Title: Alternate Realities
By : Phoenix Ghost_PG
Rating: Adults Only
Category: Fanfiction
Characters: Justin Taylor, Daphne Chanders, Emmett Honeycutt, Brian Kinney, Debbie Novotny, Michael Novotny, Ted Schmidt,
Lindsay Peterson, Melanie Marcus, Gus, Cynthia, Jennifer Taylor, Tucker, Molly Taylor, Craig Taylor,
Chris Hobbs, OMC's and OFC's.
Genre: TWISTED Canon, What IF? OCC, AU, Drama, General/Misc. Angst/Romance, and Dark Humor
Warnings: Strictly OCC, AU, Justin/OMC, Brian/OMC Brian/Justin,
Very OOC, and Anti-Michael, Anti-Melanie & Lindsay, with graphic language, and soon to come, a lot of frustration of an explicit sexual nature, acted out in daydreams, at first…*g*
WARNINGS:None at this time...Only that,
Please remember, this is a twisted some canon OCC, AU, so please no bunched up Canon panties, because I have knocked this one out of the ballpark with my obvious artistic liberty and such, okay?
And, once again for those of you annoyed by all of the warnings, I'm just covering my ass.*g*
Summary: A What IF OCC AU: Justin Taylor is sad and he's VERY bored. Sad because his lover of several years is a cunt! Bored with no spark left inside of him, he feels like a wash out, a has been.
So, his best friend Daphne Chanders-Coi sets him up on an adventure to top all of them.
Brian Kinney is desperate! And, he owes a lot of people a lot of money too. Especially his child support and alimony payments.
Now jobless and blackballed, he can no longer find employment doing what he once loved.
So, when his x wife's wife calls and gives him an ultimatum, "Do THIS thing, or face jail, even possible prison time", Brian has NO choice but to do as she has demanded.
Both men would love to have their own lives back.
See what happens when two people have to co exist despite their HUGE cultural differences.
Set inside current day made-up Season Six, with twists on Seasons One-Five in the form of references to as well as some flash backs!
Disclaimer: All Characters and situations from Queer as Folk are the properties of Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman, (Cowlip) Showtime, and others. No Copyright infringement has been intended by this author or this website. This story has been invented for entertainment purposes only and has been rated by the author, and not by any independent body. Also, any similarities of this story to any now
on air, or formerly on air reality show I mean them no harm.
A/N All mistakes are my own.
Dedications go to: Suvi!AkA FinnFan! TY for your kind words Luv.
I want EVERYONE to know, it was your special encouragement and praise inside the proof of said encouragement from your lovely NOT ONE? BUT TWO!!! emails to me, showing me SO much about the slash fandom! The fact that YOU took time out of your busy life to write to me, a nobody author, well, just knowing you and others JUST like you are out there? Has just given me an even bigger desire to WRITE!
Smooches and BIG rainbow enemas!
PG
And now, for everyone ELSE'S reading pleasure, I proudly present….
ALTERNATE REALITIES
~ Prologue~
~*~
Paris France, August 2006
Justin 'JT' Taylor sat perched on the edge of his tall Oakwood stool and looked intently at his latest 'masterpiece' of his world famous art line,
'Taylored Expressionals.
The muted blues and greys matched his sullen mood.
He was SO homesick.
Flipping around his sable tipped paintbrush, he nibbled on the end of the worn slender teakwood handle and almost fell over as the sudden jangle of his cell phone startled him.
He had forgotten to put the fucking thing on vibrate, again.
The hesitant smile that graced his handsome face at recognizing his caller soon faded with every accusation now flying out of the callers sarcastic mouth like verbal shrapnel.
After several minutes of hearing what a 'selfish bastard' he was, and a few sobbed 'how could you's, Justin sighed and stood up.
Rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone, he growled after he realised he had accidentally smeared paint down his face in the process.
'God, I am SO tired of this shit.' He mentally moaned.
Snatching up a color stained beat up dish cloth that now passed as a hand rag, after carefully removing the paint from his face as best he could without the aid of a mirror, Justin sighed sadly.
He had hoped that some time away might soften his lovers heart, but, suddenly he understood.
Nothing could fix it, and there was a reason it was called, 'breaking up.' Because now even more than before, it was obvious.
The special feelings they once had shared were gone...Broken.
