Brian P.O.V.

I don't know how much I've had to drink tonight. I'm sure I bought the now empty bottle of whiskey after work. The drink was a toast or ten, to my latest accomplishment. I was celebrating! After ten years of working my ass off in advertising, I have opened my own business, Kinnetik. Most of my clients from Vanguard made the move with me and within a month, I had made more a percentage of profit for Kinnetik than I ever dreamed of making as a simple Senior Executive at Vanguard. Today, when Ted gave me the end of the month figures to go over, I noticed that not only had we made a good profit, but also I could probably retire early.

I think that was the thought that started this whole drunken depression stupor. Me, being old enough to retire. I may only be 31and I may look 25, but I am still nearing the age of a mid-life crisis. Yes, that is why I decided to use my Irish blood and get completely inebriated. I see that a good amount of the alcohol has spilled into a large puddle on my beautiful hardwood floors. Normally, I would make a fuss, but right now I am starting to feel sick and I have to run for the bathroom.

An hour later I climb out of the shower. I had to have thrown up all the alcohol in my system because right now I feel surprisingly good. I go to the sink and brush my teeth, making sure to scrub the vomit taste from my tongue. My gaze settles on my hair and I am beginning notice the top thinning out. I make a pact to shave my head skin bald if I ever start to get patches. I will always be young and I will always be beautiful.

Except, right now I do not feel so young and carefree, and I definitely do not feel like I am a beautiful person. It all started when I strode through my loft door after work. I had called Mikey and the rest of the gang and it turned out they all had plans with their significant others. I, of course laughed at them all, insisted that what they were doing was boring, and would be much less exciting than hanging out with me at Woody�s and Babylon. Even Ted turned me down. That is when I went to the liquor store and bought the Jim Beam. 

I looked around my empty cold loft. Never before feeling more connected to my home, in a sad self-pitying kind of way. It was a space, not a home. Something I truly never had. I made it that way. There was no color, warmth or life. I had taken rich and sleek to the max and left out what the loneliness allowed me to remember that I wanted. A home.

I feel ashamed that I allowed myself to get to that point. I never wanted what Jack and Joan had, I fought so hard not to be like them, but that is what I have become. All my efforts have been meaningless, because I am still alone in a big cold room that feels like a cage.

I had no one to come home to today. No one to share my news, no one to tell me that I did a good job, that they were proud of me. No one to kiss my cheek and tell me they loved me. Yes, it was just like home-sweet-home at Jack and Joan�s. 

That is when I started to think about him. The mysterious blond who worked as Chief Artist in Kinnetik�s art department. The young blond son of my brilliant assistants� best friend. Cynthia recommended him and because she is a great judge of character, and the work he submitted in his portfolio was genius. I told her to hire him on as art director. He was willing to start at a low salary until Kinnetik grew. 

I gave him a large bonus on his check today. I like to show my appreciation to my employees, that way they work just as hard the next week. I want them to be able to afford nice things and be happy, the happier they are, the better Kinnetik runs. I yell and scream enough, they have to have something that keeps them coming back.

I remember the day I first met my Art Director. I walked into my office and saw what appeared to be a young blond teenage boy, dressed in a pair of old black sweats and a large purple sweater, humming to himself as he sketched a picture of my desk over and over on a large white drawing pad.

I stood behind him in the doorway. I thought for sure Cynthia had to be joking, she actually hired some tweaked out little Twinkie who can not even learn to dress himself for an interview! I was pissed. I was sure that Cynthia was crazy. Just as I was about to start screaming, the boy turned his head and smiled at me shyly. 

That was it! His perfect pale cheeks blushed and his pink lips turned into the brightest smile I had ever been given. I had to grab onto the door handle because my knees were buckling! It only got worse when I saw the grin reach his sparkling crystal blue eyes. I wanted him instantly. I still do. 

I want him more and more everyday. I want HIM beside me right now, instead of this cold empty bottle, I want him around me instead of my empty meaningless life. 

It can never be though. Not because I don�t want it to be. But because, in Justin�s world and in his head he will always only see me as his boss. He cannot let me in in any other manner. I have tried time and time again but he has not let me in and Cynthia says he probably never will. But I have sensed his attraction when he didn�t know I was looking.

But I am going to try. I want to show Justin that he can be part of a bigger world. I want to be part of his. I want him to let me inside his head and heart, the way he is already in mine. I know Justin is strong, stronger than Asperger�s and so am I. I just have to figure out how to set off the glimmer I saw in his eyes the day I first laid mine on him.

I walk over to my computer and turn it on. I resign myself to it for most of the night. Learning everything I can about Asperger�s Autism. Learning everything I can about the world the man I am sure I love lives in.