Home | Story Index | Rand_Alt LJ | RRambles Yahoo Group | Links | Contact
Point Counterpoint Latest Posts | Point Counterpoint Archives
Printer-friendly page

Episode 309
by Phantom of QAF

The Phantom speaks: Took a break in digging today. Fingers are tired. Stayed in my basement lair, working away and listening to Theaís CD on the boombox. My mobile rang. I answered. "Phantom?" A manís voice, slightly familiar. "Yes?" "Hi, this is Gale." I fell out of my chair, stopped breathing, restarted my heart by tearing the wires off the boombox and using the electricity to get it started, then said, calmly, "Uh, hi Gale." "I have to know. What do you plan to do with me if you ever make it to my trailer? Should I be afraid?" "Afraid? AFRAID?? Like I would ever harm a perfect hair on your perfect head! I just want to tell you, face to face, how wonderful I think you are." "That makes me really uncomfortable." "Ok, then we can talk about soccer." "There you go! You play?" "Did." "What position?" "Striker." "Cool, I played stopper. I stopped you." "Donít stop me now!" Laughter. "Phantom, Iím being called onto the set. Maybe we can..." The call dropped. The frigging mobile call dropped! AAARRGGHHHH!!!!!!! Kerplunk. (Phantom fainted.)

Last week on Transitions:

Justin calls Brian and when Trevor answers, he misunderstands and flares at Brian when they talk later. Brian returns to Pittsburgh and has dinner at Trevor's penthouse. He later goes to Babylon, where he and Michael have an argument.

Scene 1: Brian's office, morning.

"What the hell is this?" Gardner Vance barged into Brian's office as Brian was going through storyboards with his team. They had less than an hour to prepare for a meeting with Trevor. Vance waved a sheet of paper at Brian. Brian glanced at it, but refused to take it from him. "Well?" Gardner persisted. "Five figures for a weekend retreat?"

"That's right, Gardner. I treated Trevor Rainer and his team to a weekend at Salt Springs with my team and me. It's called client development. We have a fund for that."

"Five figures? Don't you think you should have consulted with me first?"

"You told me to do whatever I had to do to land this account. I'm not a junior ad exec, Gardner. I'm a partner. I have some say in how we spend this firm's money, and we're talking about a client with a ten million dollar annual spend. If you're so worried about it, I'll make you a deal. Boost my signing bonus by twenty-five per cent if I land this account, and I'll pay that voucher out of my own pocket. Either way, I'll pay it. If I don't get the account, you're home free. If I do, it will net me just slightly less on the bonus."

Gardner smiled. "You're that confident, are you?"

"These guys have worked their collective asses off to come up with the best ad campaign of my career."

"I guess Mr. Rainer will be the judge of that. I accept your little wager, Brian. Your ego continues to fascinate me. Bon chance." He left the bill on Brian's desk and walked out as Cynthia stared vacantly at her boss.

"Are you CRAZY? That's a lot of money to write off, Brian!"

He shrugged. "Worst case scenario, it's a tax deduction for a business expense. So, where were we?"

Scene 2: Conference room, continuous.

Trevor and his team seemed tense as Brian welcomed them to the meeting. Gardner Vance was introduced and Brian began the pitch by dimming the lights and opening doors on the wall to reveal a large screen television. Brian used a remote to start the action. "As Time Goes By" played in the background as the picture came up. The color was washed, muted, and a Humphrey Bogart lookalike was leaning on a piano in a club setting, while a man played the song. The "faux" Humphrey wore a white dinner jacket and looked morose when suddenly...his mobile phone rang. The camera closed in on the instrument in his hand. The screen on the telephone illuminated a real-color image, very vivid in contrast to the muted setting, of an Ingrid Bergman lookalike standing in front of the Eiffel tower. "Rick," she was saying. "We can still have Paris. I'm here. Where are you?" Fade to the company's logo, and a voiceover that said, "The interactive, real time, true image Z-13. Begin a beautiful friendship with your mobile."

Brian switched it off, the lights went up, and he glanced at Trevor, who shook his head and said, "Casablanca? You manipulative bastard."

Brian smiled. "That's what we do in advertising. We manipulate."

"What's your plan?"

"A series of well known movie images in scenes people will know and appreciate ranging from Casablanca to King Kong to Apocalypse Now. The hook is to key on the fact that the phone can broadcast a real time image of the person you are talking to. You see as well as hear. You can use the earpiece so you can view the screen while you talk. And if they buy a Z-13, they can see you too. It's the power of the image. And nothing sells images like the classic movies."

