Spending the night with Ethan was the biggest mistake I'd ever made.
And
when I consider my life for the last two years, that's saying a hell of
a
lot. I really thought it was a good idea at the time. It was my way
of
moving forward and closing the door on the past. I thought it would
make
things better for me and for us. We would sleep in each other's arms
and
watch the sunrise together. I wanted to feel closer to him. I thought
it
would help me make a real commitment to him. Boy was I wrong.
Perhaps I should have warned Ethan that I'm not exactly a morning
person. I
don't wake up easily or well. I know Ethan was trying to be romantic,
kissing me awake before the sun rose. But I'd never actually slept
with
anyone but Brian. So I don't think it was too surprising that I
mumbled for
"Brian" to let me sleep a little longer. It was dark; I was still in
that
hazy world where you're not quite sure what is a dream and what is
reality.
But I felt the body next to me freeze, and I don't think I've ever
woken up
faster in my life. I pretended to fall back asleep, and a few minutes
later,
Ethan called my name to wake me up. I don't know if he realized I knew
what
I said. He never brought it up, and it just hung in the air between us.
We
watched the sunrise in silence. I hated the doubt and suspicion I saw
in his
eyes, but I didn't know what to say. I knew then in my heart I wasn't
ready.
I should have ended things that morning, but I'm nothing if not
stubborn. It
seemed so important to make my relationship with Ethan work, and at the
time,
I still believed I could. Maybe I wanted to prove that I hadn't left
Brian
for nothing, that what Ethan gave me was worth something. Maybe I
wasn't
ready to give up on being with someone who actually wanted me. I don't
know.
All I do know, is that it took two weeks of hell for me to admit that
it was
never going to work.
Ethan changed completely after that night. He had always been kind of
clingy. He wanted to see me every day, and he never wanted to go
anywhere.
He said he liked to be alone with me. But he became extremely
possessive.
He really started pushing for me to move in with him. The more I said
no,
the more he insisted. He wouldn't accept my reasons. If I said I
wanted to
take things slow, he said I was stalling because I didn't really care
about
him. If I said I wasn't ready, he said I wouldn't know unless I tried.
If I
said we needed to get to know each other better, he said we needed to
spend
more time together. It didn't help that I wouldn't spend the night
again.
That gave us something else to argue about. I made sure I never
brought
anything with me so I had the excuse that something I needed for school
was
at Deb's. After a few days, I stopped saying anything. I'd just slip
my
clothes on and leave without more than a goodbye.
Ethan also started keeping tabs on me during the day. He'd stop by the
diner
three or four times during my shift. He never ordered anything; he
just came
in to check on me. He would call me between classes and show up during
my
breaks. It was like he needed to know where I was every minute. I
didn't
know what to make of it. Except for right after the bashing, Brian
never
worried about what I was doing or where I was. Suddenly I had someone
keeping track of my every move. When I saw him at night, he would quiz
me on
the five minutes a day he didn't now where I was. When I accused him
of not
trusting me, he got all offended and said he just wanted to share
everything
in my life with me. Sadly, I already knew not to believe things like
that. I
knew he really wanted to make sure I wasn't still seeing Brian, whose
name
we had yet to mention.
Handling Ethan turned out to be fairly easy. I'd keep the information
I gave
him about my day basic and simple. There truly wasn't much to tell.
I'd
smile and nod in all the right places and then steer the conversation
to him.
Ethan liked to talk about himself. If all else failed, a few
well-timed
kisses were a good distraction. Then on the way home or when I was
trying to
fall asleep, I'd imagine fifty ways to tell him to get the fuck off my
back.
I'd tell him to stop being so God damn insecure and let me fucking
breathe.
I'd tell him that I left the most amazing man I'd ever met to be with
him and
that should count for something. I'd tell him that I had been drawn to
his
passion and laughter and understanding, and he was letting his need to
control me destroy all those things. I'd tell him that by holding on
so
tightly, he was losing me inch by inch. Of course, I told him all
these
things when I was alone.
These mental conversations didn't start with Ethan. I'd been having
them for
years. Let's face reality, neither my parents or Brian were interested
in
emotional honesty. And I always had something to tell them that they
didn't
want to hear. For years, I imagined different ways of telling my
parents I
was gay. None of them came to be. Mom figured it out on her own, and
then
she told Dad. But that gave me a new challenge. I'd lay a wake at
night in
the weeks before I moved in with Brian and craft these perfect
arguments to
make my father accept me. I'd convince him that nothing was different
because he knew I was gay. I'd make him see he could still love me.
