KEPT Chapter 1 The day dawned like any other. It found Justin wondering how to spend his time this day, anxiously waiting for the night to arrive; thinking if only there was some way to make time stand still because, of course, it wasn't the day that was the problem, it was the night. It was always the night because that's when "he" came. "He" was Robert. Robert had taken him in and "kept" him since he was 16-years-old, two years ago, after Robert found him on the streets; penniless and homeless. Justin still couldn't believe that he was still here. Of course, at first he stayed because he had nowhere else to go. Now he stayed because if he tried to leave he knew he would be dead. Justin was basically Robert's property, and Robert didn't take kindly to losing what he thought was his; bought and paid for. As Justin looked around the loft, that's exactly what he thought, bought and paid for. Robert paid for the loft, paid for Justin's clothes, the food he ate, and, thus, owned him. The funny thing about Robert is that he already has a family: A wife and a 15-year-old son of his own. Everyone thinks that Robert is a very upstanding businessman in this fine city of Pittsburgh; everyone, that is, except for the politicians and police that are on his payroll. They all know who he really is, and that is the biggest drug supplier and dealer in the city. They also know about the loft and what resides in it because most of them have had a taste of that juicy little morsel. It was one of the perks of doing business with Robert; that he allows his boy to be of service to them. Robert's drug of choice is cocaine. It is ironic how Robert acquires his cocaine, though. It's actually through the police. Jim Stockwell is a wonderful supplier. It helps immensely that he is in on almost every major drug bust, and it also helps that he is on the squad responsible for incinerating those same drugs when the case has been closed and the evidence is no longer needed. Jim finds it very easy to exchange most of the cocaine due to be destroyed for some simple white powder, like baking soda. Nobody knows the difference. Jim and Robert's relationship goes back a long way, long before their present relationship. They grew up together on the so-called "wrong" side of the tracks. It was when they were only 12-years-old that they started their own protection racket, and they have never looked back. Justin pondered all of this as he started about his day. I'll tidy up the loft, he thought. Then what will I do? Maybe do some sketching? That is his one true passion, is his art. If Robert knew he still had his art, he would break every one of his fingers, of that he had no doubt. Justin's thoughts are interrupted by voices coming up from the floor below. I have nothing better to do, might as well find out what's going on. Justin pulls open the loft door and listens to the voices. Someone was directing people -- probably movers by the sound of it -- where to put furniture in the loft below his. Great, a new neighbor, he thought. Maybe that will make Robert be a little more careful in how far he pushes me around when he is so stoned he doesn't know what he is doing. Robert gets ugly when he's drunk or stoned out of his mind on his cocaine. His favorite thing to do is see how many bruises he can make on Justin's body; how far he can push his boy. Of course, that went for everyone else who used him, too. It didn't bother Robert at all. Robert considers it a service to the pepole who do things for him. Luckily Robert didn't know Justin's biggest secret, and that is that every person who has used or abused him has been caught on tape. Justin has quite the library of the good, the bad, and the ugly -- but mostly the bad and the ugly. He always thought at least he would have a little insurance if something happened. He didn't quite know what might happen, but he had it if he needed it. The collection was quite large by now. He was pulled back out of his thoughts again by a loud, cursing voice. "Fuck you if you scratch my Italian leather sofa. That thing costs more than you will ever make in your lifetime." Justin smiles at that and wonders if it was a guy who was gay having a queen moment or just some rich prick. Maybe I'll go introduce myself and find out, he thinks. After having showered and done all of the tidying he could in the minimalist designed loft, Justin thought he might as well get his art supplies together and head to his favorite place, the park. At least there were kids there who were allowed to be kids, nothing expected of them except to be happy and play. He had been like that once as a child, but not for long. He put his sketch pad and extra charcoals in his backpack and locked the door behind him. His hand hovered over the elevator button, but then decided he would take the stairs and see if he could get a glimpse of that new neighbor with apparently expensive tastes. Bounding down the stairs, he came upon the open door to the loft below. Moving men were still milling about inside, and a rather tall man -- at least compared to Justin -- was standing just inside the door surveying his domain. Justin decided that that's exactly what he looked like, with his hands on his hips, legs slightly apart; a king surveying his land. Justin tentatively knocks on the door, and the tall man whirls around with fury in his eyes. They soften immediately when the tall man gets his eyefull of what's standing in front of him. Brian has never been dumbfounded when coming face to face with someone, but this sure takes the cake. Who is this kid, and where did he come from, he thought. My, God, that soft gold hair, blue eyes, and those luscious lips. He wanted to reach out and touch them. Never had he felt such an instantaneous attraction to anyone before. He was Brian Kinney, for fuck's sake. "Hi," the vision said. "My name is Justin." The kid held out his hand and Brian took it. At the touch of their hands, Justin could swear he felt something, some kind of tingling. "Hi, Justin. I'm Brian Kinney. So," Brian asks, "you live with your parents here? Justin graces Brian with a small, but rather sad smile, Brian decides, and finally says, "No. I live in the loft above yours." Brian raises his eyebrows at this. How old is this kid, he wonders, and where the hell does he get the money to afford this place? "Well, I better get going," the kids says. "I've got things to do. Later." "Later," Brian says, and watches as the kids bounds down the rest of the stairs. That's when Brian sees one of the finest sights he has seen since coming face to face with the kid, and that's his ass. My, God, he thinks to himsel, I've got to get me some of that. Just then there is aloud crash behind Brian, and he turns around with more expletives flowing out of his mouth. As Justin hits the bottom floor and opens the door, he hears Brian yelling and cursing. Yes, definitely gay and a queen moment, he thinks, and maybe also just a bit of a rich prick.