Chapter 1: HAPPILY EVER AFTER “Jeez ... what is wrong with that man ... doesn't he trust us or something ...” Mel, Lindz partner, had moaned, as Lindz put down the phone. “Well ... we haven't always made it easy for him ... have we ...” Lindz conceded. “I don't know why you always defend him ... he's hardly been Father of the Year ... and we are letting Gus go down there for most of the summer break ...” “And ... we'll be able to give Jenny Rebecca some quality time to herself with Gus at his Father's ... you didn't mind Michael spending time with her over Easter ...” reminded Lindsay. “That was different ...” Melanie was at pains to point out. “He came up here ... besides we can trust Michael ... whereas Brian ... “ “Don't you thinks he's paid enough?” “What ... letting Michael take the blame for something he did?“ shot back Melanie. “But then again we all know Michael's capable of lying to cover Brian's sorry ass ... but what if it had been Gus ... he could have killed him ...” “It wouldn't have happened if he'd had Gus with him ... and besides ... that was then ...” Lindz cut her short. “This is now ... and he's really trying ... you can't deny he loves Gus ...” “Maybe ... but it took long enough for him to remember he had a son ...” pointed out Melanie and Lindz sighed in exasperation. It would seem her partner would never cut Brian any slack; never accept the father of their child and while it was true that during Gus' early years, Brian wasn't really that much in evidence, he'd always loved his son, even though he couldn't admit it. And, over time, he eventually realized he could be the Father he wanted to be, not the Father he feared he might be. But by then, it was too late, Mel and Lindz had relocated to the great white north and Lindz always had at the back of her mind that distancing themselves from Brian was the main reason Mel had pushed for the move. But Lindsay had always been determined that Gus would know his Father and she knew how much these visits meant to Brian: especially now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two Days Later: Brian was half way down the path before the cab had come to a halt: he'd been watching out for them the last half-hour; he could have collected them from the airport, but he didn't go out much these days. “DAD!” Lindsay had to prevent Gus from leaping out of the car before it stopped. He didn't wait for the door to be opened for him and had the seatbelt off and was out of the vehicle before Brian reached the sidewalk and practically threw himself into his Father's arms. “Whoa there son ...” and Brian returned the hug and then pulled back to look at him. “I swear you've grown another two inches since I last saw you ...” smiled Brian and he ruffled the boy's hair. Gus was now eight years old and Brian hadn't seen him since the Spring Term Break. The cab driver had come around and opened the car door for Lindsay and then retrieved the suitcases and Gus' backpack from the trunk: Brian paid the man. “Thanks, Lindsay ... I ...” said Brian and he stopped; unable to finish his sentence least he gave away too much and he was afraid in any case that Gus would hear. But he probably wouldn't; not over the noise of the cab as it drove away. Brian and Lindsay kissed and she stroked his face with the back of her hand. “I don't think I'll ever get used to this ...” she smiled up at him; Brian's beard surprisingly soft to the touch. “Well ... you better get used to it ...” stated Brian, matter of factly and then he stooped to pick up the cases that had been deposited on the sidewalk. Gus had already taken charge of his backpack and was walking up the path away from them. “Dad ... can I go and see Buttons?” “I think you should get unpacked first ...” called his Mother, but then she saw the boy's crestfallen look and relented. “Okay ... go on then ... if it's alright with your Dad ...” and she looked at Brian. “He's waiting for you ... you'll find some carrots hanging up inside ...” Brian had to yell after him and he smiled as Gus took off around the back of the house and down to the stables. Buttons was a 6 year old Welsh cross pony; a 12 hands high gelding, chestnut in color and with a star. Brian had bought him for Gus the previous Christmas and had paid for riding lessons: a skill his son had picked up pretty quickly. Brian took the cases inside the house and deposited them in the hallway and now away from anyone who might see, he turned to Lindsay and gave her a big hug and held on. When he'd called her two nights before; checking that they were still coming, Lindz had managed to reassure him that she wouldn't break her promise that he could have Gus over the summer break. And now, standing in the hallway of Brian's house in West Virginia and hugging, he didn't have to say how much he needed this: she'd seen it in his eyes and could feel it in the way he held her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three Years Earlier: “Sonovabitch could have killed you ...” stated Debbie Novotny angrily and she stroked Michael's forehead. “Ma ... I keep telling you ... I was driving ... it was an accident ... I have a few abrasions ... some bruised ribs and a concussion ... nothing major ...” Michael tried to reassure her, but she just wasn't listening to reason. “Nothing major you say ... look at you ...” and he did look a sorry sight, sitting on the edge of the bed, bruised and battered as Ben was helping him to dress and they knew what was going on in Debbie's head. That Brian was probably drunk or high; out of his skull on something and had insisted on driving them back to the hotel and Michael sighed as he looked up at his husband. “Let's go home ...” he pleaded with him and Ben nodded and smiled weakly. He knew Michael; he knew he was lying and so did Debbie and they all wondered how many times Brian had got behind the wheel after having been partying. But this time, it seemed he'd ridden his luck too far. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michael owned a comic-book store; something that had been a childhood dream and one Brian had helped make possible by getting him to auction the Captain Astro First Edition comic he'd bought Michael for his thirtieth birthday. $10,000 and bingo;a down payment on Buzzy's Comic Book Store and Michael had become the proud new owner. Subsequently, Michael had been invited to speak on gay comic book heroes at a convention, but didn't want to go on his own. Unfortunately, his husband, Professor Ben Bruckner had to attend a residential course from college he couldn't get out of much to his annoyance: this sort of topic was right up his alley. Their foster-son, Hunter, was also at college, which meant he couldn't accompany Michael either, but secretly, Hunter had sighed in relief. He might be into comic books as much as the next young man, but attending a geeky convention wasn't his thing. Brian knew he'd been neglecting Michael of late; he'd been tied up with work or just hadn't bothered to turn up for dinner when a far more attractive proposition came up and so, when Michael asked him to go with him, Brian groaned and had tried to refuse. But those big brown eyes pleaded with him so much that Brian had eventually relented, though he was sure he would live to regret it. How right he was. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michael was glad of the drive there; he had time to kill with Ben and Hunter both being away and besides, he and Brian hadn't spent any time together of late and he was hoping to catch up with his friend. He knew Brian would never say, but he didn't think his friend had had things very easy of late and he wanted him to know he'd be there for him: just like the old times. The convention was being held in a hotel up north and Brian moaned at the cold and turned the heater in the vette on high. Michael offered to help with the driving, but for some reason Brian wouldn't let him. It would seem that he'd made up his mind he wasn't going to enjoy this weekend after all and nothing Michael could do would shake him out of it. Things didn't go well from the start. They'd had to set out really early and the weather had been foul and made the journey even longer than planned. Then, when they checked in, they discovered the hotel had over-booked the rooms and the only one available was a double. Brian groaned, but Michael grinned as they dumped their bags on the only bed in the only room available. “You promise to keep to your own side?” Brian asked him. “I am a married man ... remember ...” reminded Michael, feigning shock at Brian's suggestion that he might take advantage of the situation. “And you better remember that ...” came back Brian. “I don't want that husband of yours coming after me with a shotgun ...” Brian was more than a little pissed. He'd hoped he might find a little action while they were up here to break the monotony and always preferred that guys came to his territory, but sharing a room with Michael might make that difficult. They registered at the convention later that afternoon and spent the time before dinner wandering around the stalls that had already been set up and looking at the comic books and Brian found his attitude softening a little. Batman, Superman, Captain Astro and more: all those familiar comic book heroes from his childhood, bringing back the few good memories he had of those times. Times spent in Mikey's bedroom since they were both 14, as they poured over the stories; his friend acting them out and taking them away from that little place into a fantastic wonderland. Where heroes in capes and tights would swoop down and save them from monsters and villians and how often had Brian wished that might actually happen. More than once had Michael's bedroom been his sanctuary when Brian needed to escape his own home. An abusive, drunken Father and a cold-hearted Mother had left him bruised and feeling both unloved and unwanted; feelings compounded by a Father who repeated on a regular basis just how much he wished Brian had never been born and that he'd actually wanted him aborted. How Brian had longed for a caped crusader to come and carry him away to his lair and take care of him forever. But life was never going to be like that. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michael kept on talking at the dinner table and Brian found he'd consumed a couple of whiskeys and two bottles of wine all to himself, with Michael sticking to Pepsi: making the excuse of needing a clear head to give his talk in the morning. Brian wasn't really conscious of how much he was drinking, telling himself he deserved to relax and wind down a little, but was that the real reason, or was his large consumption of alcohol just because Brian was trying to block out Michael's inane conversation? Brian looked around the dining room; things were starting to look a little fuzzy, but he saw a few guys in pairs and one or two on their own and one or two not half bad. Seems like Michael's talk on gay comic book heroes might just have brought in the odd tasty morsel, but now he was too tired after their long drive and a little too wasted to be of much use to anyone and with Michael's assistance, Brian made it back up to their room. His friend undressed him and rolled him into bed; but not before Michael had guiltily surveyed the other man's body and ashamedly, Michael looked away before undressing down to tee and shorts and climbing in beside him; making sure he kept to his side of the bed. Christ; he'd hoped he'd gotten over those feelings. Even at 14, Brian was beautiful. A little geeky maybe, but those hazel eyes had just swallowed him up and, as he'd gotten older, Brian grew more beautiful each day and Michael had once hoped that Brian would return the feelings he had for his friend, but Brian's feelings for Michael had never been anything more than friendship. Michael knew Brian used him as a crutch; after all, he provided all the emotional support the other man needed, while Brian went elsewhere for sex and probably enjoyed the way his friend hung on his every word: almost worshipped Brian. But then if Michael wanted to waste his life in the vain hope that one day Brian might have feelings for him; kidding himself the man might one day feel the same way he did, then that was hardly Brian's fault. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Not surprisingly, Brian didn't want breakfast the next morning and made do with the coffee Michael made in their room. Michael showered first while Brian was coming to and after his second cup of strong, if disgusting coffee, Brian heaved himself up out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to take a pee. Michael was cleaning his teeth at the sink as Brian pulled off his shorts to step into the shower. Quickly, Michael turned his back. “Oh come on Michael ... it's not like you haven't seen it before ...” said Brian as he stepped inside the stall. Trying not to blush, Michael smiled weakly and pulled his robe around him tightly and, grabbing his toilet bag, headed back out to the bedroom and closed the bathroom door behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard the shower start to run. Michael had dressed before Brian came out of the bathroom and decided to go down to breakfast by himself. He yelled at Brian through the closed bathroom door: making the man promise he would come down and hear his talk. Brian promised he would, but Michael frowned; he knew this weekend wasn't really Brian's thing and would not be surprised if he didn't bother to turn up and couldn't help smiling when he saw Brian walk into the conference room just before he was about to get up and make his speech. Brian looked great; it was amazing what a couple of cups of coffee and a shower could do. Brian knew he hadn't really behaved well the night before, getting drunk at dinner and tuning out to what Michael was saying. But in fact it was hard to admit that he was actually a little jealous of him and what he had. Even more so since Gus had moved away. Brian had even tested the waters himself a little just lately, but he had a reputation that it seemed no one wanted him to forget. He was Brian Kinney; stud of Liberty Avenue. Not the marrying or settling down kind. And most guys took one look at him and saw him as just someone who wanted to fuck them; knowing that a man who looked like Brian could have anyone, so why would he want to settle for just one guy. So Brian's odd attempts at coupledome had left him feeling a little used and just a little more sad and lonely and yes, he was a little jealous of what Michael had. Michael was now married to a man he loved and had a foster-son and although Brian had a child of his own by his long time friend, Lindsay; a girl he'd met in college, he'd never really bothered to play much of a part in his son's life. Never thought he'd be any good at it until recently. Following several homophobic attacks and particularly nasty ones at that in Pittsburgh, Mel and Lindsay had decided to take their kids and move up to Toronto. Same-sex marriages were recognized up there and in actual fact, Michael and Ben had taken advantage of that when they were up there the year before. Though of course it didn't mean a damn thing once they crossed the border back into the US. But the men had never regretted doing it and had the piece of paper to prove that somewhere at least, their union was officially recognized. And knowing that up in Canada at least, their kids wouldn't be looked down on or treated with contempt just because they had two Moms, Mel and Lindz had moved their family up there. Their daughter, Jenny Rebecca, was Michael's, born this time to Melanie. But unlike Brian, Michael made frequent trips to TO in order to spend time with his child; Melanie always making him welcome whereas she always abused Brian and held him in little regard. At first, Brian had agreed to the girls moving away, but then realized just what he was giving up. But as Lindsay pointed out, making them stay in the Pitts wouldn't make up for all those years he hadn't been around in his son's life and so Brian had bitten the bullet and agreed not to object to them taking his son to another country; just at the point when he knew he wanted to play a bigger part in Gus' life: in his upbringing. But Lindsay promised him that Gus would know his Dad and Brian had kept her to that. The loft he lived in had once been described as a fuck-pad and Brian realized it was hardly the place to bring a young child back to. His advertising company, Kinnetik, was doing well and Ted Schmidt, friend and accountant, had told him he should invest some of his money. What better than in bricks and mortar. The house in West Virginia had started out as just that; an investment. But with stables and