EXPERIENTIA DOCET Omnia Everything, All things This Chapter 1 in the "EXPERIENTIA DOCET" series. Narrated by: Brian Kinney Featuring Cynthia Morgan, Gardner Vance, Justin Taylor, others Series Rated NC-17 and contains no warnings or spoilers. Summary: August 2002 Summary: Brian is asked to handle a large account. He must travel to LA and get the account working... the only problem is the person they want for the ad Disclaimer: no profit made… The Boys are not mine. No matter how much I’d love to have them… * * * * * * * I knew that today was going to be a shitty day, right from the moment I woke up. First my damn alarm didn’t fucking go off, so I had to rush to get out of the loft and to work. Of course in my rush, I didn’t get a chance to stop and grab a cup of latte, so my mood just went downhill. It seemed like everyone in Pittsburgh was on the streets at the same time, because it took me twice as long to get downtown to the office than it normally would. I was thankful that I didn’t have a damn meeting this morning that I would be late to, so I went straight to my office ready to give Cynthia hell if she didn’t have a cup of coffee there sitting for me. I walked into my office and placed my briefcase on my desk just as Cynthia came into the room with a coffee cup in hand. I knew that there was a reason why I kept her around. I think she is the only person alive who can put up with as much shit as I give out to her. I know I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have without her around, but of course I will never tell her that. Fuck that. I have a reputation to protect, and no matter how much I am getting tired of it, there isn’t much I can do to change that. At least not in this town. Fuck, I think Mikey, Lindsey, and the rest of the gang would all die of shock if they knew the things I have been thinking about. Such things as realizing that it just may be time for me to find someone to have a … relationship with. Fuck, just that thought scares me to death, but I think I need that in my life – I think I’m ready for that in my life. I have been a constant presence on the gay scene for years… always finding some quick fuck to satisfy my hunger, never wanting to get emotionally involved in anything. Hell I have been known to have at least 20-30 nameless fucks a month. It was the one thing that I have always been good at. There was no one who could resist the ‘Great Brian Kinney, God’s Gift to Gay PA.’ But for some reason, I don’t know, maybe it’s age… maybe it just boredom. I don’t know really. However, for some reason, I am getting bored with that scene. When I go out to the clubs, I look around and more times than not, I am finding myself leaving alone. I see all of my friends in relationships. Mel and Lindsey have gotten married. Emmett was with George… well until George died, but now he’s with Ted… Fuck what is that shit? Mikey is with Ben. Hell, even Deb is dating someone. And here I am… What the fuck am I? What am I doing? I’m the one who will never change. The one who will always be the same. So why does it feel like everyone else is moving forward in their lives, and my own life is stuck on fucking pause? Why is it that I come home and suddenly find the loft entirely too quiet? Maybe I’m getting old…. Maybe it’s just too many fucking movies… Or maybe I’m finally growing up. Whatever it is, I need to find out what to do with my life before I’m trapped in this hell. Before I’m left behind. “Vance wants to see you in his office in ten minutes,” Cynthia informed me as I sit down at my desk and take a sip of coffee, pulling me out of my thoughts. The coffee here is horrendous, not as bad as the diner coffee, but almost. I look up at her ready to blow. “And what the fuck does he want to see me for now,” I ask her trying to keep my foul mood in check. I try not to put her in a bad mood too often, since she always makes sure that I have all my ducks in a row as they say. She could easily forget to tell me of an important meeting and I’d be fucked. Of course I also know that she has her damn ear to the ground and has a way of finding out shit that no one else wants me to know. As I say… without her I wouldn’t be where I am today. “From what I’ve heard he meet with some bigwig yesterday,” she began as she moved to sit on the corner of my desk. Have I ever told her how much I fucking hate it when she does that? “And before you say anything, it was a secret meeting and no one knew about it. Anyway, evidentially this CEO wants an ad done, but there is a catch to it.” I lean back in my chair and just stare at her. What the fuck is going on here? I think I definitely have to have a little talk with my ‘Partner’ about what being a Partner means. Secret meetings and shit will not cut it with me. “And? What the fuck is the