New story. It hit me out of nowhere and I had to write. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Oh, and I should add that this is not beta'ed. _____________________________ Faintest Spark Ending up in Pittsburgh again is nothing Justin has planed on after struggling for so long to get away from the place. But he jumps at the idea when his agent fills him in with all the details. Of course, there are been better offers at the time he signs the contract and accepts to hand in five of his most recent works for display. Paris, Rome and London are all beckoning him with salaries twice or three times as much as he expects to get out of the show in Pittsburgh, and that in case all his paintings will sell. But something inside of him tells Justin that it is time, time to visit home again. The show is set in a gallery Justin has never taken notice of in all of his 21 years of living in Pittsburgh. It must have opened up in the three years, three hundred and twenty-one days and nine hours of his absence or he has been plain ignorant to its existence beforehand. Either way, it's nothing like the Sidney Bloom Gallery Lindsay used to work at. Justin passes that place on his first day back in Pittsburgh, on his way from the airport to his apartment, and wonders what Lindsay does for a living now. They haven't talked in a while, talked as in shared bits and pieces of importance instead of the smalltalk before Melanie announces she found Gus and Lindsay hands the telephone over to her eight year old son. But Justin decides not to let memories of his past get him down, not until he has settled and adjusted to Pittsburgh again. He never told anyone that he would be back in town for a while and his mother seems utterly surprised by the news when he calls her from the airport, politely asking whether she could give him a ride. Jennifer is delighted, to say the least, and doesn't waste to invite him to stay in her guest room. But Justin lets her know that his agents has rented him a studio apartment for the durance of his stay. He asks her to drop him off there but once in front of the building, he can't stand Jennifer's look of disappointment, so he asks her to come up and visit his shelter with him. Jennifer knows that Justin is long past the stage of shabby apartments, barely furnished and dimly lit. This one is small, yes, but someone professional with a good feel for colors and shapes designed the interior. Art supplies he thought he needs in order to finish his final two paintings for the show are already put up in the small studie space next to the living room. He knows that after the renovation no one lived in the apartment and everything smells and feels new. Surfaces are sleek, unmarred and Justin wonders if it would be clever to hire a maid for the time being. He decides against it. It's not like he can't afford it but if he remembers his schedule right, he'll spent many hours preparing the show anyway. Jennifer is impressed by Justin's new living standards and talks about for how much this particular place would sell but Justin doesn't really listen. He takes his two suitcases to the bedroom and marvels at the huge bed. On the telephone to Schulze, his agent, he insisted on that, a large bed for two, not daring to hope but maybe wishing that soon someone will fill up the extra space. Jennifer is behind him a second after that thought and asks whether there is anything she can help him with. Justin shrugs, going through a mental to do list and then nods. “Groceries. No one stocked up the fridge. I said it wouldn't matter, I could do it.” His mother nods, obviously happy to get to spend more time with him and then ushers him out of the door. She's intent on helping Justin to re-adjust to Pittsburgh. Before they set foot into any supermarket, Jennifer makes a turn an heads to Justin's former school, St James Academy, to collect Molly. A funny feeling spreads in Justin's stomach as he thinks back to his days there and memories, bad memories, come floating back to him. He thinks of Chris Hobbs and the bullying and winces visibly enough for Jennifer to notice. She slows down at a red traffic light and looks over. “Are you okay?” Justin nods and shrugs it off, trying to replace his thoughts with happier memories. It was on the way to school that he noticed, realized that Brian really cared about him. They'd talked about latte, playful banter suddenly turning into more serious subjects such as Justin's further education. His possible going away, out of state, had surprised Bria. The slightly disappointed tone of Brian's voice, his reproachful way of asking whether Justin would go away weren't lost on Justin. Brian, Justin must have muttered the name because his mother turns her attention to him, wondering whether he said something. “Nothing,” Justin shakes his head, trying to shake of the feeling of regret. He feels uneasy when he thinks of encountering Brian after all this time. It's inevitable, now that he's in Pittsburgh, he know it. And once Debbie hears he's in town, everyone will know and he'll have to attend dinner and sit across the table from Brian who'll not look at but through him. Justin knows he won't be able to stand the pained expression on Brian's face, his eyes boring into him, silently asking all those questions Justin cannot answer. Molly bounces down the steps in front of