“Justin.” A sharp knock on the restroom’s door rattled him.

“Go away.” 

“No.”

The door folded open and shut. Justin felt naucious. In his rush, he had failed to lock the door. But Brian didn’t. The cold click churned Justin’s insides; the close quarters leaving hardly any moving space. He tensed when Brian put a hand on his shoulder.

“Get your fucking hand off me you son of a bitch,” He jerked away best he could. “I hope you’re fucking satisfied.”

“And why is that?”

“Oh,” Justin’s laugh was not an amused one, “like you really need to ask! What the fuck is wrong with you? You think choking someone is normal behavior? Are you mentally ill? No,” he raised a hand to stop Brian from speaking, “I already know the answer. So congradulations Bri, you really did it. I hope you’re satisfied because I’m done with you. The second I walk off this plane, YOU are buying me a one-way ticket back to Pittsburgh. Got it?” 

Brian scratched the back of his neck. “That’s some speech sunshine. And taking off your ring? Very convincing. Where the fuck did you put it?”

“There.” Justin motioned to the toilet behind him, “I flushed it.”

“Ah. Well then, I’m glad I didn’t splurge on it because you sure did not turn out to be worth it.”

His words cut Justin like a knife.

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not worth anything to you,” Justin’s voice faltered, “I’m just some worthless piece of shit you kept around to fuck and beat. So I get it now Brian! I GET IT!” He yelled, not giving a shit if the whole plane could hear him. “I was you’re fucking stupid whore; stupid because I let you abuse me and a whore because I let you fuck me. God,” he wiped his eyes to stop any tears. Brian was not worth crying over, at least until he was alone, “I don’t know why the fuck I married you.” 

Brian laughed. He actually, fucking, laughed. “Because I’m the best fuck you have ever had, and I care about you.” 

“Bullshit, you are an egotistical asshole,” Justin spat. Brian’s sly smile disappeared and was replaced by an angry glower.

“Watch it.” 

“Fuck you!” Justin pushed him, “Fuck you Brian! You are not as high and mighty as you think you are! You can’t control me, not anymore, I won’t let you.” He attempted shuffling to manuvere around Brian; who gripped his upper arms. Brian was staring at him with that look of distaste, like a fucked up piece of art.

“Justin,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all those fights I caused. I never meant it, you know that. I remember me getting so drunk, and pushing you around the kitchen, yelling at you. I am so fucking sorry. I don’t know if it even means anything to you now, but I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just lose my temper, just like my dad, and I end up hurting people I love. People that deserve so much better then what I’m capable, people that I care about with more emotion that I thought I was capable of.” 

“Oh, don’t try to redeem yourself now,” Justin said, his voice beginning to crack. “That ‘I’m sorry’ shit is not going to fly with me this time, okay? The alcohol and father speech is a poor excuse. You weren’t drunk when you,” he tripped over saying the word, “…when you raped me two nights ago -”

A near animalistic groan passed Brian’s lips, “That wasn’t rape you stupid twat, that was role playing. Besides,” he added aversively, “It’s not like you said your safe word.”

“I was fucking terrified! Are you so blind Brian that you can’t see how afraid I am of you?” Justin stood there for a second just hurt, but determined not to let him see it. Sick in more ways than one of arguing in a goddamn lavatory some-thousand feet in the air he wriggled an arm to unlock the door and pushed his way out. 

Brian stood still, face to face with a toilet instead of Justin. Re-locking the door he slammed the toilet lid shut to sit down on it. He stared at his wedding finger, mumbling.
“These cost a fucking fortune.”