Slamming the door shut behind him, Justin begins to pace. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Brushing his hair back with his fingers, he tries to calm himself down by taking a few deep breaths. Just calm down… it’s over… it’s over now. Fuck! How could Brian do that? Yet again, pitiful me needed big-strong Brian to save the damn day…again! “Argh!” Storming into his bedroom, he slams that door shut behind him as well. He didn’t care if Adrienne would be mad at him for making so much noise at this time of night, he didn’t care that he was acting like a child at this moment. He just didn’t fuckin’ care.

That’s just great… I could’ve handled it… I didn’t need him to SAVE him like he always SAVES me… I could have managed…right? Shit, how should I know? How can I ever know? Brian with his holier-than-thou act… fuck him! How could he do that to me? I could have handled it! I could have, I know I could have!! And now Ethan probably thinks…what? What does he think? And why do I care what he thinks? Fuming, Justin forces himself to sit down on the edge of the bed. His knees kept shaking. Exhaling slowly, he turns towards the phone. I want to go out. I can’t stay here. I can’t… I’ll fuckin’ break something if I stay here.

Closing his eyes, he can still feel Ethan’s hands on his face. Shuddering, he shakes the thought away and picks up the phone. He knows that Travis is in Los Angeles and that Emmett is home alone. I can treat him to a movie tonight. I’m sure he’s up… he’s a night owl. He’ll be up.

Luckily, Justin is right. After the third ring Emmett picks up the phone, “Hello?”

Justin smiles, “Hi, Emmett, it’s me, Justin. How are you doing?”

“Justin! Hey, sweetie, how’ve you been? Everything okay?”

Justin can feel his cheeks grow hot. Oh yeah, Emmett, I was nearly raped by my psycho ex-boyfriend… but then my other ex suddenly appeared and saved the fuckin’ day like some fucked up after-school special. “Everything is fine. How about you? I’m not calling too late, am I?”

“Not at all! I actually just got off the phone with Travis a few minutes ago. He promised to be here for Thanksgiving.”

“Really?” Justin smiles. “That’s great.”

Emmett agrees, “It most certainly is.”

Justin bites his lip, “Um, I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Wanna go catch a movie or something?”

“Oooh, like what?” Emmett asks.

Sighing, Justin leans back on the bed, “Something cheesy that requires no thinking whatsoever and might possibly drop your IQ level.”

Emmett laughs, “Rough day?”

Rubbing his eyes, Justin forces a smile, “Yeah, it’s been pretty shitty.”

“Well, then, how about instead of watching a really lame movie, we go out and dance the night away?”

Chuckling, Justin replies, “It’s Tuesday. What club is open on a Tuesday?”

“Honey, you have no idea.” Laughing, he continues, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Smiling, Justin nods, “Okay, I’ll be here.”

After hanging up the phone, Justin glances over at his closet. Dancing… I haven’t gone out dancing for awhile… Sitting up, he realizes, “Shit! What am I going to wear?” Laughing to himself, Justin hurries to his closet to find something he can wear tonight. Maybe black? You can't go wrong with black... hmmm..no, maybe something blue?...or white?...something that attracts attention. Wait, do I want attention? Frowning, he isn't sure. But wait, why the hell not? I need an escape...and Emmett is right, dancing the night away IS much better than wasting money on a really dumb movie that you would never admit to anyone you saw... He stops mid-thought when he spots the perfect shirt. Perfect.

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

Brian slowly brought the bottle of Jim Beam to his lips, holding the liquid in his mouth for a few moments before swallowing it down and feeling the burn at the back of his throat. Legs stretched out across the bed, head propped up by pillows and one bent arm behind his head, Brian took another swig of his drink, wanting to disappear in the numbing feeling the alcohol was supposed to be giving him.

He couldn't understand what he did wrong. I thought Justin would be happy... a fuckin' thank you at least...fuck... It was a no-win battle. Closing his eyes, he listens to the silence of the loft. I need him. "Fuck," he mutters loudly, "Get real, Kinney. Wake up, and get fuckin' real." Sitting up, he puts the bottle down on his night table and looks around. Empty. Not only did his loft feel empty, but he felt empty inside as well. The worst part about it though, was that he knew what he needed to fill that void inside of him, but he couldn't do it. Can't or won't?... It was hard to separate the two at times.

Standing up, he walks out of the bedroom, stopping by the empty spot where Justin's easel once stood. He felt as if an invisible force was slowly choking him. Sitting down, he takes a deep, shaky breath. Maybe I should call him? Rubbing his tired eyes, he wonders when it all began. When did I let him get under my skin like this again? How did this happen?... WHY is this happening? I'm Brian Kinney, I don't need anyone. I don't fuckin' need anyone in my life...I don't want-- He stops himself-- Yes I do. I DO want. He wanted Justin. Not just as someone to fuck, but as someone to be there. He laughs sadly. This is so fucked up. Finally he realized what he wanted and now it was too late. Justin was furious at him. But why? Replaying the words that Justin shouted at him over and over again in his mind, it still made no sense.

