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Adrian to Brian, Brian to Adrian Chapter 6

Image by Heather

Two weeks later:

A,

How is sunny Barcelona? Tapas? Beach? All night orgy clubs? I've heard. As for me, I'm back in the saddle again, and I owe it all to my sainted mother. No as kinky as that sounds. She heard about the cancer so she came over as if to comfort me. I was immediately suspicious. It turned into her usual "all faggots go to hell" harangue and I yelled back at her. Shazam! The old hormones kicked in, the blood flowed and I popped a woody as she stormed out. Don't expect to see dear old mom anytime soon. It's a better than even trade to have the action back in my jackson, however. The sex feels pretty much the same, don't notice any real shift in load or amount, so I guess one really is a spare.

B


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B,

So glad that action jackson is resurging, but I never doubted a successful comeback. You sound good. That makes me happy. Sorry about your mum. I got lucky with my parents. If all fags go to hell, can you picture how beautifully decorated, catered, tricked out and sexy hell must be? Not to mention all the creative geniuses and talent residing there. What great plays must be written and what great casts to act in them and choreograph them. Think of the music being composed and the dancing. Fashions must be sublime. I can finally meet my personal hero, Oscar Wilde. Who the fuck would want to go to heaven?

A


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A,

You make me long for hell! LOL! Finally, something to aspire to in the afterlife. I'm training in a spinning class because I want to do this bike ride between Canada and the US to benefit Liberty House. I have some sponsors lined up, but I thought maybe you knew the COO of a big corporation in Europe who might be willing to sponsor me. If so, I think I can get that place re-habbed and re-named in honor of Vic. They give AIDS victims a place to live and to die in humane quarters. What do you say, big shot? This time I am asking. Please? For me?

B


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B,

I don't know a COO, actually, but as it happens, I know a guy who will be named successor CEO of a rather large conglomerate at the next Board Meeting, and I suspect he could be persuaded to support such a worthy cause. Oh, and no, it's not just for you. Send the particulars to my office. I'll make it worth your while. As for Barcelona, I want to show it to you one day. I love this city. The movie star and I parted ways over fried baby octopi at my favorite tapas café. It may have been my roving eye, but then again, it may have been all those embryonic octopi staring up at us through the breading. But I'm really fine with it. He was beginning to repeat his clever stories and even his boyish good looks were getting tired. Plus, he thought I was a blank check and I'm too young to be a sugar daddy. Yes, I really am, shut your hole! Is this race too rigorous so soon after surgery and treatment? Not to nag, but... yes, I am nagging. Are you sure it's a good idea? I'll sponsor another if money is an issue.

A


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A,

Probably a really, really bad idea for me to do this ride, but I need to for me as well as for Vic. I need to regain my belief that I'm invincible or something like that. CEO??! Man, I can say I knew you when you were nothing but a marketing grunt. Good one, Adrian. You deserve it. Sorry about your actor. And yes, you're too young to be a sugar daddy. We need something to look forward to in our extreme old age, right? I figure buying boys will be it for me. Justin is going to Hollywood to do some preliminary art work while I'm gone on the ride. I hope he decides to come back. Thanks again for your support of this good cause. It's nice to have rich friends.

B


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B,

Well, friends who work for rich companies, anyway.

A


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One month later:

A,

Saw your CEO announcement all over the international business news media. Good pictures, too, but what's with the hair? Did your movie star teach you about gel? I liked it better the old way. But you look good, you haven't changed. I survived the ride, but barely. Thanks again for the check. It really made a difference and the Vic Grassi house has now been launched. Deb was very moved by honoring Vic in that way. Beats the hell out of a big stone angel on his grave. My friend Mikey married Zen Ben while we were in Toronto, but the good ol' US of A annulled it effectively when we crossed the border. Assholes. I broke my collar bone during the ride. Don't even ask. Mikey had to practically carry me over the finish line, but I made it and Justin was there to scrape me up off the pavement. I asked him to officially move in with me, because it's been pretty unofficial since the Big C split us up. He tells me he's been asked to relocate to Hollywood to work on the art direction for the Rage film. Of course I told him to go. He has to go. Selfishly, I think if my time on earth is to be limited by this fucking disease, it would've been nice to spend it with him. Being alone a lot, I tend to think too much about my own mortality. But I can't steal this chance from him because I'm ill. Besides, I should spend more time with Gus. Work on the business. I'll be fine. I had a dream where Vic told me I'd be here a long, long time. I like to think of it as prophetic. Trying to gain back a little weight. The bike ride pulled it down even lower. Thanks again, Adrian. You're a good friend.