Brian motioned for Cynthia and another member of his team to place the storyboards on easels around the room, demonstrating other advertising possibilities. Trevor and his team wandered from easel to easel, talking quietly to each other, while Gardner shot Brian a nervous look. Brian just shrugged, refusing to look anxious. Finally, Trevor turned to Brian and said, "Can you give me a few minutes alone with my team?"

"Of course," he motioned for his associates to leave, and then walked out with Gardner. They gathered in a neighboring conference room, where Vance glared at him. "That mock ad cost a fortune to shoot. Just the talent was expensive, not to mention the production value."

"The Humphrey guy is an actor friend of mine, a local. He did it for next to nothing," Brian ignored Cynthia's knowing smile. "The rest was affordable. I wrote the copy myself. The expensive part, if they buy it, will be getting the rights to use the intellectual property, but it would be worth it. And some of it has become public domain through the passage of time."

After a nervous interval, an assistant entered the room. "Excuse me, but Mr. Rainer would like to meet with Mr. Kinney. Alone."

Brian rose and gave a thumb's up to his team as he left. Cynthia knew him well enough to read the tension in his expression, so she crossed her fingers under the table, just for luck. In the other conference room, Trevor was now alone. He was looking at a mock up of Fay Wray in the grip of King Kong. She was staring at her mobile. The tag line read, "Meet me at the top of the Empire. NOW!"

Brian stood there, arms crossed at his chest, watching and waiting for Trevor to make the first move. Trevor turned and motioned to the chairs. "Shall we sit?"

"Sure. Where's your team?"

"I sent them home. They have work to do."

Brian felt his stomach sink. If he missed on this one, his instincts were as good as gone. "Well, let's not dance around the maypole, Trev. Give it to me."

Trevor laughed. "That sounds vaguely sexual. But yes, I'll be blunt," he leaned forward, earnestly clasping his hands together on the table. "It's bloody brilliant!"

Brian felt relief course through him, but he willed himself to give away no visible emotion. "Thanks."

"Seriously. Well planned, edgy but approachable, ties in beautifully with the equipment's main draw and should appeal to a broad demographic."

"I have an idea for a sub-campaign for your younger customers that reads more like a music video. I think we sign a hot musical group, maybe rap or hip hop, and...."

"Brian," Trevor interrupted. "You closed the deal. Shut up."

Brian smiled and leaned back in his chair, his lips sealed.

"I have some caveats, of course, that the lawyers can hammer out."

"Such as?"

"Non disclosure, naturally. Dedicated account team. And you have to be our sole partner level contact. You come with the deal. If you walk, the deal walks with you."

Brian shrugged. "That just increases my value to the firm, so I won't complain about that."

"I know it does, Brian. I know."

Their eyes met and Brian smiled. "Thanks."

"You earned it."

Brian wanted to throw him down on the table and fuck him blind at that moment, but he thought better of it. Trevor read the gleam in his eyes and smiled. "Your ass is not part of the deal and neither is mine. Understood?"


"So tonight, we celebrate. Your team and mine. You pick the place, and your firm can pick up the tab."


They stood, shook hands, then Brian slipped his arms around Trevor and kissed him gently on the lips. It was a sweet kiss, but fire licked just beneath the surface. When they separated, Trevor let his fingers drift over Brian's hand. "You're an enigma wrapped in a mystery, Brian."

Brian said nothing, offering only a slight raise of his brow in response.

Once Trevor left, Brian rejoined his team and announced the good news. Now it was up to legal to paper the deal. His team could concentrate less on the rainmaking aspect of it and more on the creative. They left him alone in the conference room with Gardner Vance, who shook Brian's hand.

"You obviously tricked me with that offer to pay the tab if I increased your signing bonus, but one can forgive a little trickery when you reel in a sizeable account. Why am I not surprised that he wants an exclusive with you?"

Brian smiled wryly. "I learned a few lessons from Ryder. I won't be caught again without a personal portfolio. As for the trickery, I was blunt with you about how locked up I believed this account to be."

"True, I'll give you that. May I ask a personal question, Brian?"

"So long as I can refuse to answer it."

"Fair enough. Is there a personal relationship between you and Rainer that gave you such confidence in this account? It's no secret that he's gay and he seems quite taken with you."

Brian leaned back in his chair, rolling his tongue along the interior of his jaw. "Because we're both gay, we must be fucking. Is that it?"

