A New Day has Come -- Part 2 Learning to Be -- Brian's story By: Acacia Chapter One **************** Okay… where the fuck to start. I bet you’re wondering where I stand in my life. Then again, you’re most likely saying ‘Why would I give a fuck?’ Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck. It seems like my life is on the front page of Pittsburgh Out anyway, so I might as well just give you the real version and not some cooked up bullshit that they are saying. Today is moving day. I hate moving and since this is NOT my move, but Justin’s I hate it even more. I keep telling the shit that he can just stay with me, but he tells me that bullshit about how he needs to be a man… he needs to do this on his own. What the fuck is that shit? At times I wonder why I even bother. So we’re moving his shit into this small ass apartment, trying to find room to put his things. Even though he doesn’t have a lot of crap, I know that most of his stuff will have to stay in storage. Only the essentials. How anyone can live like this is beyond me. But this is Justin ‘being a man’, ‘taking care of himself’. Damn little shit. I don’t know what I have to do to convince him that it will just be easier on everyone if he just stays with me. I don’t know what I would have to do to convince him that I want him there. But does my opinion matter in any of this? Fuck no. I’m just the guy who fucks him, what would I have to say about it? That’s the other thing… what exactly are we? We’re lovers, that much I have figured out… but besides that? Well, Justin hasn’t told me anything else. I figure with everything that’s going on in his life, with all the shit he’s dealing with – I’m not going to push him. I’ll be a good little boy, and let him decide what and where he wants to be. Only problem is… I hate his fucking choices. I want him with me. I want him to be home when I get there. I want him! But if you ask anyone else, I don’t give a damn about anyone but myself. Justin’s the only one who has never believed that, he’s the only one who had not bought into my little ‘credo’. He’s the only one who has not blindly followed me, who has actually challenged me. That’s why I want him. I can talk to him – have an actual intelligent conversation with him. Mikey… I love Mikey, don’t get me wrong – but with Mikey it’s mainly shit about our past, or some stupid shit. Ted… well we don’t ever really have much in common per say. Emmett? Mel? Ha! Yeah, right. Lindsey and I mainly talk about Gus. But Justin… Justin is smart, funny… hot as hell. He never takes my shit either – hell, he’ll call me on it every time. Okay, yeah, so there was a time when he didn’t – when he forgot how to read me. But we’re getting back to the way things were – at least in the understanding each other aspect. It’s … it’s strange almost how much things have changed between us. I only wish that he would trust me enough – that he’d let me take care of him. Yeah, like that shit will ever happen. Justin wants to be independent… he wants to quote ‘be a man’ unquote. I hate that he feels he can’t let me do shit for him. It’s only money. I want to take care of him. It’s not like anyone else gives a damn what happens to him. Especially not his so called family. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a little over a year since he left for that school – left all of us here. I remember that day that he came by and he told me about Ethan – the truth behind Ian… Ethan. I was so fucking pissed at him. I mean how dare he fucking try and force something out of me. How dare he decide what we will be without talking to me about it?! Yeah, I know – I fucking know all right! I know, I’m not the easiest person in the world to talk to. Hell I’m not even in the top one million, but damn. He was the one who was supposed to talk, to get me to ‘open up’. I know now that we both failed. We both failed in the relationship – yes we were in one even then. I pushed him away, and he let me. When he walked out that door the next morning, I felt like my soul was being ripped out of my body. I was still in shock about Ian – or rather his non-relationship with Ian – then to hear that he was leaving. For a fucking year. Once again he was making the decisions for the both of us, and once again… I was letting him. Stupid, I know. Trust me, I know. Yeah, I know I was the one who had pushed him off the cliff, but he’s the one who walked out the door. So what the fuck was all that shit about Ian being fake… their whole … whatever the fuck, being fake? Justin told me that he only wanted to get me to open up? It just didn’t make any sense – still doesn’t. I don’t know what to think about all that mess. So when I dragged my ass out of bed, and saw his note… I wanted to find him and kick his ass. I wanted answers – I fucking deserved answers. But he denied me those answers. He fucking denied me everything. Fucking little shit. He left, only leaving a damn letter in his wake. Justin was gone – leaving the fucking country – and all I got was a damn letter. I remember picking it up, ready to rip the damn thing to shreds… so pissed at the little shit for running like that. But I also realized… maybe I owed it to him – to US, to see what he had to say. Dear Brian, I don’t really know what to say. Thank-you for everything that you have done for me over the past two years. I can never thank-you enough. I know that you felt you were doing the right thing by letting me go, and I think that now I can be grateful that you did. I know that if we were still together I wouldn’t have been able to make this trip… so once again I have you to thank for that. I want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve done lately. I’m sorry I lied to you. I tried to get you to admit something that you weren’t ready to admit. For that, I’m also sorry. I know, sorry’s bullshit, but I do wish I could change what I did. I wish I was man enough to admit to you what I was feeling. But I was afraid. I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything. If anything I am the one to blame. You gave your all, and near the end…I refused to listen. That wasn’t your fault, that was mine. I wish things had turned out differently. But maybe we need this time apart… time for me to once again be able to read you the way I used to. For me to grow up… to experience all the things that you had wanted me to experience. This is my chance I guess to get over everything, to get over being a kid, and be a man. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to try and live my life this next year to the fullest. I hope that we can be friends, that you will still allow me in your life. I know I want you in mine. I don’t want to lose you, Brian… you mean so much to me that I don’t think I can fully function without you. I’m going to try… try to function on my own. I’ve never done that. I’ve always been taken care of… so now it’s time to start taking care of myself… to see if I can do it on my own. I know now that you care for me… I’m listening Brian… for the first time in months, I’m finally listening. Last night proved to me that you care. I’ve thought about this, about everything and I know that you care for me. I don’t know if it’s love… but what we have I think (at least for me) is much stronger than any love that I have ever experienced. I know I can’t ask you to take me back someday, cause I know I’ve hurt you. I will be here, however, if you ever decide that we might be worth another chance. That I might be worth it again. I hope to hear from you someday, cause as I said, I would like to be your friend. I love you Brian, I always will Later, Justin I pride myself on being able to read people… to know what they are hiding. But with Justin… well he sure as hell pulled one over on me. I don’t know how I missed it. Things were going pretty good between us… I am not even sure when things got so fucked up that I couldn’t read him. It makes me wonder what else he’s been hiding from me. All I DO know… I’m not going to listen to anyone else and their crap when it comes to Justin and I. This time around I am not going to let the ‘gang’ try and tell us how to do things… listen to their crap. Granted, I must say that this separation was good for us, just as he said it might be. We both found things out about ourselves. Granted, the thought of what that asshole Craig did to Justin… if I ever see that fucker out on the town… I can still remember the day that we started ‘talking’ again. I was surprised that he actually accepted my chat invitation. I’m glad that he was willing to take that step. I know I should be insulted that he thought all I did on the net was sex shit… but I guess I’m finding out that there’s a lot we don’t know about each other. Things went smoothly for a while, but as usual, it didn’t last long. So two months after Justin left, I started to hear that he had stopped talking to his mom. Of course I got hell for that. Somehow it was – of course – my fault. Go fucking figure. Justin and I were becoming friends… something I never thought we’d be – but he never confided in me his personal life. School – yes, the gang – yes. But now looking back on it… he never once talked about what he was feeling, what he was doing. So I just let things go on as they were. No fuss, no muss. I don’t know if I can even really pinpoint when things went to shit for me. But I can honestly say that through it all, Justin was there beside me. He might not have been physically here, but he was that damn little voice in the back of my head. In all my years as an Ad Exec, I had never once refused to do a job… I had never once put my job on the line for anything. Then again, I have found myself doing things that I never used to do since the day I met Justin. Something about him has made me do things I never would have done before. Damn twink. There I was – someone without a heart – working for the enemy. Or so they thought. The only thing is that despite the possibilities – the opportunities that this could have given me, and the change to get out of the fucking Pitts – I purposely fucked it up. Everyone thought I was working for Stockwell, and I was for a while. But the conflict of interest… well I told him to go to hell. I guess telling a client that he’s a fucking asshole, and he can go fuck himself wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. Vance fired my ass for being unprofessional right on the spot. There I was, out of a job – nothing left. I was pissed. Damn right fucking furious. So I fought back. It took two weeks to put my revenge together, but I did. See Stockwell didn’t like fags – hated the thought of taking it up the ass. He wanted to ‘clean up the city’. I cleaned up all right. Fucker. What can I say? I love fucking with people. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. He lost the election and I got a better fucking job. Vance felt like shit when the truth about the asshole came out. That he was an accessory to murder. Vance came to me… practically begging me to come back – so the company could save face. What did I do? I told him to fuck off. I wasn’t going to work for some asshole who had his ideas… who would fire me for standing up for something. So I looked elsewhere. It’s different. A different firm. But I’m full partner – huge benefits package. Most of my clients left Vanguard and came with me. I guess Vance is really hating life right now. Hell, I even took Cynthia with me. Vanguard can fall apart for all I care. Anyway, it took a while, but I was back on top. Better off then before, cause now I could take more time off. They loved me there. When Justin told me – after I was finally able to get in contact with the little shit – that I had ignored him. That I wasn’t being a ‘good friend.’ Well I blew up. How the fuck can he say that shit and not expect me to react? We argued, but it all worked out in the end I guess. We’re here. The thing that I still haven’t been able to get to the bottom of – to decide what I was going to do about – was Mikey. I have to decide though. Justin has enough shit to deal with that he really shouldn’t have to deal with Mikey’s bullshit too. I’ll have to think about that, and soon. “I think I need to get a smaller bed,” Justin stated as he came out from one of the back bedrooms. This apartment was fucking small. I don’t think that I had ever lived in a place this tiny. I move to sit on the small couch that Daphne has in the apartment, trying not to think of what is in this thing. I can already feel my skin itch. “There’s a nice big bed at the loft.” “Brian.” He begins. I know, I fucking know all right? Justin and I have been through this shit quite often. I keep telling him he needs to move back into the loft, and he keeps telling me he needs to ‘grow-up’. What a load of crap. I’ll let him make his choices, stay here. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop asking… stop bringing it up. The thing is, I want him there. The loft is empty without him. During his time away, I found that I actually miss having him around. And it’s not just the sex with him… although that is an added plus. “Dammit, Justin. You have a perfectly good place to stay. Don’t expect me to be all for this fucking ‘independence’ kick you’re on.” People say that I don’t care what others think, what they want – but that would be a lie. I do care. I just don’t show it, at least not all the time. “You’re going to do what you want, but don’t expect me to be jumping up and down. You know where I stand, and I think you’re making a mistake.” Okay, so I’m honest to a fault at times. I can get Justin’s feathers ruffled more than not. Especially when I– as he says – treat him like a child. Then again, what does he expect when that’s exactly what he is acting like… a spoiled little brat. Justin just walks up to me and places his hand on my arm. I want to just shrug it off, tell him to fuck off… but I don’t. Little shit has me wrapped around his little finger and he has no clue what he does to me – what he makes me do. Fucking shit. “Brian. I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me. And for the fact that you’re letting me do this. I know you don’t like it, but this is something I have to do for myself. I have to do this, and I would appreciate it if you would let me do it. Let me make my own mistakes… let me find out what it’s like to be myself. I have to do this… especially now.” I pull my arm out of his grasp, and just move to place another box on the old, nasty looking bed. “Whatever. You’re going to do what you fucking want… you always do.” It’s the same old argument that we have been having since we got off the plane. He wants to be grown-up. He wants to play with the big boys. And here I thought I had actually taught him to ask for help if he needs it, that that’s what a man should do. But does he listen to me? Fuck no. He doesn’t think he needs any help. I wonder if things had been different. I shouldn’t, but I do. I mean, what if he hadn’t found out that his father is a piece of shit? What if he still believed in the ‘image’ of his father? Would he be willing to accept help? Would he be willing to come to me and stay? I don’t know if there are answers to that. I really don’t. But fuck… I have seen glimpse of the old Justin every once in a while. The one who would stand up to me, call me on my shit. Anything’s better than the lost look that I see in his eyes sometimes at night. He doesn’t think I notice, but I do. I see him leave the bed at night and watch him as he looks out over the night sky for hours. I can see his body tremble with pain… the tears streak down his face. God… I want to kill Craig Taylor. I want to rip his balls off and shove them down his fucking throat. Justin tries to be strong, tries to pretend that it doesn’t matter, but I know better. It kills him. His whole life he was lead to believe one thing, and now everything that he knew is gone. His entire past has been torn up and spit out. He doesn’t think he has anything left. He feels like he is nothing. I know, even if he doesn’t talk about it. I know what he’s feeling. I know. I felt it for a long time myself. What did I do wrong? Why did my father like to use me as a punching bag? Why the fuck didn’t my mother give a damn? The thing is… I stopped caring. I stopped giving a damn what the fuck they did. It wasn’t my fault for their fuck ups. I wasn’t the reason why they couldn’t accept shit, and took it out on a helpless kid. They were the fucked up ones… they just wanted to drag me down with them. I wish I could say that they didn’t succeed, but I can’t really. I am fucked up… but I would never do what they did to me. I wouldn’t treat a child, or anyone like that. But Justin… he had it all growing up. His family was the kind that I wanted to have growing up. At least that’s what I thought. Everyone believed that Justin had it all. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth… never wanted for anything. Boy were we ever wrong. I just wish he didn’t have to go through it. Not the first time, and not now. I guess the only thing I can do really is be here for him. I can’t take away the past, but I can try to make it easier on him… make living today easier. He’ll fight me… hell yeah he’ll fight. But that’s the fun. Just like when he saw me in his room in Italy. We’ve had some good times. We will again. We have to. I can’t let him drown. The thing is, when I went over to Italy I never thought that I would find what I did. Justin had been ignoring me, and honestly I had enough of his shit. See, I’m not totally stupid when it comes to him. I knew from the moment he left that something was wrong – even before that. I had thought that things were getting better, that being away would be a good thing for him. I was so wrong. I knew something big was going on. Justin’s a talker, and when he wouldn’t ‘talk’ to me, I just knew. He completely avoided any discussion about himself. School – yes, friends – yes, but family and himself… no. Something was up and I was going to find out, come hell or high water. The little shit was avoiding me. So when he stopped talking to me altogether, I blew. I hopped on the first fucking plane I could get out there, and I was determined to find out what his problem was. Things were going all right between us, I guess you could say. We were actually talking, getting to know each other for the first time. Yeah, we could tell you how to make the other cum without much effort, where our hotspots were… but it was the other shit, you know? I found out I really didn’t know him at all. Go figure. He leaves and after practically two years we were finally getting to know each other. So I’m backwards. I never once said I was good at this shit. Justin was the first person, besides Mikey, that I really wanted to spend time with. But unlike Mikey, Justin and I had more. Yeah, we had sex added to the mix – fanfuckingtastic sex, but it was more than that. Justin was the first person I wanted to have sex with more than once. He’s the first person I know who could keep up with me. Justin was also the only person I knew who could keep up with me intellectually. He’s smart as fuck, and he’s not ashamed to straighten me out when I’m wrong. I remember times we would sit in front of the TV – watching some show or another – and he would debate with me about something we saw. He was never afraid to express himself, and what he knew – or thought he knew – was right. That’s why I knew something HUGE was going on. I just never thought I would find out what I did. I remember when I got there, someone had let me up to his room. Justin isn’t really a messy person, but his mind is on like 5,000 things and he forgets at times where he put things. He doesn’t always remember to put it back. Justin would always yell at me if I tried to pick up his things, telling me that he wasn’t done with that item, or whatever. And sure as fuck he would go right back to that in no time flat. If he said he would do something he would. I had never known him to break his promise… well not always. The thing is… he tries. And if he fails, he will be first to admit it. He actually feels bad about not following through with that promise. That’s Justin. I guess that’s why I was so upset – so damn fucking furious with him. But sitting on his bed that day… looking at his sketch book… fuck! I sat there looking at these drawings, feeling the coldness seep into me. Luckily, the door opened and there he was. Standing there shocked out of his mind. God, did I want to laugh as I watched him blink a couple of times and shake his head. “What the hell are you doing here?” is how it all started. I had tried to act cool, tried to play it as if I wasn’t ready to rip his fucking balls off and … whatever. That didn’t last long though. Justin always has a way of making me so furious, so ready to hurt someone. Gotta love relationships. Opposites attract? Ha! They haven’t met us. I remember parts of the whole day, the whole drama that we went though. I had moments when all I wanted to do was kill him, others where I just wanted to take him back to my hotel room and fuck him into oblivion. He wouldn’t let me do either, wouldn’t even let me talk. And here I was complaining that he wouldn’t talk to me. I asked for it… and I sure as fuck got it. He stormed out of the room, and I followed him. Yet another rule I had broken because of him. So at the beach close to the school… everything I had thought about us, about him came crashing down around him. Everything was shattered when he asked me what I was looking for. “I’m looking for the fucking truth, Justin,” I told him, as I moved to sit down on the sand. I was so tired, both from jetlag and from this whole fucking mess. He was gong to tell me, even if I had to sit and wait for him to do it. “What the hell is going on? This isn’t like you. You don’t call me after I had been silent for two weeks, yelling that I haven’t called then turn around and do the same damn thing. I think you own me an explanation, don’t you?” I sure as hell wasn’t going to take his ‘I don’t own you anything’ shit either. “It isn’t easy for me, Brian. It hasn’t been easy for me.” He told me, looking down at me. He looked even more exhausted than I felt, so I knew it wasn’t good. Something was bothering him, and he wasn’t sure he could even tell me. I knew I had to try and do something. I had to try and get him to open up. “Try.” Okay, so that’s one of the biggest jokes in the universe, I know. Me trying to get him to open up when I myself never once believed in that sort of shit. Justin wrapped his arms around himself, not looking at me. He was closing himself off from everything. I just held my breath, hoping that he would tell me and not make me do something I had never dreamed I would do. Luckily he did. Or should I say unluckily? I never wanted to hear the shit that was coming out of his mouth. I never thought that I was so fucking wrong about things. It was like we were watching the same movie, but the movie is totally different for each of us. I’m watching some action movie and he’s stuck on romance, or some shit like that. I was so wrong about a lot of shit. I sat there just looking out at the ocean, with him sitting beside me, just listening to him go on and on. I couldn’t believe some of the crap that he was saying, and it’s thigns that I had never known about. I had thought that he was over the whole business, but as I said… I was wrong about a lot of shit. He told me about how the Rage party, and re-enactment effected him, and in all honesty, I had no clue. I guess there was that part of me that didn’t realize that it would hurt him. Hell, he was the one who had wanted to do the damn thing to begin with… he’s the one who brought it out with that damn comic. The other part of me knew, I just couldn’t get past my own