave me a kiss on the
cheek.
I was tempted to tell him I spent the day perfecting my new career as a
pool
shark. That was a lot more interesting than what I really did which
was go
to school, go to work, and then come here. Which is the same thing
I've done
pretty much every day for the last three weeks. But Ethan doesn't
always
appreciate my sense of humor. He asked me what my plans were once, and
I
gave him my ‘download porn and smoke weed' spiel. He didn't get it at
all.
He looked at me liked I'd lost my mind which made me wish those had
actually
been my plans. So when I opened my mouth a perfectly appropriate
answer came
out, "Not much. I'm trying to finish a project for school. The diner
was
busy so I made a lot of tips. Oh, Daphne stopped by and invited us to
a
party next weekend."
"Daphne? She's your friend from school right? I don't think I've met
her."
"No, you haven't met her, but you'll like her. I've known Daphne my
entire
life." Translation-Daphne has no connection to Brian. But we still
don't
mention his name. I noticed his violin was out and decided to change
the
subject. "How is practice going?"
"Good, well fantastic really. I'm working on a few new pieces. Would
you
like me to play them for you?"
"Sure," I answered as I sat down on the couch. Listening to Ethan play
meant
no talking for a while. Always a good thing.
Ethan leaned down close to me and gave a seductive look I swear he must
practice in the mirror. "Remember, I play only for you. You're my
inspiration," he whispered.
I smiled and barely refrained form rolling my eyes. I know I'm not
being
fair to Ethan, but I can't help it. I still feel so disconnected from
him,
from everything. So instead of being charmed by his romantic gestures
and
devotion like I was before, I'm irritated. They don't seem real to me
anymore. Half the time he doesn't seem real to me. Which is
ridiculous.
He's everything I ever wanted. He gives me everything I could ever
want.
And I don't come close to measuring up. I don't have anything to give
him
but my time and my body. There's just nothing left. Ethan either
doesn't
mind or doesn't notice. I'm not sure which is worse. He seems
perfectly
content with what little I can give him.
It's not even about Brian. I don't even think about Brian. To be
honest, I
don't let myself think about Brian. There's no point. I have to put
him and
the life I had with him behind me. And I have. When I walked out of
that
party, I walked out on all things that came with the life I shared
with
Brian-the clubs, the alcohol, the drugs, the tricks. Those things are
all
gone. Now my life is about my art, working, and Ethan. It's simpler,
easier. Which is good, right? But there's no center. I have all
these
nice, neat parts of my life with nothing to hold them together. It
can't be
Ethan; I won't let it be. There is no way I'm going to cut most of my
life
away in order to move on again. Maybe that's my problem. I left too
much of
myself behind at Babylon. But as I've said before, there is no going
back.
So I'll just deal with this constant numbness. I just need time to
adjust.
Then I can start looking at my life as more than a series of hours to
get
through. Maybe then I'll feel something again.
"Justin," Ethan's quiet voice snapped my attention back to him. I
realized
he had stopped playing. "What do you think?"
"Beautiful," I told him. I'm sure it was. Everything he plays is
beautiful.
I need to remember that.
"Justin?"
Fuck! I have to stop drifting like this. I could tell by the way
Ethan
looked at me that he was starting to realize something's wrong. He
smiled,
but it didn't reach his eyes. They were full of questions. Questions
I
wasn't prepared to answer.
"Are you all right?" he finally asked. "You seem"
I cut him off before he could ask any of those questions. "I'm fine,"
I told
him. "It was busy at the diner. I'm just tired. The music helped. I
already feel more relaxed." I could tell by the way he looked at me
that he
was satisfied with my answer. He always was.
"I know better ways to help you relax," he lowered his eyes
suggestively and
reached for my hand. I closed my own eyes for just a minute before I
stood
up and let him lead me to the bed.
When I left Ethan's, I decided to stop by Liberty Avenue. I knew it
was a
mistake, but I couldn't help myself. As much as I told myself I didn't
belong there anymore, I couldn't quite make myself believe it. There
had to
be a way to keep some of my past. Because I was suffocating in my
present.
I'm nineteen for God's sake. I can't be serious all the time. There's
nothing wrong with wanting to have a few drinks and dance for a while.