Fighting down the urge to just chuck the small annoying piece of plastic out of his large open picture window, and wishing it was in actuality Phillip himself that Justin could just toss out as his lover of the last 4 years nattered hatefully on and on in his ear.
Carefully Justin sat down his wet paintbrush into his murky rinse jar before walking over and opening the large hunter green built in cabinet style posh hidden fridge.
With one hand he fished around for a cold Corona and a lime wedge.
He was sick to fucking DEATH of wine. And Cheese. And, just being here...And.
Sitting the slender dark blue phone down Justin began making funny faces and smirking darkly at the fact that Phillips' high strung voice could still be heard yelling.
Then, he winced as he heard things breaking.
The explosive tinkling sound followed by Phillip's tear-stained smug voice announcing what it was he had just destroyed made him angry and sad as his antique Tiffany lamp bit the big one.
Another threat was made, accompanied by more sounds of heavy crashing glass, as Phillip shrilly trilled, "And THAT was the GOD awful crystal fruit dish Daffy and Em got us two years ago for Christmas! I have ALWAYS HATED that fucking eye-sore!"
Justin smiled grimly as he silently applauded his soon to be x for doing something he'd always wanted to do, but had been too much of a chicken-shit to dare.
Daphne wasn't the only one that had a mean left hook!
Em knew how to street fight, and Justin KNEW the damn idea for the gift had to of come from him, so, he silently gave Phillip his mental blessings, hoping the boy would start on the matching butt-ugly dishes next.
Phillip's sniffles, high pitched chatter, and the symphony of more shattered glass was Justin's next clue that his unspoken wish had been granted.
Twisting open the tall glass bottle, some of the foamy amber liquid spilled onto the hunter green marble counter top and dripped down the side and onto his hardwood floor making a small bubbly puddle.
He smirked as he imagined Phillip's reaction to his 'clumsiness.'
The man's constant harping was one of the main reasons Justin had never wanted to cement their relationship into anything permanent. Especially no way would he of ever agreed to them having any children together, even though he had many beautiful women at his beck and call that would love to offer to do so...His best friend since forever, Daphne had offered her services, just NOT with Phillip as the other daddy. And she had even put that fact in writing.
And Phillip, god bless his little racist soul, had heartily agreed with her, making an enemy for life in her and in her assistant at his heated declaration that "no way IN HELL, and over HIS dead body would he ever want a 'mixed' child."
That subject in it's self had been the main reason for Justin spending even more time in France than he had ever planned to, to begin with.
After bailing out not only Daphne but her assistant Emmett Honeycutt from jail because Phillip had pressed charges against them when they had both tackled him to the ground and beat him silly after his perky little 'racy racist' speech, Justin had quietly packed a bag for France.
Ignoring their questions, he had called his agent, finally accepting the assignment she had been offering.
She had surprised him like she often did, by having already purchased his round-trip tickets.
Feeling a cold sense of comfort as he had stepped into the Gallery's black private double stretched Limousine, Justin was suddenly happy to be leaving the drama behind him.
And now he had been here in France for almost a full year.
In that time, Justin had completed many paintings for the Gallery back home, as well as several well known ones here in Paris.
In the states he already was such a success, and had been for a few years now.
And here in Europe, the story was pretty much the same.
In fact, his latest art work was now being hailed as, 'The one to watch.'
It had not taken long for him to become the buzz of the city, giving not only himself but the Peterson Galleries a big shove into the exclusive limelight of Paris.
Lindsay Peterson his agent and her partner Melanie Marcus, his lawyer, had flown to France to be there for his first big opening show.
Both Lindsay and Mel loved to gush about how they had 'discovered' him by convincing him to exhibit his art at the local Gay and Lesbian center's annual art show, almost 6 years ago.
Popping open the small light blue tinted plastic container he fished out a piece of lime.
Stuffing the slender slice down the throat of the frosty bottle, Justin winced as his irate lover was now shouting obscenities at him from the phone on the counter.
Wishing it was his cock he was cramming down Phillips talented throat, instead of a piece of fruit down a fuckin' beer, GOD! At this point, he'd give or do anything to just SHUT HIM THE HELL UP! Smiling grimly to himself, Justin then stabbed his thumb into the hole of the top of the amber liquid filled bottle.
Quickly turning the bottle upside down and then upright again, Justin grinned as the lime wedge was now at the bottom of the bottle.