pain at seeing it again to even realize that it would affect anyone else. I knew that us pushing it to the side, not talking about it could cause problems later on, but there’s a part of me that really didn’t care. I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to remember that night. I remember when we were trying to get Justin to remember the events, that I had told him that I wish I could forget it. I didn’t lie when I said that… it was probably the most honest thing I have ever said in my life. I didn’t… don’t want to remember the way his head snapped back when the bat connected with his skull. I don’t want to remember the sound that echoed throughout the parking garage. I don’t want to remember it, so I didn’t talk about it. I don’t ever want to talk about it. Maybe I should, for Justin’s sake if nothing else, but I don’t know if I can. I guess there’s a part of me that didn’t realize that no one else would bring it up with him. I would have thought that his mom, or Daphne would talk about it. Hell, I thought that Deb would be doing something… if nothing else than trying to make Justin some ‘poster boy’ for gay rights. “I realized when I got here, what the main problem was. It wasn’t the bashing really that I had a problem with. I mean I did… but there was so much more to it than that. It was the fact that I am missing days of my life. I didn’t remember Emmett helping me get ready. I didn’t remember the party for Michael. I didn’t remember asking Daphne to the Prom. I didn’t remember the dance. I guess that I just couldn’t handle not remembering anymore. I wanted those missing days back. I wanted something besides those brief images I did have of Hobbs… of the attack,” he tells me. Yet another thing that I didn’t realize that he had a problem with. Okay, so sue me. We didn’t talk… maybe we should have, but we didn’t. We never talked about that night after he remembered that little bit he did. I guess I had just assumed when he remembered that part while we were at the Munchers for Gus’ party, that the rest of it would just come back to him as well. I’m not a fucking doctor, so how was I supposed to know? All I knew was that things were okay. Not great, but okay. He was getting back on track, so why the hell should I bring it back up? Yeah, I’m an ass. Fuck you. After he told me that, he fucking dropped the huge bomb on me. He told me he was going through this whole regression thing. He wanted to remember it… remember it all. I was pissed to say the least. Why the fuck would he want to do that? Why in the hell would he want to do that… especially since he was doing it without someone there to tell him if he was remembering it right or not? He should have at least had Daphne there with him. Of course he knew. He knew that I wouldn’t like it, and I sure as hell don’t like it to this day. Hell, look at what happened when he went and did something on his own. When he tried to be a man. The damn little shit. I wonder why I even put up with him at times. His whole ‘I think that it’s time for me to stand-up and take control of my life,’ shit only angered me even more. He kept going on and on about how he was some sort of ‘charity case’, and blame in the whole thing. I flat out told him that we would never be able to agree on that… never. I know that I am at least partly to blame for what happened. Hell, I was the one who outted him at school that first day. How the hell could he tell me that I had no blame at all? What a bunch of bullshit. “I’m glad that you came, Brian. It was good to see you. But you know how I’m needing things to be. Think about it. Whether we’re friends or lovers, it has to be because it’s what we both want. It has to be because of something besides guilt. I won’t deal with that anymore. I’m tired.” I remember sitting there long after he had left. I was pissed. Totally and absolutely pissed. How fucking dare he say that shit to me. I was ready to just pack my bags and leave his sorry ass here. Forget all about him. I don’t even know what stopped me, but something did. Something stopped me from getting in a taxi. So as I went back to my room, I pulled out a pen and paper and went about putting all that shit that was going through my mind down on paper. I told him everything … well almost everything that I had going through my head. The little shit. ‘He was a liability?’ What the fuck was that shit? It was a couple of days later when I found myself sitting back at that same spot on the beach. I had no idea if he would come, or not, but I had to be there. I had to try and see if he had thought about what I had said. I had told him to call, but he never did. I can’t say though that I was surprised that he was there at the beach. We talked, for one of the first times since we had been together. We started to clear up some of the shit that we had pushed off to the side for so long. Of course I corrected him on some of his bullshit thinking. ‘Charity case’. Twat. I may not know a lot about relationships, but I know enough that when one is weak the other compensates for the other’s fault. Hence, Justin didn’t have money, I do… should have been end of story. Yeah right. His getting his own place, is just another moment of him shoving that in my face. Just another way that he’s denying it at all. His moving into Daphne’s… ‘being a man’ is just a huge slap in the face to me. Yeah, he doesn’t realize it, but it’s true. Justin snaps me out of the past, but dropping a box on the floor beside bed. “Are you going to help, or just sit there all day?” He asks me with a small smile on his face. Looking up at him, I just lean back on the bed that I somehow managed to squeeze my long body into. Christ, this bed is going to be the first to go. He better not expect me to fuck him in this thing. I’d never be able to walk again. “You want to be a man, you can do it all by yourself.” “Fucker,” he tells me throwing a pillow in my face. I pulled the damn thing off and shoved it behind my head. “You are such and ass at times. I don’t know why I put up with you.” “It’s because of my wonderful personality.” I tell him relaxing as much as I can in this piece of shit. I’ll just let him do the shit by himself, since he wants to be his OWN man. He wanted it… well he’ll find out sooner or later that being grown up isn’t as fun as he’d like to think it is. Hell, if I had someone who was willing to take care of me when I was his age… someone who cared for me, then I might have jumped at the chance. Then again, maybe not. I don’t know if I’d take it or not, now that I think about it. So maybe I’m not the best one to tell him what to do. Maybe I would do the exact same thing that he is. I mean, my life was shit growing up, no doubt about that. Living with the Warden and dear ol’ Jack wasn’t a walk in the park, but I can honestly say that at least I knew they didn’t want me. Justin had a good life growing up. He had the typical ‘high-class’ life that I had craved while growing up. He had the life that many of the people I hung out with wanted. The whole white picket fence, and shit like that. WASP, just like Lindsey. I guess they prove that it’s not all fun and games in that type of life. Being the child of the white-collar worker isn’t as great as we all wanted to believe. Of course, I don’t have any idea how a father could do what Craig did to Justin. Jack may have been shit, but I knew where I stood. He only touched me to beat the shit out of me. He didn’t pretend to be anything but a piece of shit. Unlike Craig, who pretended to be a loving father, one who wanted his son to be the best in everything, all the while destroying Justin. You don’t touch your kid that way. You don’t do to a kid what he did to Justin. I remember when I was completely ignorant to the whole thing. Hell, Mark – Justin’s shrink over there – told me that there was more going on then I realized. He told me that I would have to be there for Justin when he was ready. There’s that part of me that knew… I just knew, but I didn’t want to admit it. There was no way that something like THAT could have happened to him. No way in hell. Once again… I was so fucking wrong. When he finally admitted it to me, that night before I left – I don’t know what I was thinking. I remember asking him about those sketches. I remember wondering what could be bothering him. All I knew was whatever was bothering him, that damn sketchbook held the answers. I left him there on the bed, the night before I was going to leave, and for some reason, I just had to look at those pictures again. I don’t know what it was about them… what kept drawing me to them, but it did. It was almost like it was screaming at me to figure it out. He was upset of course when he found me sitting there with it, yet again, but I just couldn’t let it go. I had to know what was really going on before I got on that plane. He went drama princess on me of course – yelling, screaming, threatening to leave… the whole nine fucking yards. But I wasn’t going to drop this. I wasn’t going to get on that damn plane until I knew the truth. “Then fucking explain to me what the fuck is going on!” I remember yelling at him as I grabbed his arm. I wasn’t going to drop it, I wouldn’t let him hide behind it. I knew we had come too damn far, worked too damn much to let this ruin whatever we were. “I’m sure it can’t be as bad as what is going through my mind, Justin.” I remember telling him. And fuck if I had known then… Maybe my thoughts were right on target. I just didn’t want to believe it. He told me that his therapy with Mark had brought something up… something that he didn’t remember until now. Now, I had read about this regression therapy, but I didn’t believe it. One, why would someone do that? And two… it’s literally having someone go into your head and opening all the damn doors that are shut for a reason. I believe that the reason why Justin isn’t able to remember the Prom is because he just can’t deal with it right now. It’s our body’s way of protecting us. I believe that. So why the fuck would we want to have someone open a damn door that shouldn’t be open? When our body is telling us that we won’t be able to handle it. But he kept avoiding telling me. He was hurting, that much I could tell. And if there’s one thing that I can’t stand is him hurting. For any reason. I wanted to do something, but he wouldn’t let me. So I kept pushing, and pushing. Almost forcing him to tell me. Of course he wouldn’t let it slide completely. The little shit. “Fine, but if I’m going to do this.. you have to promise me some things first.” He started on his list of rules. I don’t know what it is with him and rules, but like the first set, I had all intention of keeping them. If only he would just spit it out. So I agreed to keep my mouth shut until he finished. I agreed to not comfort him. I agreed to still get on the plane the next day. I figured what the hell, those shouldn’t be too hard. Right? But when he asked me to not seek revenge… I knew that the shit had hit the fan. Something BIG was up. I promised, albeit reluctantly. But I promised none the less. Well at least until I found out what the hell he was talking about. So he started to talk. He talked about his dad, and some shit about how he finally knew why his dad had a huge problem with him being gay. To say I was completely lost is an understatement. But the farther he got in his explanation, the harder it was for him to say the words. So he stopped talking and just threw his sketchbook at me. “Those pictures are real… at least I think they are. My da… Craig used to come into my room after Mom was asleep. That book shows what I remember… if it’s true. That’s what he … what I think he did. That’s what I can’t say.” I remember sitting on that damn bed, looking at the sketches of a small boy, sitting in a dark room. A room like any child would have, or at least one that I pictured a child of his statue would have. But it was the look in the boy’s eyes. The way the boy curled in around himself… holding himself tight. It was the light from the door opening shining in on the young boys face. It was the look in the older man’s eyes… I felt sick. And those weren’t the worst pictures either. With every page I turned I could feel what Justin was feeling. I was repulsed, sick, and damn fucking pissed. I wanted to hurt… no fucking KILL Craig Taylor for what he had done. All I wanted to do was help Justin. I didn’t know what I could do, but I was going to be dammed if I didn’t do SOMETHING! “No one can understand… no one knows. Hell I don’t understand! I don’t understand how the one person who I trusted with my life… who I loved unconditionally could do that! I don’t understand how I could forget something as important as him fucking molesting me! How could I try so hard to get him to accept me when he did that to me?!” Just hearing him say the words… the words that fucking school teachers, psychologists and fuck all came up with for that act… it killed a small part of me. It really did. Molest. Such a small word for such a fucked up, shit all act. A part of me could understand Justin’s reluctance to want to talk about it. I could understand, because I don’t really talk about what Jack did to me. And that was NOTHING compared to what that asshole Craig did to Justin. Nothing! I had never broken a promise before in my life, but I knew. I just fucking knew. I knew, as I held Justin crying in my arms that night – I fucking knew that there was one promise I couldn’t keep. I couldn’t stay out of it. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let Craig Taylor live another day of his life, without knowing what a fuck-up he was. I wasn’t going to let Justin live with the thought that Dear ol’ dad could be doing the same thing to his sister. I wasn’t going to live another day without making Craig Taylor pay… and pay big. He owed Justin that. He owed Justin a hell of a lot more than what I plan on doing to him. And I have every intention of making that shit pay. Cause I don’t have the answer that Justin is looking for, and it tears me up inside. I can’t tell him why. “Well, I think that’s everything.” Justin told me as he come to lay down beside me on the small bed. “I’m fucking exhausted.” I pull Justin to me, and run my hand up and down his back. “So what now?” I ask him. That’s’ something that I guess has been bothering me. I have no idea what was going to happen now. I have no idea where we were going to go from here. Justin placed his head on my chest and grabbed my hand. I just watched him as he linked his fingers with mine. It still amazes me, he still amazes me. I think back to our shared past, and I still can’t believe that we’re still together. Granted I was kicking and screaming the entire way, but for some reason, I don’t mind. I feel content, I guess that’s what you would call it. I like having him around. A part of me always did. From that first night that I brought him home and fucked him, I knew that there was something about him. Something that was different. I knew he was different. It has never been easy between us, but for some reason, we’ve worked through it. We’re still together. Me, the one who never believed in love or boyfriends has had one for the past three years. Fuck! Not that I’m complaining. Well not much really. I guess I lucked out – or got lucky whichever way you look at it – in finding Justin. We compliment each other in so many ways. Life with Justin is never boring. That’s for damn sure. I hear Justin take a deep sigh. “School starts back up next week. I have five classes scheduled. Plus I have to get with Deb about my job at the Diner. I need to see if I still have a job, or if I have to look for another one. Plus I have to talk to Michael about Rage.” Justin informed me. I could almost see him mentally counting them off in his head. “I should try and find another therapist, but I don’t know about that yet.” “You should.” I tell him gripping his hand tighter in mine. “You have a lot of shit going on. You should be able to talk to someone about it. Especially now that you’ve talked to your mom and … Craig.” I tell him using his ‘father’s’ real name. Neither one of us will call him anything but that. Well anything nice that is. “Yeah, maybe.” He says as he curls himself closer to me. It pains me that he needs the constant closeness. He won’t say anything, but I can tell that he needs something – he needs to feel connected to something… someone. I’m just grateful that it’s me he’s turning to. Of course he knew what I did when I came back the first time from seeing him over in Italy… I don’t even want to know. I had never broken a promise before in my life… I had always prided myself on keeping my word. It was the one thing everyone could count on – my almost brutal honesty and my word. But after seeing Justin break down the night before I left, I knew that it was one promise I wouldn’t be able to keep. So when I got off the plane, I told myself that I would just wait and see. I didn’t want to break my word, but I also know myself well enough to know that I never should have said yes to Justin. I told myself that the promise was made under duress; since I didn’t have all the facts at the time I made it. I couldn’t be held responsible if I just happened to be at the same place at the same time as that asshole. Sounds good right? I thought so. I knew however, that Justin wouldn’t buy that argument. So I didn’t tell him. It had taken me two days before I finally broke down and decided that a little confrontation was what I needed to do. Not for Justin, but for myself. Okay, so it was for Justin. I didn’t want that asshole anywhere near Justin. Plus I wanted to see for myself – ease my own mind – how he was treating Molly. See even though she is a little annoying, I like the twerp. She’s Justin’s sister, and she’s a hell of a lot better than Claire. I was just afraid that if he had done this to Justin, that he would try something with her. I knew that no one else would do a damn thing about it. Justin – as much as I know he would want to do something, as much as I care about him – I know that he won’t be able to deal with that crap after he comes face to face with Craig. No, knowing Justin the way I do… he wouldn’t be able to say much of anything after he ‘confronts’ Craig about what he remembers. Justin would not be able to handle much of anything – he’d shut down. Yeah, he’d be pissed, but it would be a complete shock to his system. So, I did the only thing that could be done. I got into the ‘Vette, and started to follow the fucker around. I can tell you where he eats for lunch, where he goes to fuck his secretary, which sex club he goes to late at night when his live-in lover is asleep. The fucker. And everyone says that I’m an asshole. Craig Taylor is the epitome of ‘right’… bullfuckingshit. I did this for a week, mind you, and I decided it was time to have a little talk with the fucker. Of course talking to Justin that day made my decision to move forward a hell of a lot easier. That was one of the most painful conversations I had ever had with him. Mainly, because I couldn’t touch him, hold him. He was so fucking far away and hurting so much. I wanted to rip Craig Taylor’s nuts off and shove them so far down his throat so I could pull them out his ass. Death was too good for him. “Hey, how’s sunshiny Italy?” I asked him when I picked up the phone. “It’s alright, I guess. Just finishing up the last of my projects. Keeping busy, you know.” He told me, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. “I… I can’t stop thinking about it, Bri.” I could hear the pain in his voice and I cursed the very existence of ‘Daddy Taylor’. “Did you remember something else?” I asked him. I knew better than try to tell him to forget it. I did that with the bashing, and I’m seeing how much of a mistake that was now. I see how much him NOT talking about that night has hurt him. Just look at why we even separated, and why things are so messed up between us now. Yeah, things are good, but Justin is feeling he needs to ‘take care of himself’. He thinks that he can’t depend on others to take care of him – understand him. So in a way I can understand. I’ve been there myself. We are all partly to blame for his current idea on what he needs to do. “Some.” I hear Justin say, and all I want to do is hold him close to me… reach across the fucking ocean and have him there in the loft, safe and sound. “But, I don’t want to think about it.” “Justin,” I warn him. As I said… I couldn’t let him NOT think about it. I had to get him to open up, and let it out. No matter what it did to me, he had to get it all out before it destroyed him. “Tell me.” I could almost hear Justin argue with himself on whether or not he should tell me. I could hear his breathing, and I remember wanting to reach across the phone and hold him close to me. I didn’t know what I could do, but I knew that I wanted to do SOMEDAMNTHING to try and help him. “I remember one night. I don’t know, I was maybe… five, six. I don’t remember really. But I remember we had just come back from this dinner or something at the country club.” I heard Justin laugh slightly, I knew he was shaking his head. “I remember that there was some talk about me not being in sports, and dad kept trying to get me to try out for the club’s baseball team or something.” I tried to break the ice a little, cause I knew where this was going. I just knew. “I could just see you out there in those tight little pants. You’re bubble butt sticking out as you bend to pick up the ball.” ”Yeah, I’m sure that would get some notice.” He said with a small laugh. “I might have gotten laid a little sooner than 17.” “But it wouldn’t have been as good.” I tell him. And it’s true… at least that’s what my ego says. I may pretend that I don’t remember that night, but what I do remember… fuck, it was hot. It was that night that made me want more. My little nympho. “So true.” I hear him. He sighs and lets it out slowly. “Anyway, when we got home, mom and dad started arguing. Mom kept telling him that it was okay, that just because I wasn’t in sports it didn’t mean anything. I had my art and they should be encouraging it. He kept going on and on about how it wasn’t normal.” I could only shake my head. The whole ‘Justin isn’t normal’ crap started early. It’s something that I had never understood, you know. I don’t understand why someone would believe that you are only a man if you play sports. How many men are there who turn out to be some very successful ‘straight’ man without having to play sports while growing up? A hell of a lot, I’m sure. “I went up to my room, I guess I didn’t want to hear them fight over me. I don’t really know. Maybe they told me to go up to bed. I was asleep when he came that night. He told me that I would be a man, that he wouldn’t let me embarrass him in front of his friends. He wasn’t going to have a sissy little faggot.” He laughed, the pain etched in his voice. Justin told me how his father went on to ‘show him’ how to be a man that night. And fuck all if I didn’t want to have Craig Taylor in front of me so I could show him what being a man was. The thought of that asshole touching Justin, touching him in ways that I know he now will wither in ecstasy.. begging me to make him cum. He had made something so wonderful, so fucking hot, and turned it into something completely disgusting. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to show him what it was to be a man, and be embarrassed. If I could do to him what he did to Justin… Nahh. I don’t want to catch something. So what’s a man supposed to do? What is a father supposed to do, when he finds out that a child is victimized? What do I do when I find out that the one person I can be with has been treated like this? Well the only thing I can do… confront the fucker who hurt that person. I would do the same if it was Mikey, or Lindsey, or Gus. Hell, I might even do it if it was Ted… well maybe not. The point is when I made the promise, I didn’t have all the details, so I can’t be held responsible for any action that I may do. Right? That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. That’s all I can say. So after following the fucker around for a while, I finally decided it was time. So when he was at that little club, bar… whatever, I knew it was my chance. If anyone ever asked me if I went to a straight strip club, I would deny it until the day I die. Me, King of Liberty fucking Avenue at a titty bar. I’d never live it down. The things people do for… whatever you call what I feel for Justin. Love? I don’t know, but it’s something that makes me do stupid shit. As I made my way over to the table where dear ol’ Craig was sitting at, I tried not to vomit. Just being in a place like this makes me so glad that I like dick. I can honestly say that I had never had so many women try to get into my pants as I did just walking the few feet over to that table. It’s disgusting. Anyway, when I reach the table, I see Craig talking with a group of his ‘friends’, and I just stand there behind him. The idiot didn’t even know that something was wrong. He never once realized that his friends had stopped laughing at whatever he passes as a joke. Can we say stupid? I didn’t even blink as I picked him up and slammed him down on top of the table face first. I put my forearm on his neck, while the other one is twisting his arm behind his back. I remember ignoring the screams from everyone in the damn place, cause I didn’t really care. Let them call the cops. What did I care at that moment? “You stupid piece of shit.” I hissed into his ear. He kept trying to break free, cursing at me – damming me to hell and all that shit, but I didn’t even hear him. “You think you got away with it, don’t you? You think that Justin forgot about it? How you used to come into his room when he was a little boy? How you used to play little games with him? You touch me, I’ll touch you. I will show you how to be a man. Real men do what their daddy’s tell them. I will show you how to please someone, how someone should please you. It’s what a man should know.” I could almost see the shocked faces on the others at the table. Luckily for them, none of them tried to stop me. I had everyone’s attention in the damn place, and I was going to let them all know what type of man they were associating with. “For years, you played your little game. You told him that that’s what little boys should do for their daddy’s. Especially if they loved them. Am I close? Do your friends know that you’re a child molester? Do they let you near their children? Do you show your affection for Molly the way you did Justin?” I finally let the fucker up, and he looked right at me. I feel a little bit of satisfaction at the looks he was getting from his friends. “You’re lying. You don’t know a thing. I never touched Justin. I don’t know what lies you have been telling him, or what you made him believe, but you don’t know me. You’re the pedophile. You’re the disgusting piece of shit.” I smile slightly and shake my head. “Justin was at least of age when I fucked him. I didn’t take advantage of him, or do anything to him that he didn’t want done. You on the other hand… well touching a child, doing what you did.” I moved closer to him, got right in his face. “I would never do to my son, what you did to yours. I would NEVER even THINK about something like that. You call me a pedophile, but at least I’m not a sorry sack of shit like you.” With that I turned away and left that ‘fine’ establishment. I think my work there was done… I only wish I had been a fly on the wall after that. I sure as hell embarrassed him this time. Only it wasn’t Justin who embarrassed him. Fucker! “What are you thinking about?” Justin asks me from his spot on my chest. I look down at his blue eyes as they bear into my soul. It’s like he can read my thoughts, and frankly that scares the shit out of me. Granted not as much as before, but it’s still scary knowing that someone can tell when you’re full of shit or not. “Just thinking about stuff.” I tell him. There is no way in hell I’m going to tell him that I saw Craig. That’s one secret I will never tell. Justin only nods, knowing that I don’t want to talk about it. That’s the thing, I think I like the most about him. He knows when to drop something and when to push. Granted it may not always be what I think it should be, but it’s nice in a way. I don’t have to explain myself to him. He always knows what’s going on. How? I have no idea, but he does. “Lindsey called yesterday.” I tell him, completely changing the subject. Or maybe not. Maybe – for me at least – finding out what an ass Craig Taylor is as a father. Maybe I realize what type of father I want to be to Gus. I never want my son to feel the way about me that ether I felt for Jack, or Justin feels about Craig. Just maybe I want to be a good father. Someone should in our fucked up family. “Her and Mel wanted to go out tonight, and wanted to know if I could watch Gus for the weekend. So what do you say? Feel up to helping me watch the kid?” Justin smiled – the first real smile I have seen on his lips since this whole mess started. God, I have missed that smile. “A weekend with you and Gus? I don’t know… I just moved in here… I really should…” I didn’t let him finish, I just began to attack his mouth. I know he’ll stay with me this weekend. Of that I have no doubt. Justin loves Gus, and is a much better father than I am that’s for sure. He would do anything for that kid. I may not be the best damn father in the world, but I know that I’m a hell of a lot better than Craig Taylor or Jack Kinney. It’s almost funny how – if you really think about it – both Justin and I are so fucked up in the ‘parent’ department, but yet we’re fathers to Gus. And yes… Justin is Gus’ other dad. It may not be official or any of that shit – may never be – but he is. In my mind he is. He’s cared for Gus, been there for my son. He’s been a father to Gus in everyway that counts. Love. Justin loves Gus, and Gus sure as fuck loves Justin. It’s a hell of a lot more then either one of us had gotten from our own old man. It amazes me that despite our fucked up pasts, we can still be together. Dare I say love? Hell, I don’t know. I know I have never felt this way about someone before, and I don’t ever want him to leave again. But is it love? You tell me. All I know is that I’m going to be there for him when and if he needs me. That’s the best I can do. So many people have let him down, let me down. Maybe we need to be there for each other. Help each other feel something besides complete emptiness. Feel something besides worthlessness. Maybe that’s love. If it is… I know I don’t want to change it. If that’s love… then I’m in love with Justin. More than anyone else in my life. If it’s not… then let me be dammed, like my mother believes I am. And in my opinion, cause you know it’s the only one that really maters – it’s jackasses like Craig and Jack who belong there. Cause all I know… I’m having a hell of a great time trying to figure it out. I wonder if I could go there and make sure they suffer for all eternity. Justin and I can be in charge of hell. Yeah, that sounds right for some reason. Why does hell seem so much like heaven? Fuck if I know, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing. So for a week we had a great time. Neither one of us brought up any of that shit. You can say that we ignored it, that we were in denial, but it worked for us. One fucking week was all we got before all hell broke loose. One week before real life came and slapped the shit out of us. Why can’t we ever get a damn break? Can anyone explain that to me? Is it too much to ask? One week of total bliss and ignorance came to a halt when we were lounging around one day. It was Sunday. Our damn day to just sit and watch TV. You know, normal shit. Normally we don’t answer the door, or the phone, but for some reason it seemed like we just had to answer it. Both of them actually. The knock at the door came at the same time as the phone started ringing. Something just told me to take Justin and run. Hide him from all of this shit. Fear started to build deep within me – the same fear I had when I looked into my rear view mirror and spotted the fucker Hobbs coming up behind Justin. Justin only shrugged and got up from the couch handing me the phone as he walked over to the door. I sat there staring at the phone like it would bite me, like whatever was on the other side would completely destroy us. Shaking off those thoughts, I pressed the button on the damn thing and put it to my ear. “Yeah?” I didn’t want to be nice. I didn’t have to dammit. Everyone knew not to bother me on Sundays… or at least they should by now. “Brian, is Justin there? I need to talk to him now.” Daphne’s voice came across. She sounded panicked, and immediately my senses were on overload. “His dad came by here looking for him. I didn’t tell him where he was, but he’s determined to talk to Justin.” I turned toward the door. Sure as fuck, at the door was none other than Craig Taylor himself. “Craig.” Justin said, and I saw him try to calm his nerves. His muscles were tight, and I hung up the phone to stand beside him. I knew that this wouldn’t be pretty, and if we all got out of this alive it would be amazing. A damn fucking miracle. Craig looked from me to Justin, hate shinning in his eyes. Hate and disgust. Dammit! Hadn’t Justin had enough hate in his life? Hadn’t he suffered enough from that shit? Craig immediately turned on me, and pushed me when I wouldn’t let him in. Yeah, like I would let that fucker into MY home. No way in hell. Not even over my dead body. “You! You filled his mind with lies. You turned him against his family!” he started yelling. I only stood there in front of Justin. I guess there was that part of me that wanted to protect him from the hate… from the pain I knew this would eat away at him. Craig turned onto Justin and his eyes narrowed. “You want to destroy us? Is that it? This asshole is turning you against your family. You have made a mockery of us. You know how it was, Justin. You know that his lies aren’t true. How can you do this to us?” See the thing about Justin that not many people know is that the kid has a temper. I’ve been subjected to it more times than not, in all honesty. I don’t know what it is, but he has this knack at making you feel about two inches tall. He will bring in all the shit you did and shove it in your face. He has a memory like an elephant, and God forbid if you forgot to put the coffee cup in the dishwasher like 10 years ago. Nothing is forbidden when he gets angry. Everyone thinks that he’s this little angel. Ha! They don’t know him very well. The damn kid’s a fucking rotwiller, and pit-bull mix. He latches on and won’t let go. You’ll find yourself in complete shreds before you even know what hit you. That’s Justin. “I’m destroying you? I’ve turned against the family? Fuck you! You’re the one who did it … Dad.” I could hear the venom in his voice at the one word. It was poisonous to us… like acid. “You are the one who destroyed us, you’re the one who destroyed me! How dare you fucking come into MY home … into my lover’s home and say anything!” I placed my hand on his shoulder, and I was grateful in a way that he didn’t shake it off. I think he knew what my intention was, and thank God he understood. I was trying to stop him. Not that I could even if I wanted to. No, I wanted to let him know that I was there if he needed me. He’s strong, but I know that this meeting alone will tear at him from the inside out. His last meeting with his father didn’t turn out well… his father hadn’t him say a word, but I saw the affect it had on