catch?” Cynthia just shrugs her shoulders, and I know that whatever it is must be big. She handed me the file of the company who had the meeting with Vance yesterday, knowing that I had to be prepared for whatever he had to throw at me. He may think he has the upper hand, but he doesn’t realize that I have a secret weapon. * * * * * * * I walk into Vance’s office after being ‘permitted’ by his secretary, and sit across from him. Leaning back in the chair with my hands laying casually across my lap, I just stare at him waiting for him to start this fucking meeting. “I had dinner with Christopher Jacobs last night, the CEO of Regis Enterprises,” he begins and I only nod my head. From everything that I read in the file, Mr. Jacobs is a hard ass. He has a tendency to visit many different firms, and place high demands on them. The one who can pull through with the demands wins his account. If it’s one thing I hate, it’s playing someone else’s game. I just continue to sit there and wait for the truth behind the meeting. What does Mr. Jacobs want us to do for him? “Mr. Jacobs has a new product, a new campaign if you will. The only problem is he only wants one person to be in the ad.” “And that’s where you want me to come in, right,” I ask not allowing my anger at this little fucking weasel show. But there are times that I’m not as successful as I had originally planned… like now. “I guess the term ‘Partner’ doesn’t mean shit to you, does it? When was I going to be told of this meeting?” “Brian, Brian, Brian,” he said standing from his desk and moving around so that he was standing in front of me. Normally, at least with normal people, the idea of someone standing in front of you was a very intimidating thing. To me, it just proves a point that assholes like Vance think they can push me around. He is sadly mistaken. I didn’t get to this point by being pushed around by some idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about what it is we do. Vance can pretend all he wants, but if I wasn’t here to bail his ass out, he’d be bankrupt within the first 6 months. “I didn’t think you would be interested in this meeting. In fact it wasn’t supposed to be a business meeting at all, but during the dinner Mr. Jacobs mentioned that he would like us to do an ad for him.” I just shake my head in disbelief. He really believes the lies that are coming out of his mouth. “So what is it he wants,” I ask not ready to get into it with Vance. I will have my day… and he won’t know what the fuck to do with me then. “This campaign will be internationally run. We could get coverage in Asia, Europe, South America, Australia… you name it, we will be there. In every household in the world. This is our chance to expand the company to an international media.” I think over what Vance is telling me and I can honestly say that I like the prospect of having clients throughout the world. He’s right - if we can do this campaign, we will get the international coverage WE need to get large accounts throughout the world. There’s a lot of money to be had in that sort of advertising, and I know that the company can only expand if… when we get this account. The only problem is I know that there’s more to this than what I have been told so far. I look Vance in the eye, and wait for him to continue. “There’s a young actor, who is formerly of this city. Mr. Jacobs wants him in the ad, and no one else. We get the actor, we get the account. I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you that this account is worth one hundred million dollars,” Vance told me as he moved back behind his desk. “And let me guess, I get to be the lucky person to get this ‘actor’ to sign on board,” I add feeling as if my head was about to explode. What a fucking asshole. He does this shit, gets people all hyped up, and then expects me to clean up his fucking mess. To pull a miracle out of my ass. I don’t get paid enough for this shit. “Why this actor?” “This young man is already well known internationally, both with ads in Asia, and through this television show he is on. He has been in a number of independent films, and television movies. He is already known internationally, and would be a great asset to the team.” So Vance wants some eye candy that the world already knows… okay so this company, and Mr. Jacobs wants some eye-candy who is already known. I guess he hopes that people will buy the damn product if they like the actor… hell it’s worked before. It’s not like I haven’t used that sort of thing in the past. “Fine… you need someone to get the kid, I’ll get the kid. But I get him my way, on my schedule. How much time is he giving us?” “Two months to deliver the best ad he has ever seen,” Vance informs me. “Okay...Give me four weeks, and I’ll have this actor eating out of our