After pulling his thumb from inside of the top of the bottle with a loud *pop*, putting the mouth of it to his lips too quickly when he took a long swig from the icy brew caused some of the liquid to dribble down his slender throat, leaving a sticky trail.
He sighed in relief as he heard one last "FUCK YOU JT!" from his pissed off x lover before the other man finally hung up.
In the time it had taken him to fix his drink, Justin had decided that enough was enough.
He and Phillip Davidson were now officially finished.
Some of the hurtful things the other man had screamed at him..., After the words were 'out there' there was NO taking them back, ever...
Looking down at his phone he counted out loud, "One, two," Just as his phone rang for the second time.
And after seeing who it was, he tried to contain his joy.
Even after remembering that he was supposed to be mad at her, when, in fact, she had just given him a priceless gift...Freedom.
Nope priceless wasn't a very good word to describe it, because Justin was certain that after Phillip was done taking him to the cleaners...
Phillip had been part of the reason he was here, in France, half way across the world, instead of comfortably painting and enjoying the company of his friends and family in his hometown of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania.
When Justin's art agent Lindsay Peterson-Marcus had first suggested it, he had turned her down flat, not wishing to be away from the States and his home, for so long.
But, even if Daphne and Emmett hadn't given Phillip his beat down, Justin had decided that he'd had enough of the man and he had been more than ready to escape from Phillips money hungry clutches, and the other man's manipulative ways.
Schooling his features and his voice, picking up his cell phone he snapped, "Daph, what in the devil did you do? What in the HELL did you say to him?! Phillip just called me! He was SO upset and babbling , crying and talking SO fast, I couldn't understand a damn word! Did you do this on purpose?" He demanded, biting his bottom lip hard to keep from laughing at her indignant squawk.
Deciding to let her off of the hook, although he should stay mad at her for once again attempting to run his love life, Justin held his tongue, because he knew she had done so only out of love for him.
In a much nicer tone he informed her, "Because if you did, let me tell you, it worked! OH! And I've decided after all of the shit he's put me through this last year, and all of the mean stuff he was blabbing, I've had enough! Before I return to the States, I want him gone Daph! And I want you and Em to handle it, TODAY, this minute! If you have to, find some muscle to scare him, okay?"
Then, he smirked as his mind landed on the key element to make sure his word would be followed, to the 'T' pronto.
Making his voice hitch with a tiny sob, he blurted, "Oh Daph! It, he, oh god! he's destroying my home as we speak! He even broke, no, um, make that smashed the beautiful crystal fruit dish! You, you know, the one you and Em gave to us! AND?!" He added for good measure, "We won't EVEN go there about the matching dishes." he sniffed.
Taking her silence as a good thing he continued firmly, his voice rising with each sentence, "So you and Em let him know he can keep the shit he came into my home with, but all of the shit I've EVER given him, especially that fuckin' car, fuck it, have a raffle! Or, or, just give it away to fuckin' Goodwill for all I care!"
At her mumbled next words he replied, "Yep, ALL of the trinkets, the clothes AND the fancy crap furniture too! I've always hated that eyesore mismatched shit anyway!" Yelled the irate blond man as he held his small cell phone with one hand and gestured about wildly with the other.
Several thousand miles away in America, Pittsburgh Pennsylvania to be exact, a lovely young brunette woman punched the air and high fived her tall assistant as they giggled playfully.
Both of them rolled their eyes as they danced a small jig.
The actual idea and the fugly crystal gifts had been from Daphne's mother, due to the fact that Justin and Phillip loved antiques.
Not knowing how to tell the bossy woman 'no' and both Dap and Em low on cash, her mother knew this, so it had been easy for the older woman to rope them into presenting the expensive crystal eyesores, as Mrs. Chanders was unable to attend the party, due to her own busy social schedule.
Emmett Honeycutt laughingly high fived her again after he hugged her, then he announced he was going out to celebrate and for her to not wait up.
After he flounced out of the door, she snarked the news to Justin into her razor thin pink cell phone while looking into her full length bevelled gold and crystal mirror.
Winking saucily at her reflection and patting an imaginary dark brown hair back into place on her immaculate style, as she explained again what she had done, and just why Phillip had flipped out so badly she insisted,
"Now Justin Taylor! It IS for charity!" Playfully sticking her tongue out at her reflection, Daphne Chanders-Coi rolled her bright brown eyes then smirked evilly before saying,
“Trust me! You're gonna love it! When have I ever steered you wrong?" The snort she received as his answer, made her grin.
Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, two months later
Grabbing a generic beer from inside his used beat up fridge, Brian Kinney sat down on the edge of his Goodwill-esqe style couch, and propped his long legs onto and across the oblong lump of mismatched butt-ugly fancy designer furniture that the sales girl at his local Goodwill had informed him was actually an ottoman.
In fact, she had gushed and cooed over the fact that a local, un named celebrity had donated NOT only a living room full of original and colorful Shu-Wu furniture, but a very good conditioned 2003 red Ferrari as well.
The former owner had insisted on all of it being raffled away and the winner of the raffle take it all, with the proceeds going to help the local AIDS Center, also known as the Vic Grassi Home.
In the second roll of tickets was the winning one, and within minutes, Brian Kinney was the proud owner of some of the ugliest furniture known to mankind. He had hit the jackpot on the other items as well.
Brian had bought $300.00 dollars in tickets from some of the money roll he had found stuffed deep in the toe of an old pair of woollen socks.
He hadn't told anyone about the almost $10,000 in small bills that he had found one day after playing a very intense game of hide and go seek with his almost 6 year old son, Gus.
It had been cash he had saved back and had forgotten about.
Just silly 'rainy day' money that had once been so easy to have when he had been a big shot ad executive for one of the most prestigious agencies in the State.
Feeling like the character Charlie from the movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory clutching the winning gold ticket, Brian Kinney, former glory boy of the now defunct Ryder Advertising, was now the proud owner of some butt-ugly Chinese furniture, other designer nick knacks, some tailored Armani suits, ties and silk shirts and other fancy crap, AND a kick-assed car, in mint condition!
His index finger froze in mid pull of the icy can tab as the jarring of his landline phone rang.
Resuming the popping open of the top of his can of cheap beer, he smiled as he recognized his caller.
But, his sexy smile soon turned into a frown as the man on the other end of the phone blasted him over and over.
Setting down his beer onto the designer coffee table, Brian said into the mouth piece of the designer phone, "Mikey! Come on man, I'm good for it! I told you I'd get the money to you!" Pleaded the brunet man as he nervously twirled the phone cord in his long slim fingers.
"What in the HELL do you mean by that?! And NO, I said no deal on you taking my furniture and car as collateral!" Brian Kinney sputtered at the angry hissed retort on the other end of the phone line.
"OH YEAH!?" He shouted, shock and surprise and hurt gracing his handsome features as he listened to Michael Novotny, his best friend since age 14 blast him about responsibilities and honesty.
"Well, well, you know what Mikey dear? FUCK YOU! Brian sneered as he spat,
"Michael, I said I'd get you your fuckin' money, and BY GOD, somehow I will!"
"What?" he yelped, holding the phone away from him and staring at it like it was a snake about to bite him.
"You little shit! Did you just threaten ME?" he breathed.
Brian winced as the phone on the other end was slammed down hard.
And, when it rang again he jumped.
Picking it up he growled, "Hello?"
"Well, hello to you too Kinney." Drawled the dry amused voice of his x wife's lawyer now turned her lover, Melanie Marcus, also known as 'The Ball-breaker.'
Pinching his thumb and forefinger hard on the bridge of his slender nose, Brian bit back the retort he really wanted to exchange with the smug bitch that had stole away his wife almost five years ago, and instead sweetly said, "Ah, Counsellor Marcus, to what do I owe this MOST certain displeasure?" He blithely cooed.
It was Brian's turn to smirk as he heard her many failed attempts to compose herself.
~*~
Downtown Pittsburgh, in a high rise office sat a small brunette woman fuming as she picked up dart after dart and lobbied them at a poster sized picture of the arrogant asshole she was now speaking to.
"Look you closet case, stow it Kinney, and just fuckin' listen to what I'm about to say!" The small woman barked as she silently seethed.
~*~
After he finally hung up with her, Brian quickly downed his now luke-warm beer.
Although the taste was nasty, he really couldn't afford to waste it.
He was thankful that he'd had the foresight 4 years ago to buy his loft outright after several really good campaigns had come to fruition for him.
It had been one year later that a young man, a famous Corporate shark named Kip had toppled the once powerful Ryder Ad agency, sending it to it's knees by blackballing all of it's employees, and forcing closed the doors forever, when Marty refused to merge with
Kip's boss, Gardner Vance.