In the
hospital, waiting for the meds to kick in, I'd confront him about not
coming
to see me. I'd ask him what kind of father abandons his child after
he's
almost killed. I'd let him know that he destroyed whatever scrap of
love
I'd had left for him. I'd tell him exactly what he lost. Then I'd
make sure
he understood he could never hurt me again.
And Brian, there were hundreds of things I wanted to say to Brian but
never
did. Namely, I love you. He was never ready to hear those words. I
regret
more than anything not saying them to him. But there were other
things.
After the bashing, when I woke up after a nightmare, he'd hold me.
Which was
wonderful, but if I tried to tell him about the dream he'd always stop
me.
He'd tell me not to think about it which translated into him telling me
not
to talk about. Some nights I wanted to scream at him. Was I supposed
to not
think about it like he didn't think about it? What a joke. I saw it
in his
eyes every time he looked at me. It was all he thought about.
Sometimes it
made him hold me closer, but sometimes it made him pull away. But I
never
said any of that. Instead, I'd close my eyes and try to fall asleep in
his
arms. And of course the last few weeks we were together, it seemed
like the
only conversations I had with Brian were in my head. Then I could tell
him
how I felt. I could explain to him why I needed him to say that I
mattered
to him. I could make him understand why the words meant so much. I
failed
miserably when I actually had the chance to tell him.
I learned a long time ago that in never quite works in person. Somehow
the
words that sound so perfect in my head come out of my mouth garbled and
wrong
and too fast. Maybe it's because I put all my emotion into my art,
that the
words I say seem so ineffectual and meaningless. I should try drawing
people
pictures to explain these things. OK, so drawing my father a picture
to show
I was gay would probably have been worse then telling him. Especially
if I
put Brian in it. But something has to work better than words. It is
so
frustrating to know exactly what you want to say and how you want to
say it,
but when the time comes you screw it. Honestly, I stopped trying. I
vent my
feelings in my imaginary conversations and figure that will have to be
good
enough. They probably work because no one else really gets to talk. I
write
the script so I get all the lines. The other person is there to
listen. And
I mean really listen to me. And I make perfect sense every time.
On very rare occasions if I'm pushed hard enough, I can actually say
what I
want to. The key is not thinking about it. It worked the time my
father
threatened to send me to boarding school. I don't think he ever
recovered
from hearing me call myself his queer son. And I did it when Brian
came
after me at Babylon, and we set up our rules. The rules turned out to
be a
disaster, but the point was I stood my ground and told Brian what I
wanted.
Today was one of those days. Ethan stated the minute I walked into the
apartment.
"Where were you?" he asked in a really accusatory tone.
"At work, I came here right after my shift," he'd seen me twice at the
diner
so I didn't know where this was coming from.
"Don't lie to me! I was there an hour ago; you weren't there. That
woman
was no help at all. She wouldn't tell me where you went."
I knew by "that woman" he meant Debbie. She had been supportive of my
relationship with Ethan in the beginning, but she hadn't like how
possessive
he'd gotten. And since he was always rude, she gave it right back to
him. I
think the way he kept calling her "that woman" finally pushed me over
the
edge. Instead of explaining that he must have been there when I'd run
to the
store for the cook, I looked him right in the eye and said, "You must
have
stopped by while I was in the bathroom sucking Brian's dick."
In other circumstances, the look on his face would have been comical.
He
sputtered for a few minutes before finding his voice. "I knew you
couldn't
stay away from him. I never should have trusted you. I heard the
rumors,
but I ignored them. You'll always chase after him. You are such a"
"Don't," I stopped him right there. I knew where he was going, and I
wasn't
going to listen. "The fact that you would actually believe that is so
beyond
me. I haven't seen or spoken to Brian since I left the party with you.
I've
barely even thought about him. He isn't the problem here; you are. I
am so
tired of you checking up on me every five minutes and all your constant
questioning. I've had enough."
"But it's only because I love you. I just want to be with you."
"If this is your version of love, I'm not interested. This is never
going to
work Ethan. I don't love you. I thought I could, but I can't. And
you
don't love me either. You want someone to worship you, to hang on your
every
word, and be content to just be by your side. That's not love, and
that
person is never going to be me. Goodbye Ethan." With that, I turned
around
and walked out the door.
So it's over. My big romance lasted all of six weeks. I should feel
sad,
but I don't. I'm glad I finally told Ethan how I feel. The words
didn't
come out perfectly and there was a lot more I wanted to say, but I
think he
got the point. I don't think I'll ever talk to him again, in person or
in my
head. And that's OK. Ethan turned out to be way more trouble than he
was
worth. The last two weeks have been horrible. I was always so tense,
trying
not to say the wrong thing, trying not to rock the boat. But no more.
