Three’s a Crowd 

Chapter 5


On several occasions, Brian found himself watching Justin as the young man talked with Mark’s associates from the gallery and, as he was doing so now, was totally unaware that Lindsay had approached him.

Brian had previously been standing with the gang and the conversation had been polite and lightweight and Brian could see that Michael was dying to say something, but looks from Debbie and Ben kept his friend’s observations at bay and Brian was glad. He just wasn’t in the mood for any discussion on Mark’s relationship with Justin right now. 

Ted and Emmett had known when it was polite to leave and, having given Brian more support than he could have expected had already left and Brian had moved away from the group and was standing by the windows and turned away from Justin’s direction to look out into the darkness; the winter nights now closing in.

“Brian … I’m sorry I let it out about … well … you know,” stated Lindsay, touching him lightly on the arm. “It’s okay, Lindsay,” said Brian, managing a smile. “It really doesn’t matter … I guessed it would all come out sometime”.

“I can’t imagine what must be more difficult for you,” Lindsay continued, quietly, “the funeral … or Justin being here,” but Brian only shrugged and took another swallow of his drink.

“Why did you bring him here?” she asked him and Lindsay was genuinely curious: curious and concerned at Brian’s motives.

“To be honest, Lindz,” replied Brian, “I’m not really sure now. … I guess… I guess I thought he should have the chance to say goodbye to Mark properly and then today … when I saw him … he looked so lost …” and Brian sighed and for the first time, Lindsay saw the pain in Brian’s eyes as he stared straight out of the window again, but seeing nothing. Right now, Justin wasn’t the only one who looked lost: lost, alone and unsure of what to do next.

“Come on,” said Lindsay, “let’s go home”. “But what about …” “Justin will be fine”, she continued. “He’s not your responsibility,” and Brian closed his eyes briefly before nodding. Yes, it was time to go home and he swallowed the last of his drink and put the glass down on a nearby table. Together, they made their goodbyes to Margaret and Lindsay kissed Melanie and whispered in her ear that she wanted to make sure Brian got home okay and Mel had nodded her understanding. 

Brian said goodbye to the rest of the gang who’d also decided it was now time to go and he managed to avoid getting into any conversation with Michael. He knew his friend would only be looking out for him, but right now he didn’t need to hear what a shit Justin was. And as Brian threw a glance in the blond’s direction; the younger man too engrossed in conversation to see him leave; Brian knew it wasn’t only Justin. It takes two to tango and if anyone was to blame then surely it had to be Mark; he was the one involved heavily with two men. 

And Brian knew he’d had a part to play; after all if he’d given Mark what the man had wanted, then he wouldn’t have needed to go elsewhere.

And now having said goodbye to his partner and watched him being lowered into the ground, Brian also felt he was saying goodbye to any hope he might have had of love; the one thing he’d denied himself for so long and struggled to accept and unlikely to find again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian had left his car at Margaret’s in order to travel to the funeral home in the cortege and insisted on driving back to the loft, even though Lindsay could see the turmoil that was going on inside him.

Getting home, Brian took off his heavy winter coat and suit jacket and loosened his tie and then he headed straight for the bottle of beam. “You want anything?” he asked Lindsay, but she shook her head as she took off her coat. One of them was going to have to remain sober and somehow she didn’t think that was going to be Brian and he demonstrated that fact by pouring himself a large one, which he downed in one swallow.

“Go easy with that, Brian,” cautioned Lindsay, taking a seat on the sofa. “Who are you … my Mother?” he came right back at her and pouring himself another and then Brian immediately regretted his tone and he sighed and went to sit beside her.

“What the fuck was I doing, Lindsay … even thinking I could settle down with just one man …”

“It wasn’t you, Brian”, assured Lindsay. “You gave it your best shot … Mark knew what he was getting in to … he knew who you were right from the start. It was Mark who screwed up … you shouldn’t blame yourself”, and Brian tried to smile. Lindsay was doing her best at trying to get him to see how it really was, but Brian had convinced himself that the blame must lay partly with him at least. 

Obviously he hadn’t been enough; the man had needed more and had found what he was looking for in Justin.

Brian sighed. “You don’t have to babysit me, Lindz … go home to your wife and our son … please … I’d rather be on my own in any case …”

“Are you sure?” asked Lindsay and Brian nodded. “I’ve got plenty of work I need to be catching up with … I’ve got behind with everything … so you go … I’ll be fine” and he took another swallow from his glass.

