There was one of the other hustlers that he really liked. His name was Hunter and he was a few years younger than him. He’d been shocked to find out – he looked and acted like he was in his twenties. He just supposed that meant he’d already been out on the streets for so long that he’d lost all sense of his innocence. He wondered how long it would take before that happened to him too.

Hunter showed him around town during off-hours. He had been the one to get him a fake-ID and he had told him which bars were the best to pick up Johns. He also taught him a few tricks of the trade; some things that made the clients keep coming back for more.

He appreciated it. The whole situation was still new and strange to him, but having what he might call a friend helped ease the pain. It made it easier to miss his family. He knew he couldn’t go back, but they were still his family and he still loved them. He hoped in time his parents might come to understand him and welcome him back. But he wasn’t going to hold his breath waiting. He knew it would only make him suffocate.

He already had one client that came to see him every day. He thought the man was a closet case too because he wore a wedding ring and talked about his wife and kids. But he didn’t care. He paid well and kept coming back for more.

So, no. His life wasn’t great. But this wasn’t forever. He knew in only a matter of time he’d get the life he wanted.

The bar was mostly empty, but Brian wasn’t surprised – it was the middle of the day after all.  He was reclined against a booth in one of the back corners, nervously looking at the door every few seconds.  When his friend finally arrived, he sat up straighter and then stood to welcome him.  “Alex.”  He greeted with a wan smile.  He held out his hand and Alex shook it with a smile of his own.

“Brian.  I have to admit I was surprised to hear from you.”  He said to him as they slid into opposite sides of the booth.

“I’m not really one for keeping correspondents.”  Brian muttered, not wanting to waste time on pleasantries.  He leaned forward and donned a serious expression.  “I need your advice – your help.”  He added and Alex looked at him with interest.

“Well, Brian, I know you have a series of disorders and addictions but I never would have imagined-.”

“Not for me.  For Justin.”  Brian cut him off with annoyance.

“Justin?  Justin Taylor?  The kid who was bashed at his prom?”  Alex asked somberly and Brian nodded.

“One and the same.”  Brian confirmed as he folded his arms and placed them on the table.  “He’s living with me and-.”

“He’s living with you?!”  Alex asked in amazement and Brian huffed.

“Can I finish?”  Brian asked and Alex motioned for him to continue.  “But after the attack he…The doctors said he has all these mental conditions.  They said it would be normal and that in time he’ll get better.  But he’s not…he’s not getting better.  He’s getting worse.”  Brian said, haltingly at first, but then with more confidence.  He was apprehensive of speaking about such personal things, but if he wanted to help Justin – and he did – he would have to do it.

“Mental conditions?  Like what?”  Alex asked and Brian could see his mood shift from curious, to concerned.

“They said depression, anxiety, paranoia, and PTSD were all things I should expect.  And he’s definitely living up to their predictions.”  Brian said sadly.

“What is he like?  Give me a summary of a typical day for Justin.”  Alex requested, and so Brian did.  He described the nightmares.  He told him about the incident that day and how afraid Justin was of anyone else stepping foot in the loft.  He talked about his obsession with the window and his refusal to do his physical therapy.  Alex listened attentively the whole time and even pulled over a napkin to begin jotting down some notes.

It felt professional, and real.  It was a relief to Brian.  That was what he wanted – it was what he needed.  Someone who knew what they were doing to help him help Justin.  When he finished Alex was quiet as he looked down at the scribbled words on the napkin.  Brian let him think, and waited patiently.  It was a good minute before Alex finally spoke.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?”  He asked and Brian raised an eyebrow.  “For something so tragic to happen to someone so young?”  He asked and Brian simply frowned and turned away.  He didn’t know how to answer that.  “I remember reading about him in the paper, and seeing him on the news.  No one ever said your name though.  I didn’t know you knew him.  Tell me about that night.”

“Justin doesn’t remember it.”  Brian said simply, now very uncomfortable.

“But you do.  Tell me what happened.”  Alex asked and then flipped the paper over.

“Why?  Talking about what happened that night isn’t going to change anything.”  He insisted, not wanting to have to remember anything from the bashing.  There was too much blood…

“There are two people living in that loft, Brian.  Justin’s condition is only half of the whole picture.  I can’t help unless I know where you are, and how you’re doing with all of this.”  Brian looked at him for a long time, now extremely grateful the bar was practically empty.