It
doesn't mean I'm reverting or regressing or whatever the hell word you
want
to use. I just need a break. There has to be some balance between
where I
was and where I am now. It doesn't have to be all or nothing.
I promised myself I wouldn't go to Woody's or Babylon. There are
plenty of
other places to go. I was walking down the street trying to figure out
where
I was headed when I saw him. The hustler from my birthday. He was on
the
other side of the street talking to some people. Probably scheduling
his
next personal appearance. And it all came crashing back to me. I
remembered
that it was all or nothing, and I needed to make up my fucking mind.
There he stood; the embodiment of everything I walked away from. I
will
never forget opening my eyes and seeing him lying on the bed. The
absolute
crushing disappointment. That's what I was leaving behind. For every
exciting moment in my life there had been a hundred disappointments.
For all
the color and lights, there was so much blackness. It was all about
highs
and lows. Pharmaceutical and otherwise. Who was I kidding about
balance?
There is no middle ground here. You're always on the edge of the
greatest
rush ever or complete disaster. Maybe that's what keeps everyone coming
back.
I was as guilty as the rest of them, but somewhere along the line it
got to
be too much. I can't do it anymore. Not when I know the price. I
never
cared before. I thought it was worth the risk. But it's not. I can't
go
back. Not with him staring me in the face. I need more out of my
life.
I said I would give Ethan a chance, but I haven't. Not really. I
haven't
tried at all. I've been with him physically, but emotionally, it's
like I've
been frozen. Afraid to move forward and afraid to look back. No more.
I
have to stop waiting for my life to magically make sense. I need to
take
responsibility for the choices I made and stop waiting for someone to
tell me
what to do. I said I wanted a different life. One without all the
drama.
Well, now I have it. I said I wanted someone who could love me, who
could be
satisfied with me. I have that too. Ethan loves me. So what if my
heart
doesn't speed up every time he looks at me. It doesn't get ripped out
of my
chest every time he decides to hurt me either. I can make this work.
I suppose it's rather ironic; I have this great revelation while
standing on
Liberty Avenue. Everything started here; I guess it should end here
too.
I'm half tempted to go over and thank the hustler for making me see
what I
have to do. But I'm just another nameless trick to him. He wouldn't
remember me, and he sure as hell wouldn't understand his significance
in my
life. So I don't go over there. Instead, I turn around and head back
the
way I came. Ethan will be happy to see me. I think it's time we
finally
watch that sunrise together. I can do this.
Suffer Some Misery (Brian's POV)
"Brian, why don't you come over for dinner tonight. I'm making pot
roast. I
know Gus would love to see you. Call me."
I press delete and erase the sound of Lindsay's soft, sympathetic
voice.
When exactly did I become a fucking object of pity? Lindsay calls at
least
three times a week to invite me over. I went to dinner once. That was
enough. She stared at me with her big sad doe eyes the whole night. I
felt
like she was looking for something in me. Something that's just not
there.
I don't know what she promised Melanie, but even she was nice to me.
And
then every two minutes, she was trying to put Gus in my lap. It was so
nauseating; I don't know how I managed to eat anything. It's bad
enough I
have to put up with her constant questioning: how am I, am I eating
enough,
am I sleeping? There is no way I'm going back in that house.
Debbie is just as bad. She keeps sending food over. And God forbid, I
try
to order for myself at the diner. It doesn't matter what I ask for;
she
brings me whatever she wants. I walked out once when she told me it
was
comfort food. Give me a fucking break. I do not need comfort food. I
don't
recall losing the ability to take care of myself in the last month. I
managed just fine for twenty-nine years all on my own. And for
Christ's
sake, what do they think he really did for me. Let's take a good hard
look
at who was taking care of who. He was a child. I was the one who made
sure
he had somewhere to live, a job, a way to draw, money for school. But
no one
is tripping over themselves to make sure he can survive without me.
What did
he ever give me that I can't get somewhere else? Exactly.
It's not like I'm falling apart here. Everything's back like it was.
Almost
as if the last few years never happened. I work, go out with the boys,
trick. It's a good life. Hell, most men would kill for my life. I
know
they are all waiting to see if I'd end up out of control like last
time. But
this is nothing like the last time. I don't think my reaction was too
out of
line considering. I'd like to see how any of them would have handled
it. I
mean he almost died in my arms. I held him and felt the life slipping
out of
him. Fuck! I press my hands into my eyes and try to block out the
image. I
am not going down that road again. There is no fucking point.