hands. Then the rest of the time will be doing the ad itself. Within a month and a half, we’ll have Mr. Jacobs’ ad,” I tell Vance as I move to make my way out of the office. “Oh, I do this alone, with only people that I choose on the team… This is my deal, my account. I expect a damn good bonus out of this.” I open the door, and pause slightly. “By the way, when I get back, I think we should have a refresher course on what a partner in a business really means.” * * * * * * * Cynthia and I land at glorious LAX, and we quickly head toward the hotel. I make all the arrangements for the next day to meet up with this ‘actor’ for lunch at some expensive little restaurant. I had Cynthia call the kid’s manager, and everything was set-up for two the next day. I was a little surprised that it happened as quickly as it did, but I know that things are never this easy. If it was this easy, then there would be no competition that Mr. Jacobs is so fond of. He just loves a challenge, and he’ll ensure that things do not run as smoothly as they may appear at first. My life these past two years has been a rollercoaster ride. I can’t even pin-point when it had all started, but I know that I am not the same person that I was just a couple of years ago. When I had told Mikey that I was going on this trip and that I wasn’t sure when I would be back, he was obviously upset. Of course he had also mentioned that all the guys out here should watch out, cause the ‘Stud of Liberty Ave’ is on new hunting grounds. ‘At least you won’t have to worry about repeats,’ he had said. A part of me was actually hurt at what he had said. I mean come on, I’m thirty…. Thirty….fuck! I’m thirty-one, there I fucking said it. Anyway, maybe it’s time I slowed down a little bit, you know find something else to do besides fucking some nameless trick, and getting plastered. Oh, now I’m not saying that I’m going to give it up completely, but things have changed for me… I have changed. Work of course is busier than ever and I have more responsibilities… I just don’t feel like going out every fucking night of the week and hang out with the guys. Fuck I’m getting old. Shaking my head to clear these thoughts, I pull out the file Cynthia had prepared on this young man who was the sole purpose of this trip and begin to look it over. Looking at the profile of him, I first take notice of the list of movies, television shows, magazines, so on and so forth that he has been in. The list is pretty impressive for a kid of nineteen. I notice Cynthia’s little notes stating that he is well sought after by a lot of various companies, but more times than not he turns them down. There is no real reason stated as to why, but I don’t see that as a real problem. The kid is openly gay in a place that being gay is not real highly looked upon. He has been an advocate for equality in the workplace, and hate crime legislature. Fuck, he’s just the perfect little queer isn’t he? I don’t believe in hiding, but this kid is definitely taking things to the extreme. I continue to look through the file, and come across a picture of the young actor. Suddenly, I freeze. It can’t be…. * * * * * * * Cynthia and I are lead to an exclusive, private table in the back of the restaurant, and we wait for our guest to arrive. I watch as a man in his early to mid-thirties makes his way over to our table and sits down. “Eric Parker,” I ask. “That would be me. Brian Kinney, correct,” the man asks me. “That’s me,” I state looking around the room for the last member of our party. “So where is Mr. Taylor?” Eric gave a small smile, and looked down at the table. I was almost beginning to dread the worst… the kid wasn’t going to show up. This has to be the reason why Mr. Jacobs had chosen this for a test. “Unfortunately, he is stuck at the studio. However, he asked me to get whatever information that you may have on the project and he’ll be in contact with you in a couple of days.” I look over at the man before me, knowing I was getting the fucking blow-off. I had to wonder if this jackass even told this kid about it, if I’m being played. What is it about people who think that they can play games with me? “You said he was going to be here. So where is he?” The manager at least had the fucking decency to look sorry, not that it matters one fucking bit. “I’m sorry.” “So am I.” Once the jackass leaves I look right at Cynthia. “I want to know everything. Where he lives, works, parties… hell even what type of fucking underwear he wears, and I need it yesterday!” I am too pissed to care if she is mad at me. How dare some little fucking kid stand me up? Studio… yeah, right. I’ll get him one way or the other. If he won’t to meet me here, if he won’t come to me – well I’ll just have to go to hunt his ass down. I’ve done worse to get an account. This