Mostly, I'm relieved. I finally feel free.
So Walk On Barefoot For Me (Brian's POV)
I thought I was prepared to see Justin again. Maybe if it had happened
like
I'd imagined, but it didn't it. I thought I'd see him in the diner one
day
or run into him on Liberty Avenue. I was ready for that to happen.
He'd
already been gone for two months, and we couldn't avoid each other
forever.
But I never saw him in any of those familiar places, and then he
blindsided
me. I had just stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of some
anonymous
office building. I was in a good mood; my meeting had gone well, and I
had a
new contract to show Vance. Then I saw him.
He was coming across the lobby toward me. I could tell he hadn't
spotted me
so I had a minute to study him. He looked stunning. He was dressed in
the
high end version of what they call business casual: tailored black
pants and
what looked to be a blue-grey silk shirt. It's not a style I care for;
personally I prefer suits. But on Justin, it was perfect. He has this
casual elegance that lets him carry it off. Also, it made him look
older.
The few times I'd seen him in a suit, he looked like a kid playing
dress-up.
Now he looked like an adult. A very fuckable adult. He was carrying
a
portfolio, and he was in his own world as usual. It would have been so
easy
to let him walk past. He never would have noticed me. But as he
approached,
I found myself calling his name.
"Justin," his name sounded strange to me. I hadn't said it out loud or
even
let myself think it since he left.
"Brian?" he turned toward me. He looked surprised but not shocked to
see me.
He stared at me for a minute, the way he used to before he started a
drawing, then he smiled. It wasn't a big smile or a nervous smile; it
was
more like the kind of smile he gave the customers at the diner.
"Wow, this
is a surprise."
Then he did the strangest thing; he held out his hand to me. It took
me a
minute to respond because I couldn't believe him. I wanted to drag him
into
the bathroom and fuck him into oblivion. Actually, the bathroom was
too far
away; the elevators were a lot closer. So while I was envisioning a
round of
hot, illicit sex, he wanted to shake my hand? What the fuck was that?
Finally, I took his hand and shook it politely, resisting the urge to
pull
him against me.
"What brings you here?" he asked when it became clear I wasn't going to
say
anything. He moved into the small reception area and sat down. "Your
offices are still across town, aren't they?"
"Yeah," I answered absently as I followed him and sat down across from
him.
"I had a meeting upstairs. New client."
"How did it go?"
"Fine," I patted my briefcase. "Contract signed, sealed, and
delivered.
That should keep Vance off my back for a week or two."
He laughed a little before he spoke, "I'm sure you were your usual
brilliant
self. They never stood a chance."
This encounter wasn't going at all the way I thought it would. Justin
was
entirely too at ease. I decided to try and rattle him a bit, "So now
that
we've accounted for my presence, what the hell are you doing here?" I
expected my directness to make him nervous; I was disappointed.
"I had an interview for a summer internship," he named some local
magazine I
was vaguely familiarly with. "It's in their graphics department. A
lot of
it would be basic layouts, but I would be able to design some of the
illustrations."
"So when do you start?"
"It was just an interview, Brian. I should hear in a week or two, but
I'm
not getting my hopes up. I'm sure they have plenty of candidates way
more
experienced than I am."
I shook my head. Sometimes his modesty just killed me. Did he
honestly
think they would find someone half as talented as he was? Or half as
charming? If he made any effort at all to sell himself, the job was
his. He
can be very persuasive. Hell, look at all the things he convinced me
to do.
And in this one case, the problem with his hand could work in his
favor. All
his computer experience will give him another edge. If it wouldn't be
hideously awkward, as well as way too revealing about my private life,
I'd
get him to come work for me.
"Deb will miss you at the diner," was all I said.
"Oh no, I'd keep my job there. It would be easy to switch all my
shifts to
nights. Internships don't pay much so I'll still need the money. I
wouldn't
want to give up the tips anyway."
For some reason, a vision of him showing me the money he made dancing
at
Babylon flashed before my eyes. I wondered if he was worried about
next
year's tuition. I didn't want him doing anything stupid like that
again, but
I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. We never talked about what
would
happen after he moved out. Hell, until now we hadn't talked at all.
Justin
kept reminding me to have a legal agreement drawn up, but I always put
him
off. It hadn't seemed necessary. I guess we both assumed we'd still
be
together when he graduated. What the fuck! Did I just think that?
When the
hell did I start assuming he'd still be with me? When did I start
thinking
of him as a permanent fixture in my life? Right before he walked out
the
door, apparently. I reached a hand up to ease the tension forming
behind my
eyes. I could feel Justin staring at me.
