"The End of 'The Evil Stream'" 11
Pillow talk continued.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh
Ron didn't know how to respond to Brian's outburst. He had never
imagined that Brian had a son or that his emotional life had been
so ravaged. That he and his boyfriend had had such a contentious
relationship that had ended with Brian embittered and feeling
totally abandoned.
Ben had never bothered to mention those things when he told Ron
that he wanted him to come to dinner to meet someone he might
find very interesting. "He's Michael's best friend. He went through
a bad breakup a while ago and needs some cheering up," was all Ben
had said. And since Ron was at loose ends while he was in Pittsburgh,
he'd agreed. Little did he suspect how his life was about to change.
"That's a lot to take, Brian," Ron empathized. "I'm sorry about your
son. Can't you visit him and let him know how you feel?"
"I just did not long ago," said Brian. "But it's fucking awkward. It's
obvious that Lindsay and Mel want as much of my money as they can
get. But me? They'd rather leave me than take me. Even Lindsay feels
that way now and she used to be one of my best friends. It's pretty
clear that Gus is going to grow up and I'll be some fucking stranger
who shows up from time to time with expensive presents. Some guy
he only knows from the stories he's heard from Melanie -- all bad
stories."
"I'm sure your son loves you, Brian," said Ron. "He can stay in
touch with you, even if he's in Canada."
Brian snorted. "Maybe Gus won't want stay in touch! But it's probably
just as well. If I'm far away, then I can't do my son any harm," he
stated flatly. "The same with my lover. He seems to be the happiest
when he's in a different state. I think he likes the IDEA of me a lot
more than he likes the reality of me."
Ron was troubled to hear this. Brian seemed very down on himself.
He was a beautiful and highly successful man, but it was as if none
of that mattered. He was an emotional failure and that negated
everything else he had accomplished.
"Maybe it wasn't meant to be with this young man. These things
happen. Relationships are tricky things." I ought to know, thought
Ron. I've never been able to manage one for long. I thought I could
make it work with Dorian, but even that fell apart eventually.
Probably because my heart was still buried with a boy I never
thought I'd see again. "Perhaps this Justin simply wasn't ready to
make a serious commitment?"
"Justin," Brian breathed, as if it hurt him to say the name aloud.
"A commitment? Fuck! That's what he always said he wanted. And
that's what I tried to give him. Maybe it was too little, too late, but
at least I tried! And he fucking claimed he loved me! From the first
night we were together! Yet he hurt me more than my goddamn father,
or my bitch of a mother, or all of the creeps who used me and then
threw me away when I was living on the street. Hurt me more than
all of the tricks and johns and well-meaning friends and would-be
lovers put together. Because in the end I didn't give a shit about any
of them. So they couldn't touch me where it counted. They couldn't
reach that place I always kept only for myself. Until Justin. I let
him in there. Let him live there and make a home there. He was the
only person who I ever let get inside me like that. But he exploded
it. And now there's nothing left. Just a big, empty space. And that's
all."
"I don't believe that," Ron asserted. "I don't believe you're empty
inside, Brian. Because your face isn't empty. The way you move isn't
empty. You wouldn't feel anything at all if your heart had exploded.
What you're feeling now, as painful as it is, tells me that you can
feel that same love again. Someday."
"No!" Brian almost shouted it. "Never again! I can't fucking let it
happen again! I can't take him back. I... I can't."
"I didn't mean him, Brian," said Ron, gently. "I meant someone else.
Someone who loved you a long time ago. Someone who wants to try
to love you again. Not the way you were when you were 16, but the
way you are now. The man you are now."
"That's fucking impossible," Brian said dismissively. "Don't even
go there, Ron."
"I don't think it's impossible," Ron returned. "Nothing is impossible.
Look at how far we've both come in our lives. Who would ever have
guessed? I never imagined that someone who I thought was lost to
me forever would come back from the dead, so to speak. Therefore,
I have to believe it's for a purpose that we were brought together
again."