swimming pool and plenty of ground around it, it made an ideal home for when Gus came to stay and Brian wanted that to happen as often as possible. The first visit back, Brian had been a little nervous of having Gus all on his own for the week, but with help from Debbie, who was after all, practically Gus' Grandmother and who put him right on a few questions he had, the stay had been a huge success for both Father and son and Gus had enjoyed all his trips: either Lindsay would bring him down or they'd worked it out so that he could travel with Michael when he went up to see Jenny Rebecca and Gus was in danger of accumulating his own frequent flyer miles. The house was also a perfect venue to host any potential out-of-town clients; especially when Brian wanted to impress and give them a relaxed atmosphere in which, hopefully, to seal a contract. Of course he knew he couldn't have guys back to the house when Gus was with him, but that was okay. The rest of the time he would continue to live at the loft nearer the office and take guys there and now, looking at his watch, Brian was beginning to wish that's exactly where he was. Michael began his talk and Brian tried to look interested, but it wasn't long before his attention started to wander as he began to get bored. But then things started to perk up as he made a connection and found he'd caught the eye of a rather cute brunet in his mid-twenties who was sitting in the same row and who motioned to Brian to join him outside. Brian smiled; maybe this weekend wouldn't turn out a total loss after all. The guy introduced himself as Kyle: “Whatever ...” answered Brian, not bothering to give his own name. They fucked in a stall in the men's room and the guy asked Brian if he were staying at the hotel. Brian said yes, but don't expect second helpings. Sure he was cute, but Brian didn't do anyone twice. He'd tried to get to know someone better on a few occasions recently and hadn't been taken seriously. So why bother: why should he? After all, there were just too many guys and not enough time. “A client of mine's got a house not too far from here ... he's having a party tonight ... wanna come?” asked Kyle, as both men dressed themselves. “I could write down the address ...” “Okay ...” Brian answered him and took the business card Kyle had written the address down on. “Kyle Robinson ... Maitland Advertising of Cleveland?” asked Brian as he read the company name on the card. “Sure ... “ answered Kyle and Brian smiled. “Looks like we've more in common than I thought ...” and he handed Kyle one of his own cards: Kyle was impressed. “Whose party is this?” Brian then asked him: his mind was already working overtime. Maybe he could mix a little business with pleasure and pick up some new contacts for Kinnetik. Perhaps this weekend would be worth something after all. Back in the conference room, Michael couldn't help but see Brian disappear from the room with the guy following closely behind him. Obviously, something had come up that was far more important than listening to his talk and maybe this was just too much like old times. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Come with me Mikey ... I came here with you ... “ and Brian put his arms around Michael and drew him in. “You ran out on me ...” Michael reminded him. “But I came back ...” Brian pointed out. “And I promise I'll spend all day tomorrow with you ... reliving our youth ...” “You only want me to come so I can drive you back ... what am I gonna do while you're getting laid?” snorted Michael. “But how am I ever going to meet the man of my dreams if I keep turning down invitations?” asked Brian and he tilted his head to one side and smiled and Michael sighed: he could never refuse Brian anything when he turned on the charm. In the end, Brian promised him they'd only stay an hour, so Michael agreed to go with him, though he knew it was highly likely they'd be there all night. It was a large house set in grounds out of town and all the lights were on and the music was blaring when they arrived: just as well there were no close neighbors or the cops would probably have been called. The owner turned out to be none other than Harry Walker, CEO of Harvest Produce, one of the biggest fruit processing companies in the country. “Well ... this is a pretty nice set up you've got here ...” “Harry ...” replied their host, smiling and he and Brian shook hands. “Kyle called ... seems like you and he are in the same business ... maybe we could talk later ... to be honest I think the business needs a more imaginative advertising strategy ... but in the meantime ... feel free to explore ... I think you'll find something to your liking ...” and he laughed and slapped the ass of a young man that walked by. Brian nodded and looked around; several young men, obviously meant to be waiters but dressed only in bow ties and loin cloths, were passing among the crowd and handing out drinks. But on the trays were little dishes of rather interesting looking pills and something that was probably coke and not the fizzy kind. Brian smiled and introduced Michael. “Michael will have to refrain I'm afraid ... he's a married man up here for the comic book convention ... I'm just keeping him company ...” “There's a few comic book geeks ... no offense Michael ... here tonight ... maybe you can find someone to have a conversation with instead ... but have a drink in the meantime ...” “Just Pepsi for me ...” stated Michael. “I'm driving ...” and Harry called over a waiter and ordered Michael's drink. “Why don't you come with me Brian ... a discerning man like you ... I think there's a few young men here who might be of interest ...” and he took Brian by the arm. “You obviously have Michael trained well ...” he stated once out of the other man's earshot. “What can I say ... he's a sweetheart ... do anything for me ...” answered Brian and Harry laughed as he took Brian into the next room. Michael took his drink from the waiter and sighed and looked around. There were couples making out and one or two groups of up to about five men in each; all fawning over a young man and divesting him of his clothing. Absentmindedly, Michael wandered in the direction that Harry had taken Brian and it wasn't too long before he found him; lying on a chaise lounge, already half-naked with three very beautiful young men attending to his every need. Michael sighed and turned around and headed for the nearest exit and took his drink out onto the patio; taking a seat next to one of the outdoor heaters. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michael managed to find a couple of guys who shared his passion for comic books, but none of them were much interested in talking and then, to his surprise, two hours later, Brian appeared at his side. “Are you ready Michael?” he asked him. “You wanna leave ... already?” asked his friend, unable to believe Brian was wanting to go and it was just after midnight. “I've had anyone here worth having ...” his friend stated and Michael got up from his seat as Brian swallowed the last of his beer and put the empty bottle down on the nearest table. Turning around sharply, Brian bumped into Kyle. “Whoa there ...” said the other man. “Little too much to drink huh? ... I guess you older guys can't put it away like you used to ...” and before Brian could answer, Kyle had turned away and disappeared through the crowd. “What's his problem?” asked Michael and Brian frowned. “He's pissed 'cos I wouldn't fuck him twice ... older guy ... who the fuck does he think he is ...” and Brian made to go after him, but Michael took him by the arm. “It's not worth getting into a fight over ...” he stated and he steered Brian away. Maybe his friend had taken a drink or two and may even have sampled a little of the other substances on offer, but at 34, Brian could hold his own with any man 10 years his junior. “Did you get to talk to Harry?” asked Michael and Brian nodded. “Just a little ... got his number and he's made an appointment to come down to the Pitts ... just as well I got to him when I did ... I'll be lucky if he remembers our conversation ... he looked like he was going to get too tweaked to know what he's doing before long ...” They walked out of the house and down the steps and Michael stopped by the driver's door of the vette and held out his hand and Brian looked at him. “Keys ...” reminded Michael. “You don't