Lindsay looked at him and, not for the first time, started to worry as she watched him take the drink and saw the mask he was now wearing; the one he’d always used so skilfully to disguise how he was really feeling. 

But that wasn’t the only thing that Brian was now hiding behind and Lindsay’s heart sank. There they were; no mistaking them; the barriers were coming down again.

For most of his life, up until he’d met Mark at least, no one could get passed the walls that Brian put up around himself; a shield to keep out anything and everyone who might make him feel. A few trusted friends had been allowed, on rare occasions, to see the real Brian Kinney, but no one had ever been successful in penetrating the force field that repelled all who dared to try and get close enough to have a relationship that was more than friendship.

As a defence mechanism against pain, the barriers had worked pretty damn well, but they’d also kept out love; the philosophy being that something can’t hurt you when it goes if you’ve never let it in to begin with; what you haven’t got you’ll never miss.

“You know where I am if you need me,” Lindsay said softly and even though she hated leaving him like this, she knew Brian didn’t want anyone around him at the moment; Anyone who might happen to catch a glimpse of weakness in the armour and Brian nodded and Lindsay kissed him lightly on the cheek before she rose from the sofa, collecting her coat and closing the door to the loft behind her.

Brian closed his eyes: suddenly feeling very tired and the last thing he could actually concentrate on now was work. No: the bottle of beam was the only thing that deserved his undivided attention.

With everything that had happened before Mark’s funeral; the shock following the accident and dealing with Mark’s death; the arrangements and then the funeral itself and on top of everything the discovery of Mark’s involvement with another man: with so much happening, Brian had felt at least that there was still something to hang on to; something that was keeping him afloat. But now that everything that needed to be done had been and Mark was laid to rest, there was nothing more left to cling to and Brian felt as if he’d been cut adrift with no knowledge of the direction in which he was heading.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midday the day after the funeral and the noise just wouldn’t stop, but eventually, it permeated through Brian’s unconscious state until he came fully awake; someone was banging on the door and they weren’t giving up.

He groaned and, getting up from the bed where he’d collapsed the night before and still dressed apart from his shoes and socks, he kicked the empty bottle of beam; sending it spinning and then Brian staggered across the polished wooden floor and slid open the door.

“Finally … what if there’d been a fire?” pointed out Debbie and she marched passed him and into the loft.

“Debbie … what are you doing here?” asked Brian, still trying to bring everything back into focus.

“Well, someone’s got to keep you fed,” she answered him, “because I doubt that you’re bothering …” and she held out before her the casserole dish.

“Tuna and macaroni … it was your favourite when you were a kid.”

“No it wasn’t,” replied Brian and he rubbed his temple and wished the pounding in his head would stop.

“Don’t argue with me … you fucking loved it,” insisted Debbie and Brian gave in to the path of least resistance; he didn’t have the strength or the will to argue with her.

“You want me to heat it up for you now?” asked Debbie, moving into the kitchen and Brian’s stomach churned; food was the last thing he could face right this minute and carefully, he shook his head.

“Maybe later,” he answered her and Debbie frowned and placed the dish in the refrigerator. “Don’t forget it,” she instructed him and Brian nodded.

Brian started to turn towards the door, expecting Debbie to leave, but instead she reached for the coffee pot. “You go and get yourself cleaned up and I’ll put the coffee on … you look like you could use it … oh and close the door … it’s colder than a witch’s tit out there today” she instructed and before Brian could protest, Debbie filled the jug with water and found the fresh coffee.

Brian inwardly sighed, knowing it was no use. Short of bodily throwing her out of the loft, he knew he wasn’t going to get rid of Debbie that easy and he slid the door closed and made his way to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quick shower and fresh change of clothes later, Brian emerged from the bedroom ready to face Debbie and she passed him a steaming cup of coffee and went to sit on the sofa; Brian took a sip of the hot liquid before following her. A ‘Debbie’ conversation wasn’t something he was really looking forward to right now, but that was obviously her intention and it looked like she wasn’t going to give up, so he might just as well get it over with.

Never one to let a person wallow in self-pity, Debbie had got a pretty good idea what was going on following a telephone conversation she’d had late the previous night with Lindsay, after Lindz had left Brian and gone back home; the upshot being that Brian obviously blamed himself for the demise in his and Mark’s relationship to a point where the man had looked elsewhere and she wasn’t about to let Brian retreat and take refuge behind the barricades again. 

“Can we get this over with?” asked Brian and Debbie looked at him and smiled. “I guessed you’d know the other reason why I came over and don’t think I’m going to let you off the hook just because of what you’re going through” she continued and she put her cup down on the coffee table and turned to face him.