"Well, I...after all, you're both attractive, successful gay men. Single. Why not?"

Brian stood and placed his hand on Vance's shoulder as he said, "You're spending way too much time picturing this. It's none of your fucking business, Gardner, but to make sure my team gets full credit for this account, rather than my dick sharing in the glory, the answer is no. We're not fucking. Not yet, anyway. And don't ask me that again. Not ever." He left the room and went into his office where his team had gathered. They were still giddy, celebrating, and Brian glared at them.

"Don't you people have work to do? We have an ad campaign to launch. Go!" He grabbed Cynthia's arm as she tried to exit. "You stay."

The others cast her a sympathetic look, and when they were alone, Brian charged her with planning the celebration dinner, then said, "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" She asked as she hurried to keep up with his long strides. They went down one floor in the elevator, and Cynthia smiled to herself as she noticed how the worker bees bustled when Brian came into view. He was known to be sarcastic and blunt if he happened upon someone who was slacking off. He led her down a corridor of small interior offices and stopped at a vacant space.

"This place needs to be cleaned up," he said to her, rubbing his finger over the dust that formed a thin veil on the desk. "Get some new furniture ordered. Buy that modular stuff. It's clean looking and more functional. A new desk chair would be good and have the walls painted and the carpet replaced. I'm adding an account exec and I need a place for them to roost. Can you oversee that for me?"

Cynthia looked crestfallen. Not only was she not getting the promotion, but she was being told to clean up the space for the person who would be in the job she wanted. She felt her eyes fill with tears as she swallowed hard and said, "What color do you want the walls and carpet?"

Brian shrugged. "Why do I give a shit? Pick whatever color you want. It's your office, after all."

She was too stunned to react at first, then she saw his slight smile and shook her head before throwing her arms around his neck in a big hug. He laughed and peeled her away. "People will think you fucked me to get the job."

She laughed, wiping away tears that were now caused by joy. "NO one will think that, Brian! Trust me! Are you sure about this?"

"You told me you were ready. Prove it. Human Resources can tell you your compensation package. Don't put a down payment on a yacht, but it's a nice increase."

"Thank you," she said softly, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"You earned it, kid. Don't let me down."

"I won't."

"And don't get so caught up in having your own office that you fuck up this dinner."

"I'll get right on it."

Brian left her there. He felt satisfied with himself. He'd landed the account. He'd pleased Trevor. He'd got an even bigger bonus than he anticipated. He'd cemented his place in the firm. And he'd promoted a deserving candidate, one whom he liked very much. A good day and it wasn't even noon. Nothing could stop him now. He rounded the corner to his office and stopped cold. Justin was seated there in the waiting area. He stood up when Brian came into view. Brian's secretary looked uncomfortable, but Brian ignored her as he motioned for Justin to step into his office.

Scene 3: Brian's office.

Brian sipped water from a bottle while Justin declined his offer of a drink. Justin sat across from his desk with uneasy anticipation. Brian hated the way he felt right now. Nervous, longing, wanting to scoop Justin into his arms but he knew he couldn't. He hoped this wasn't going to be too painful. He wanted Justin there in the room with him, and yet he ached at the distance between them. On the surface, he showed no emotion.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch on the phone the other day, Brian. I know I was unfair."

"Forget it."

"I can't forget it. We really haven't talked since...since I left."

"No need for that."

"Look, that song you sent me..."

Brian held up his hand. "You made yourself very clear about that song, Justin. I get it, okay? I was just trying to make a point. I realize it's not the style of music either of us routinely listen to. But that wasn't the purpose of it."

"I know the purpose of it, Brian, and I appreciate what you were trying to say. I just said those things about the song being lame because I was jealous of that man who answered your phone. I know it's stupid, that I'm the one who left, but I can't help what I feel. It'll take awhile to stop feeling that way."

Don't ever stop feeling that way, Brian wanted to say as he focused on those blue eyes, but of course, he didn't. "Don't be. He's just a friend." Why was he excusing himself to Justin? Justin was living with another man, a man he left Brian for. Fuck him! Why did he have to explain anything? "Why are you here?"

Justin sighed, sensing the chill that came into Brian's voice. "I had an appointment with a neurologist and since it was close by..."

"What did the doc say?"

"Gave me some pills. Took some xrays. Talked to me about the signs of an oncoming migraine and what to do to manage the pain. Talked to me about triggers. Nothing new," he filtered his fingers through his fair hair and Brian frowned.

