“Dylan really just up and left with no warning?” one of the men said to the other.

“Yeah, she said that if Justin was leaving, so was she,” the other answered angrily.

Michael’s ears perked at hearing the name, and he wondered if by some coincidence they were talking about Brian’s ex-roommate Justin.

“So, that asshole Brian fucks Dylan’s brother over, and Dylan takes your fucking kids all the way to Manhattan?” the first guy said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s harsh, man.”

Michael slowly walked over to the two men, causing both of them to look his way.

“Holy shit, you’re Michael Novotny!” the angry guy’s friend said.

“Yes, I am. I’m actually a co-owner of the bar along with Claire herself.”

He shook hands with both of them. The angry guy introduced himself as Andi (with an “I”, he pointed out) and his friend was named Blake.

Michael turned to Andi and asked, “So, I heard you guys talking about someone named Justin who just moved to Manhattan?”

“Yeah, his bitch ex-girlfriend took off with his kids to follow her little brother across the country,” Blake confirmed.

“Justin Taylor, right?” Michael asked.

The two men were astounded that Michael would know who Justin was until the three put together that Michael was friends with Brian, who of course used to be Justin’s roommate. After a brief chat over the situation, Michael walked away with Justin and Dylan’s new Manhattan address on the back of Andi’s bar tab receipt, which Michael happily covered.

Michael later paced back and forth in the manager’s office, raking his fingers through his hair as he thought about what to do. He decided to close up the bar early and go home. He then packed his suitcase and called his chauffeur to take him to the airport, where his private jet would then take him to his hometown of New York City overnight.

After Michael got off the plane at Laguardia Airport around 4:30 AM local time, he went outside to grab a taxi. While he waited, a couple of fans came over and asked him to take some pictures and sign some autographs, which he happily did.

He gave the taxi driver Justin’s address in the West Village and closed his eyes as the driver pulled away from the curb. Michael was tired and hungry. It had been a long day and night for him, and he was feeling the pressure of dealing with Brian’s shit. He had not been able to sleep on the plane ride.

Once the taxi had arrived at Justin’s brownstone, Michael paid the driver and got out. He then looked at his watch and saw that it was six AM on the dot.

"What the hell am I doing here so fucking early in the morning?” Michael quietly asked himself. “I don’t even know the kid.”

He checked his watch again, looked up at the four story building, and shook his head before walking up the stairs to the small porch. He noticed a bank of four buzzers and pressed the one for the second unit.

Instead of the intercom being used, the door opened several seconds later. A sleepy-looking young woman with blond hair was standing there looking out at him.

"Hi, I'm Michael Novotny. I was wondering if Justin Taylor is here," Michael said sweetly.

"You're that actor, aren’t you?" the woman asked. “The one from those cool cop movies with Brian?”

"Yes, that’s me, " Michael affirmed, pleased with himself.

"Come on in,” she said. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Dylan, Beibs’s sister."

"Beibs?" Michael asked curiously as he followed her down a short hallway.

"That's what everyone calls him, although he fucking hates it. He loves being called ‘Timber’ as in Timberlake. Justin’s obsessed with him, but not as much as You Know Who.”

Dylan and Justin’s apartment was small and messy. There were toys scattered all over the floor as well as unopened boxes.

"Sorry about the mess. We haven't lived here for long."

"It's alright,” Michael said. “I’m not exactly a neat freak myself.”

"Justin's in there," Dylan said, pointing to a closed door.

Michael walked over to the door and knock on it.

"Come in, Dylan," a young man’s voice called out sadly.

Michael walked in and saw the young man he assumed was Justin sitting on a bed Indian-style. A little boy sat in his lap looking at a picture book. Justin looked stunned to see him standing there.

"Well, you're not Dylan," Justin said with a slight smile as he moved the boy off of his lap and stood up.

"Um… no, I'm not. I'm Michael Novotny, it’s nice to meet you.”

"I know, I'm a big fan. I'm Justin Taylor," he said as he walked over to Michael. "And over there is my nephew Jordan.”

Michael and Justin shook hands.

"He's a cute kid,” Michael said. “How old?"

"Thank you, he’s three."

Michael couldn't believe what an attractive man Justin was. He had blond hair, blue eyes, full lips, porcelain skin, and a what appeared to be a nice body that was hiding under baggy pajamas. Brian made it sound as if Justin wasn't much to look at and very young, but he looked around the same age as Michael, twenty-four. It made him wonder what Brian must have thought of him, seeing how off the mark he had been about Justin.