He needed another drink. Sighing, he heads over to the kitchen. I saved his life, why is he so fuckin' pissed off at me for it? Ungrateful little shit. Shaking his head, he smiles. MY ungrateful little shit. It felt good to say that. Mine. But to have someone meant that he would have to be someone's as well. Mine, yours. This was a concept that Brian found too hard to digest.

Returning to the sofa, Brian forgets about his drink and pulls out the photo album in the drawer by the couch. He lightly strokes the cover with his fingers before opening the album. He had kept very few pictures from his past, but some remained in this book. One was of Mikey and him in high school; another was of Lindsay in college. The rest were more recent photos dating back from the time Gus was born. Turning each page, Brian remembered the feeling he had had at each moment a photo was taken. He stops at a picture of Justin. It was taken at Michael's birthday party. The night he outed Mikey out to his co-worker. Smiling, Brian remembers how angry everyone was at Brian's actions that night. Everyone except Justin. He had no fuckin' idea WHY I did what I did, but he trusted me enough to know that I felt it was the right thing to do. He fuckin' trusted me. He forces a smile as he looks down at the picture: Justin is grinning widely, slightly blushing, as he looks in the direction of Lindsay's camera while Emmett is whispering something into Justin's ear.

Brian had meant to ask Justin what Emmett had said to cause him to blush and smile like that. I just never got around to it. The tears burn in his eyes, yet Brian refuses to let them fall. He knew he had taken Justin for granted, and now he was paying the price. Returning to the photo, he remembers how hurt Michael was that night, how betrayed he felt. Mikey didn't understand that Brian was doing it for his own good. But Justin managed to bring us back together... He laughs loudly, "Fuck, I must be drunk." I sound like some fuckin' sap...fuck, when did I get sentimental? He laughs harder, shaking his head. I'm losing my fuckin' mind. But instead of putting the album away, Brian turns the page. Pictures of Gus adorn the pages: Gus with Brian, Gus with Lindsay, Gus asleep in his crib. "Hey, Sonny-boy," he whispers softly. The one thing that Brian was proud of in his life was his son. I have the best kid in the whole fuckin' world. Still smiling, he turns the page once again.

Photos from Gus' first birthday party. His eyes skim the photos of Lindsay holding Gus in his lap. Another photo of Michael and Deb by the swing. There were no photos of Justin. Shuddering, he remembers the look of sheer terror he saw in Justin's eyes that day. Fuckin' Hobbs. He hated him. He hated Chris Hobbs for what he took away from Justin. But Justin got it back. He wouldn't let Hobbs win. No fuckin' way. Justin's a fighter. A survivor. Swallowing hard, he looks away for a moment. Wishing that Justin knew how much respect Brian had for him. Too late now, Kinney. It's too fuckin' late. He rubs his temples. Why is too fuckin' late?...I'm Brian Kinney. If I want something, I get it...but this isn't SOMETHING...it's someONE. Putting the album on the table, he returns to the kitchen for his drink. Who the fuck ever said that life was fair. Frowning, he remembers saying that once before. Once many years ago.

Glancing over at the photo album, he is about to casually discard it on the floor, when he stops himself. Sighing, he looks back down at it and carefully places it back in the drawer before closing it shut. Fuck, Kinney, what are you doing? What in the fuck are you doing? He gulps down his drink, finishing the glass. Playing back Ahmed's words in his mind, Brian began to wonder, Is that what I'm doing?...of course fuckin' not. This is my life, not Ahmed's. I'm who I am because of me, not anyone else. My life, my fuck ups... The cowery shell braclet on his wrist suddenly begins to feel tight against his skin. He nervously pulls at the string, feeling it press against the back of his wrist, nearly cutting past his skin and into his veins. The pain felt good: it reminded him, kept him alive...or least made him feel alive.

Staring at the bracelet, Brian wonders what Justin meant by that. I'm not being held back...fuck, well...no, I'm not. No, I chose this, it didn't choose me. There's a difference. He remembers the hurt look on Justin's face the night before the Rage party.

Fuck. Brian knew how those words hurt Justin. I had to. I fuckin' had to. I wasn't going to change for him. No fuckin' way was I going to change for anybody.

Justin laughs harder, "Yes it was! My God, Emmett, where did you find that place?"

Emmett smiles, "Ted took me there once. Believe me, it was never that bad," he shudders, "I can't believe what some of them were actually wearing. I mean, how could anyone go out in public wearing that?"