the school building and squeals loudly when she sees Justin get out of her mother's car. She greets him enthusiastically and waves two of her friends over, introducing her older, successful brother to them. Though Justin never had a thing for girls, he blushes when the two, Anna and Stella, shy away and gazes at him admiringly. The three of them, Molly, Jennifer and Justin, spent the afternoon together and Justin concludes that he genuinely missed them. Yes, he missed his family above anything else during his time in New York and he vows to himself to spend as much time with them as possible. It's almost eight when the last of the groceries are put away and Jennifer announces Molly and her better left. They're barely out of the door when the feeling of being stranded kicks in and Justin wishes he wasn't alone. After unpacking his suitcases, he sits down on the white – white Italian moda sofas, he remembers them all too well – sofa and contemplates what to do with the rest f the night. He's not used to his irregular schedule yet, even after all these years. Some nights, he's supposed to be at three different events, socialising with the elite of the art world and some nights he's Justin Taylor, a man of 24 who doesn't know what to do with himself on a Wednesday night. He could always go out, explore the novelties of Pittsburgh's nightlife on Liberty Avenue but halfway thought his musings his cellphone brings him back to his living room. “Hey”, he breathes down the line and receives and equally breezy 'hey' as an answer. He smiles, slumps down further into the fluffy cushions of his couch and thinks life could be treating him much worse. “I think I'm settled,” he announces and glances around his temporary home as if to check whether he's forgotten about anything. “Fine,” the other member of the conversation answers and laughs. Justin's head flies around in an instant. He drops the cellphone to the couch and approaches the door. The laughter is growing louder with every step he's taking through the hallway and when he pulls the door open, he flies into the other's arms and every bad thought is temporarily forgotten. ....... The days which follow his arrival in Pittsburgh, Justin spends almost exclusively by painting. Three of his pieces are already at the gallery's storage and everyone involved is excited to see what Justin will come up with next. The last pinting develops slowly and Justin is shocked when he realizes what he's depicting. He hopes, prays that it is abstract enough to cover up to everyone else what's on display. On the fifth day, three days before the opening night of his show, Justin leaves his apartment for the first time in days. It's not aimless wandering around which brings him to the Liberty Diner. He seeks it out on purpose, hoping that he'll find who he is looking for. In fact, Debbie is there. It's a slow Monday night and Debbie glances around to see who just made an entrance. She drops the empty tray she'd been holding and it clutters to the floor noisily. But it's nothing compared to her shriek of 'Sunshine' which has all the heads in the etablissement turned to see what Debbie is talking about. And then she comes over and hugs him for a long time. All kinds of questions pour from her lips and Justin wonders how it is possible for her not to check on him everyday. “I'm fine, Deb,” he tells her and sighs, “I'm doing great, actually.” “So I've heard, Sunshine.” She smiles and proudly points over to a newspaper article pinned to the far wall. “What brought you here?” “I just wanted to make sure you came to the opening. No invitations were sent out. I just – I wanted to let you know.” “Sunshine!” Debbie sighs and swats the back of his blond head. “How dare you think I'd miss out on that. Have I ever missed any of your shows?” He smiles the trademark smile she named him after and before he knows, she has seated him in an empty booth and taps her pencil impatiently on her notepad. “Deb – I just - “ “Hold it, Sunshine. I'm sure you haven't eaten properly in a while. So, what will it be?” Justin sighs, content maybe, because some things in his life just never change and even if it is only the greasy diner he once used to bus tables in. He's fucking glad that he's there. Justin waits patiently for his order. It's not like there is anyone waiting for him at home, not tonight anyway. He's in the middle of tearing a paper napkin into tiny pieces when a tall figure steps up to his table and casts a shadow over him. “Justin?” “Ben?” He looks up and meets Ben's eyes with his own. “What is he doing here?” It's Hunter who emerges from behind Ben and Justin wonders whether he has grown a little taller. He clearly hasn't lost any of his attitude though by now Justin knows it's only playful banter. Ben rolls his eyes at his surrogate son and then sits down opposite Justin. “You don't mind, do you?” Justin indicated the pieces of the napkin in front of him. “I wasn't exactly doing rocket science.” Ben asks questions which make Justin realize he mist have really made it – Ben is full of awe and even Hunter seems unusual interested in Justin's tales of the Big Apple and the art world. Hunter scratches his forehead in an attempt to forget the thought but he can't help blurting the question out anyway. “So you are saying that the sketch of Rage's superheroes you once gave me will sell for, let's