kid is not going to be my downfall. I just know that Vance is just looking for a reason. This kid won’t cause me to lose all the shit I’ve worked my life for – not with all the shit I’ve put up with to get here. Fuck that. Before this was just an account… now it’s personal. No one stands me up. * * * * * * * Cynthia is good, I have to give her that. Two days after my ill-fated meeting she had this kid’s whole life story… right down to his underwear. There were 3 clubs that he frequents, so I head out there. After the second one, when I’m about ready to leave for the night, I begin to wonder just how good this information really is. I decide to take a shot and ask around. I look at the bartender and just nod. “What can I get ya?” “Beam,” I say. The moment the drink is placed in front of me, I shake my head. “Don’t you just fucking hate being stood up? I mean, you set shit up and then once you get there and wait for fucking ever someone else shows up and tells you that the person you’re waiting on can’t make it. I mean what is that shit?” The bartender just looks at me and smiles. Shaking his head at me like he has heard this tale thousands of times before, and I guess he has. “Welcome to LA, man. It’s always something here.” “Yeah well, I thought he was different, you know,” I say lying through my teeth. “I mean with those bright blue, fucking trusting eyes, and that damn smile. Fuck, I fell for it hook, line and sinker.” The bartender looks at me in amazement so I say fuck it – keep it going, see what I can find out. “He’s even got that blond hair that in the right light… he looks like an angel. What a load of fucking crap. Angel my ass.” I silently thank Cynthia for all of the pictures and descriptions that she could find on him. That makes this lie so much easier. Hey, what is a little lie anyway, right? “Justin,” he asks me totally confused. “That doesn’t sound like him. I’m sure that if he said he was busy that he really was. I mean if Justin says that he’ll do something… he’ll do it.” I look at him hopefully. “Yeah well… when’s he normally here? Friday night, right? I think that’s what he said.” Damn, *I* should be an actor. The bartender just gave me a sympathetic look, and I instantly cringe. This isn’t going to be good news. Why can’t this damn thing start to get easy? “Normally yeah, but he told me last week that it’d be at least two weeks maybe three before he can come back in. His schedule is so fucked up right now. Sorry, man.” Damn!!!! I can’t wait that long. “Thanks, anyway,” I mumble. It just keeps getting worse and fucking worse. “Hey, I’m sure if you call his friend… I mean assistant as we say, that he’ll call you right back. You seem like the type of guy he’d fall for. If he meant to meet with you… I’m sure he’ll be in touch.” “Yeah, I’m sure he will.” FUCK! * * * * * * * Okay, so last night was a total waste of time – not my normal outcome but as I said, I didn’t get this far by giving up. It’s just time for Plan B is all, but I’ll keep the ‘assistant’ thing ready in case I need to use it. I haven’t been denied yet so why start now… right? Cynthia got us set up with some tour passes to watch some tapings as they happen. She even found out that today was the day that his show was on the tour. I’ll say it again - she is good. We arrive at the studio and check-in with the guy she set this shit up with and we head out. I’ve never been one to really give a rat’s ass about this whole thing, or about actors so for me seeing what really goes on is enlightening. We are lead through the ‘steps’ that these people go through in a day’s time. Cynthia is amazed and in awe… not that I blame her really – I find myself feeling almost the same way. I mean, they have to arrive at the studio anywhere between 3 and 6 in the morning… fuck I’m just getting into bed around then most days. Then they may not leave until sometime between 9 and 1. And this is 4 to 5 days a week!! You couldn’t pay me enough for that shit … and have your life an open book? Hell no. “Alright, now for basically the ‘highlight’ of the tour,” our guide said as we stood outside a studio door where the red light above it was lit. He was just a little too fucking happy for my tastes. “Through this door is an actual taping of the show ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’. They’ve been on the set since around 4:30 this morning.” Crazy fuckers… not me. “Now when we go in through this door there will be some rules that all of you MUST follow.” Great! Cynthia just gives me a look and I roll my eyes. Like I would do anything… “First off, since there will be special effects going off on the set or laying around the studio area, we must all stick together. There will be no wondering off.” Yeah, right. Try and stop me. “Anyone leaving the rest of the group will be immediately escorted off the premises and there will be security around us to ensure your safety.” Fuck, why are all of my plans getting ruined lately? Since when did people become so damn safety conscious… what’s the big deal? “Secondly, absolutely no talking while they are filming. If you cannot follow these rules you will be escorted off of the property.” Fuck, fuck, and triple fuck! Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this shit? “However, we’re lucky in the fact that we have arrived before their lunch break and you may have the chance to converse with some of the stars.” Okay… so maybe I was wrong. Maybe this could work out. All I’ll need is just a couple of minutes with him, and this deal will be done. “Okay let’s go. Just remember what I told you before and everything will be great.” As we step into the large warehouse -- sorry ‘studio’ -- I first notice that the place is separated into small rooms. They are all separated basically by some tall, wooden walls. Off to the far end you can see some small rooms and on the other side of an open garage door you can see some trailers where I guess the actors spend their time when they’re not on the set. We slowly make our way to the large set that looks like the inside of an old mansion or something like that. The furniture was elaborate – fine Italian – and there was a staircase heading up to the ceiling. You can see a door on the side of the set and candles lit throughout the room. Suddenly we all heard screaming come from what would be the top of the stairs and some sort of chanting as well. It was like a scene right out of some fucked-up horror flick, and I realize that is just what I was looking at. This was real… well as real as anything in this town is. Out of the fucking blue, the door breaks apart scattering pieces throughout the room, and five people come through it, all with weapons of some sort. I can see Cynthia out of the corner of my eye trying to catch her breath. Okay, so I was a little surprised myself… I mean it WAS unexpected. I catch sight of the one I’ve been trying to see all week long. Fuck, his pictures do NOT do him justice. I feel as if he had just sucked the air right out of me. I let my eyes travel his up his body. He was wearing tight black jeans that were hugging his nice, firm bubble butt… man what I could do to that ass. Shaking my head slightly, my eyes moved further up to see a dark, blue skin-tight t-shirt under his black leather jacket. He had the most stunning blue eyes that I have ever seen, and his hair was blond, and not the type that is bleached either – his was all natural. I wondered briefly if he was blond all over. He moved gracefully through the set, kicking some serious ass and I am in shock. He moves like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like it’s nothing at all. Fuck this kid is beautiful. I was a little shocked when I heard the director yell, “Cut! Alright take an hour and a half or so then we’ll go through this again. Great job guys.” I shake my head, suddenly realizing that I had been sucked into this make-believe world and had actually been worried about their safety. They are good. Shaking my head of all thoughts… well all thoughts that related to him – naked. Justin Taylor is fucking amazing. I am quite impressed. * * * * * * * We make our way over to a small buffet table and Cynthia sets up beside me. “Not at all what I expected. He’s good,” she informs me like I haven’t already realized that for myself. I watch Justin from across the small area laughing with some of the other actors. He picks up a plate of food and makes his way over to one of the trailers. A couple of minutes later he reappears laughing, and shaking his head as he closes the door. I notice the others on the tour were talking and moving around the actors, so I make my way over to where Justin was. He is standing by one of the other actors, who I have no idea, since I have never watched this damn show – and I just stand off to the side and listen in. Any information I can get on the kid – man – is an added bonus. ”I just don’t understand it really,” I hear Justin say. “Maybe he feels like you’ve already helped him out enough. Maybe he feels indebted to you already and doesn’t want to add to it,” the other man simply stated. I watch as Justin looked at the other man in irritation, and I find myself wanting to wipe that look off of his face. This kid needs a good fuck to loosen up… he is definitely too wound up right now. Of course I would gladly volunteer for the job. Fuck I can’t be thinking that. Didn’t I learn my lesson with the whole Kip incident… but then again, he doesn’t really work for me, now does he? And I don’t know… but when I look at this young man, I feel something deep within me that I have only felt for a brief moment once before. I didn’t understand it then, and I sure as hell don’t understand it now. All I know is just looking at him, watching him, I feel myself harden. He gently bumps into me, and smiles slightly. “Sorry,” he says then turns back to his friend. Hell, just touching his skin in that brief moment sent a shock throughout my entire body. No one has ever been able to do that to me. I have never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted this kid – man – before. I wonder what they’re talking about. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not wanting or asking for anything in return. He needed help, and he had no one. I know what he was going through… at least in part. I just don’t understand why he won’t let me help him out in this,” Justin sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.” “Just talk to him… that’s all I can say. I’m sure he has a good reason for saying no.” “I know.. I know,” Justin sighs. I watch as the other man moves off, and I look up to see that Justin is looking right at me. “Hey… look sorry about before. I hope you didn’t have anything in your hands or anything when I bumped into you.” “Nah, hadn’t reached that far yet,” I say with a smile. “But if I had I’d send you the cleaning bill.” I watch as Justin smiles brightly, and just seeing that smile makes my breath catch in my chest. It was like the entire room was just bathed in light, and I felt myself smile in return. “I’m sure you would. I’m Justin by the way… but I’m sure you already know that,” he introduced himself rolling his eyes slightly. “Brian…Brian Kinney. It’s nice to finally meet you,” I tell him honestly. “So,” Justin says standing close to me – so fucking close I can almost smell his shampoo. “Been in LA long?” I shake my head and turn to face him slightly. “Nope, I’ve only been in town a couple of days, so I haven’t had the chance to see much of this town yet. Any suggestions?” “A few… depends on what you like,” he looks at me with his eyebrow raised a little. All I can think of is that I like what I see before me. Not my usual type, but he would definitely do. Hell, he most definitely would do. “I don’t know… how about blond, sky blue eyes, hell of a smile,” I say to him in a hushed tone. Justin laughs lightly, and I feel my heart speed up at the sound of his laughter. Oh yeah, I could handle him; I think I could enjoy spending time with this man. “Are you trying to hit on me, Mr. Kinney?” “Please… call me Brian. You say Mr. Kinney and I look for my ol’ man. And I’m not that fucking old,” I joke only slightly. Mr. Kinney… fuck! “And what if I was?” Justin just shrugs, and turns to look over at the group surrounding the tables. “I normally don’t date people I just met… especially ones who just show up for a fucking tour. What makes you special? What makes you any different from the hundreds who have tried before you,” he asks me turning to face me. I could get lost in those eyes… I have never seen eyes that actually pull you in as much as his do. I feel like with just one look, with one touch, he could pull me right into him, and I wouldn’t even know what was happening until it was too late. The scary thing is… I’m not sure that I would mind all that much. “I’m not special, really… I’m just looking for a good time, is all. Someone who can tell me where to find all the hot looking guys. Come on, LA isn’t really queer central. There are no real guide books telling you where to go if you’re gay… right?” “There is if you bother to look,” he informs me. “Yeah, but they would only give you some bullshit about what they are about, what they want you to think… I’d rather have first hand knowledge. You seem to fit that bill… Hell, who knows,” I state leaning in a little bit more so that I am almost right by his ear. “You might like it. I promise that I’ll behave.” “And if I don’t want you to?” “I can handle that too. So? What do you say? Dinner sometime,” I ask. I know I need to get a foot in the door… this is my chance. Justin just looks over at me with a small smile. “Maybe. Give me your number, and I’ll see what I can come up with,” he tells me. Now it’s not like I actually think he’ll call me, because I highly doubt that he will. Something tells me that I may have to come up with another plan to get him to meet up with me, but I hand over my phone number anyway. “Not that I think you’ll call…” Justin looks at me with a very serious look on his face. “I always do what I say I’m going to do. I’ll call.” And I actually believe him. * * * * * * * It was two days later when I received the call from Justin. I was beginning to think that he was going to blow me off, and I was about to pick up the phone and make some phone calls, when my cell rang. He told me to meet him at this old dive