“I get down, I feel had, feel on the verge of going mad, and then it’s time to punch the clock.”  Stephen Trask

Brian had just gotten into his office when Cynthia buzzed him.  He jumped, hating the sound of the stupid intercom.  It made his skin crawl.  Why Cynthia was so opposed to just instant messaging him was beyond Brian. 

He grabbed one of his pens and held the button down.  “Where were you when I got in?”  Brian asked in a frustrated tone.  “And why can’t you just use the IM you know I hate this thing.”  He sighed.

Cynthia took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, glad that her boss could not see her.  “Mr. Kinney, you know that I have trouble with that whole thing, and this way is much quicker.  To answer you question I was in the restroom.”

Brian sighed.  “Sorry Cynthia.  Sorry I…I..”  His nervousness took over and he released the talk button as a wave of panic over took him.

Within minutes Cynthia was in front of him.  Brian had his head bowed into his lap and taking deep breaths from one of the stack of paper bag’s he kept in his desk drawer.  He could see his assistant set a bottle of water in front of him.  The whole room seemed to be spinning and the paper bag was not lessening the intensity as it normally did.
Quickly, Brian got up from his chair and raced into his bathroom to dispose of the breakfast he had recently eaten.  After a minute or two of kneeling on the dirty tile floor he felt even worse and called to Cynthia, whom he was sure was hovering outside his bathroom door.  “Get me a change of clothes from my closet please?”  He asked as he stripped his offending clothing and placed them in the waste basket.

Cynthia knocked on the door and Brian opened it just enough to hold his arm out and mumble a thank you.  Before placing his clothes on the toilet seat he ripped off some paper towels and sat them on the lid.  

Then Brian started to grab the things from his medicine cabinet.  The first was his tooth brush and toothpaste.  It took him nearly ten minutes to brush his perfect white teeth and he spent another five on brushing his tongue to get the putrid taste of puke off of it.

Another ten minutes was spent as Brian lathered up his hands with antibacterial soap, up to his elbows before washing it off in steaming hot water.  He let out a deep breath at the familiar harshness of the temperature and felt his body calming as he watched the suds disappear down the drain of the marble sink.

Brian then took out a disposable cleansing cloth and scrubbed his face clean of any bacteria he thought might have gotten on him when he was forced to put his head so close to the toilet.  

Looking into the mirror Brian stared at himself.  He was content with his appearance for the time being and decided he was clean enough to clothe himself.  

The first thing he put on was a pair of fruit of the loom red boxers, they were on of probably 30 pairs.  He could not recall the last time he had worn anything but that brand, style and color.  He liked the way the felt on him and looking in the full length mirror on his bathroom door he admitted to himself that they looked nice on him too.

Not that anyone had ever seen Brian Kinney in only a pair of boxer shorts.  No, Brian could not imagine anyone wanting to get close to a man like him.  Yet, he still dreamed that one day the blond artist might.

Thoughts of Justin Taylor instantly made Brian stronger.  He quickly put his new khaki pants and green button up on, smoothed down his hair and walked back into his office, ready to face another long day.  That is of course after he washed his hands one more time for good measure.

“Brian?”  Cynthia asked worried about her friend.  In the privacy of Brian’s off ice she addressed him the same way she had since they were six.

“I, I am fine Cynthia.”  Brian assured her before looking at the bottle of water that’s condensation was leaking onto his desk.

Cynthia noticed and quickly picked it up and wiped the water off with a napkin and replaced the bottle after putting a coaster down underneath it.

Brian nodded his head, silently thanking her for saving him from another panic attack.  “I am sorry that I spoke to you so harshly.”  Brian said quietly.  “And for getting sick.”  His tan cheeks blushed and he quickly looked away.  Focusing instead on drinking the water.

Cynthia smiled.  After almost twenty five years of knowing the man, and dealing with every thing that was Brian Kinney, she felt oddly humbled that he would still be embarrassed whenever she was around to see him have another ‘episode’.

Cynthia frowned, just realizing why she had needed to talk to Brian.  When he looked at her so calmly, she felt a sense of dread in knowing that he would not remain calm for long.  “Vance came into see me yesterday, well actually to see you.  I tried to call you last night but you didn‘t pick up the phone”

Brian frowned.  “I told him that I had an appointment last week.  I didn‘t feel like talking afterwards, I am sorry I did not return you call.”  Brian said.  “But what did you and he want?”  Brian asked nervously.

After getting out of his therapy session with Doctor McGee, Brian was too emotionally vulnerable to even think about answering the phone the many times that he heard it ring.  He just sat in his bed and watched cartoon network until he drifted to sleep.  He had forgotten about it when he left for work this morning.

“He came to tell you how good the article and photo was that you did on the piece about Justin.”  Cynthia said.

Cynthia watched as Brian once again blushed.  This time he finished the bottle of water before turning back to her.  They had been on a first name basis in reference to Justin Taylor, the artist for the last six years.  Brian had denied any romantic feelings he had toward the young man, but Cynthia knew better.  If Justin Taylor was just any other artist  or performer Brian wrote about, he would have already met the young man face to face.

Which was why Cynthia had talked to Gardener Vance, well, begged him really, to lay off of Brian for not scheduling an interview.  The bald man could never understand what Brian had been through.  He could never fathom how hard it was for Brian to even publish the wonderful things he did write about Justin Taylor.

But Gardener was not in the mood yesterday.  He had insisted that Cynthia contact the artist and arrange an interview for Brian to do for the rest of the week.  It was complete blasphemy to him, a reporter scared to report.  No, he was fed up with it!  He did not care what Brian Kinney’s issues were.  He had catered to the man’s odd requests for too long, he was editor in chief of The Chicago Sun Times, he didn’t have to put up with it.

“I made an appointment with Justin Taylor.  You need to be there in an hour.”  She waited and waited, watching her friends face.  “I can go with you Brian.  It will be fine.”  

Brian looked at her horrified and went back to his desk to grab a paper sack.  Cynthia  stood stock still, not sure what to do.  “Vance threatened to fire you if you do not meet with him Brian.  He will do it!  He told me that if I didn’t make the appointment he would fire you and replace you.  I had to do it!”  Cynthia said, worry evident in her voice as she watched the paper collapse and expand in her friends face.

Brian stopped and looked up at her, tears brimming in his eyes.  “I..I… can’t do it.”  He told his best friend.  

Cynthia came around the desk and kneeled in front of Brian.  He looked like the same scared little boy she had held all through their childhood.  She reached out and drew him into a cradling embrace.  “You can do it Brian.”

Brian let his tears fall.  No, he knew he could not.  Too many thoughts and memories flooded his mind.  Past mixed with visions of what could be.  It was all too confusing.  Justin Taylor was a famous rich artist who would never notice him, like him, and Brian was sure the man would never love him.  Especially if he knew who he was.

Or.  What HE was.  A freak.  An emotional basket case.  A hurt boy trapped inside the body of a man.  No.  Brian knew he would not be able to go on living if he was rejected by Justin.  He could not even take that risk.  It had taken so much out of him to get where he was already, he did not want to go back.

An instant message popped up on Brian’s computer screen.  It read in red bold type.  Do the interview or you can look for another job.- Vance Gardener.

Brian stared at it through teary eyes before deleting the message.

Cynthia stood and looked at Brian.  She wished she could do something to help him.  But, what?  If he would not meet with Justin Taylor, there was not much she could do for his job and if Brian lost that, she was sure he would take a giant leap backwards.