Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all of its characters are property of CowLip, I'm only borrowing them Chapter 3 – Red "Do you live, do you die, do you bleed, for the fantasy?" Brian “Morning, Brian,” Justin greeted him sleepily from the kitchen. “Want some breakfast?” “What are you doing up at this hour? And, no, thanks, I don’t have time.” “I wake up early sometimes,” Justin answered, offended. Brian stared at him. “Ok, very, very rarely sometimes.” Brian moved around the apartment quickly, collecting his school bag, his soccer duffel bag and a portfolio. When he had everything, he went to the kitchen, grabbed the coffee pot, poured sugar into it, and started drinking. “Hey! I wanted some of that,” Justin complained. Brian shrugged and kept drinking. He didn’t put the coffee pot down until there was just enough for half a cup left. “Ah, breakfast of champions.” “Brian, you can’t have six cups of coffee and sugar for breakfast. It’s unhealthy.” “Why, thank you, Mr. Public Service Announcement. I’ll keep that in mind.” Justin rolled his eyes. “Why are you carrying all that shit, anyway?” “Have class, then practice, then the internship at the agency,” Brian explained. “See, all the more reason to have a decent breakfast.” Brian shook his head, saying, “No time. Buh-bye, Sunshine.” He gave Justin a peck on the lips, and left. + "Do you live?" “So, here is a random example of a campaign for flu medication,” Mr. Johns gestured towards the board, where a slide was being projected. “What do you think? Works, doesn’t work? Good, bad?” “I think it’s good. It’s sweet,” a girl ventured. There were a few sounds of agreement, and a very loud snort from Brian. “Mr. Kinney, care to tell us what you think?” Mr. Johns asked. Brian raised an eyebrow, and answered, “I think it’s shit.” “And why is that?” “We all know that what sells isn’t ‘sweet’. It’s sex. There’s nothing sexy about that ad. It’s contrived, clichéd, and very fucking boring.” “How do you expect to have sex in a flu medicine ad? It’s impossible, unless you’re some perv.” the ‘sweet’ girl said haughtily. Brian rolled his eyes, and leaned forward. “No it’s not. Listen, flu meds have been around forever. The product isn’t new, it isn’t fun. So all you count on to sell is a campaign that’s original and attractive. So you either find the sex in the flu, or you try something completely different from any other flu med ad in the world.” Everyone in the classroom was listening to Brian, and a few people nodded. Mr. Johns asked, “Fine. A good point. So how would you find the sex in the flu?” Brian was silent for a few seconds, analyzing the ad. ‘Sweet’ looked triumphant, thinking she’d won the argument. “You confuse the viewer,” Brian started. “For a TV ad, you start with showing the steps to a bedroom, focusing on the clothing strewn around, so it looks like two people were undressing as they went up the stairs. You hear faint moans. Then, you get to the bedroom, and slowly show that it’s not two people having sex, but a girl taking care of a sick boyfriend, using the medication. For the magazines, you can show a picture of the clothes strewn around, and in the next page, the couple.” “Slogan?” “Hmm… ‘Makes you feel good for the good times’, or something like that.” The teacher nodded. “Well, Mr. Kinney, it seems you’ve done the impossible. Well done,” he smiled. The class continued, the students discussing the technicalities of the ad, the things that worked, what didn’t. When the class was finished, just as Brian was about to leave, Mr. Johns asked him, “Out of curiosity, what would you do to make it completely different from any other flu medicine in the world, if you didn’t use sex?” Brian thought for a moment. “I’d be honest,” he replied. + "Do you die?" “Ok, people, the game is this Saturday. We need to be perfect. It’s the big one.” Brian rolled his lips into his mouth to keep himself from grinning. He’d suddenly remembered Justin’s sticky note. “Why the fuck are there so many big games, anyway? Is there ever a game that isn’t big?” “There’s nothing funny about this, Kinney.” Coach Jenkins’s voice startled Brian out of the memory. “And like I told you, you’re the team captain, you-” “Have to be the best. I know.” “You better know. This isn’t some fairy business, this is serious.” “Well, how about we stop talking and start practicing, then?” Brian asked. Coach Jenkins glared at him, but blew the whistle. The team