have to drive Mikey ... I only had one drink ...” “And ...” Michael asked him. “And that's all ...” answered Brian, a little peeved that Michael was doubting his word. “You are kidding me?” said his friend disbelievingly and Brian shook his head. “Nope ... one drink ... Scout's honor .. I'd planned to talk business with Harry ...” and he held up his hand in a mock salute. Michael narrowed his eyes. Brian seemed okay and if he said he'd only had one drink and nothing more, who was he to disbelieve him and walking around to the passenger door, Michael got in. A mile down the road and Brian wound down the window. “Christ ... Brian ... it's freezing ...” moaned Michael and he drew his coat around him and reached for the heater. But Brian was becoming warmer ... too warm in fact and he'd started to sweat. He blinked and drew the back of his hand across his eyes as the road ahead started to blur and then double vision set in and he started to get the shakes: Brian tried in vain to clear his head. The vette swerved alarmingly and Michael looked over at him. “I thought you hadn't been drinking ...” and though he could detect the smell of alcohol on Brian, it could just be the result of being in the heavy atmosphere of the house leaving a lingering scent: or was Brian's erratic driving caused by something else? “Brian ... what are you on ... what have you taken?” demanded Michael, now alarmed and he grabbed the wheel as the car hit the curb with Brian looking as if he were about to pass out. Michael pulled the wheel hard and yelled, but it was too late. Luckily they were both wearing their seat belts, but when the car bounced up off the curb and hit the tree by the side of the road, Brian's head made contact with the side window and then all the windows shattered as the vehicle came to rest. Michael had realized what was going to happen and had braced himself; but his head hit the door frame and he suffered a few cuts and felt the pain in his ribs as miraculously, the vette stayed upright and wedged against the tree. There was silence and then Brian moaned. Michael may have lost consciousness for a moment, but he was soon alert to their situation. At least he couldn't smell gasoline, so hopefully, they weren't in any imminent danger of the vehicle catching fire and he looked over at Brian. They both needed medical attention; the vette was a write-off and obviously the Police would be involved as well as the insurance company. Thank God no one else was involved and Michael reached for his cell phone and then he hesitated: he could see car headlights in the distance and knew it wouldn't be long before they had company. Carefully, his ribs hurting like hell, he managed to climb out of the car and make his way around to the other side of the vehicle. Using all his strength, he yelped in pain as he wrenched open the driver's door. “Move over ...” he yelled at Brian, but the man didn't react. “MOVE OVER ...” Michael yelled louder and vacantly, Brian turned to look at him. Michael didn't like what he saw: Brian's eyes were glazed and he obviously couldn't comprehend what was being said to him. He also had several deep lacerations along his cheek, jawbone and neck from the broken side window; the blood soaking into his coat. Michael looked down the road; the car whose lights he'd seen would soon be upon them and so he lowered himself into the vette and forcibly pushed Brian over onto the passenger side. Michael had made up his mind, when the Police came he would say he was driving; that he swerved to avoid an animal and wrecked the vette: that it was an accident and if he were found in the driver's seat it would be far more plausible. He knew that when they did the blood tests, something was bound to show up in Brian's system and if it could be proved he'd been driving while incapable it could end up with a prosecution: Brian would lose his license and it could have an adverse effect on his business if he was found to have been driving while drunk or high, but if everyone believed Michael had been driving it could go down as an unfortunate accident. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Michael slid off the bed and got gingerly to his feet and with Ben supporting him, sat down in the wheelchair; his Mother picked up his belongings and they made their way out the door. “Wait ... I have to see Brian ...” stated Michael, but his Mom pointed his finger at him. “You're doing no such thing, Michael Charles Novotny”. “I knew that guy was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him when you were both 14 ... and he's never proven me wrong yet ... he can sort his own problems out ...” Michael looked up at Ben, who shrugged at him. With Debbie in this mood, it would be all hell to pay to ignore her instructions and without stopping by Brian's room, they left the hospital. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brian was turned away from the door and what little of his face Vic could see, he knew how upset the man was and he heard Brian sniff. Brian blinked as he heard the chair scrape across the floor and slowly turned over and was taken aback at finding Vic there, but his first concern was for Michael. “How's Mikey ... do you have any news?” Brian asked. “He's okay ... they discharged him ... Ben and Debbie took him home ...” answered Vic and Brian managed to nod, despite the heavy bandaging around his face and neck. “Surprised to see you here ...” Brian admitted. “I thought you'd want nothing to do with me ...” he stated hoarsely and Vic raised an eyebrow. “I thought Michael was driving ...” he said knowingly and then he put his hand on Brian's arm. “I know when Michael's lying ... but luckily the Police don't” said Vic quietly. “He told them he'd swerved to avoid a deer and wrecked the vette ... they believed him ... no one else was involved so it's been written up as an accident ...” and then Vic sighed. “Were you wasted ... had you taken something?” he asked him and Brian hesitated and then shrugged. “I didn't think so ... I mean ... I only remember having one drink ... nothing else ... but they say I had enough pharmaceuticals in my blood to stop a horse ... so ... I ... I guess I must have ...” and Brian closed his eyes. How could he have been that fucking stupid? He wasn't a kid any longer; he had a child and a successful business with a multi-million dollar turnover and people who relied on him for their employment and yet he was still going out and getting high. He'd put himself and anyone else who might have been on the road that night at risk: and worse still, he could have killed his best friend. Vic got up and took off his coat and put it over the back of the chair and sat down and Brian looked at him questioningly. “Someone's gotta stick around and make sure you're okay ...” he answered him and made himself comfortable: Vic was obviously in for the long haul and Brian felt a lump came to his throat. Brian didn't have much recollection of being brought to the hospital. He could vaguely remember the flashing lights and the sound of the siren and being helped from the car, but then nothing more until he was being examined. And then they'd then given him a shot of something and he hadn't remembered anything else until he heard Michael calling his name. As soon as he was allowed, Michael had insisted the nurse take him in to see Brian, though his friend was barely conscious at the time. Michael had taken his hand and Brian had stirred. “Well at least I didn't kill you ...” stated Michael for the benefit of the nurse and anyone else who might be listening and Brian had tried to make sense of what he was saying. Though he couldn't really remember too much about the crash, he did have a strong impression that he'd been driving, not Michael. But from the man's words and the expression on his face, it seemed he didn't want Brian to say very much and then the doctor had come in and given Brian the results of the blood test. Enough chemicals in his system to stock a drugstore and slowly, Brian realized what Michael was doing. He was taking the blame for the accident; letting everyone know that he was driving and not Brian and Brian closed his eyes and with the pain killers still taking effect, he drifted off back to sleep. The next time he woke up, there was a Highway Patrolman standing over him. Not for one moment did the officer think Michael would take the rap