downtown, and I began to wonder if I was really ready to do this. The shit I do for the job… I hope that Vance appreciates it. Yeah, that’ll be the fucking day. So around six I call a cab and make my way toward the little ‘dive’ for this… oh shit… no fucking way… I’m going on a date. Nah, can’t be. Fuck! * * * * * * * I sit down in a booth in the back of the little diner waiting for Justin to show. He had called a couple of minutes ago to tell me that he had gotten stuck in traffic and would be here shortly. It seemed like I knew the moment he walked in the room, as I felt the air around me heat up, and I found it hard to breathe. Fuck, I have no idea what is going on. Why is this kid making me feel these things? What the fuck is this I’m even feeling? “Hey, sorry I’m late,” He says as he sits down across from me, putting a motorcycle helmet in the seat beside him. The kid rides a motorcycle? That is not what I pictured him taking around town, but I guess this is my chance to find out more about him. To find out who he really is, not that shit that is in his bios. I look at him as I lean back against the booth trying to give off the air of ‘I don’t give a shit’. “No problem. Ready to order?” “Sure,” he answered. We ordered and I look over at him, taking him in. I will admit… reluctantly mind you… that this kid definitely does something for me. Which I guess is scary in a way since he is not really my type. I don’t know what it is about him, but I can almost feel my dick coming to attention just at the sight of him… especially since he has to wear those tight leather pants and tight shirt. Fuck! Stop fucking thinking about that Kinney. “So what does Brian Kinney do for a living,” he asked me taking a drink out the Coke before him. “I get people to do things that they normally wouldn’t do,” I tell him with a smile on my face. Hell, isn’t that what we do? We tell people what they think they want, and make a lot of money doing it. “Doesn’t everyone? Any good?” Now that is a loaded question if I EVER heard one. “The fucking best,” I tell him, honestly. And the thing is I knew I was. There was no one better than me. Some would call that arrogance, but I call it the truth. “Full of yourself aren’t you,” he smirked at me. “Only if it wasn’t true,” I inform him. “So what made you go into acting? You don’t really seem like the type who would choose this as a career.” Justin takes a deep breath, like I had just asked him the hardest question in the world. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I decided to let him take the time he felt he needed. “Honestly?” I nod my head, letting him know I wanted to hear the truth. “It was a fluke,” he said and I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I mean it.” “Okay, I have heard it all now. You say that your becoming a international star is nothing but a fluke? What game are you trying to play here,” I ask him. “People would kill to be in your shoes.” I know a lot of people who would want to be him right now, and here he was acting like it was nothing. I didn’t take him as the type of person who would think them self superior than everyone else, but now I’m beginning to wonder. “It’s true. I never fucking wanted to be an actor. In fact I hate most actors,” he explains. “Even as a kid, I never wanted to do this for a living. It just happened that one day someone came up to me and told me they had the perfect job for me. I needed the money and here I am.” “Just like that,” I ask. “Well not really, but that’s the basic version of it. I was down and out… living out of my car, and someone asked me if I wanted to make a couple of bucks. I needed to eat, so I said sure. Next fucking thing I know, I’m in a commercial… the rest they say is history,” he adds as the waiter brings us our orders. Now my curiosity is piqued. “If you didn’t want to be an actor, what did the great Justin Taylor want to be when he grew up?” “An artist,” he quietly tells me. Okay that is not what I had thought he would say. I’m not sure what I thought he would say, but that wasn’t it. “Why aren’t you,” I find myself asking him. I feel the sense of dread in the pit of my stomach starting to form. I don’t know why, but there is something about the ‘why’ that I knew I didn’t want to know. Justin sat there across from me, picking at the food in front of him, with a far off look on his face. “I had dreams of going to Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts after high school, and becoming some famous artist. I still may do that in the future, but I don’t know. Art just doesn’t hold the same release that it used to … you know?” I look at him from across the table, trying to calm my breathing. There is something there… I don’t know what it is, but I just know it. Part of me wants to run… just fucking run