“You’re blaming yourself for the fact that Mark took up with Justin … that you think it’s your fault … that maybe you weren’t enough for him. But let me tell you right now … that’s bullshit”. 

“Is it?” replied Brian. “If I’d been able to love Mark … like he’d wanted … he wouldn’t have gone elsewhere for what I couldn’t give him … “

“Christ, Brian, “ continued Debbie; cutting him off, “You’d be enough for any man … surely you know that much at least. I mean … look at you … you’re successful … you’ve worked hard and have a good job and bring home a damn good salary … and you have a terrific home.”

“You’ve got … well … style. That and you don’t scrub up half bad …” and she winked at him and Brian managed a smile; a smile that suddenly disappeared and he looked down into his cup.

Reaching out, Debbie put her hand under his chin and tilted his head up to face her. “Whatever it was that brought Mark and Justin together … it wasn’t down to you” Debbie said quietly and she saw how the tears welled up in Brian’s eyes.

“You’ve got spirit … guts,” continued Debbie, “and most guys wouldn’t be able to keep up with you … let alone have time … or the stamina for someone else,” she chuckled. “If Mark went looking for something more … well … it’s because he didn’t appreciate what he had when he found you.”

Brian had fought but eventually lost the struggle to keep the tears at bay and, putting down his coffee cup, he lent forward to hug the woman that had been more of a Mother to him since he was aged 14 than his own had ever been and he dearly wanted to maintain this contact, but how he hated her seeing his tears. 

“Thanks Mom,” whispered Brian, pulling back to look at her and Debbie smiled. “I just want both my boys to be happy,” she answered him; cupping his face in her hand and Brian let out a little gasp. There it was again, Debbie’s commitment to him in referring to him as a son just like her own. And then Brian slid down the sofa so that he now lay on his side with his head in her lap and Debbie could feel his trembling, but didn’t have to witness the tears.

“I know how hard it was for you to hear Mark tell you he loved you,” stated Debbie quietly and stroking Brian’s hair. “And I understand that you think you don’t really know what love is. Jesus, growing up with Jack and Joan …” and Debbie bit her lip; Brian didn’t really need to be reminded of how little love there was in the Kinney household when he was a kid; he’d had the bruises to do that.

“I guess I just don’t know how to give …” whispered Brian; a thought that he’d said out loud before he caught himself and Debbie’s heart went out to him; this grown man who was still such a little boy inside; a little boy who didn’t understand his worth and who’d ached for praise and affection and yes, damn it, even approval, although he’d never admit it; from his own parents. After all, isn’t that what unconditional love is supposed to mean? And in denying Brian such basic rights, Jack and Joan had also denied him the ability to both give and receive the most fundamental right of all: love.

“Yes you do,” corrected Debbie. “Though I have to admit … you scare me sometimes … ‘cos it seems like you end up doing the right thing but for the wrong reasons. Still … I guess you get there in the end”.

“Because … and I know you probably won’t want to believe me when I tell you this … but I know that under that no-apologies-no-regrets bull, there beats the heart of a man who’s every bit as decent and loving as the next … that you just don’t like people to know it … in case it gets thrown back in your face …”

“Like it did with Mark …” interrupted Brian; his voice shaking. “And I know how much that hurts,” continued Debbie.

“Justin’s very different to you and it is possible to love people for different reasons. Mark probably loved you both and didn’t want to let either of you go …”

“Don’t make excuses, Debbie,” said Brian, sniffing back the tears. “If I gave Mark everything he needed it wouldn’t have mattered if Justin came on the scene.”

“It’s me … it has to be. What the fuck was I thinking … believing that’s what I wanted …”

“Because,” replied Debbie, “deep down it’s what everyone wants … love … to not be alone in the middle of the night … having someone to share things with … the good and the bad. We all need someone there for us, Brian … even you,” said Debbie and how she wished he’d believe her words.

“And there will be someone … I know there will,” she continued. “There’s a guy out there that you’ll fall in love with and will love you back with all his heart. Don’t give up hope …”

“Well, I won’t hold my breath,” stated Brian; pulling himself together and still not entirely convinced, but maybe Debbie’s words did bring comfort and a little hope, but Brian wasn’t sure he had the courage to go through this again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t just the cramping that came on after he’d been drawing so long that hampered Justin. The apartment was so cold, he could hardly feel the pencil after a few minutes and besides, he knew he had to go back into work. He was desperately short of money and at least the diner was warm. 