B


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B,

You broke your collar bone? Brian, what wizard did you fuck over along the way? He is obviously demanding retribution! Serious note, radiation and chemo can weaken your skeletal and immune system so you really need to take better care. I wish he could do his art work remotely and stay in the same town with you, to look after you. But as a dedicated workaholic, myself, I guess I should shut up on that score. Have you considered discussing your fears with him? Of course not. That would imply you believe you're less than invincible and you must maintain your ironman image with him at all times. Utter bullshit. Talk to him for God's sake! Your time is not limited, Brian. Stop talking that way. It breaks my heart. You've beaten this thing. Listen to Vic's shade on that point. I want to hear from you more often. Your updates are something I very much anticipate. No more long delays between. Deal? I'll be more faithful about reporting, too.

A


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A,

Deal. I don't need looking after, Adrian. I'm not that pathetic. Feeling better, in fact. I have a fear, however. I fear he'll get out there and while balling movie stars and the like, living the good life in his director's guest house, cruising West Hollywood, he'll decide never to come back to Pittsburgh. Why should he? If I were his age, I wouldn't come back. But... I want him. I really do. I wish he were here. Seems we spend so much more time apart than we do together. Weird way to run a relationship. By the way, my latest scan shows perfectly clear. So far so good. But it's not a cure until five years is up. So I have a long, long way to go.

B


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B,

Why should he come back, you ask? Because you're there, Brian. The crap you're describing in Hollywood is transient and meaningless. In you, he found a treasure. He may be young, but from what you've told me, he's not stupid. Give him a break. Give yourself a break. Trust me, I know, fucking movie stars? Not so big a deal. And I'm dead chuffed over the scan report! Fabulous! Sad news on my side of the pond. I lost my father. Well, didn't lose him exactly, knew where he was all along. (gallows humour) He died last night. He suffered from Myasthenia Gravis. It's a degenerative muscular disease with no cure. I've watched him fail over the years, becoming feeble and helpless, physically. But he never lost his brilliance, his wit, or his optimism. My Mum is devastated of course. They were married forever and seemed so well-suited and happy together. One of my brothers along with his darling wife and their sweet children live nearby so I presume Mum will stay where she is to be near the grandchildren. My other brother is in an AIDS hospice in London. Not unlike your Vic Grassi House, so now you see why I was more than happy to contribute to that cause. He's in an advanced stage of the disease, with much dementia. He'll be unable to travel for the funeral, and really couldn't comprehend it anyway. He contracted AIDS by sharing needles, as he is a long time IV heroin addict. I've devoted much time and money tying to save my little brother, to no avail. Recidivism always pulled him back into that life. So sad. Dark clouds over England, I'm afraid. Give us a hug.

A


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A,

God damn it, Adrian, why do you let me whine on and on about my own pathetic problems and never share yours? I was thinking that I was such a downer while your life was so golden. Big hug for you, Adrian. Please accept my deepest sympathy. I was never close to my Dad. However, we made a tentative peace before he died. I came out to him and I can't say he handled it well, but eventually he accepted it. His death racked me more than I thought possible. I'm also sorry about your brother. Hate AIDS, hate it. I could have gone that route myself, I have addiction issues. I think my vanity and my addiction to sex saved me from the needle. Thinking about you. Another hug.

B


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Two weeks later.

B,

Back in London. Funeral over, estate settled. Mum is coping. Thanks for your generous contribution to the MG Foundation in my father's memory. I feel half an orphan, odd for a man my age. My dad was such a funny old twit. When I came out to him, years and years ago, he got very solemn, and then said, "Ad, (he called me "Ad") should I really know or care what you do with your willy? I think not. Your business not mine." Hahaha. I feel so lost without him. What do I do now?

A


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A,

Adrian, you let yourself grieve. You have to grieve. You have to cry. I know it's hard for CEO's to cry, but you must. Put your head down by your computer and imagine my fingers in your hair, soothing you. Let me tell you it will all get better over time. Let me be there for you and share your pain. I owe you one.

B


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B,

I am.

A


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A,

You're not alone. I'm here.

B


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A week later.

B,

I love you, Brian.

A


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A,

I know.

B


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B,

I can't wait forever.

A


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A,

I know. Sometimes I feel really confused. Sometimes I want to chuck it all and run to London. But I can't.

B


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B,

I know you can't, and I don't want you when you still love another. Should we take a break?

A


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A,

Only if you insist. I rely on you.

B


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B,

It would be best for me, but how do I do that? How do I go through life without you?

A


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A

Don't try.

B


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B,

Give me a little time.

A


**********************************

A,

If you insist.

B


**********************************

B,

I have no choice.

A


**********************************

A,

I'll miss you.

B


**********************************

B,

Mutual.

A



NOTE: THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF ABBA CONTAINS SEASON FIVE SPOILERS

Continue to Chapter 7

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July 25, 2004