"How did you get that bruise on your forehead?"

Justin was amazed that he saw it. It was so small and almost covered by his hair. "It's nothing."

"It's a bruise. What happened?"

"You know how I am. I'm so pale that I bruise if a butterfly lands on me."

"And yet a butterfly didn't land on you, so what is it?"

"I...I hit it with the phone."

"You hit your head with the phone? Got lost looking for your ear?"

Justin sighed, falling deeper into the lie. "You know how it is, you lift it up and maybe use too much force. It just smacks your head, and BOOM! There's a bruise."

Brian wrinkled his brow. He didn't buy it and didn't understand why Justin felt he had to lie about it. But then, did he really have the right to ask? "You want to go to lunch?"

Justin brightened at that prospect. "Sure but not..."

"No, not Liberty Diner. Come on."

Brian walked out with him, not noticing Cynthia's uneasy stare as they crossed her path. She paused at Brian's secretary's desk. "What's that all about?"

Brian's secretary smiled with conspiratorial intimacy. "Justin's his boyfriend. If I know Brian, and I think I do, I would guess they're out for a quickie."

Cynthia said nothing, knowing that was unlikely and hoping this didn't mean more pain for her already vulnerable boss.

Scene 4: La Vie En Rose, a cafť.

The bistro was just beginning to fill with luncheon diners. Brian was well known there, bringing clients fairly often. He was immediately given a quiet table in back, his usual preference. Riding over in the Jeep, watching Brian drive, Justin felt as if he had stepped back in time. He was surprised by how comfortable the past made him feel. His appetite returned and he ordered French onion soup and the daily quiche. Brian's luncheon choices were less fatty. He complemented the meal with a good bottle of French wine.

After some initial awkwardness, Brian found himself telling Justin about the account he landed, the ad campaign he created, the pitch. Just like old times, when he could unload his day on his lover before they had sex. No sex today, but the conversation was exhilarating enough. Justin's enthusiasm, laughter and compliments made Brian feel validated. He beamed under Justin's obvious approval and pride.

"So I have to pay the tab for the weekend, but with the bump in my bonus, I still come out way ahead. This is true even after I paid for having the Jeep detailed to get rid of all that damned dog hair!"

Justin laughed, a little tipsy from the wine, picturing Brian's expression when a large dog was loaded into his Jeep. "You must have SHIT when he brought that dog along."

"What could I say? I need this account, and besides, he's a sweet dog," Brian scowled. "But not in my car, no not that. Not again."

"Is Trevor good looking? I got a glimpse of him in the Jeep that morning, but not much. He's blond?"

"Yeah," Brian replied carefully. "Blond. He's hot, but..."

Justin smiled and reached over to pat Brian's hand on the table. That little contact seemed to bind both of them together with an invisible, familiar current. "I know. It's just business. So you've said a hundred times."

"This is sweet," Ethan's voice interrupted and Justin withdrew his hand from Brian's and stared in horror at Ethan, who held up his violin. "Can I serenade you two with a special song? A romantic favorite, perhaps? Something reminiscent of a lost love?"

"W-what are you doing here?" Justin asked with a fear that caused Brian pause.

"I just got a gig playing requests for diners, and some background music. Mostly for tips, but also a little base pay. We need to pay the rent and buy food, babe. Remember?"

Brian unfolded a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and held it up to Ethan. "Here's a request. Get lost."

For the first time, Ethan looked at Brian. He surprised Brian by the suppressed rage in his eyes. "I don't want your money. Here's one you seem to like, Justin. You play it often enough." He launched into a manic version of "I Won't Send Roses" and Brian got to his feet and left some money on the table.

"Can you get home okay?" he asked. Justin nodded, looking down at his folded hands on the table as Ethan continued to fiddle furiously, destroying the gentle tone of the ballad. Brian deliberately leaned over and kissed Justin on the forehead. Ironically, his lips brushed the bruise as he did so. When Brian left, Ethan stopped playing. He glared at his lover.

Justin sighed. "I was at the doctor, near Brian's office and I just thought..."

"We'll discuss it tonight," Ethan said, catching the gaze of the manager. "Be there when I get home."

"Ethan, it was nothing..."

"Later," he traveled to another table. Justin left the cafť. His lunch settled in his curdled stomach like a load of cement.

Scene 5: The Piranha Bar and Grill, that evening.

"Where the hell is he?" Gardner Vance said in a stage whisper to Cynthia as he grabbed her upper arm. She was wearing a sleeveless "little black dress". His touch was unwelcome. She pulled free.