In the end, Justin was forced to go back to work, despite dreading running into Brian and he arrived early; turning up for his shift way before time and as the breakfast rush hadn’t yet turned into the lunchtime rush, he was able to sit in the corner booth and continue with his drawing; he still had this one to complete before the art show where he hoped he might be fortunate to make a sale.

Going back to Mark’s sister’s: after Brian wore him down, saying he needed to say goodbye to Mark properly and be a part of the ritual had, he realised, been the best thing. Brian had been right; he’d needed to do it. 

Brian hadn’t seen him, but Justin had arrived at the cemetery in good time to witness the small service that laid Mark finally to rest, but the man’s generosity in insisting he return with him to the house had astounded him; Justin didn’t think he’d be so accommodating if the circumstances had been reversed and he was sorry Brian had left before he’d had a chance to thank him properly.

Now, working on his drawing, he was so engrossed in what he was doing he failed to notice the man come into the diner for a quick coffee on his way from a meeting with a potential client before returning to the office.

Brian noticed the blond in the corner booth: head down and concentrating on whatever he was doing and occasionally rubbing his hand and he ordered his coffee and sat down on the stool at the counter.

“How long’s he been back?” Brian asked Debbie quietly as he picked up his cup and he indicated Justin. Neither of them had mentioned their conversation back at the loft the day after Mark’s funeral and Brian knew confidently that Debbie would never repeat what had passed between them.

“Started back today … got in early so he could work on his picture,” replied Debbie. “Poor kid … said something about his place being so cold …” “Yeah … it is,” agreed Brian and he got up off his stool and moved towards the young man.

Justin became gradually aware of someone standing over him and then Brian spoke. “You’re good … damn good” and he slid in the booth opposite him.

“Thanks,” said Justin quietly and he flexed his fingers as his hand begun to shake, but Justin wasn’t sure whether it was the cramping that made his hand shake or Brian’s presence.

“Why aren’t you at art school?” Brian asked him and Justin put down his pencil and sighed. “I’d never be able to keep up … not now … it just takes me too long …”

“That’s a pity,” answered Brian. “You’ve obviously got talent … shame to see it go to waste”

“Anyway,” continued Justin. “It takes money and … well … I haven’t had any contact with my parents for months. Not since my Dad told me that in order to live in his house I would have to give up my disgusting lifestyle and that he wouldn’t pay for me to go to PIFA … he wants me to do a business degree …” and Justin looked at his watch and then started to tidy up the table ready to start his shift.

Justin had shrugged when he’d spoken the words and tried to make light of them, but Brian had seen the obvious sadness in his face when he spoke of his parents and their attitude to his sexuality; being apart from them had obviously upset the young man very much despite of their feelings towards him.

“Well, that’s not love,” stated Brian, “that’s hate … trying to make you into something you’re not … denying who you really are”.

Justin hesitated for a moment and then asked, “when did you tell your parents … that you were gay I mean?” and Brian took a deep breath and lent back in his seat.

“Well, it was actually only a few years ago. I told my Dad … just after he told me he was dying of cancer. His reaction was that … that it should have been me dying not him. And my dear, loving Mother found out when she came to the loft and found me with a guy … and told me I was going to hell …”

“Jesus” stated Justin, unable to disguise the shock he felt, both at the callousness of Brian’s parents and the honesty with which Brian spoke. Suddenly, realising what he’d divulged so easily, Brian looked away from the younger man’s gaze and wondered what the hell had prompted him to come right out and tell him things that he never liked to discuss with the people who’d known him since he was a kid.

Watching Brian’s face as he’d realised what he told him, Justin felt the man was closing down; withdrawing from him and he was desperate for Brian not to feel uncomfortable and Justin tried to change the subject; wanting him to know how grateful he was.

“I never got the chance to thank you … for making me go back to the house after the funeral. You were right … I needed to be a part of things … it … it made it easier to say goodbye …” “Even though you weren’t able to tell everyone what you’d meant to Mark?” asked Brian and Justin shrugged. “Well, that’s just it … I’m not sure any more … I mean … I know what he told me …” and Justin stopped himself from going any further. 

“It’s okay … you can say it. Mark told you he loved you … right?” asked Brian and Justin nodded. “Yeah … well … he told me the same thing … so I guess that puts us in the same boat” continued Brian.

“I’m sorry,” said Justin quietly: seeing the pain Brian was struggling to conceal, but Brian shook his head. “Don’t worry about it … it doesn’t matter any more” he said flatly, but something told Justin it mattered so much more than the older man was willing to let on.