The IRS had sifted through Marty Ryder and his many employees with a fine toothed comb.
Unfortunately, Brian and several others had been un aware of the thousands in back taxes they owed Uncle Sam.
Brian had been one of the lucky ones, and had avoided jail time. But, the incident had cost him the one precious thing he had left, that he valued most in his young life. And that was joint custody of his only son, Gus.
He would now only be allowed to see the boy at his x wife and her new wife's convenience.
He had been ordered to pay $3,000 a month child support, as well as $2,500 every month in alimony payments to compensate his x for the lifestyle that she had once been privileged to, and of course very accustomed to as well.
Brian had stood helplessly by as Lindsay's lawyer had painted him a criminal, and a danger to his own son, as well as a dead beat dad, claiming that Brian Kinney hadn't even so much as picked up a phone since the break-up and had not even asked about, nor had given a thought to the child's financial welfare.
The female Judge had bought Melanie's lies, Lindsay's lies AND thanks to that bitch of a lawyer, in less than 24 hours, he had lost all that he'd worked so damn hard to gain.
Still, without a good paying job due to being blackballed, now he was several months behind in his support.
Mikey had earlier lent him some money for personal reasons and to pay Lindsay and bribe Melanie so that she would not turn him in for the back child and alimony support payments.
He really didn't want to go to jail. So he had swallowed his pride and had begged his friend for help.
He had hired a private dick with some of the money and it had hit pay dirt, big time.
With evidence that BOTH women made more money than him from their combined income of Mel's practice and Lind’s Art Gallery, Brian took them both back to court and had his payments reduced.
He had taken a carpenter gig for a while, and was now on layoff.
Payment was due, and he just didn't have it.
The cunts had refused him visitation of his son until he was 100% caught up in his support payments.
Now Gus's bedroom had stood empty for over a year.
Except for the last time, when he'd been allowed to spend time with his son even overnight.
It had been when the two women had needed him to watch the child for several days while they attended a gala in Paris, France featuring Lindsay's gallery exhibit of her most prized and gifted artist, JT.
~*~
Telling himself over and over, "I'm NOT gay. This is for Gus, this is for a better life for myself. With this money, I can make my dreams come true." His fingers shook when he jabbed in the telephone number Melanie had demanded he call.
His stomach rolled as the ultra cheerful male-female sounding voice swished, "You've reached QBN, how may I direct your call?"
"Programming please." He had croaked.
"Do you know which one sir? We have several." The voice had simpered.
"Ah, yeah, the one for the new cable show, Alternate Reality."
"Ohh, Sugar! I can help you with that sir! I'm taking the Program Directors appointments for Hannah, formerly known as Hank, all this week. She's FINALLY getting her surgery! Isn't that the BEST news sir?" The voice had gushed.
Brian felt dizzy as he tried to wrap his head around the Queen's news about his/her friend.
"Um, yeah,. okay then."
"Now, where is that form, OH! here it is! If it was a snake it would of bitten me! Okie -Dokey, Name?"
"Brian Kinney."
It had taken almost a half hour, but finally, Brian was now registered for his interview.
~*~
Justin stood and stretched and then offered his hand to the tall willowy blonde.
"Cynthia, it's been a pleasure. I have to be honest, when Daphne first called me in Paris and dropped the bomb on me about the show, I was a bit sceptical at first. But, I did some research, and The Vic Grassi House is a wonderful charity, and one I am already a frequent supporter of." Justin shot her a big sunny smile as he revealed,
"I had the good fortune to of known the man. He was a great human being, and a fabulous fag!" he snickered. Then, his handsome face took on a serious note as he sadly recalled,
"I had been pretty young back then, only 17 really, but Vic and his wonderful sister Debbie Novotny had taken me into their home, and into their hearts after my dad had kicked me out of the only home I'd ever known, just for being who I am, a proud gay man."
Justin wiped a tear from his cheek, shrugged, then smiled as he said,
"In fact, my series 'Street Rhapsody' is based on the three days and nights I'd been forced to live homeless on the streets, until I stumbled across The Liberty Diner, and Vic and Deb."
Looking her deep in the eyes he added,
"I owe them both so much, even my very life. I shudder to think about my fate if they hadn't helped me. So, I look forward to helping someone in return. Thank you for choosing me as one of the *rich contestants*. I still cannot believe my good fortune!" He grinned.