"I'm sure he'll be here shortly, Mr. Vance. You know how Brian is. He has a thousand things going at once."

"I do know how Brian is, and I can GUESS what he has going at this moment! His principal client is here and..." he paused as Brian entered the chic restaurant, looking elegant in a dark Prada suit and tie and white hand tailored shirt.

Brian paused to buss Cynthia's cheek and shake Vance's hand. "Is Trevor here yet?"

"Yes, for the last ten minutes!" Vance groused and Brian smiled.

"Gardner, did you know those are real piranha in that tank behind the bar? Recognize any of your relatives?"

Cynthia restrained a giggle as Vance walked off, grumbling to himself. "You're tweaked," she said to Brian with an accusatory smile, and he shrugged.

"Just a little."

"Where were you?"

"I stopped off for a steam."

"You went to the baths before coming here?" She asked in wonder and he smiled and winked at her.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. There's Trev. I'd better go say hello."

Cynthia watched him walk away and sighed. She knew why he had to do what he did. Justin. Pain. Sex and drugs to make it stop. But it never worked, and her heart went out to him. It wasn't fair that one of the biggest days of his career was marred by an unexpected visit from his ex.

Scene 6: Ethan's apartment.

Ethan glanced around the apartment, taking in the candlelight and the aroma of fresh cooked curry. The slightly wilted flowers Ethan had given Justin were on the table along with placesettings for two. Justin smiled nervously as he carried in a large bowl of steaming chicken curry and rice.

"It's your favorite. Curry. I got the recipe from our neighbors from Calcutta. You know, that medical student and his wife? It was really easy to make. She gave me the spices. It smells wonderful, doesn't it?"

Ethan said nothing, setting down his violin case and sprawling in a chair as Justin served the food. Justin sat down in the other chair and served himself. He forced a steady stream of light banter that was met with stony silence. Ethan ate, but didn't comment, his mood unaltered. After they finished, Justin stored the uneaten portion and carried an apple pie to the table. "Don't get excited. My Mom dropped this off, so I can't take any credit. You'll love her apple pie, though. She makes it the old fashioned way with fresh sliced apples, not that canned crap." Ethan bumped his arm, and the pie fell face down on the hardwoods. Justin shooed the cat away and sighed.

"Well, I guess you'll have to try it another time. Sorry," he leaned over to clean it up when he felt a hard blow slam into his lower back, knocking him to his knees. He turned as the pain traveled up his spine and hammered his kidneys. Ethan was standing. He had sucker punched Justin in the lower back with a forceful fist. Justin held up a hand to stop him and Ethan kicked him hard in the shin.

"Why do you do this, Justin? Why do you test me this way? I told you to stay away from him, now didn't I? You promised me you would, didn't you? Didn't you, you filthy little liar?"

"Ethan, I..." Justin's fears came flooding back, immobilizing him. He was supposed to be in a safe place when he was home. Now home was a battleground fraught with hidden landmines. Justin had nowhere to hide, and he felt helpless and vulnerable. His stomach ached along with his back and shin, as Ethan continued.

"Why did you lie to me? Why? What else are you lying about? Are you still fucking him?"


"I don't believe you. Let me see if I can smell him on you. I know the scent of that expensive soap he uses," Ethan shoved him back onto the floor and hovered over him as he moved his nose along his neck and shoulder, his arms, his abdomen. He opened Justin's jeans and sniffed his pubes, his dick. Justin squeezed his eyes shut, barely breathing. His heart slammed against his ribs as fear flooded him with adrenaline. Justin felt as if a carnivorous animal was trying to decide whether he was worth devouring. He heard the rustle of clothes, then he felt Ethan's hard cock against his belly. Ethan lowered his weight onto Justin. He humped Justin and bit at his neck, his shoulder, his lips. Ethan tore Justin's shirt to expose his torso.

"I'll leave my own scent on you," Ethan whispered in a hoarse voice. "I'll mark you like the piece of property you are!" Within minutes, the constant friction of Justin's body against his own caused Ethan to ejaculate and he spread his semen over Justin's belly, chest, neck, wetting as much as he could with the sticky substance. When he withdrew from him, Justin got to his feet with some effort, wincing at the pain in his back.

"Where are you going?" Ethan insisted and Justin sighed.

"Take a shower."

"No. I want you to wear it to bed. I want you to remember that scent whenever you think about Brian fucking Kinney."