say, no less than twenty-five grand?” “Anything else would be a bad joke,” Ben say appreciatively, “but that doesn't mean you have permission to sell it. Anyway, I'm glad you're doing so well, Justin.” Justin blushes just the slightest bit of red, then pushes the empty plate of his long-arrived food to the side. He's sated, Debbie made sure to feed him well, and tired of talking only about himself. He asks about the class Ben teaches at the moment and how he's doing. They talk about Michael and Jennifer Rebecca and how much she's grown. Hunter fills Justin in about his success in the swim team but with no word they ever mention Brian. That is until the door swings open once more and the little bell announces a new customer. “Trust me, Brian, you won't regret hiring – now, now, look who's here. I haven't seen you in so long, baby!” All three of them turn their heads to see Emmett making his way over to the table, Brian – hesitantly? - following in tow. And then Emmett pulls Justin to his feet and kisses his cheeks and hugs him tightly. He takes another long look at Justin and observes what all of them seem to think: “You really must be doing well in New York!” Emmett steps aside to make room for Brian to greet Justin. An awkward silence falls over them all, now words necessary to explain what is going on. Brian's glance sweeps over Justin who blushes violently but raises his chin in defiance. Brian is seizing him up, like a stranger, and it makes Justin angry to think that it is all he is to Brian after all – just a name in the long list of fucks, when he's the one who managed to look beyond Brian's facade and got to the very core of his being. There's no word of greeting, no sign of acknowledgement when Brian slides into the booth next to Hunter. Justin rolls his eyes in annoyance and Emmett throws him a pitiful look. “How's Kev doing?” When Brian finally speaks, it's not asking how Justin is doing, “I hope the Lexus account doesn't prove too big for him.” Brian draws out the 'Kev' and it's a painful stab to Justin's heart although it really shouldn't be. He's shocked that Brian lets his hurt, hurt that's still there after almost two years, show so openly. Or maybe, he tried to tell himself, it's not hurt but bitterness about Kevin snatching away the fifteen million dollar account from Kinnetik. Kevin is Kevin Salomon , successful head of Salomon and Partners Advertising in New York City. He is and has everything Brian Kinney hasn't: a successful branch of his advertising company in New York, the Lexus account (which was supposed to pay for Kinnetik's office space in NY) and Justin. He's been Justin's partner for close to two years and that's the essence of Brian's hostility. Justin finishes the last of his water before answering. “Kevin is doing fine, thanks for asking. He's had some great ideas and the Lexus people have been very welcoming about them.” “Are you going to work on this with him?” Brian wants to know next. He's curious about it, though he really should care less. But Justin shrugs. “What does it concern you? But I might, if he asks.” “I'm sure he really appreciates his boyfriend's artistic talents.” Justin knows what Brian is playing at, hinting at Kevin using Justin for his skills in Graphic Design. But what does Brian know about them, about their relationship? Nothing. And the realization hurts. He is about to come up with a reply when Debbie emerges beside him with her coat draped over her arm. “Come one, Sunshine, didn't you say you'd drive me home?” He nods, not remembering having said so, but it's a brilliant excuse to get away from Brian's interrogation. “I guess I'll see you guys around. We have to catch uo some other time, Em. Sorry.” Justin waves and follows Debbie out of the diner without turning back. “Asshole,” Emmett mutters into Brian's general direction but picks up their conversation where he left off before the interruption. It's not even a minute later that they suddenly hear tires screeching on the wet asphalt outside. It's an attempt to come to a halt. There's silence for a second before the crash and even before Debbie's panic-stricken screech of 'Sunshine', Brian know, just knows, that it's been Justin who's been hit by whatever heavy vehicle came his way. He doesn't know how he gets there but then Brian pushes through people and he sees Justin on the cold cement of the road. The fabric of his four hundred dollar designer slacks soaks up the rain water in seconds and it'll probably ruin this pair but he doesn't think of anything at all. Because what he else matters when Justin is lying in the middle of Liberty Avenue, blood pouring out from his head, mixing with the rain and rushing down the drain? He doesn't hear the commotion around or hears himself muttering his mantra of 'no, no, no, no'. He's caught in the memory of a night seven years ago when he knelt next to Justin in a parking garage, praying Justin would hold on just a minute longer. Brian hopes it is a bad dream but knows it isn't because he can feel Justin's cold cheek under his fingers and then the blue eyes open up, wide with shock´. Brian can hear Justin's ragged breathing and leans down, pressing his lips reassuringly against Justin's but his attempt is in vain because Justin's lost consciousness already and all Brian can do is press his forehead to Justin's and hope against hope.