No, this is nothing like that. This is just two people finally having
enough
sense to walk away. Right? No one thought it would last as long as it
did.
I know all about their little bets. So why make a big deal out of it?
Why
is Michael the only one not watching me like I'm a fucking time bomb
ready to
explode? At least he understands. OK, so I'm probably giving Mikey
too
much credit here. His life makes more sense if I don't care. He wants
me to
act like nothing happened. He wants to believe there's no gaping hole
in my
life. He needs to see me go on as if nothing ever happened. That's
not so
much to ask. This is how Mickey and I operate for the most part. We
make
things easier for each other. He accepts whatever act I put on at face
value. No digging for something deeper, no questioning. And I let him
believe that my life will never change, that I will always be the Brian
Kinney of his dreams. Maybe it's fucked up, but it works for us.
I wouldn't mind everyone else's concern so much if I actually thought
it was
genuine. But it's not. They're not worried about me. They don't want
to
help me get over him. They aren't looking out for my emotional
well-being.
They might even believe it themselves, but I know better. What they
really
want is to see me suffer. For their own screwed up reasons, every last
one
of them wants me to be miserable. This is some kind of sick
entertainment
for them. They're all dying to see what I'll do next. If I'm not
interesting enough, one of them will usually be brave enough to try and
force
a reaction out of me. They'll make some veiled reference to him or
make some
bitchy comment about how I'm back to my old ways. Then they all hold
their
breath and wait to see what I'll do. It's all such bullshit.
Lindsay, Debbie, and Emmett want to se me heartbroken. They want to
see me
devastated. They keep asking how I'm holding up. Like I'm just
putting on
some brave face to hide all the pain I'm in. Talk about delusional.
But
that's what they want. They spent the last year whispering to each
other
about how in love I was. Trying to guess when I'd finally admit it to
myself
and him. Well it never happened. So now the only way they can prove
they
were right is to convince themselves that I'm lost without him.
Somehow if I
was sad, they would be happy. It would give them some proof that I'm
capable
of all those higher emotions they are all so fond of. Well, no matter
how
hard they look; they aren't going to find any. What you see is what
you get.
I am the heartless shit Ted once called me. Why do you think he left?
Ted and Melanie just want to see me bleed. They want more than
anything for
someone to hurt me. Frankly, I can't blame them. Look at it from
their
perspective. For Ted, I'm a constant reminder of everything he's not:
young,
hot, successful. And then there's Melanie. She will never be
completely
sure of Lindsay as long as I'm around. In their place, I'd be out for
my
blood too. But I wish they would quit poking me to see if they can
hit a
vein. They get this gleam in their eyes when they think someone has
hit a
nerve. I can tell they are hoping I'll break down right in front of
them.
Maybe confess that my life is empty without him, that I'll spend the
rest of
my days lonely and unloved. If I ever did, they'd jump up and down
from joy.
And people think I'm cruel.
Sometimes I wonder what they are like with him. He's living with Deb
again
so I'm sure he gets the same fussing from her. Of course, he probably
likes
comfort food. I wish I had been there when Michael found out about the
new
living arrangements. Knowing Mikey, he bitches every chance he gets.
I
think he still sees Gus. I'm not sure; I do my best not to listen when
anyone talks about him. I imagine Lindsay smothers him with concern.
She
probably alternates between comforting him over his broken heart and
encouraging his new romance. I'm sure she thinks she knows more than
anyone
about giving up on me. I bet Mel couldn't wait to congratulate him on
finally wising up. She must love reminding him of what an asshole I
am. I
wonder if he finds them as irritating as I do. Not that it's any of my
business. He's on his own now.
The phone rings, and I see from the caller ID it's Lindsay again. This
is
fucking ridiculous. God, I need a drink. I glance at the time and see
it's
too early for Babylon. I guess I'll start at Woody's tonight. I grab
my
jacket as the machine picks up. I'll call Mikey on the way; he'll be
happy
to join me. Lindsay's voice fills the loft as I leave. This time
she's a
little more urgent in her desire to check up on me. I slam the door on
her
concern. I don't need anyone's fucking sympathy.