"Ethan, it stings and it's sticky."

"So? Better to remind you. Come on. I'll read out loud to you in bed. I got a new poetry book. You like it when I read poetry to you. It's romantic."

Justin was too numb, too scared to argue with him. He allowed himself to be led to the bed where Ethan tenderly undressed him, kissing exposed portions of his skin like a concerned and gentle lover. Justin felt nothing as he did this, as if he were watching someone else enact the entire scene. Naked, glazed with Ethan's dried issue, Justin slipped beneath the covers. He stared blankly at the ceiling while Ethan read love poetry aloud, one arm resting behind Justin's head.

Scene 7: Piranha Bar and Grill

Brian and Trevor occupied a quiet booth in the bar, drinking dry martinis and continuing the celebratory mood of the evening, long after the others had gone.

"So, are we it?" Brian asked, looking around. He smiled as he spotted Cynthia. She was laughing at a back table with a young man, the two of them obviously enamored. "Who's the buck hitting on Cyn?"

Trevor followed his gaze to the table. "Oh, that's Josh. He's a dog, man. Cyn better be careful. He prides himself as being quite the ladies man."

Brian winced, believing Cynthia deserved someone better than a heterosexual version of himself. "Oh well, she's a big girl. Maybe she just wants to get laid."


Brian laughed. "Still on that Cynthia is my mistress thing? Get over it. Unless she suddenly grows a dick we'll remain the friends that we are and nothing more."

"How does your calendar look for next week?"

Brian pulled a slim device from his pocket and brought up his electronic calendar on the screen. "I have some meetings that I could rearrange, if it's important."

"We should go to London."


"Yes. You're a strategic partner, now, Brian. You need to meet the powers that be back at our international headquarters."

"Sure, let's do it," Brian tried to sound nonchalant, but the thought of going to London thrilled him.

Trevor smiled. "Swell! I will love showing you my hometown. "

"There's so much I want to see."

"You needn't book a hotel. I have a place in Chelsea that's plenty big enough for us both. It's a family property, but at the moment, it's unleased."

"Rich family?" Brian realized he knew little about Trevor other than his dossier.

Trevor shrugged. "Landed gentry. Not so rich on cash flow. My father died a few years ago, and most of it fell to me as the eldest son. Truthfully, it's rather a hassle, to deal with all the pockets of real estate, and tenants and taxes, but mother needs the income from it. She maintains a flat in London but spends most of her time in the Cotswolds."

"Where's that?"

"A lovely garden spot a few hours from London. It's all about the stone cottages and flowering gardens and quaint villages you see in the Miss Marple mysteries."

Brian smiled. "I seem to have missed Miss Marple."

"That's because they don't show it in the backrooms or at the baths."

"Shut up," Brian said with a laugh. He looked up as Cynthia walked by with the handsome Josh. They didn't even see Brian and Trevor, so Brian called out to her. She stopped, automatically releasing Josh's hand. Her face pinked with embarrassment.

"Uh, hi, Brian. I thought you had left."

"And yet here I am. Where are you two going at this late hour?"

"Um, Josh is walking me to my car. See you tomorrow."

"Very gallant," Brian said, feeling a stroke of jealousy. He wasn't jealous of Cynthia's attraction to the man. He was jealous of the whole idea of two strangers hooking up with hopeful prospects. He and Trevor left soon after, saying goodbye with a quick kiss in the parking lot. When Brian got home, he had a message from Justin.

"It's late, don't call back. Please! Talk to you later."

Brian frowned, wondering what he wanted, but acceding to his request not to call. There was also a call from Mikey.

"Brian, you asshole. If you don't want to be friends anymore, just say so."

Brian sighed and pushed end. He was too tired to deal with Michael's dramatics this late. As he got into bed, the phone rang again. Thinking it was Justin, he picked it up. "I'm coming over," Michael insisted.

"Not now, it's late. I was just going the bed."

"Tough shit, Brian. I'm on my way."


Michael had hung up.

Next week on Transitions:

Michael stays over at Brian's loft following an argument and reconciliation. Justin sees him there the next morning and misunderstands. Later, Michael suspects what is happening with Justin but he blames the wrong culprit.


Episode 310

Disclaimer: The television show Queer As Folk and its characters are the property of Showtime and CowLip Productions. No money is being made. Stories and discussion are intended purely for the entertainment of fans of Queer as Folk, the Brian and Justin characters, and Randall's writings.
Contact Site Admin with questions or technical problems.

July 25, 2004