“What do you want me to tell you?”  He asked sarcastically.  “We danced.  We left.  He got bashed.  End of story.”

“But it isn’t.  Not for you.  You’re still living with the repercussions of that night.  And if you haven’t properly handled your emotions over what happened you’ll be of little help to Justin.  Let me guess; you’ve been using Justin’s condition to distract yourself.  You can pretend that you’re okay because he’s worse off.”  Alex spoke firmly, clearly trying to make Brian listen to him.  When Brian didn’t answer, he continued.  “How do you expect him to confront his fears if you won’t confront yours?”

Brian slowly looked away from him and down to the glossy finish on the table.  He had to admit Alex had a point.  But he wasn’t about to have some kind of counseling session, so he shook his head.  “I’m here for Justin.”  He stated firmly and Alex sighed and gave a conceding nod.

“Fine, but it’s something to think about.”  The doctor reminded before turning the napkin around and pointing to one of the things he’d written down.  “You said he looks out the window most of the day?”

Brian nodded.  “Yeah.  If he’s not having some sort of meltdown he’s at the window looking outside.  I always figured he was watching for danger or something.”

“I doubt it.  I suspect it’s how he fills his need for interaction.”  Alex informed and pulled the napkin back.   “Sure, he can’t speak to anyone out there, but then again he doesn’t want to.  He’s able to learn about people’s lives from a safe distance; from a place where he doesn’t have to put himself at risk of being attacked again.”  Alex spoke smoothly and confidently.  “You are right when you say he’s getting worse.  If he isn’t striving to move forward to conquer his conditions, he’s only going to move backwards.  However, forcing him into a situation he is not ready for is only going to accomplish making him fearful of his home as well.”

“I apologized to him.”  Brian said swiftly, not wanting to be reminded that he’d made a huge error in judgement.

“That’s fine.  But the damage has been done.  You’ll have to regain his trust.”  Alex said and Brian nodded a few times.

“Fine.  How do I do that?”  He asked and Alex smiled broadly.

“Encourage him while he’s looking outside.  Engage him in what he sees.  People watch, comment, judge.  Who cares.  Make him feel like its normal.  Make him feel like you’re interested.  The time to push him to confront his fears will come, but it will be a long process.  Those doctors who told you that laundry list of conditions he has?  They don’t know shit.  All of those conditions are caused by one problem – his fear.  They can call it whatever they want to be dramatic, but all of the things he’s doing – his meltdowns, his obsession with the window, his refusal to do his PT - it’s all his fear manifesting itself.”  Alex was speaking with passion which gave Brian a bit of hope.  To find out he has one problem instead of five made him feel like all of this was manageable.

“I can do that.”  Brain spoke assuredly. 

“Good.  And Brian…I’d like to speak to Justin myself, even if it’s only on the phone.  As much help as I’m sure you’ll be, I’m a professional.  Besides, it’s been proven to help people in Justin’s situation to have a third, un-involved party, to talk to.  It’s someone who has no expectations, someone he won’t have to worry about upsetting.”  Alex gave the suggestion with a face that read he knew it wasn’t going to happen – at least not now.  Still, Brian nodded and tucked the offer away for now.

“I should get back.  I want to be there when he wakes up so he doesn’t freak out and think I’ve abandoned him or something.”  Brian tried to joke, and even tried to force a laugh, but it fell flat.  After Justin's comment earlier about hating him, he knew that it was a very real possibility Justin was afraid of being abandoned.  He and Alex shook hands again, and Brian walked away.

While he was driving back home, he tried to think of a way to engaged Justin in his window-escapades. He stopped by the store before returning to the loft and picked a few things up. When he got back, Justin was still asleep so he set his gifts aside and waited for the boy to wake up. He kept himself entertained by working on some emails.

It was nearly three when he heard Justin rustling around in the bed, signaling that he was about to wake up. Brian lifted his gaze and looked over, hoping Justin would be in a good mood. He’d fucked up that morning, he just hoped he didn’t do anything permanent.

Though he was often out of place whenever he woke up, he always knew when he’d just had what Brian liked to call a melt-down. His body was sore, his throat hurt, his eyes felt crusty, and he struggled to remember what had happened before he went to sleep. This time was different. He recalled everything with clarity the moment he woke up and remembered exactly what had happened and where he was.