for a wreck he wasn't responsible for and so when Brian said he couldn't remember anything after Michael had driven them away from the party, the Patrolman just nodded and filled out the necessary forms. But since the accident, four days ago, no one had come to see Brian and when he asked how Michael was and was informed that his friend's family had arrived, Brian thought that Debbie would come bustling in, Mothering him and making sure things were okay. But, when she didn't, it began to dawn on him slowly that she knew he'd been driving, not Michael: had believed that Brian had probably been out of his head and nearly killed her son and no Mother could forgive that. Initially the hospital staff had asked him who they should contact and Brian thought the only one who would really want to know was Lindsay. But Gus wasn't very well and Lindsay didn't really want to leave him. Mel didn't give two hoots, and after a quick conversation with Brian to ascertain that none of his injuries were life-threatening, Lindsay had sent her love and said she'd get down to see him as soon as Gus was better. Brian didn't tell her that he'd suffered facial injuries and the phonecall was the last he'd heard from her. Vic stayed all night and then the following morning went to the hotel, paid Brian's bill and collected his things; Ben had already collected Michael's bag and then Vic had returned to the hospital in time for when the doctor came round to see Brian again. “We hope to transfer you later today ...” the doctor informed Brian as he took off the bandages to check out his handiwork. It was a relatively small country hospital with limited facilities. Brian would have to go back to the city for the plastic surgery required to repair the deep scars on his face. Brian had asked if Vic could stay while the bandages were being removed. He trusted Vic and could do with the support right now, even though he didn't like to admit it. The men had always been friends and he'd known Vic since he was 14 as he was Debbie's younger brother and also gay. Vic smiled and agreed. He liked Brian; he'd always reminded him of himself and, as an older gay man, Vic had been the one both his nephew and Brian had turned to in their teenage years in order to try and make some sense of it all. But Brian couldn't help but see the flicker of dismay that had appeared momentarily on Vic's face as the bandages were removed and Brian demanded a mirror. “You do realize these are only a temporary measure ...” the doctor sought to reassure him and Brian thought for one moment he was going to throw up as he looked at his reflection; he'd never thought it would look like this. Being constantly told by unloving parents that he'd never amount to anything, he'd striven to be as successful in business as he could. Brian's choice of advertising as a career had been obvious: one thing he knew was the value of a good presentation and to Brian, how he looked had always been how he'd measured his own worth. He may have never felt any love from his family, but he knew his looks could get him all the men he'd ever desired; that had never been a problem. Guys at least had always made him feel wanted: loved even, at least for the next ten minutes. But who would want him now; looking like this? But maybe this was his punishment for taking one risk too many and nearly killing Michael; the one friend who had always been there for him. Michael had gone to the clubs and bars with him; keeping him company until Brian found his trick of the night or would drive him home when he was too stoned to do so himself. He propped him up; putting him to bed when Brian turned up drunk after visiting his Father; the man who always made him feel utterly worthless, but who was quite willing to take his money when he didn't have enough to last until next payday. Michael was always there, supporting him; telling him just how great he looked and how wonderful he was and how had he repaid him. The doctor made a few notes on his clipboard and told Brian they would inform him about transferring hospitals and Brian had nodded, but immediately after the doctor left the room, he threw back the bedclothes and swung himself out of bed. “Vic ... pass me my clothes ...” he instructed and Vic looked at him. “What are you doing ...” but before he could continue, Brian got rather unsteadily to his feet. It took him a moment to get his sea-legs and Vic got up to steady him. “I want my clothes,“ Brian instructed him again. “You're taking me home ...” Vic tried to protest but Brian shook his head and the older man knew Brian just wasn't listening. Reluctantly, Vic retrieved Brian's clothing from the bag he'd brought from the hotel; the clothing from the accident had been ruined and subsequently destroyed and he now helped the man to dress. Apart from the facial lacerations, Brian's injuries were the same as Michael's, but he was still finding it difficult to breathe and he had to sit back down while Vic helped him on with his shirt. Then, ignoring the doctor's protestations, Brian discharged himself: he had no intention of being transferred to another hospital. Vic was carrying Brian's bag and now hesitated and rubbed his chin as they started to walk down the hall and then he took Brian by the elbow and brought him to a halt. “You know ... I wanna ask the doctor something before we leave ...” Brian sighed as Vic dropped the bag on the floor and indicated a chair. Brian started to protest, but Vic was pretty determined about this and made his way back. “Is there anything he needs ... anything I can do for him?” Vic asked and the doctor nodded. “Just be there for him ... I get the feeling he doesn't like asking for assistance ... so he's gonna need someone ...” “And it's not unusual for people to refuse follow up treatment right away, “ he continued. “Sometimes they need to think about it all ... but in the meantime he'll need plenty of rest ... you may also want to get him to think about counseling ...” “Other than that ... the stitches will need to be removed in a couple of days ... but you can do that for him if he doesn't want to see anyone at this time ... he could do it himself ... though where the lacerations are may make this a bit difficult ... come with me and I'll get you a suture removal kit ...” Going to the store room, the doctor retrieved the small kit comprised of forceps and a tiny pair of scissors: he also gave him some painkillers. “If there's any sign of infection or you're worried about anything ... take him to your nearest hospital ... that would be ... “ “Allegheny General ...” informed Vic and the doctor nodded. “I know the scars look bad now ... but with some work ... it's pretty amazing what can be achieved these days ... tell him I said good luck ...” and the doctor smiled at Vic and returned to his duties. Brian was beginning to get impatient: the sooner he got out of the hospital the better and Vic saw the relief in his face as he joined him in the hallway: Stopping Brian from stooping down to gather up his bag, Vic retrieved it for him and took him out to the car and drove away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Initially, Vic thought Brian would want to return to the loft, but that was far too close to everyone and he'd asked Vic to take him out to the house instead and for the moment, he would have to make do with what he'd taken to the hotel for the convention. Brian had dozed on and off during the journey and had fully expected Vic to turn around and drive away straight after depositing him at the house, but Vic had taken Brian's bag and helped him inside. Despite Brian's initial reluctance, he'd allowed Vic to take him upstairs and put him to bed. Brian hesitated for a moment and then frowned when Vic held out the painkillers and glass of water and he wondered just what he and the doctor had discussed behind his back. But inwardly, Brian had to admit that it actually felt good to have at least one person looking out for him and he took the tablets and washed them down with the water: it didn't take long until Brian had fallen asleep. Instead of just leaving him there, Vic had taken Brian's keys. He'd checked the kitchen; it had obviously been quite a while since Brian had been at the house, there was no food in the refrigerator or cupboards and Vic started to mentally compile a list of the things he needed. His first stop though was the loft and he collected everything he thought Brian might require, including the laptop that had been left on his desk. Then Vic went down to the grocery store and picked up the provisions and necessities that would last Brian at least for a few days and then he drove back out to West Virginia. Brian didn't hear Vic let himself back into the house and was still dozing when the man came upstairs later with the tray. Slowly, Brian became conscious of someone standing over him. “Mikey ...” he whispered. “No ... it's Vic ...” stated the other man gently; he'd put the tray down on the dresser and now helped Brian sit up. “You should eat something ...” and Vic retrieved the tray and placed it on the bed. “It's only chicken soup ... won't take much to get it down ...” Slowly, Brian picked up the spoon, he didn't have the strength to refuse and in actual fact, started to realize just how hungry he was. “Careful ... it's still a little hot ...” Vic informed him and Brian took a tentative mouthful. “It's good ...” he stated and Vic watched as Brian ate. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brian slept for the rest of the day and most of the next; a little more relaxed now away from the hospital and in his own house and then the following morning, Vic found him standing in front of the bathroom mirror; doing nothing: just staring at his reflection. “The doc said those stitches could come out right about now ... he even gave me the right things to use ... save you going back to the hospital ...” and he disappeared into his own room and came back a few minutes later and he held out the suture removal kit to Brian. Brian hesitated. “I can do it if you like ...” offered Vic, but Brian shook his head and took the kit from him and turned back to the mirror. Slowly, Brian opened the kit and took out the instruction leaflet. All you had to do was grasp the knot of the stitch with the forceps and cut right below the knot; ensuring you didn't drag the exposed suture through the wound. Brian was still shaky and combined with trying to see what he was doing in the mirror, tried a couple of times to work the forceps and scissors, but without any success; getting frustrated with himself and angry for allowing his nerves to get the better of him and in front of Vic. “Here ... let me ...” offered Vic and he held out his hand. Brian hesitated for a moment and then handed Vic the forceps and scissors: keeping still, Brian allowed Vic to remove the sutures for him. He was expecting it to hurt and was almost disappointed that it didn't. It would serve him right if it had. Vic stood back to admire his handiwork. “The doc says it's amazing what they can do now ...” he ventured, but Brian ignored the remark and looked back in the mirror. He was grateful for Vic's help and while it was good to have someone to look out for him, he still didn't like the fact that Vic had been discussing him with the doctor. It made him feel useless; pathetic and hated the thought that he couldn't cope. “Talking about me behind my back ...” said Brian flatly and in the mirror, he saw Vic's embarrassed expression. Brian closed his eyes: the man was only trying to do right by him and as Vic went to walk away; thinking Brian was probably best left on his own right now, Brian turned and called after him. “Vic ... I ... I never really thanked you for sticking by me ... I know I'm not going to be easy to be around right now ...” and he saw Vic chuckle. “Okay ... when have I ever been easy ...” conceded Brian, unable to resist smiling himself. “Thanks ... I ... I do appreciate it ... you being here ...” Vic smiled in acknowledgment and left Brian on his own: for someone who'd made it a policy of staying true to himself and never apologizing for his actions, that was one hell of an admission. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The only one who seemed not to be judging Brian was Vic and he'd gone back to the house he shared with his sister to collect some of his things and moved into one of Brian's spare rooms. Debbie had been furious; calling him a Judas and virtually disowning him. Vic was sure that his sister would eventually calm down, but he was glad to be out of that household and actually pitied Michael, who was bound not to hear the end of her griping that his Uncle was siding with the enemy. Vic was the only one who seemed concerned about Brian's welfare and as he'd recently been looking for alternative accommodation, moving into Brian's was the ideal solution: Debbie had asked her boyfriend to move in with her and Vic didn't feel like playing gooseberry. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vic had been staying at Brian's now for a few weeks. The first week, Brian had spent a lot of time in bed, recuperating, but had then begun getting up, but spending most of his days in the living room in front of the TV; an activity that was very un-Brian-like. Vic cooked for him, not that Brian had much of an appetite and cleaned the house and did the laundry. Brian had given up telling him not to bother, because the man obviously wasn't taking any notice of him and he decided that Vic would probably get bored on his own account and eventually leave him alone. Lucky for Brian, Vic didn't. Mikey wasn't returning Brian's calls: none of his friends were and with everyone but Vic shunning him, Brian felt as isolated and lonely now as he had as a child: before he'd met Michael. It seemed practically everyone was of the same opinion; that Brian had been driving while under the influence and his recklessness and downright stupidity had put his friend in danger: a situation that could have cost Michael his life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few weeks later, Debbie's boyfriend, Lt. Carl Horvath, managed to obtain the Highway Patrolman's report. It had been completed perfectly, which in itself was no small miracle, but the upshot was that to all intents and purposes, it had been a straight forward accident and nothing more. Debbie hurrumphed and refused to accept it: she knew her son and she knew when he was lying and eventually, his Mom wore him down and Michael finally admitted that Brian had been driving and Debbie told Carl she wanted the Police to press charges. Carl looked at her and sighed and asked her if she really meant that and Debbie nodded. “You bet your ass I do ...” But then Carl reminded her that Brian himself had sustained the worst injuries and that no other vehicle had been involved. But more significantly, the little matter of Michael making a false report to the Patrolman when he'd made the statement that'd he'd been driving at the time of the accident might not look too good for him and that maybe Brian had been punished enough. Debbie had sighed. Carl was right, Michael could get into a whole load of trouble for lying, but she would make damn sure Brian would pay, but Vic hadn't really taken on board just how much the family had ostracized Brian and how hard the man was hurting, until he came back one evening from his volunteer work at the Liberty House hospice. It was late and the TV was still on and Vic looked in to say goodnight and hoping to possibly get Brian to go to bed himself and was dismayed to discover that the man had been hitting the hard stuff and was obviously very angry about something and practically in tears. Vic didn't try and stop him from taking another drink, he knew that would only annoy Brian more and instead sat down beside him and took himself the drink he was offered. “They won't let me talk to him ...” Brian had said eventually; his voice breaking and Vic nodded. “Don't worry ... they'll come around ... I can't see Michael ignoring you forever ...” Brian shook his head. “Not Mikey ... Gus ...” spat Brian and he took another swallow of his drink. “I called ... asked to talk to my son ... but it seems like someone got in first ... and I bet I know who that fucking bitch was ...” “Just the excuse Melanie needed to tell me I could no longer be part of my son's life ... she's always hated me ... she knows I've always been close to Lindsay and this was just what she needed to keep them away from me ...” and he threw the remainder of his drink down this throat. It hadn't taken long for Brian to realize that Debbie would eventually wear Michael down so much that he'd tell her the truth: that Brian had been driving at the time of the crash, not