him. Hell, how could I not? I was the one who held him after his meeting with this asshole last time. I was the one who’s shoulder he cried on. I was the one who watched as his cherished memories of a happy childhood shattered at his feet. ME! The last time… the last time he didn’t want to feel anything. I remember looking at him when he came back. I knew immediately what he had done, even though I told him not to. I had told him to wait for me… to let me go with him, but the little shit didn’t. Are we surprised? I’m not. He never listens. I knew immediately where he went when he rushed into the bathroom and the shower started. I knew right away how the confrontation went. So I did the only thing I knew how to make it better… I just held him as he began to shake. The hot water couldn’t warm him up… couldn’t take away the cold that had seeped into his very soul. “You know, there was a part of me that wished – fucking prayed that it wasn’t true. A part of me that didn’t want to believe that he could do that… I’m such a fool. Wanting to believe something… wanting to believe that the father I thought I knew wasn’t some sick fucking bastard.” The pain I heard in his voice made me hate the fucker even more. And I didn’t think that that was possible, but I found out that I could. I could almost feel the anxiety attack start to take hold of his body, so I started to massage his neck, wanting to stop it before it started. “He never once admitted it… but you could tell. The look in his eyes. Like a deer caught in the headlights… then switching between guilt and anger. Although he denied it – rather quickly I might add.” He laughed at that. I don’t know how he could laugh at it… but he did. Yeah, death was too good for Craig Taylor. “I could tell. His words were lies… he really did do it.” Justin turned around and I swear that my heart stopped in my chest, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. His eyes. The pain and hurt – hell the complete and total destruction – almost killed me. “The thing is… he’s not sorry about it. That’s what scares me. He’s not sorry he did that to me, he’s sorry he got caught. He’s sorry that I’m gay… that I’m not like him. He’s sorry that I am not the ‘perfect son’. Fucking asshole!” I could only wrap my arms around him and hold him close as he tried to bury himself in me. As his tears fell, I wanted to rip myself open and pull him into me so that he would never be hurt again. It’s impossible, but I wanted to. “Everything I believed… my whole life was a fucking lie, Brian. I don’t understand. It was all just one big fat fucking lie… and I don’t know why.” I have no idea what I would… could say to help him come to terms with this whole mess. What I’m sure would shock the hell out of everyone is that even though I had taken him to bed after that… we just slept. Okay, so I held him as he fell asleep in my arms. It wasn’t about sex, it was about holding each other afloat. It was about keeping each other from drowning in self pity and whatnot. Feeling connected to each other, despite the fact that there is flesh separating us. Now, here the fucker was – once again trying to destroy what sanity that Justin has. Trying to destroy the damn peace that we had this past week. Death is entirely too good for him. How much flesh can he take? How much pain can one person endure? Justin, however, is giving as well as he can take. It’s almost like someone lit a fire under him. I can feel the tension beneath his clothes, as if he was ready to strike. At this moment, Justin reminds me of some wounded animal. “The thing is … Dad. You have no fucking idea who I am. You have no clue what I have done for the family. You’re the one who has destroyed us. YOU! You’re the one who raped me. I couldn’t do a damn thing!” I kept my hand on his shoulder, the last thing we needed was a fist fight going on in my living room. Of course, there is no doubt in my mind that I might be the one who throws the first punch, but I’ll at least pretend to be the good citizen and try. Me… a good citizen. What a fucking joke. “He is the one who’s been telling you lies, Justin. You know me. How can you hurt your family like this?” Craig asked Justin stepping into the loft a little. Immediately I move forward a step or two to block him. I don’t want that piece of shit to taint my home. Fuck that shit. Justin pulled on my arm, and looked at me. I could see the statement in his eyes. He practically was begging me to let him handle this on his own. Last time I had seen that look it was when we had seen that fucker Hobbs on the street outside of Woodys. So can you understand why I might be reluctant to let him handle this on his own? Justin always feels he has to take care of things alone. His tuition… Hobbs, his father… fuck practically everything. I don’t know a damn thing in that list that has turned out good. Somehow his ‘fix’ ends up making things worse. Justin has a habit of making some very bad decisions. Hell, if I wasn’t there to point them out to him, to try and work it out for him, then he’d be fucked up even more… he might even be dead. I don’t think that he will ever realize that, but I’ll just do what I have to, and make things right. It’s the least I can do. Of course I won’t let him know I’m doing it. He’d throw a fit. “Just get out. Get out of my home. I don’t ever want to see you again, I don’t ever want to hear about you. Ever. Do you hear me? Ever.” Justin quietly stated. Even though his voice was quiet you could hear the pain and anger hidden beneath the surface. You could hear the threat that he was giving. I saw Craig turn to leave, and I can’t say that I’m sorry. I don’t want the man contaminating the loft. “By the way,” Justin began. I was sort of surprised, I had honestly thought he was done with the whole mess. I saw the asshole turn around and the hate in his eyes bore into me. Figures he would blame me. I’m the bad one… fuck that. “If I ever find out that you touched Molly. If I ever hear that you tried to do to her what you did to me… You’ll find out just how much of a man I am. I will NOT hesitate. I won’t feel sorry.” I wasn’t sure exactly what Justin meant. Did he mean that he would hurt Craig, or that he would kill him? In all truthfulness, I am not sure even I want to know. Luckily for Craig, he knew well enough to leave it all alone. Okay, I’ll admit it… Justin scares me sometimes. He really does. Why, you ask? Simple, he doesn’t know how to cope. He doesn’t realize where his strength lies… he doesn’t know where to vent his anger. He just lashes out. I know, I’m one to talk… I’ve never been good at relieving stress, or anger. Where Justin lashes out, I internalize. Oh he tries to just internalize things, I can tell. The only problem with that is, he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to let things go. Hell, look at me. He got me didn’t he? But it’s the bad shit. Hobbs, his father… Ethan, hell, even me. Justin doesn’t talk about things… he pretends that everything is okay. He just doesn’t know what to do with it once he puts it ‘in it’s place’. He lets it fester until he can’t even think straight. He lets it consume him. I just don’t know what to do to help him, to make him understand that because of who he is… he can’t do that. He’s brave as fuck – Justin is. He’s not afraid to show people who he is… he’s not ashamed. He’ll shove it in your face, and not even think of the consequences. Hobbs outside Woody’s that night so long ago comes to mind. Justin just didn’t think of the consequences of that, and look how that turned out. Kip is another. He could have been seriously hurt, fucked it all up for the both of us. In that case he got lucky… I just don’t know how long it will last. His luck I mean. The other problem I see? Justin has always been open. He always wore his heart on his sleeve – his emotions, thoughts, so on – were always right there for everyone to see. Yeah, a part of me is happy that he’s gotten over that, but the other part… He’s just not complete. I don’t know if he ever will be. I know that his past made him who he is. He came from a loving family, rich family. He was everything that I hated as a child. We always – the guys and I – would joke about Justin’s country-club upbringing. Hell, he showed us all up when we were prepping Mikey for his date with the dear ol’ doc. But now… hell now I know that it wasn’t all that hallmark shit. Justin turns around and gives me a weak smile after the door closes. He’s hurting, no doubt about that. I only wish I knew what to say, what to do. Since nothing even close comes to mind to fix this… I do the only thing I know. “Come here.” I tell him. Simple, easy. So what? Okay, I’m an asshole. What do you expect? So sex is the only thing I can think of that might ease the tension in him. I’m not one for talking, never have never will. So I fall back on what I do know. Make him feel something – hell anything – besides pain, besides betrayal. It’s what I do, what I know. Lucky for the both of us, it works. The only down side… is that it is only temporary. If I could find a way to keep the sex up 24/7 and still make a living… I would. I sure a fuck wouldn’t complain about it. But it’s impossible. So we’ll deal, as we always do. Deal with the shit later. Right now… he needs something that only I can give him. And I’m not being egotistical about it… I’m being truthful. Justin and I both… we get things from each other that we can’t get anywhere else. I learned that. I learned that life is better when he’s around. Sex sure as fuck is better. No one can make me feel the way Justin does. No one can do the things that Justin can. So do I worry about him? Hell, the fuck yes. He will try and conquer the world… stand up for what he believes in, but he just doesn’t know how to deal with all the shit after it. Not that what his dad did to him was his fault, it wasn’t. But he stands there and acts like it isn’t killing him, that it isn’t just ripping him apart at the seams. How do I fix things? How do I get him the help he needs when I’m so against that type of shit? Yeah, I’ll just tell him to go see a shrink. I can hear his response now… ‘fuck no!’ He would say that shit about how I would never go, and I think that they are just overprices jackasses who don’t know a damn thing about anything. Which in a way is true. I don’t believe that they can really help anyone. All they do is sit behind their desks or whatever and make YOU work through your own shit. Oh well that and they like to give you drugs. Yeah, like that does any good. Trust me I know all about that type of shit. So I am the LAST person who should be preaching about how drugs do nothing to help you. Me? Fuck that. Just like sex… it’s a temporary fix at best. Despite what everyone thinks, I can’t fix everything… I don’t believe I can. They all think that I’m some sort of fucking god or something. That all I have to do is wave my magic fucking wand and everything is better. Hell, if that was true, my life would have been a lot different. But I’m not, and I can’t. If there is one thing I have learned is that there are times when someone needs to handle things themselves. They need to deal with shit without any outside interference. They need to feel like they accomplished something. Like they got past something that would have destroyed anyone else. Here’s the real deal. Justin feels like he has to be strong, that he can’t show weakness. I know this, and honestly, it’s part of what I … like about him, and it’s also the part that could destroy him. He thinks that he needs to be strong, partly because I’m such an emotional wreck. I know this, and we deal with it. I don’t think I can change, despite the fact that I’m trying to be a little more open about things. But you can’t just erase 30 years of shit… it’s not possible. So he’s trying to be strong for me. And it isn’t just for me. I can see it. He’s doing it for Deb, Emmett, Linds and Mel, Ted, Mikey… his sister, so on and so forth. It seems like he’s trying to be strong for every damn fag out there that isn’t. It’s bullshit, but that’s the way he acts at times. Maybe it’s our fault. Maybe our joking about him being the ‘poster child for gays’ was wrong. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to have taken it to heart. He hates to lose, to look weak. The little shit is worse than me. I have tried to teach him that a man knows when to ask for help, but he just won’t listen to it. He bitches that I won’t ask for help, and I want to be in charge, but he’s worse than me. He thinks it makes him weak… that it will make him look like a ‘kept-boy’. He knows I hate being called a sugar daddy, but I don’t look at this situation as that. He says that he wants to be partners, and he wants to be equal partners. But he very damn well can’t pay half of everything, so I don’t give a rat’s ass about paying for everything. When he’s rich and some famous painter in the future, he’ll pay me back. I’m looking forward to doing nothing and living off of his earnings. Hell, I think I would enjoy lapping in luxury, and not doing a damn thing. Did I just think that? Did I just go ahead and plan a future for us? Fuck, I am worse off than I thought. I know that I like Justin… more than I had ever liked anyone. I don’t know if it’s really love, or whatever, but I do know that I don’t want him to be gone. I like waking up with him every morning, I like sharing a bed with him. I know I was a mess when he wasn’t here. I like getting into debates about the oddest things, and have adult, informed conversation about current events and the market. So does that mean that I love him? If it does, than I guess I love him. See I can admit it, I’m not a total ass. I’m not totally emotionally crippled. Just don’t ever ask me to say it to his face. It’s one thing to admit it to myself, it’s another thing completely to give that power to someone else. To let someone have that type of hold over you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that. So call me an ass, he knows. He knows how I feel about him, and how I want him around. It’s the best I can do. Lucky for me he understands. He says he understands where he stands, and I know he does. Now the question comes in… where does he stand? Now there’s another thing… His mother. I don’t know what Justin would do about her. Personally, I would let her rot. I thought my mother was worthless in standing by with a bible in hand as Jack beat the shit out of me. His mother went and let Craig molest him. That is beyond anything I had ever … could ever imagine. I still can’t believe that she would sit there and basically call Justin a liar. With all of her WASP crap in full force, telling him that his ‘daddy’ would never do anything like that. I think Justin was right in telling her that if it was his sister that she would do something about it. But since it was Justin, a fag, it didn’t matter. Yeah, Jenn is an okay mother. She had stood up for him when he needed her in recent years, but she wasn’t there when he COULDN’T defend himself. Marching in Pride Parades, and making sure that he gets the help he needs – namely me – after the bashing doesn’t constitute a good mother. She wasn’t there for him when he really needed her, and now look how things turned out. Her and dear ol’ Joanie would get along great. Maybe they could start their own little group. Fucking bitches. So with all this shit… I’m left to deal with what remains of Justin. I am the one who has to help him pick up the pieces. ME! It’s not like anyone else would do it. Not Deb, not Linds, no one. Me. Question is… am I ready to deal with it? Can I actually be there for him when he needs me? I want to say yes, but I’m not 100% sure. I can’t make any guarantees. I do know that I HAVE to get him in to see someone. He needs someone to talk to, someone who has the ability to get him to open up. Especially since he won’t tell me anything – not since that night really. He’s been sealed-lip about the whole thing. I was amazed that I was able to get that much out of him to begin with, and now I can’t get anything else out of him. He has to talk to someone about it… since he won’t tell me shit. Blame him? No, never. I can’t. This is one thing that I know I can’t do. I can’t force him to trust me… either he does or he doesn’t. I can’t make him. So I have to grit my teeth, and force him to do something I know will hurt him. I only hope that it will end up helping him as well. I only hope it doesn’t destroy him… and us. Why the fuck can’t life be easy for once? “You have got to fucking be kidding me.” Justin yelled. I watched as he stood up from his spot on the couch in the loft, and I knew I had to try to come up with something. It had been two days since that asshole Craig came over, and Justin had been spending quite a bit of time over here. I had been thinking of a way to try and get him to go see someone about this shit. Finally when I mentioned it, when I thought he would be agreeable, he fucking blew up at me. And here I thought he would agree since he had been to see one over there in Europe. “Actually, no. I’m not kidding. And what the fuck is the problem? You didn’t have a problem seeing one over there in Italy.” I asked, putting my previous thoughts into words. Justin stared at me, and I swear that there is steam coming out of his ears. “That’s different.” I sat back in the chair, and looked at him. All I could do was roll my eyes. Of course… it’s different. It’s always fucking different when it’s your idea. Why do I do this shit to myself? Why do I put myself in these damn situations? “It’s different… how?” “You don’t understand. I went to see Mark to get my memories back. Well I have them now… I don’t need to see anyone anymore.” He explained, and in all honesty it made absolutely no fucking sense to me. I think he gets the idea that I think he’s full of shit cause he just raised his arms and dropped them to his side. See, two can play this little game, Sonnyboy. “Look, I don’t need someone to tell me I’m fucked up, okay? I already know that. My father’s an asshole, my mother… fuck who knows what’s up with her?. I am having a hard time coming to grips with it… I’m just overall, totally, and completely fucked up! See, I know this already. Why have someone sit there and tell me that it will take time to get past this, that I will get past this… when I already fucking know that!?” Running my hands over my face, I could only imagine that this is what my life will be like when Gus gets older. Oh I don’t know… say FIVE! Justin was acting like a little kid, and it was beginning to piss me off. “You’re going, and that’s the end of it.” Justin stared at me in disbelief. Like he actually thinks that I can’t make him go. Yeah right! What world does he live in? If I have to I will hog-tie him and dump his ass in the damn doctor’s office myself. I’ll even stay there to make sure he doesn’t leave. Maybe that’s the ticket. I think I just may have found the way to get him to go… the only scary part is that I actually have to be an active participant in this whole little drama. Like I’m not already? Fuck me. That was last night. When we could have been fucking our brains out… we were fighting. I can only guess that he’s pissed at me… that’s why he didn’t stay the night. Now, I’m standing in front of his and Daphne’s small fucking apartment, waiting for someone to get their asses (ass) out of bed and answer the door. When it does open, I see a blurry-eyed Daphne. “I don’t know what happened, but please get him out of here before I kill him.” She said opening the door. “He’s been in this really pissy mood all night long, and I’m about ready to strangle him.” Great. Just fucking great. I make my way over to his room and try the handle. “Justin, open the fucking door.” “Go away. I don’t want to see you right now.” I hear coming from inside the room. Well too bad, cause he’s getting his ass out of there, cause we have a fucking appointment downtown. Luckily, Daphne handed me a small screwdriver, and showed me how to get past the damn lock. Fuck… I never knew getting past some of these locks were this easy. Just pressing one little button on your side… and voila you’re in. “Brian! Daph! God!” “Get dressed… we have places to be.” I tell him throwing some clothes to him. I stand there and watch him start to get his pants on. I know that if I don’t get him to go, he won’t. He’s such a fucking drama queen that it’s unbelievable. Sweet, kind, cute, quiet Justin. HA! He has everyone fooled. Well everyone but me and Daphne, I guess. I have to practically drag him out of the damn apartment and out to the ‘Vette. He’s sulking like Gus does when he doesn’t get what he wants. And here I thought I was seeing an adult. I know that he doesn’t want to do this, I know all right? But dammit, he needs some help. When we get to the office, I have to pull him out of the car, and I just watch him as we make our way up in the elevator. “Will you stop, already? It’s not that bad.” “You did this without my approval, without my consent. How the fuck do you think I should feel, Brian? How would you feel if I ever did this to you?” he asks still sulking against the far wall of the elevator. The door opens and I follow him out of it and down the hall. “9:30 for Justin Taylor.” I tell the receptionist. I can see the look on her face, and I know exactly what she is thinking. She’s wondering how quickly she can call 911, cause if Justin’s posture is any indication, we might have a problem. We sit down in the waiting room to wait. “Look, I’ll be in there with you, and you know how much I want to do this. But it needs to be done.” I tell him. “You had no right, Brian.” He huffs. I can only roll my eyes and I look down at the magazine I picked up. It seems like hours before we get called back, and I just sit down in one of the chairs in front of the doctor. I had already filled them in that this wasn’t something that might be well received by the party, and that I would be there. The doctor… yes, a referral from my ex-trick – said that it would be up to Justin, ultimately, since he was the one who needed the help. Justin only sits there in a defensive posture, and I can already feel the headache coming on. “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t’ even want to be here.” He explains to the doctor. “I can’t help you if you don’t want to be here, Justin. If you want to leave I can’t stop you.” What the fuck!? Okay… now I’m paying good damn money for this, I am not going to let this fucker let him walk out. “But…I think that deep down you want to talk about whatever is bothering you. Don’t you? Don’t you want to get past this?” “Get past what? So my father molested me, my entire past is gone… my family, everything. I was bashed in the head with a baseball bat. I already covered this before with someone else… I’m fine with it. So if I can go…” Justin states as he begins to stand. “Justin.” I begin. The doc holds up his hand and stops me from saying anything. I have to literally bite my lip. “How about you tell me why you don’t need to talk to someone? Why do you think you don’t need to be here? Evidentially your lover thinks you need help. Why do you think that is?” I think I did good… I didn’t cringe at that word. Lover. I sit back in the chair and watch as Justin sits back down and shrugs. “Okay, look. I was seeing someone when I was over in Europe. I did regression therapy, and look where it got me. I went for one thing, and got something totally different in return. Why the hell do you think I would want to have someone else fuck with my head?!” He asked in a raised voice. And now I get the truth as to why he didn’t want to come here. I had never thought that he wouldn’t want to come because of his past experience with these type (types) of guys. They say ignorance is bliss, and