started running, and Brian knew Jerkings was going to make him pay for that comment. It was going to be a hellish practice. + "Do you bleed?" Brian walked into Ryder, looking fresh and very fucking hot in his suit. He always looked hot, but he didn’t feel very fresh, however; he was actually pretty sure one of his toes was bleeding, and he was making an effort to keep his legs from shaking. His prediction had been right; the coach had made sure Brian paid for what he said every second of the hour and a half of practice. Still, he knew he was lucky as hell having an internship in Ryder, and he had to do a kick-ass job if he wanted to be offered a job after graduation. So he swallowed any discomfort, and focused on being brilliant. “Brian! Anderson wants you to help him set up for the Lowe’s Shoes presentation,” Jill, an assistant, called out. Brian nodded and headed to Anderson’s office. “Kinney, good. I need you to set up the boards and sit in on the presentation. If they ask anything to you, give them a short answer. If you don’t know, don’t make it up, ok? Just defer the question to me,” Anderson explained. “Yes, Mr. Anderson.” Brian hated saying that name. He felt like laughing every single time, or adding, ‘My name is Neo’. Justin had laughed for fifteen minutes straight when Brian told him what the account executive’s name was, and then forced Brian to watch Matrix once again. Shaking away thoughts of Justin’s silliness, Brian started setting up the presentation. Whatever Anderson may think, Brian was more than prepared for any questions the clients might throw, even for questions they wouldn’t think to ask. He knew that the only way to make it in the ad business was to be the best, not just good. The presentation was going well, the clients seemed impressed, especially with the slogan of the ad. Brian felt quite proud, since he’d come up with the copy in the first place. One of the clients, a woman, turned to him and asked, “So, why do you think this ad works? Would you buy the shoes?” Anderson looked a bit panicked, but Brian calmly replied, “The ad works because it’s memorable. It’s funny, it’s a bit sexy, and it’ll be remembered by the target demographic, the under-thirties. If I had the money, I’d buy the shoes, or bug my mom until she did.” The woman nodded. “Good. Well, then, I think we’re set.” It wasn’t until the clients were leaving that Brian noticed Mr. Ryder himself had seen the presentation; he must have come in half way through. As Brian was leaving the conference room, Ryder said, “Good job.” Brian thanked him, mentally doing a happy dance. “So, going home to rest?” Jill asked, once Brian was packing up his stuff for the day. “I wish,” Brian replied. “I have to go do something before that.” + "For the fantasy" “So, tell me why I should give you this job, Kinney. ‘Cause even though your grades are impressive, they don’t sell drinks.” “Sap – Mr. Sapperstein, I may not be a professional bartender, but I know how to mix any drink. And look at me,” Brian opened his arms. “Trust me, people will want to buy drinks from me.” Sapperstein looked at Brian speculatively. “Alright, then. Mix me a martini, a Cosmo, a margarita and a Sex on the Beach,” Brian nodded and walked to the bar. “With your shirt off,” the Sap called out. Brian bit his lip, and took his shirt off. When Brian was done, the Sap tasted each drink, all the while staring at Brian’s chest with undisguised lust. Brian loved being looked at, he loved being admired, but the Sap staring at him like that made him feel uncomfortable and dirty in a way he’d never felt before. Still, he needed the job. He had to help Deb and Vic out. “Alright, Kinney. You got yourself a job. You start tonight, nine o’clock.” + "You burn too bright, You live too fast" Justin “We are not going to watch Yellow Submarine again, Justin,” Daphne said. “Fine. You pick, then,” Justin said sulkily. “How about the Matrix?” Daphne asked. “Nah, I watched that with Brian not too long ago. One of his bosses is called Mr. Anderson,” Justin giggled. Daphne looked at him oddly. “It’s an inside joke. Never mind.” “Where is Brian, anyway?” Daphne wondered, looking around the apartment. “School, soccer practice, ad agency… pick one,” Justin shrugged. “I actually haven’t spoken to him for more than a minute this week.” “Well, that sucks. You haven’t even gone to Babylon with him?” “I haven’t been to Babylon since last Saturday. Had to work on