him and she probably thought he should be grateful they hadn't told the authorities. The tears that Brian had been holding back threatened to spill over and Vic reached out and put his hand at the back of Brian's neck; rubbing it gently. Christ; talk about kicking a man when he's down and he took the empty glass out of Brian's hand and set it down on the coffee table. “It's still early ... things will cool off when people have calmed down ...” but Vic wasn't sure even he believed his own words and he was damned sure Brian didn't. Brian felt like he'd been kicked in the gut; the thought that he might never see his son again overwhelming and on top of everything else. He could probably have weathered being treated like an outcast by most people he'd thought were his friends, but being ignored by Michael hurt like hell. He knew he hadn't spent as much time with him as he could since Ben had been around, but at least Michael had always been there when he needed him. But now, when he needed him the most; when he wasn't even allowed access to his own son; his best friend shunned him along with the rest. Vic heaved Brian up off the sofa; he knew the man's ribs must still be a bit sore, but with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, Brian didn't feel it and half-walking, half being carried by Vic, he was taken upstairs where Vic undressed him down to his underwear and put him to bed: Brian probably didn't even realize he was still crying when he fell asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A couple of months later and Brian's ribs and bruises were healed, but he'd been unable to shave owing to the unevenness of his flesh and the tenderness he was still experiencing. He looked at his reflection in the mirror: he'd not bothered to tidy himself up of late, but he needed to get back at least a little self-respect and making himself presentable; even though he intended going nowhere, was a start. “That suits you ...” stated Vic. The bathroom door had been open as he'd passed by and he stopped; he could see Brian standing in front of the mirror and trimming his beard and Brian smiled weakly as Vic carried on with what he was doing. After he'd finished, Brian stood back and studied himself; the beard was now neat and tidy and not half bad, but he could feel the scars beneath and still refused to even consider the surgery that would remove them; they served to remind him of his stupidity. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brian found he didn't have the heart or the enthusiasm to go back into the office and it didn't help that Ted, who had become a good friend before the accident as well as being the company accountant, was also one of Michael's best friends. Whenever Brian called in, Ted had always been decidedly cool towards him; Brian could hear the hostility in the man's voice and whereas in the past he would have said 'fuck 'em ... I'm the boss ... who the hell do they think they are?' since the accident, his nerves were shot to pieces. It was bad enough that Vic had seen the scars and not just the physical ones at that; he couldn't let anyone else see how badly he'd been affected by the accident and by what people thought of him and increasingly, Brian began to take a backseat in the business; handing more and more over to Ted and Cynthia, his PA. Brian hardly ventured out of the house now except to walk on the grounds: the TV and the internet his only outlets, apart from jerking off in the showers. Vic did his best to encourage Brian to socialize, but the man just shook his head and Vic could see how Brian was starting to retreat inside himself; hardly talking at all: not even to him and avoided making contact with anyone else. “Brian ... you can't go on like this ... even you must see that ...” Vic had stated one evening after dinner and when Brian had practically eaten nothing: again. He'd lost weight, despite the fact that he was doing very little, if any, physical exercise. “Maybe you should see someone ...” “I'm not going to no fucking shrink ...” came back the answer and Vic sighed and then got up and retrieved a notebook and pencil from the kitchen drawer and he dropped them down in front of Brian. “I know you've got a lot of anger and frustration just burning you up inside ... and I know you've never found it easy to talk about how you feel ...” Brian frowned; unsure of where this conversation was heading and then Vic continued. “Why don't you write down how you're feeling ... then maybe you can work out where you're headed ...” and he patted Brian's shoulder and collected the dirty dishes from the table and took them over to the dishwasher. Brian sighed and picked up the pencil and rolled it around in his fingers. What the hell was Vic on about; wanting him to write down how he was feeling. But the man was right; he'd never been able to verbally communicate his emotions; always seeing any display of sentimentality or words of kindness as a sign of weakness. For a born copywriter, in this instance, Brian found putting words on paper incredibly difficult; as if even he were too ashamed or confused to get his feelings out in the open. Initially, he began to doodle on the page and gradually, the doodles began to form words. Friendship Betrayal Love Father Son Pain And then Brian drew a line through the words and then another and another; his pencil moving quickly now over the paper until all the words were obliterated and he sat back in his chair and he frowned. He remembered the last three words he'd written: Father, son, pain. Brian had hoped so much not to repeat the experiences of his childhood with his own son, but now it would seem he wouldn't get the chance to be a real Father to Gus and then Brian got up from his chair and walked upstairs. Gus' room. He'd been avoiding going in there since his telephone conversation with Mel: it was too much of a reminder of how he was missing his son, but he loved this room and it was good to have some of Gus' possessions around him and, sitting down on the bed, it was easier to imagine the boy there with him. “Dad ... can we go swimming later ... I don't need the floats any more ...” Gus had stated proudly, when he'd last been there. The weather was still a little cool, but the pool was heated and Brian had joined him in the water; swimming alongside him and giving him every encouragement, but had made him promise not to go anywhere near the pool without him. During his visits from Canada, Gus had started to accumulate a few things that he'd left behind; familiar possessions that would make him feel right at home the minute he arrived back. Brian walked over to the shelves and picked up one of the books he'd got for Gus, though he probably already had it; Winnie the Pooh. This book, along with the Sesame Street series, had always been Gus' favorites and they'd read them together, though Brian had made sure it was Gus who read most and out loud so he could practice his reading. Looking around, Brian realized these really were the only books in the house. Brian only ever read the newspapers and trade mags; he'd never been one for novels, even as a child and as an adult he'd never found the time: something else had always come up and the only other reading matter was the occasional comic book he'd pick up from time to time in Mikey's shop. Kid's books were great; filled with characters and stories a young imagination could believe; before cynicism and the harsh realities of life set in. No one really told stories how they really were, decided Brian; that life was a total bitch and it didn't matter how hard you tried, there were always circumstances that kicked you in the gut: always someone who'd grind you down; enjoy seeing you hurting. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Over the next couple of weeks, a seed of an idea started to germinate in Brian's head. He still couldn't bring himself to venture out. He knew people would have heard what had happened, but as far as anyone outside of his immediate family and friends were concerned, it was still an unfortunate accident. But everyone would look at him with the beard and know he must be covering something up. He could just hear what they'd be saying. “There's Brian Kinney ... poor guy ... got his face cut up in a car wreck ...” and the one thing Brian hated more than anything else was pity. Vic had once tried to ask Brian why he didn't consider the plastic surgery, but Brian had cut him off. The scars were deep and wide and would require extensive work; something Brian just didn't think he could put himself through and besides, they were a reminder of just how stupid he'd been. Brian knew that many a time he'd driven after having been pretty wasted or high the previous night; even when he was going to have Gus the following day. Anything he'd taken the night before would still have been in his system and he was damn lucky he'd never had an accident before. But what if one day he'd had his son with him and his judgment wasn't as it should have been? If anything happened to Gus, he'd never live with himself: the guilt would probably kill him. No, it was much better all round to stay at the house and cut himself off from everyone who knew him; everyone who might feel sorry for him and to make sure he never did anything like it again: using the beard to hide not just the scars, but to mask his feelings: even from himself. But what the fuck was he going to do with the rest of his life and then Brian started to think seriously about the idea that had come to him previously. Brian's advertising campaigns had always had the most memorable copy-writing underlining them. He always came up with the exact words necessary to sell a product or a service. Why couldn't he employ that skill elsewhere? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Present Day: “How are you?” asked Lindsay as Brian eventually pulled away from their hug. “Good ...” came the reply and Lindsay had tilted her head to one side. Brian blinked and tried to smile; she always could see right through him. “Better now ...” he said eventually and she smiled back at him. Gus was still down at the stables and Lindsay took off her coat and left it in the hall. Vic had been working in the kitchen; he'd hung back, not wanting to intrude on Brian's reunion with his son and close friend, but now he and Lindsay hugged and Vic took the bags up to their rooms. “So ... how many screen plays is it now?” Lindsay asked him as she and Brian headed for the kitchen. “Four ...” replied Brian. “And I'm almost done with the one I'm working on ...” “Have you seen any of them ...” he asked, almost coyly and looking back over his shoulder at her as he poured out the coffee that had just been made. Lindsay grinned. “Every one of them ... much to Melanie's disgust ...” “I can believe that ...” came the reply and Brian chuckled and handed her a cup of the hot liquid. “And every one of them broke my heart ...” Lindsay continued. “Who knew you could write like that ... and about heteros ... “ “Wasn't easy ...” chuckled Brian, “... considering my limited experience with pussy ... luckily I have a good memory ... and a good imagination ...” Lindsay couldn't help blushing at Brian's reference to the few times they'd slept together in college during something they both tended to think of as their 'experimentation period'. “Well ... you certainly seem to attract top names to appear in them ... and you've made quite a reputation for yourself ... even though people don't really know who you are ...” “And I'd like to keep it that way ...” stated Brian as he took his drink to the table and Lindsay followed him. After the accident, Brian had started to write the odd short story, for his own amusement originally and as a way of keeping occupied, but with a thought at the back of his mind that maybe he'd send them off to a publisher and see if they might be interested. The more Brian wrote, the more intriguing his stories became, with twists and turns and unexpected developments. He'd give depth into his characters and make their adventures more and more compelling. And then one day he got a phone call from a Hollywood film producer. They'd been given one of his manuscripts along with his telephone number and they were interested in making his story into a movie. It needed a little re-working to turn it into a screen play, but if he was willing to talk to them and they could come to an agreement about the changes, it could end up being quite a lucrative venture and they even asked if he had anything else they could see. Brian had turned open-mouthed to a very tight-lipped Vic, who was in the process of tidying up the living room and trying to look the picture of innocence. “Do I need to ask how they got my story?” asked Brian pointedly, after he'd put down the phone. He'd noticed Vic hanging around while he was taking the phonecall, something the man didn't normally do, not that Brian got many phonecalls these days. Vic knew Brian liked his privacy and the very fact that he appeared to be listening in while all the while trying to look disinterested got Brian wondering from the start. “I did say I had the odd show business connection ...” Vic had said. “I know ... you told me ... you always kept telling me ... you and Judy ...” came back Brian, still trying to make sense of what he'd actually been offered. But Vic did indeed have a friend who worked for a movie studio and knew just the right person to pass on Brian's story to. Brian frowned; he didn't really need to work. He was still CEO of Kinnetik, even though he now had nothing to do with running the business. But maybe this was just what he needed: a new direction in his life. The producer was so enthusiastic, he agreed to come to WV. Fortunately, never having met Brian before, he didn't know his recent history or that the beard was anything more than his normal appearance and he agreed that only he would contact Brian regarding any changes that the studio thought were necessary. Subsequently, after a not unreasonable amount of reworking, Brian's first effort had been a smash hit, attracting critical acclaim for being a movie that defied the mold and since then Brian's screen plays had hit the top five mark consistently and he discovered he was on to a winning, if unusual, formula. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Justin ... you don't mind that Jodie stays in with us tonight do you?” asked Daphne as she handed him the bowl of popcorn. Having been best friends since school, cozy nights in with popcorn and a DVD were a frequent occurrence: neither of them had much money since going out on their own and this was one of the cheaper forms of entertainment. “No ... that's okay,” came the reply and Daphne put the DVD into the player and popped the top off her beer; she handed another one to Justin and picked up the remote. “JODIE ... WILL YOU COME ON ... IT'S STARTING ...” yelled Daphne as she sat back next to Justin and he winced; his friend shouting almost directly into his ear and she dived into the popcorn he was holding. Most young people would have preferred the back row at the movies; but that was an option not open to them with Justin being gay, even though there was a time when Daphne had feelings for him that were more than just friendship. But that nonsense was thankfully over and forgotten and always comfortable in each other's presence, Daphne kicked off her shoes and draped her legs over Justin's knees. Jodie rushed in and plonked herself down on the other side of Justin, who groaned as the titles came up. “A chick flick ...” “Well ... what did you expect ...” came the voices in unison and Daphne grinned at him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 90 minutes later and it wasn't just the girls who were sniffling and looking for hankerchiefs, though Justin would never admit it. “That ... was just ... the saddest thing ...” stuttered Jodie and Daphne blew her nose. “I wasn't expecting that ... I thought they were going to go off and get married ...” she sniffed and Justin pushed Daphne's legs off his lap and reached over to the coffee table and picked up the DVD case; he turned it over and read the back. “Well no wonder ... it's one of that asshole Brian Kinney's ... didn't you see who'd written the screen play when you rented it?” asked Justin and Daphne shook her head. “I just liked who's in it ... it sounded like a great story ... I didn't think about who'd written it ...” Justin shook his head. “Well ... if you wanted a movie with a happy ending ... that was a pretty dumb choice ...” he informed her and Daphne groaned and slumped back in her seat. To be continued. Very many thanks to Lois who puts up with my constant re-writes and to both her and Judy for their continued friendship