Justin and I are just now finding out what that really means. I was ignorant enough to think that he just didn’t want to talk about it with me… and didn’t want to have someone else involved. I honestly thought that he just wanted to handle it on his own. I never thought that he would feel betrayed by shrinks. I can understand it… but it never registered. And Justin… he was ignorant to this whole mess. He didn’t know what his father did to him. He was happy in that bliss. Now, all that shit comes out, and he’s miserable. I turn my attention back to what he’s saying… this is something that I don’t want to miss. “Oh, and let’s not forget about the first shrink I saw, who wanted to ‘fix’ me of my ‘gayness’. Yeah, that was a classic. As for Brian… he thinks that everything needs to be fixed. He doesn’t understand that there are some things that can’t be fixed. So he has to try and interfere where he doesn’t belong, because everyone should be happy but him. Ask him about his psychological problems. If anyone is in need of a shrink it’s him.” Ouch. Can’t say that I didn’t deserve that one. “This isn’t about me.” I tell him looking right at him. “This is about you, and your inability to handle this. You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t see you get out of bed every fucking night, and just stare out the window for hours? You think that I don’t see you crying? That I don’t see the pain your in every fucking second of the day?” I lean forward in my chair to look him right in the eye. “Do you want to end up like me?” “What an unfeeling asshole?” He retorts. Little shit. I lean back and put my hands behind my head. “Guess it takes one to know one, doesn’t it, Sonnyboy?” “Justin?” the doc asks getting us back to the matter at hand. I don’t know who won that round, but I do take pleasure in the fact that I just proved to the doctor that Justin needs help. Justin showed that he was angry… and I can’t blame him, but he did show that he is NOT handling it as well as he likes to think he is. Justin takes a deep breath, and I can almost see the fight go right out of him. He knows I’m right, he knows that he needs help. It’s just getting him to accept it. I remember trying to get him to accept my paying for his college. I’m thrilled that he feels he has to take care of his own problems, cause I’ve got enough shit to deal with. I like people who can take care of themselves – it’s one of the things that attracted me to Justin in the first place… okay so it’s one of the things that kept me coming back. But he needs to learn that there are times when he doesn’t have to be strong, when he doesn’t have to take care of things on his own. “I don’t know what you can do. It’s not like you can erase it… make it not happen. It’s not like you can make everything all better, and give me my childhood back.” Justin quietly said from his seat. Hearing the slight defeat in his voice scares the hell out of me. I hate to think that THIS may have been the thing to break him. No… he’s stronger than this. I know he is. “You can’t fix it.” “I’m not here to fix things, Justin. That’s not my job. I want to help you come to terms with it. Maybe help you get some peace. That’s what I would like to do.” The doc explained. Here’s a question… why does Justin always feel that everyone is trying to fix things? He’s stuck on that damn word. He said that to me back in Europe, and it just keeps popping up. All I know is that I am getting so sick and fucking tired of this shit. I am getting tired of him thinking that he can’t rely on people, that he’s a liability to others. To me! Yeah… he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s MY pain in the ass. If I were honest with myself I would openly admit that I don’t mind it at all. So for the next 45 minutes, I just sit there. I sit there and listen. Justin’s still going on and on about how he doesn’t need to do this, how he just KNOWS that the guy can’t help him. I know I’m going to get shit for this in the coming days, but I’ll be damned if I sit there and let him tear himself up over this. I won’t let him be destroyed by this. And if he gets pissed at me, then so be it. I know what he needs, and I’m going to make sure he gets it. One way or the other. He’s completely silent as we walk out of the office, and I set up another appointment for him in a couple of days. By the time we reach the ‘vette, I’ve had it with his silent treatment. “Where to?” I ask, hoping that he will say something. Getting his responding shrug further pisses me off, so I figure what the hell. We’re going to the damn loft and he can blow up at me all he fucking wants. He can’t keep it all bottled up inside. I can’t let him become me. That’s why we get along so well, why we have lasted as long as we have. We compliment each other. Where I’m closed off, he isn’t… where I don’t talk, he does. We need to get that back cause I sure as hell can’t handle two uncommunicative assholes in this relationship. It will be gone before we even start. Once we get in and close the door to the loft, I head directly toward the refrigerator and grab some water. Handing him a bottle, I just stand there and look at him. “Go ahead.” “What?” “Don’t fucking ‘what’ me, you know what I’m talking about. You’re pissed, you think that I’m interfering… go ahead. I’m waiting.” I tell him. I just want to get this damn drama over with since I know that it will happen. Justin shrugs and takes off his jacket. “If you already know, then why should I say anything. Yes, I’m pissed. Yes, you had no right to interfere. So what do you want me to say?” “Can we just get this shit over with… I have other things to do.” I tell him as we both sit down on the couch. It’s almost like the damn great divide is between us. “Look, I’m not going to apologize for dragging your sorry ass over there. It was the right thing to do, and it needed to be done. So don’t expect me to be sorry about it, cause I’m not. Just get over it and we’ll move on from here.” Justin only held the bottle between his hands, and stared down at it. “It’s not so much that you felt you had to do this… there are arguments on both sides to that. So I’m not even going to go there. It’s the fact that you took it upon yourself without asking me. This is my life, Brian. My life, not yours. My problems… my … my fucking life! I thought we agreed that I would deal with this. My own way.” “Yeah, you’re doing a bang up job on that one.” I tell him. This argument… whatever is worthless. “If, as you say, we’re in a relationship,” I begin trying not to cringe at saying the word. Do I think that we’re in one? Yes, I do. What else can you call this… but admitting it? I don’t like putting a name to this between us, so I know I will cringe every fucking time. “If we’re in a relationship, then that means partners of said relationship – and correct me if I’m wrong – but it’s my understanding that they help each other out. They do what’s best for each other, even if the other person doesn’t always agree. Am I right?” I can see the struggle within Justin’s mind. He’s upset that I did this, but with me playing the ‘relationship’ and ‘partners’ card that just makes him swoon. What a couple of little words can do? Who would have ever thought that my life could have been a hell of a lot easier IF I had just said a couple of BS words? Granted they’re not really BS words now are they? I fully believe that we are partners, that he is my equal in practically every way. I only wish that he could see that. I don’t know what I can do to convince him, since it’s such a hard concept for me to even swallow. So me making some grand gesture, or something like that just isn’t in me. I just don’t know what I can do to convince him. I try with what I have… actions. I can’t say the words he wants, even if I do feel it. I just can’t put what I feel for him into words. Maybe one day I can make him understand that. “And if, as you say, we’re in a relationship…” Justin began. “Then you should know that partners don’t just do stuff without the other’s knowledge. Decisions need to be made together, especially if it effects one of said partners.” He informed me in a no-nonsense tone. Have I told you lately what a little shit he is? What can I say to that? I thought I had him on that whole partners shit, but he just throws the same damn thing right back into my face. See what I mean when I say that we’re prefect for each other. “But if it harms the other party, or you know that it will do more damage in the long run if it’s left unattended then it’s the responsibility of the other partner to do something about it.” I challenge. What can I say? At least it’s a civil conversation. Granted this talking about it in third… forth, whatever person is really messed up, but hey… who ever said we were normal? Question… as stupid as it may seem. Why the hell are we talking in third person? I know it’s easier on me, easier for me to handle… but this is Justin. He’s supposed to talk about this shit… he’s the one who has all those romantic tendencies. Just another thing that proves my point that he needs help. “Point taken, but I know that personally I would like to be informed before you once again go off and try to run my life. I am a grown man, Brian. I can make my own decisions. I have been doing it for a couple of years now. I don’t need another father.” He stated, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to be your father!” I yell at him. How fucking dare he even think about putting me in the same damn class as that asshole?! “I’m trying to be a partner… the shit you wanted.” Justin leans back on the couch, and all I can think about is shaking some fucking sense into him. How dare he even think that shit? “Brian, that’s not what I mean. I … Maybe I don’t know what I mean. At times I wonder if it would be easier on the both of us if we weren’t … what we are.” “You’ve got to fucking be kidding me!” I state jumping up from the couch. Now I know for certain that he’s lost it. “So just because things aren’t perfect, we’re done? Is that it? You bitch about me doing things behind your back, but yet you decide for the two of us that it’s over?” I walk over to the kitchen and pull out the bottle of JB. For some reason I know that I will need a hell of a lot of this shit. “It’s just like the whole fucking Ethan thing… you decide what’s right. Bullshit!” “I thought we had covered that. I thought you were okay with that.” He quietly says, and I have to strain to hear him. “I made a mistake in trying to force you into something you weren’t ready for. I can only say I’m sorry so many times!” I have to sit down. I really fucking do. We’re getting into dangerous territory – things we never talked about before, and I sure as fuck am not ready to talk about it. I am a firm believer that the past should just fucking stay in the past. Why dig up all the old shit, when there is not a damn thing that you can do about it now? “Look, forget it.” I down a glass as he stands from the couch. I can only silently watch as he starts to make his way over to the door. I want to ask him where he’s going… I want him to get some damn sense, but I only keep silent. “I’m not leaving… I just need to take a quick walk.” He says answering my silent question. I breathe a quick sigh of relief, as he closes the door behind him. One thing that makes me angry – and I really should fault him for this – is that he has a tendency of walking away. Where I internalize everything he makes this grand gesture and storms out. Yeah, we both need to work on that short of shit, but dammit at least I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one who is fucked up in this ‘relationship’. Why did I ever pick a damn kid to be my partner? I must have been insane… or too damn stoned, drunk, whatever to even care. All I know is that I think I’m the one who needs to see a shrink, cause I have truly lost my fucking mind. Damn teenagers.