Thoughtfully he said, "Sometimes? I actually find myself pinching myself to assure that it's ALL real, and it is not a dream! I mean, wow, who would have thought, me, little ole' 'JT' Justin Taylor, an International success story!"
~*~
Cynthia smiled as she ushered the still babbling young artist out of the door. Closing it firmly she sighed, leaning her head against the door. The child was utterly exhausting!
Frowning at the urgent knocking at her door that was vibrating through her skull, lifting her head she opened up the door.
Peering around the edge of it she said, "Yes, come in!" as she was now walking back over to her seat behind her desk.
Plopping down into it, she watched as her new boy genius hire, Emmett Honeycutt peeked his light chestnut head in, then his whole slim body as he happily strutted over to her desk and laid out a registration form in front of her.
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes and tackle him to the floor until he promised to wear some clothes in THIS century, Cynthia smiled a big plastic smile, that soon turned genuine as her mind raced with the possibilities of the 'perfect match for 'JT'.
After Emmett left, she called Mr. Kinney herself, to personally confirm his application.
He claimed that, yes, he was gay and yes, he was in debt, well over $30, 000, and yes, he did owe people some money. Her next request had him hesitate for just a moment, but soon her fax was beeping.
After she again confirmed his appointment time for his in house evaluation, and the time for his physical, if chosen to be a contestant, Cynthia grinned a self satisfied smile as she picked up his fax.
He was perfect for her project, and it was hard not to stare at his sexy picture too.
After snapping her ice blue razor phone shut with flourish...She grinned.
With those two, QBN would soon be on top!
When the cable crowd, hell the public got an eyeful of the two beautiful men, QBN's rating would go through the roof!
Feeling about 12 years old, she pushed her black leather chair to the center of her office, and sat in it and spun it around and around.
The next day, after meeting Brian Kinney in the flesh and woo! What flesh! The man was simply to die for! Cynthia had tried very hard NOT to just stare. As the mantra went round and around in her head, 'he's gay, and he's not interested!'
Justin Taylor was toast...
The tall brunet was 6'4 inches of pure sexual energy! He would appeal to men as well as women, no mater their sexual preference.
Like Justin Taylor, Brian Kinney was a beautiful man. And they both just oozed 'come fuck me' vibes.
Yeah, putting Justin with Brian Kinney was a good move.
And, hiring Emmett Honeycutt was on of the smartest moves she had ever made since she had taken over the cable network coo position almost a year ago.
Even though he was currently the personal assistant of world renown Interior decorator and talent coordinator Madam Coi, the beautiful Queen was humming with talent, and ideas.
Lady luck had really blessed that boy. And Emmett's latest idea was the one she had most recently taken on.
With, of course Madam Daphne Chanders-Coi, acting on his behalf, even volunteering her 'Best Friend' and an openly gay man and successful Artist, Justin 'JT' Taylor as one of the first contestants.
After a meeting with Madam Coi, Emmett, herself, and the higher ups at the station, the green light had been finally granted!
Emmett Honeycutt's brainchild would be the most unique and groundbreaking reality show, since the word 'reality show had first been penned!
While it was true that gay, transgendered and bisexual men had been shown in reality shows before, they had never been shown quite like this!
His presentation had moved everyone, and not a dry eye could be seen as he had passionately stated the show's unusual outline, and it's concepts and motives too as he stood up tall in a sharp dove-grey suit, pink shirt and pink silk tie with rainbow cuff links and said,
"Imagine a world where there are two sets of rules, but only one is followed."
Turning toward the large screen, he gently picked up the long thin black pointer and said softly, "Welcome to MY world. Dim the lights please?" And soon, the whole room was awash in horror as graphic past and present scenes from situations were unfolded.
Things the media and the government didn't want shown.
Interviews with those that had survived the unimaginable, and were now telling the tale.
Gasps of outrage, fear and deep sadness filled the air as shocking photos and film footage of the Holocaust, Stonewall, Matthew Sheppard, and many more were shown.
Actual film footage showing how the seeds of ignorance and hate had been sown many years ago, and how today, their destructive vines are alive and well full of the rotten fruit such as the hateful and hurtful verbal blasts from the past and present through Anita Bryant, Jerry Fallwell, James Dobson and many more as they advance and shove their religious right rights down America's throat as they cower behind the very skirts of the god they profess to believe in, and a god they proclaim has given them the right to do so and in HIS name.
