“I made some decisions…” “Bout what?” “My life.” “Ah…” “What I want.” “I thought you’d already worked that out… you were gonna live off your considerable Hollywood wealth and try your hand at being an artist.” “Why are you making fun of me?” “I’m not making fun… You’re making me fucking nervous as hell, just tell me what you want… what you’ve decided, so we can go to bed - fuck…” “Huh… you already know what I want… I’ve already told you.” “That’s right, you have - A husband. A family. A home. All the things that make life worth living.” “Would you fucking cut it out? Just stop it!... And I know you can’t give me those things.” “Not can’t. Can’t implies that I’m incapable… it’s that I won’t. “ “I accept that… I suppose it’s why I’ve always loved you.” “Ah… the untamable beast.” “But… to be a couple both people have to want the same things… to move in the same direction. If they can’t or - or won’t - they really have nowhere to go.” “Probably not.” “Then why are we still doing this, if we both know it’s never gonna work?” “Damned if I know.” * Brian And so he left. And I couldn’t say a word. I wouldn’t. I did what I always do… and then did what I never have. I tried to find an explanation, a vindication, a scape-goat. I ranted, and raved and yelled all my pain… and… I lost them both. My best friend and the man I… the man I… Justin. 'I felt every ounce of me screaming out, But the sound was trapped deep in me.' A little time passed. I went to his show, and he was fucking brilliant. I tried my hand at making things right with Mikey, didn’t really work. But I did give him Babylon for their damn benefit. I kept hearing his voice, telling me I had to grow up already, that I was an over-the-hill club boy… and while my face betrayed nothing, a part of me wanted to just tell him ‘what the fuck did you expect? You’ve never let me grow up. You always loved the fact that I was Brian Kinney, for fuck’s sake… up until the moment it wasn’t convenient for you anymore. So fuck you.’ I felt fucking alone, and I realized my life had really started getting weird when Theodore was my goddamned confidante. But what the hell. I figured some fucking and sucking down under Down Under was the perfect way to treat myself, to remind myself I’d survived cancer… and that I would survive Justin. And then, well, then came the fucking phone call. “Brian! Brian, you have to get here now!” “Calm down, Theodore. I’m on my way to the damn airport, so whatever is wrong, you deal with it.” “No, you have to come, the police are asking for the owner…” “What?! Theodore, what the fuck did you do? Why are the police looking for me?” “They… they…” “Spit it out, Theodore…” “They found a bomb. In Babylon. It was set to go off during the benefit…” “I’m on my way.” I could barely speak, so it was a miracle I actually managed to tell the driver we had a slight change of plans. I arrived to Babylon to see a harried-looking Ted dealing with a bunch of people. I stepped in and learned that through sheer luck, one of my bartenders had seen a strange looking device under the bar, and seeing the timepiece was enough to make him call the police. I gave the guy a considerable raise. It was a fucking close call… can you imagine how bad it could have been? A fucking bomb going off in Babylon? When the questions had been answered and my presence wasn’t required anymore, I left things in Theodore’s hands and stepped out of the club, quickly lighting a smoke, determined to get to the airport. This was a sure sign I needed to get out of Pittsburgh fast. And just as I was leaving, he was coming in. He looked… beautiful. I stopped, looked at him for a long while. There was a strange churning in my stomach, just at the possibility that he might have gotten hurt, that the bomb hadn’t been found. And like it’s always been with us, he felt my presence, found me in the shadows. He paused, and his eyes met mine. It felt like an eternity, though it was probably seconds, and I could feel the words, could feel them in every fucking pore of my body. I took a step towards him. A sharp, loud car horn pulled me out of the moment. My driver was impatiently waiting for me at the curbside, and whatever I was about to do and say was lost, lost in all the bullshit I carry around every fucking second. 'You're Brian Kinney, for fuck's sake.' It never felt more like a curse. So I got in the car, headed to the airport. And if my hands were shaking and my chest hurt, it was because it was a cold night. That’s it. That’s what I told myself, and you better fucking believe me. You better, ‘cause I can’t. When I came back two weeks later, Justin had left for New York. * Author's note: dialogue at the beginning taken literally from episode 507 (oh, how it breaks my heart), and lyrics quoted from the song Signal Fire by Snow Patrol. Title taken from a quotation by Sheerwood Anderson. Feedback makes my day, PLEASE let me know what you think :)