that Sculpture project for my asshole teacher, remember?” Daphne nodded, but kept looking toward Brian’s bedroom, as if prolonged staring would make him appear. “He’s not gonna pop up magically, Daph. I feel so neglected. You don’t ever come by just to see me anymore. You just want to catch another glimpse of Brian naked,” Justin complained. “Well, yeah, obviously,” Daphne said, grinning. “Come on, let’s watch Alexander and skip to the parts with Jared Leto.” + Justin was putting a plate with turkey meat loaf in front of a leather queen, when he felt a menacing presence by his side. He turned to see Michael glaring at him. “Where is he? Where did you put him?” Michael asked. “Where is who? What are you talking about?” Justin asked, confused. “Brian!” Michael exclaimed. “He’s bailed on dinner every day this week.” “Well, I’ve barely seen him all week either, Michael,” Justin said. “I’m asleep before he gets home, and by the time I wake up he’s gone again.” “What the fuck is going on?” Michael wondered. Justin shrugged, refilling water glasses. Truth be told, he was wondering the same thing. He’d been trying hard not to worry, but things were getting out of hand. “We have to go to Babylon tonight,” one of the patrons said. “Why?” his companion asked. “Haven’t you heard? Kinney, that hot, young stud, is bartending. Everyone says it’s the hottest thing to hit Babylon since last week’s Absolute Abs contest winner.” Justin turned to look at Michael, and he was sure his look of horror was reflected in his own face. They stared at each other with wide eyes, and wordlessly decided to hit Babylon that night. + Justin and Michael entered Babylon, adjusting to the crowd and the thumpa-thumpa. They made their way to the bar, craning their necks to find Brian. “There he is!” Michael said, pointing to a particularly crowded part of the bar. Justin and Michael approached, shoving others out of their way, until they were in front. Brian was wearing tight jeans, and nothing else. He was slightly sweaty, which only made him look hotter, and he was busy making an elaborate cocktail, putting on a show by twirling bottles. The patrons were cheering, ogling him, and asking for more drinks than Brian could keep up with. “Brian, what the fuck are you doing?” Michael asked. Justin saw the surprise in Brian’s face, but it was quickly covered up with a smirk. “Serving drinks, Mikey, what does it look like I’m doing?” “Since when are you a bartender here?” Justin asked. “Monday,” Brian answered curtly. “Brian, you have a million things going on at school, with the internship. I don’t think working nights at a club is a good idea,” Justin said. “Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion. Now, if you’re not gonna order anything, would you mind moving?” Brian asked, with a raised eyebrow. Justin raised his hands in surrender and backed away from the bar. Michael followed him, muttering. “I can’t believe that asshole. What does he think he’s playing at?” Justin didn’t answer, but he looked back in time to see Brian snorting what was probably a trail-mix of cocaine and who knows what the fuck else from a small vial. + "This can’t go on too long You’re a tragedy starting to happen." The following morning, Justin woke up to find his muffins uneaten, and bellow his “Eat before you starve yourself to death, asshole” he read Brian’s reply, “Fuck off, Sunshine.” Brian always answered a variation of that, but he usually ate what Justin made for him. This made Justin go beyond worried and into about to fucking panic territory. Brian wasn’t eating, he was barely sleeping and he was getting through school, soccer, the internship and bartending on drugs. Justin had no idea why Brian took the job in the first place, he didn’t actually need the money, since his scholarship came with living expenses. “What’s wrong, Justin?” Ethan asked, later that day. “I just said I thought Pollock sucks, and you didn’t ream me out.” “Huh? Oh, I’m sorry,” Justin gave him a small smile. “I’m just worried, is all.” “About what?” “Brian. He’s… fuck, something’s gonna happen. He can’t go on like he has.” “The asshole again? He’s a big boy. Why don’t you let him make his own mistakes?” Ethan said, mouth twisting. “Because he’s my best friend, fuck you very much, Ethan,” Justin replied angrily, and walked off. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and knowing he’d be unable to concentrate in the studio that day, he went home. When he arrived, he threw his bag down and didn’t give a shit when half his things flew out. Brian always complained about Justin’s mess, but Brian was too fucking busy killing himself, and Justin felt like making a fucking mess, damn it. As he walked to his room he noticed Brian’s door was open, and he heard the water running in the shower. Curious, he went to investigate. When he saw the figure lying on the floor, he had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. “No, no, no, no. Please, no,” he begged, kneeling. He felt a pulse. Sighing with short-lived relief, he grabbed the phone from the nightstand, and dialed 911. “Jesus Christ, Brian,” he whispered, fighting the tears. + “He’s going to be fine,” the doctor assured Justin. “He passed out because of severe exhaustion. He had low blood sugar, he was dehydrated… he really needs to take better care of himself.” “I know,” Justin breathed out. “He hasn’t rested at all this week. He goes to school, soccer practice and work in the day, and then he works most of the night at a club.” “Well, he’s going to have to stop. His body can’t take that much, especially if he’s also not eating right.” “I’ll make sure he eats better, doctor,” Justin promised. “Can I see him now?” “Yes, you can go in. He’s still a bit drowsy, but he’ll be able to go home later tonight.” “Thank you, doctor, thank you so much.” Justin gave him a watery smile, and went into Brian’s room. Brian’s eyes were closed and he looked pale. There was an IV hooked to one of his veins, and Justin winced at the faint bruise he could see forming in Brian’s hand. “You fucking asshole,” he whispered. “Here I am in my death bed and you insult me, Sunshine?” Brian said hoarsely, opening his eyes. “You’re awake!” Justin exclaimed, and launched himself onto Brian. Brian hugged him back weakly, but Justin relished the feel of his arms nonetheless. Eventually, he leaned back and smacked him on the shoulder. “Fuck you, Brian! You have no idea how much you scared me, you fucking idiot!” he yelled, glaring at him. “Ow,” Brian rubbed his shoulder. Justin kept glaring at him, and Brian managed to look contrite. “I know. I’m sorry, Justin.” “You should be,” Justin admonished. He knew he had to tell Brian it was time to take care of himself, to stop working in Babylon, but he had to go about it the right way. Telling Brian that he had to take care of himself because so many people loved him would be received with a raised eyebrow and a snort, so Justin went at it from another direction. “Brian, you have to stop pushing yourself like this. You have to quit bartending,” Brian was about to interrupt, but Justin held a hand up and kept talking. “Listen, I don’t know why you started working there, but you have to quit. The doctor said so. I know you think you can do anything, but eventually, you’ll start fucking up. You’re nothing away from graduating, do you really want to put your entire career on the line for a sleazy job? What if you’d collapsed in Ryder, huh? Do you really think they’d hire you after you graduate?” Brian looked down. “No,” he whispered. “That’s right, they wouldn’t have. What if they caught you snorting poppers, or cocaine to keep yourself awake, huh? You have to quit. You have to take care of yourself.” The room was silent for a moment, except for the constant beep of the machine next to Brian. Justin felt ridiculously grateful for the sound that told him Brian was alright, Brian was alive. “Alright, I’ll quit Babylon,” Brian finally said. “Good,” Justin smiled. “And I’m gonna cook you breakfast in the mornings, and you will eat it, no fucking complaints. You’ll also have a healthy lunch and dinner, unless you want me to tell Michael and Debbie about this little episode,” Justin warned. “No! Don’t tell them,” Brian looked horrified, and justifiably so. Justin couldn’t imagine the levels of mothering Brian would be subjected to if the Novotnys found out about Brian’s collapse. “I swear I’ll eat.” “Excellent. Now, scoot over so I can lie down next to you.” Brian rolled his eyes, but moved so Justin fit next to him. Just before Brian dozed off, Justin whispered, “I love you, Brian. Don’t ever do this to me again.” Brian didn’t answer. He held on to Justin, squeezing him closer to his body. TBC A/N: Title froms song by Elbow. Songs quoted are The Fantasy by 30 Seconds to Mars and Red by Elbow. Thanks SOOO much for your wonderful reviews! They mean so much :)