Justin sits down in the passenger seat, teasing, "Not everyone is blessed with your sense of style, Emmett."

Emmett laughs, "Obviously not!"

Smiling, Justin looks out the window, shaking his head in disbelief at the kind of club Emmett had taken him to. Emmett starts the car and they begin to drive off.

"So where to now, Justin?"

Justin glances over at him, "You're not tired?"

He scoffs, "Me? Justin, the night is young and so am I."

He chuckles softly, "Sure, I'm game." He really didn't want to return home anyway.

Smiling, Emmett pulls into a nearby diner. "Hungry?"

Justin grins, "At one in the morning? Of course I am!"

Emmett parks the car and the two men walk inside the diner and sit down at a booth. Justin scans the room. The place was nearly empty except for them and another man sitting at the opposite side of the diner talking to the waitress, who was obviously his girlfriend. After a quick kiss, she walks over to Emmett and Justin's table, asking, "What can I get for you?"

Justin smiles, "Fries and a Sprite."

Emmett arches his eyebrow, "Fries? At one in the morning? You're braver than I am."

Justin grins, "That's the best time for them."

He laughs, "For you maybe." Turning back to the waitress he replies, "I'll have the soup and a club soda."

Once the waitress leaves, Emmett asks, "So are you going to talk to him?"

Justin knows he's referring to Brian. "Why?" he asks, pretending not care.

Emmett sees right through Justin's mask, "Because he means more to you than you want to admit right now."

Justin laughs coldly, "Maybe that's because he's an asshole."

Emmett smiles, "Well of course he's an asshole, Justin! He's Brian Kinney."

Justin sighs, "That's the whole point, Em. 'Brian is an asshole because he's Brian' isn't a good enough reason for me anymore."

Emmett is about to say something, but stops when the waitress returns with their drinks. Once she leaves, Emmett continues, "Everyone knew that Brian cared about you."

Justin rolls his eyes, "If fuckin' nameless tricks in the backroom and baths means 'caring,' then I can live without it."

Emmett smiles sympathetically, changing the topic, "So how are you doing?"

He shrugs, "Fine."

"You must have been scared out of your mind when you saw Ethan today."

He nods, sipping his drink.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

Justin shakes his head, "No, I think Brian saved the fuckin' day again. No, Ethan won't be around... I'm sure Brian has already shipped him off to Siberia or something."

Emmett listens silently as his friend vents.

"I mean, fuck, Emmett, what gives Brian the right to do shit like that?"

"You mean you weren't happy to see him there?"

He frowns, "Yes and no."

Emmett nods, taking a sip of his own drink.

"At first I was relieved, but then...," he sighs, "Then Brian had to be all macho and shit...I didn't need a hero...back up, yes. A fuckin' hero, no."

Emmett nods, "Well I can understand that. But I don't think Brian was thinking about that when he saw you and Ethan."

"That's the whole point! He wasn't thinking! He never thinks about the consequences of his actions! Never! And why? Because he is the great Brian Kinney... why the fuck should he care about what anyone else thinks?!"

The waitress returns, pretending to have not noticed Justin's loud outburst as she puts down his plate of fries and Emmett's bowl of soup on the table. Emmett forces a smile, thanking her as she leaves.

Justin leans back against the seat, "And I don't care if I'm overreacting."

Emmett stirs the soup with his spoon, not saying a word.

"You think I'm overreacting, don't you?"

"I'm not saying a word, Justin."

Pursing his lips together, he shifts in his seat, "I don't care. I'm mad."

"Then be mad."

"Thank you." Straightening up, he takes a fry and pops it into his mouth.

"So are you going to at least call him?"

"Nope."

Emmett is surprised, "No?" Then smiling, he figures it out, "You're going to wait for him to call you?"

"IF he calls me."

Chuckling, Emmett whispers, "Between me and you: I think he will."

Justin brightens, "You think so?"

Emmett brings the spoon to his lips, "Just my humble opinion, of course."

Justin takes another fry, "Well I'm done doing the chasing, especially now. If he has something to say to me, he can find me and say it to my face. I'm not going to search all of fuckin' Pittsburgh for him. No way."

"Well good for you, sweetie."

Justin looks down at his plate for a moment, then back up at Emmett, "I know I probably acted like such a fuckin' drama queen, but Brian knows how I hate being saved." He shudders, remembering all the times when Brian would constantly help him. If it wasn't one thing it was another. "I can handle things on my own. I'm not a kid anymore."

Emmett nods, "I know, everyone knows. But sometimes it's hard to take a step back, Justin. Especially if you really care about a person more than you want to admit."

Justin looks down, letting Emmett's words sink in. Quietly he whispers, "Maybe."

Emmett says nothing.