Playing at politics because they follow no rules, they don't even have to pay taxes! As they manipulate the government and it's people by demanding immediate amendments to the very Constitution they hide behind, claiming their Freedom of Speech rights, while not caring that they trample on others SAME rights.
Actual church interviews from heated preachers and outraged congregations that state, "A good homosexual, is a dead homosexual. Love the sinner, not the sin. They can be changed, they just choose not to."
And then there was behind the scenes newsworthy stories too. Stories from the past, leading up to the present time.
Sniffles and tissue pulls were heard as Emmett softly said, "Lights please."
Turning to a large display board, he then stated cold hard facts. Facts that no business man no matter his sexual orientation could deny.
Then, he set down his pointer, walked around to the side of the table and said in a very clear voice.
"The concept of this show is NOT just about sexual choices. And, from the very first episode, I want it to be told, that this is NOT about different flavors of homosexuals, vs straights. It's really not even ALL about the rich vs the poor. I want to show the world that it doesn't matter WHAT we are, rather WHO we are. And, who we are is simply this. We are PEOPLE dammit, HUMANS and we ALL deserve EQUAL HUMAN rights under our Constitutional Laws.
“While the basic concept had started out as a show about living life as a gay man in a straight world, as I thought about it, it slowly evolved into something more. This is an election year. The chance to change things for the better for all HUMANKIND is fast approaching too. Ignorance and prejudice is NOT just a couple of worlds in the Dictionary. And for myself, and others like me, it's OUR REALITY."
Holding up his hands with his fingers curved in an air quote he sharply said,
"They say they won't tolerate people like me." Now standing he puts his hands on his hips as he declares with contagious passion, "Well, I can no longer abide by their ignorance. Knowledge is the key, and that's what Alternate Realities is. The key to understanding, the hope for a peaceful future between diversity and compassion for those not like ourselves."
Leaning over the table now, he places his hands flat down as he coyly asks, "Do you honestly think that there is NO stereotypes in my world?" He challenged, bright blue eyes flashing.
Now standing once more he went in for the big finish as he said firmly,
"We have time before the elections that one way or another are going to change the face of this country, and leave scars for the future generations to heal. But, if we get the truth out there to the masses, the knowledge to the people, showing them that they can make an informed decision, and not just parrot something they have been told, just because it was right."
Putting his hands together he intoned, "I have shown you the profit margins, and I have shown you choices too. But, now, on behalf of those no longer with us because they have been silenced forever due to their differences, I beg of you, please, give Alternate Realities a chance to show both sides the truth. That we all put our shoes on one at a time, be they flats or heels. And, in remembrance of those that fought for the very rights that are in jeopardy, I propose that we show the film footage that you just saw, each and every episode, so that no matter the drama of the contest, the REASON for the contest will always be known and focused on.
Because IF we don't challenge the laws to change things now, our future will be our past, and our lives, gay, straight, transgendered, bisexual or lesbian, will be destroyed. Because if we let them get away with this now, how can we be sure that this is the end of it?"
Walking over to his briefcase, he pulled out several files.
Setting them down in the middle of the table he firmly announced,
"These are my contract papers, the shows projected day to day, week to week and month to month one year outline. With room for, based of course on viewer popularity, an extension as well as the show's Mission Statement along with a gag order that needs the signatures of anyone present that has witnessed my presentation. I feel so strongly about this, and I know it will sell too. So, I'm going to be right outside at my desk and you let me know what your answer is because despite the current Political times, there ARE other gay networks I could show this to. I want to thank you for your time. Good day."
Then, he gave a little wave and a sly wink at Cynthia who returned it as she watched the bent hushed heads of several very powerful men. All different, but with one main goal in common. Money.
Emmet Honeycutt's leather clad toe didn't even hit the threshold as the head of QBN's gruff voice rang out, "Young Man, a word please."
Turning back to the table, the look of stunned surprise on his young face soon became one of sheer pleasure as not only was he offered a raise, and a permanent place and say in the up coming show but? Emmett Honeycutt got a promotion too.
After important papers had been signed, and hands shook, Alternate Realities the idea, became Alternate Realities, the show.
~*~
She could see it now, nominations for best Television show, ratings through the ceiling, and QBN finally getting the recognition it so richly deserved.
Now, if those two, Justin and Brian only can get along...Or, not She snickered evilly.
Because, drama is BIG business...