Justin didn't look like a crazy stalker or seem overly-impressed with who Michael was. He appreciated that, since many people seemed to look at him as just a celebrity and not a real person.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm curious: why are you here?" Justin asked.

Michael was caught off guard with that question. He quickly debated with himself if he should lie and tell him that Brian sent him to check on him or tell him the truth and say that he was curious about the man that was hurt by someone Michael thought was a friend to both of them.  

Michael came up with something else.     

"I was in the neighborhood visiting family and knew you lived nearby. I'm just sorry I came so early in the morning and without an invitation.”

Justin slowly nodded, not really buying the story. "It's okay, I was already awake. I don't sleep much these days."  

Michael nodded his head understanding.

Justin made them some breakfast a little while later.

"That was a wonderful meal, thank you," Michael said after he was finished.

"You probably have chefs around the clock" Justin said as he cleared the table.

"No, not really. It's nice to have a home cooked meal once in awhile instead of take out."

"I'm glad that you enjoyed it."

Michael noticed a picture of Justin and a young blonde girl on the wall.

"Is that Kelly?" he asked.

"You know about her?"

"Brian told me that you have a goddaughter and son, so I just assumed that it was her."

"Yeah that's Kelly: my niece, my best friend, my little angel. She's still asleep, I think. She's starting her first day of preschool today."

"That's cute," Michael said as he happily listened to Justin talk about his family.

"She's so smart. When I'm feeling sad, I can talk to her and she makes me smile in seconds with just a look or a word. It works every time."

"That's great," Michael said, happy that he had someone like that in his life.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" Michael asked, not knowing what else to say.

"My mom taught me. My dream is to open my own art gallery someday, which will have a cafe inside where we’ll serve food. I had just started art school in LA before I moved out here after finally getting the loans I needed to afford it, and the school has a campus here in New York that I was able to transfer to."

"That's great. I would like to open up my own New York-style deli, but I can't cook so there goes my dream."

"Yeah, that’s right. I read somewhere that you wanted to open a deli. Lots of celebrities have their own restaurant, even if they don’t know how to cook. They just hire a chef that can.”

"That's true,” Michael said. “I’ve never thought about that before."

Michael was staring at the smart and talented man before him, trying to see what in the hell could be wrong with him for Brian to have treated him so badly.

"Can I show you something?" Justin asked shyly.

Michael smiled. "Sure.”

Justin left and came back into the kitchen with a photo album in his hands.

"I like to carve out different things with clay," Justin said, flipping to a page in the book and showing it to Michael.

Michael looked at the photo with widened eyes, for the picture was of a clay figure depicting Michael as Robin in the latest Batman movie.

"Justin, this is amazing."

"Thanks," Justin said, blushing. “I’ve never showed anyone that before.”

"Did you learn how to do this in school?"

"Yeah, a few weeks ago.”

Fuck you, Brian Kinney, Michael bitterly thought to himself.

Justin talked about his favorite cooking shows on the Food Network, which put a smile on Michael’s face since they too were his favorites. It took Justin by surprise that Michael liked to watch cooking shows despite the fact that he couldn't cook.

The way that he got along with Justin was something Michael had never experienced before. He thought maybe it was because he felt sorry for him after what Brian did, but the truth was that he could actually see himself becoming real friends with Justin. There was something special about the young blond, but Michael didn't know what it was and found it odd that he already felt a strong connection to him so soon after meeting him.

Justin began to yawn as Michael continued to flip through his book of clay figures.

"I haven't felt this tired in days," said Justin sleepily.

Michael stood up and walked with Justin to his bedroom.

"I'll let you get some sleep," Michael said, feeling guilty again that he had come to visit uninvited.

"Thanks."

Jordan had fallen asleep on his Uncle Justin’s bed, and Michael offered to take the child to his mother. Justin got under the covers and Michael left the room with Jordan in his arms, turning off Justin’s light and shutting the door behind him.

He walked over to Dylan, who was sitting on the couch in the living room watching a comedy show on the fifty-inch flat screen television. She stood up and took Jordan from Michael, and then walked into her bedroom to put Jordan down for his nap.

“You’ve had a long night,” Dylan said after coming back to the living room. “You must be tired. Let me fix up the couch for you, if you’d like to get some shut-eye”.

Michael shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I’m not all that tired.”

No sooner were the words out of Michael’s mouth did he lean his head back and drift off to sleep.