"Justin, if you're concerned about tuition, don't be. We have an
arrangement. Nothing has changed."
He met my gaze steadily, and I could hear the determination in his
voice when
he answered, "Look Brian, I'm not some fucking charity case. I can
take care
of myself." I sat up straighter and gave him a look that let him know I
wasn't pleased. He sighed and continued, "I'll be eligible for some
scholarships after this semester. If that doesn't work out, I can take
care
of it."
"Just promise you'll talk to me before you do anything, all right." I
decided not to push him too much right then. Mostly because he'd given
me an
idea. Scholarships. If he got too stubborn, I could endow some
anonymous
scholarship and make sure he got it. I could always throw in some
extra
money if the school doesn't want to go along with it. Satisfied that I
could
take care of this one way or another, I let him of the hook.
He seemed a little irritated, but he nodded and said, "Fine."
"Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you around much." Justin
looked
at me in total disbelief, and I can't say I blamed him. I'd been
avoiding
him like the plague, and now I was asking him where he'd been. Of
course
it's not my fault if his shifts at the diner fall while I'm at work.
And if
I haven't stopped by to see Deb or Vic in the last few months, it's
only
because I've been busy. So let's see how he likes a little
interrogation.
"Where have I been hiding?" he echoed. "Nowhere, Brian. I work and I
go to
school. That keeps me pretty busy."
Hmm, no direct mention of the fiddler although it was implied. He had
school
and work when he lived with me, and he still had plenty of time to
spend with
me. He must be spending all his free time with his starving violinist.
I
settled more comfortably in my chair. "Too busy for Woody's or
Babylon?
What have you been doing with yourself?" I asked in my most sarcastic
voice.
He leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked me right in
the
eye, "Nothing that would interest you."
What the fuck! When did I lose control of this conversation? Justin
should
have been flustered seeing me for the first time. After all, I had
every
right to go off on him. I expected him to avoid my eyes and stammer
out
replies to my questions. I thought he would be uncomfortable at the
mere
hint or reference to his boyfriend. I even imagined him begging for my
forgiveness. But instead, he was perfectly calm. He wasn't the least
bit
disturbed by my questions. Somehow, I ended up being the one off
balance.
Well, enough of this. I was going for the jugular.
"So how is the new lover? Evan or Ian, what is his name again?" I
clasped
my hands in my lap, sat back and waited.
Walk The Line For Me (Justin's POV)
I knew my day was going too well. I had just finished an interview for
an
internship, and despite my lack of experience, I knew I had a good shot
at
it. Actually my whole life had been going well. In the weeks since
I'd left
Ethan, I'd been really happy. For the first time in years, I had no
one to
answer to. I wasn't trying to please anyone but myself. School was
going
well. I was having a good time. I should have known it couldn't last.
I
should have been prepared for something to happen, but I wasn't. I was
walking along thinking about calling Daphne to tell her how great the
interview was and to see if she wanted to go out tonight when I heard
it.
"Justin."
My name that was all, but it was enough. I knew that voice. Hell, I
would
have known it anywhere. I wanted to freeze; I wanted to run. I didn't
know
what to do. I was so not ready for this. For him. It would have been
easy
to keep going, to pretend I never heard him, but that's not my style.
I
turned toward the sound of his voice and knew I only had a few seconds
to
decide how to play this. With Brian, it's always a game. My best
strategy
was to play it cool. Never let them see you sweat, right? The only
way to
survive was to make sure he thinks I'm completely over him. No
emotion, no
reactions, I have to act like I am in complete control.
We exchanged the normal pleasantries. I did my best not to stare at
him.
I'd managed to forget what just the sight of Brian does to me. He
looked
sexy as hell. I always did love him dressed for work. He has the whole
predator image done to perfection. He looked surprised when I reached
out to
shake his hand. What the hell did he expect? I wasn't going to hug
him.
Maybe he thought I'd be afraid to touch him. I should have been. I
quicky
found somewhere to sit. The simple feel of his hand left me weak in
the
knees. If we had stayed there much longer, I would have ended up in a
puddle
at his feet. I would do whatever I had to in order to convince Brian
my
feelings for him were dead. But any illusions I had about my own
immunity to
him were shattered with that one touch.
Initially, the conversation went well. We acted like acquaintances or
former
friends who haven't seen each other for years. He threw me by telling
me he
still wanted to pay my tuition. There was no way I was going to let
that
happen. I already owed Brian too much. I didn't want to think about
the day
I finally agreed to let him lend me the money. It seemed so long ago.
I
politely, but firmly tried to let him know I had it handled. He didn't
like
it, but he let it go.