as far away from here as possible, and I don’t know why. But the feeling is there. Despite my fears, I hear myself asking him the one question I never wanted to ask… and I find myself wanting to kick the shit out of myself. Trust me, I would if I could. “What happened?” Justin’s eyes immediately found mine, and the look in those blue eyes sent a shiver through me. I don’t know what that look meant but I knew that I was about to be told something that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. “This kid in high school didn’t like the fact that I was gay,” he told me, and the coldness I was feeling continued to grow. Please no… don’t tell me that it was you. I don’t know if I could take that. “So he decided to take care of the ‘problem’ himself with a bat.” NO! Fuck… this can’t be happening. This fucking can’t. “After I woke up, they told me that the motor functions on my right side were pretty much fucked. It would take a long time for it to ‘work itself out’ if it ever did. There are times still that my hand will shake so badly that I can’t hold a pen… so pretty much my career as an artist is over. I’m sure in time it will get better, and I’ll be able to draw again, but until then…” he said with a shrug. The only thing I really heard was ‘bat’. It can’t be can it? I mean that was like … fuck almost three years ago. “What happened,” I asked quietly, almost sure that I don’t want to know. I don’t really want to know that this is the same Justin Taylor. It can’t be, I mean he’s dead right? He didn’t survive. “Sorry, I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to talk about it with a complete stranger,” I rationalize. Maybe it’s me who doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t know anymore. This dinner has turned into something that I’m not sure how to handle. Justin only smiles at me. “I don’t mind talking about it… but if I tell you all my secrets, then we won’t have anything to talk about if we do this again. Right?” And part of me is grateful for his avoidance. I am grateful that he isn’t telling me that he’s the same Justin Taylor who was bashed outside that theatre almost three years ago. As I said… I’m not sure I really want to know. “Of course.” Once we finish eating, Justin begins to stand up and I follow suit. “So,” I say not sure what would be the next move. “So. Need a lift anywhere,” he asks sort of innocently. It’s kind of cute the innocence that he has, the look that he has. “On your motorcycle,” I ask pulling out my wallet to pay for dinner. Justin puts his hand on my arm and places a couple of twenties on the table. I don’t know if I can describe the feeling I get from the simple act of his skin touching mine. I know I can’t. It’s almost as if, like when you were kids and touching a light socket… the little tingle that runs through your body… well it’s sort of like that I guess. Granted as a kid I never had my groin want to get as much attention from anything as I want to get from this man in front of me… Hell, I’ve never had that in my life period. “Afraid,” he asks smiling the entire time. He was trying to egg me on, and I knew that I’d take the bait. “Let’s go, Sunshine,” I tell him. Now don’t ask me where I came up with that little nickname, but somehow it seemed to fit. We make our way out to his red and black, fast as hell motorcycle, and he hands me a helmet. “Wouldn’t want you to get that head smashed in if we crash,” he jokes. I climb on after him, and already I am beginning to think that this is a really bad idea. I tell him where my hotel is and we begin to move through the traffic, with me holding on tightly to his waist. Okay, I’ll admit riding like this, with only the outside air, nothing to protect you… was a little liberating. Hell, it was giving me a fucking hard-on. I never knew the freedom that you could get from riding one of these. It made me feel like there was nothing else in the world except the two of us. No Mikey, no Gus, no Lindsey, nothing… We pull up to the hotel and I step off. “Wanna come up,” I ask. Okay, that’s another first for me – asking. Between being so damn close to him during that ride, and the fucking ride itself, I need some relief. “Maybe next time,” he says through a smile. He takes off his helmet and leans in. His lips touch mine lightly, and I feel the softness, the warmth … and it’s heading straight to my fucking groin. I reach up and pull his head closer to mine, pushing my tongue into his mouth, trying to devour him, to take him. Slowly he pulls away, flushed and smiling. “Here’s my number… call me, we’ll do this again.” Before I can say anything he puts his helmet back on and rides away. “You better fucking believe it, Sunshine. You better believe it.” * * * * * * * End of Chapter One * * * * * * * Everything, All things = Omnia