Justin turned over on the bed towards Brian’s side where he expected to find the man. He was shocked to find it empty. One thing he had come to rely on after such events was Brian’s secure presence right next to him when he woke up. ‘He really is sick of me.’ He thought in dismay.

Feeling abandoned, he didn’t get up right away. He continued to lie in the bed and think about what would happen to him. But then he heard movement in the living room and shot up. At first, he didn’t think it could be Brian, so he panicked and assumed someone had broken in. However, he heard the intruder sigh with a very distinct tone that he recognized and he relaxed.

Brian hadn’t abandoned him after all. He tentatively got up from the bed and walked towards the living room to see Brian in the flesh. The man was pushing the chaise away from the window and Justin watched with indignation. Before he could voice his protestation, however, Brian moved to the couch and began pushing it towards the window instead.

Brian must have heard him, because after he was finished he turned around and looked at him, as if silently asking for his opinion. Justin was speechless, still trying to figure out why yet another part of his precious schedule was being disrupted.

“You fall asleep here all the time. I thought the couch would be more comfortable. And it’s higher, so it’s easier to see out.” Brian suddenly explained, motioning to the white couch. “And…There’s room for two.” Brian finished and Justin turned his gaze swiftly from the couch, to him.

“You want to sit there with me?” Justin asked slowly, unable to process what Brian was hinting at. Brian had rarely looked out the window with him. He’d asked about it, he’d gone over there to wake him up when he’d fallen asleep, or he’d force him to do his hand exercises, but rarely to look out.

“Sure.” Brian said and then suddenly walked over to the island in the kitchen to pull up a bag Justin hadn’t noticed. It was from an electronics store but Justin could only imagine what was inside. “Here. I got something for you.” He said as he pulled out a box and handed it to Justin.

Justin took it with his good hand and looked down at the box to see top-of-the-line binoculars. “What…?” He couldn’t even ask because it seemed to be the most random thing.

“It’s the most expensive one they had. Of course they only had two. Most people don’t have a need for binoculars I guess. Here, let me get it out for you.” Brian was speaking quickly and in a tone of voice that made Justin feel as if this was significant, only he couldn’t figure out how. He let Brian take the box back and watched him pop it open and take the binoculars out. He was handed the merchandise and examined it silently. “Do you like it?” Brian asked and Justin looked into his eyes.

“It’s so I can look through the window?” He asked and Brian nodded.

“Yeah. It’s hard to see across the street. This way you can see into people’s windows easier.” Brian explained and Justin couldn’t help but smile a little. Brian seemed nervous and Justin realized that it was because Brian really wanted him to like the present. And he did.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely and smiled a little broader.

“I got you something else, too.” Brian said and pulled out the other object in the bag. It was a large, professional camera. “You probably won’t be able to use it until your hand gets stronger, but when it does I figured it’d be nice to have. If you see something interesting. Maybe…” Brian hesitated but cleared his throat and continued one. “Maybe something you want to paint.”

Justin stilled and looked at the camera intently. He hadn’t even thought about his art since he woke up from his coma. It had been a purposeful avoidance tactic – one he’d learned from Brian. Even if he could paint, he didn’t think anyone would want to see what he had to show. He knew PIFA was simply out of the question anymore, even if he miraculously got better today they’d already given his spot away. It hadn’t bothered him to think about it because being an artist was a dream that would never be realized, thanks to Hobbs.

“Thanks…” He said, though this one was decidedly less sincere than the last. Brian didn’t seem to mind. He simply set the camera aside before wrapping an around Justin’s shoulder and pulling him in for a light kiss. When Brian moved away, Justin looked down at the gifts once more and then over to the rearranged furniture. “You’re really okay with me staying here?” Justin asked and Brian looked at him confused.

“This is your home.” Brian said it so simply, as if it was obvious. But to Justin, the fact was this was Brian’s home, and he was merely a guest in it. And guests didn’t stay forever. Brian was accommodating now, but what about in six months? He knew it was only a matter of time before Brian got sick of him – it only took a few weeks before.

Justin realized Brian was leading him over to the window, so he followed and sat next to the man. “So, tell me what you know.” Brian requested and tapped the binoculars.

“Not much. But now I’ll see everything.” Justin answered with a smile and lifted them up to gaze through the window.