I had been holding my own with Brian so far. I could tell that annoyed
him
because he tried to put me on the defensive by basically accusing me of
avoiding him. I wanted to laugh in his face. I wasn't going out of my
way
to see him, but I certainly wasn't avoiding him. I still worked at the
dine
r; I was living with his best friend's mother, for God's sake. If I
was
hiding, it was in plain sight. He was the one who dropped of the face
of the
Earth. He didn't like my answer so he kept pushing.
"Too busy for Woody's or Babylon? What have you been doing with
yourself?"
Snide bastard. Brian and his loaded question. Well, two can play at
this
game. I met his gaze calmly, "Nothing that would interest you."
Let's see
what he can make of that answer. As soon as I saw the gleam in his
eye, I
knew I made a mistake. Brian hates to be challenged. He never backs
down;
instead he goes in for the kill.
"So how is the new lover? Evan or Ian, what is his name again?"
Fuck! What was Brian's angle? I knew he wanted to rattle me; that was
a
given. Maybe he hoped to embarrass me by reminding me of what I'd
done. I
wondered if he knew we'd broken up. He had to. Debbie practically
took out
a full page at announcing it when I finally gave Ethan the boot, as she
liked
to put it. Was he trying to force me to admit Ethan was a mistake? I
decided it didn't matter. Whatever his agenda was, as long as I stuck
to my
game plan, everything would work out.
"Ethan, his name is Ethan. As to how he's doing, you'll have to ask
him."
"I don't think so, Sunshine. I've always found conversations between
former
and current lovers to be so awkward. I wouldn't want to make dear
Ethan
uncomfortable," he was the picture of sincerity. God, he was good.
"But I've heard conversations between former lovers can be so much fun.
You
two can compare notes about what a pain in the ass I turned out to be.
Then
you could commiserate about what an ungrateful little shit I am. I
think
you'd have a blast." If Brian hadn't known about Ethan, he did then.
From
the brief look of shock on his face, I'd say he had no idea. I raised
one
eyebrow expectantly and waited for his comment. He may have started
this,
but I was determined not to back down.
Whenever I think I've mastered one of Brian's games, he changes the
rules. I
was prepared for some sarcastic remark about love and romance not
lasting
long or being bullshit, etc. Instead his eyes softened, and he leaned
toward
me before he spoke, "If he hurt you, I'll kick his ass."
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I settled for shaking my head.
"No,
he didn't hurt me. I never let him get close enough."
"Good boy. Now let's see what you have there," he replied gesturing to
my
portfolio. I knew Brian well enough to know what the change of subject
meant. He was pleased with my answer, but he wasn't willing to
continue with
the discussion. It had gotten too personal for him. I didn't object
because
I was relieved. I wasn't ready for Brian to be nice to me.
I handed the portfolio to him and willed myself to be silent while he
went
through it. Brian's approval still mattered to me, but I didn't want
him to
know that. Luckily, there were no pictures of him or Ethan in there.
Not
exactly interview material. He paused at one drawing for a while. I
knew he
recognized it. He'd once offered me five thousand dollars for it. I
wish I
had taken the money; I wish I hadn't been so hard on him for trying to
help
me. There were a few drawings of Rage in there. I hoped that wouldn't
set
him off. It wasn't a time I particularly wanted to remember.
"These are good, but you already know that," he half smirked at me. I
knew
he was waiting for me to agree so I smiled at him. "Have you started
working
on the next issue of Rage yet? Maybe you can get your magazine to do a
feature."
"I don't think there's going to be a next issue. At least not with me
as the
artist."
"Bullshit. If you're worried about Mikey, I'll take care of him," he
waved
his hand in the air as if he could magically fix everything.
I rolled my eyes at him, "That's all I need. You telling Michael to
play
nice. Like it's ever worked before. I don't have the heart for it
anyway."
"Find the fucking heart." He stood over me and tilted my chin up so
was
looking at his eyes. "I don't want to see you give up on your dreams,
ever."
Then he gave me one of those looks that told me he meant what he said,
and I
was expected to listen, "The next issue had better be fucking fabulous.
I've
got to go. See you around, Sunshine." And then he was gone.
I was left sitting there wondering what the hell happened. Twenty
minutes
with Brian and I remember every reason I ever loved and hated him. He
went
from politeness to sarcasm to kindness in the space of one
conversation. I'd
kept my promise to myself and managed to remain in control of my
emotions.
At least externally. But inside, I was more confused than I'd ever
been.
I'd survived round one with Brian Kinney. Now I needed to brace myself
for
what would follow. Whatever the hell that was.