“Justin, honey …” called Debbie, and tapping her watch. “Just finishing up” replied Justin and he tidied up his work and then put it safely under the counter and put on his apron, ready to start his shift.

Getting up from the booth, Brian went over and took a swig of cold coffee from the cup he’d left on the counter and he left without saying another word.

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Brian couldn’t explain it, but Justin’s struggle; merely to survive had touched him more than he could ever have imagined. He remembered reading about the kid who’d been bashed, but had dismissed it as something tragic that should never have happened and at the time something that hadn’t affected him personally and there was so many more important things to think about; like; when was he next going to get laid.

But having met the young man and watched how he persevered with his art, leaving home and the support of his family who tried to make him into something he wasn’t and struggling to keep a roof over his head; well Brian could relate to that. His parents had never supported him. True, they hadn’t known he was gay until he was almost thirty, but even without that revelation he’d never got a dime’s worth of support from his old man. It was a soccer scholarship that got him into Carnegie-Melon and then damned hard work, and not a little flair, that had got Brian this far and with a partnership in the agency in the offing.

He knew he didn’t owe Justin anything and some people would have said he was out of his mind to even be thinking about looking out for him, but for some strange reason, that’s exactly how Brian felt; that maybe he was doing what Mark should have been all along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deciding to walk back to the office after a meeting instead of taking a cab, Brian noticed several works of art, of all descriptions, on show in the storefronts of various businesses along Liberty Avenue as he returned to work.

Having reached “Torso”, Brian stopped to admire the drawings in the window and read the name and smiled; it was Justin’s work and, before he’d really had time to think what he was doing, Brian entered the store; the first of two visits he was to make that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day that Justin had arranged to be on hand in “Torso” to answer any enquiries about his work had arrived, but, as he opened the door, he was puzzled why his pictures were no longer in the window.

“Em … where are my drawings? Have you moved them?” asked Justin, as Emmett was putting some newly delivered stock out onto the racks. “Mmm?” came the answer. “My work …” repeated Justin, now somewhat concerned. “What happened to them?”

“Oh … your pictures you mean?” asked Emmett and Justin nodded. “They were sold.”

“Sold?” repeated Justin, “But I hadn’t even decided on a price … and who would want to buy all three?”

“Beats me sugar”, replied Emmett, rather absentmindedly, but then he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “Oh … he left you this,” and he handed Justin an envelope. “Who did?” asked the blond and Emmett tilted his head to one side. “Let me see … it was a guy … sort of old … short … fat … and balding” came the reply and totally shocked, Justin opened the envelope and took out what was inside.

“It’s a banker’s check … for … Jesus …” and Emmett looked over the young man’s shoulder and let out a low whistle. “Well, he sure liked your pictures. What are you going to do with all that cash?” but Justin just shook his head, unable to take in his good fortune.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning up for his shift, Debbie couldn’t help but see the bounce in Justin’s step as he and Emmett entered the diner. Justin, with time on his hands now he had sold his drawings, had helped Em put out the last of the delivery and Em had even persuaded Justin to purchase a nice new blue shirt now he’d come into not an inconsiderable sum of money; something Justin hadn’t been able to do in a long time since he’d had so little cash coming in.

Brian had come in a little earlier and was sitting at a booth with Michael and Ben. To say Brian and Michael had exchanged words would be putting it mildly. Brian had let it be known that under no circumstances was Justin to be blamed for what Mark had done and that if he, Brian, bore him no malice, then Michael had no right to either. Michael hadn’t liked it, but the way Ben looked at him told Michael he had no choice but to accept his friend’s decision. 

“There goes that sunshine smile again,” stated Debbie as Justin came back after washing up before starting his shift. “I sold my drawings” beamed the blond. “Honey, that’s terrific news … did you hear that everyone … Justin sold his work” said Debbie, addressing the group and Emmett slid into the booth beside Brian.

“Yes and for a handsome sum too” added Emmett, picking up the menu. “Who bought them?” asked Ben as Justin brought over the coffee pot. 

“Well … that’s the strangest thing …” replied Justin. “I don’t know … he paid by banker’s check”.

“What did he look like?” asked Ben, addressing both Emmett and Justin and holding out his cup for Justin to fill. “An old guy … short … fat … and balding” replied Justin and Brian turned to look at Emmett who smiled back at him widely. 

“I’ll get you back for that” whispered Brian in Em’s ear once Justin was out of range, but Emmett tilted his head and just kept on grinning.


To be continued.