"Yeah," huffed Brian. "For the satisfaction of Ben and Mikey
Novotny-Bruckner, Queer Matchmakers Extraordinaire!"
"Possibly," Ron admitted. "But I don't really give a damn how it
happened. Because it has happened. And I don't want it to end here."
Brian shook his head. Ron had always been a dreamer. Big dreams,
big plans. And some of them had come true for him. But this? It
was too beyond the pale. And Brian's heart was too damaged. He
could never take that risk again.
"I don't believe in miracles, Ron. And I don't believe in fate. Or
fairy tales -- unless it's a fairy tail that I'm fucking!" Brian
laughed. But the laughter didn't last. "The truth is that you're
going back to the Hollywood whirl as soon as this film shindig at
the university is over. And I'm going back to my life of endless
dissipation and promiscuity. Maybe you can e-mail me whenever
you get lonely. Or better yet -- send me some prime L.A. porn."
"I have an even better idea, Brian," Ron countered. "Come with
me to Los Angeles. Come for a week. That's all I ask. Ben says that
you have a booming ad agency and I know you must be busy, but
surely you could take a short break for the Holidays? To have
some fun in La La Land. To check out the scene. And to get to know
me again, too. I have a great life there. I have a nice house in
Beverly Hills and good friends and I'm successful doing something
I love -- directing. I'm a different person than I was when I was
a confused 25 year old. And it's very apparent that you're a
different person, too, Brian. It would be a new start for both of
us. And I think you could use a new start. If it doesn't work out,
then we'll shake hands and let it go. If it's over, it's over. No
regrets, okay?"
Brian smiled at Ron. The joint was out and it was almost dawn.
The only thing left to do was go to sleep -- or have another fuck.
"No regrets? Jesus, Ron! That's my fucking line!"
"Then put it to good use, Brian," Ron urged. "If you stay here,
sitting alone and thinking about what you've lost, you're going
to drive yourself crazy. Believe me -- I know." Ron paused. "I've
been there. After... after you left. When I thought you were dead.
I thought I'd lose my goddamn mind. What saved me was my work.
My films. I focused on them and excluded almost everything else.
And I've been a success. But now I want more. I need more in my
life. And I think you do, too."
"But you don't know me, Ron," Brian replied. "And I don't know
you. Not really. All we know is some old memory that probably
isn't even true."
"Then let's find out, Brian," said Ron. "Try it -- and I'll do the
same. Because I feel something for you. Not for who you were in
1988, but for who you are now. And I don't want to lose that a
second time. So, what do you say?"
"I'll have to look at my schedule," Brian hesitated. Then he turned
on his side to face Ron. But he already knew what that answer was.
Even if only to get away from the loft and Pittsburgh and all the
bullshit for a week or so. Brian had no illusions that Ron's
ridiculous notions about some sort of relationship would pan
out, but what the hell?
"Yes," said Brian, touching Ron's chest. It was covered with that
dark, wiry hair that he had loved running his hands through when
he was 16. But the black was now peppered with gray, showing
just how much time had passed since then. But Ron didn't seem old
to him. His body was great and he seemed strong and certain about
himself. That's what Brian wanted. Strong and certain. Someone
who knew what the fuck he really wanted out of life. Someone who
wanted him. Maybe he could risk it. He moved closer to Ron,
feeling his reawakened erection already pressing back against
Brian's hip. Ready for another round.
He could chance a week. Los Angeles in the winter might be just
the thing he needed. It might be gloomy and cold in the Pitts, but
L.A would be warm and welcoming. He'd finally get a taste of that
Hollywood high life Justin had been so unwilling to leave behind.
And he would enjoy every second of it. He'd let Ron show him
around and introduce him to all his famous friends. Maybe he'd
even fuck a few movie stars for himself.
What the fuck did he have to lose?
What the fuck, indeed?
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh
Ron didn't know how to respond to Brian's outburst. He had never
imagined that Brian had a son or that his emotional life had been
so ravaged. That he and his boyfriend had had such a contentious
relationship that had ended with Brian embittered and feeling
totally abandoned.
Ben had never bothered to mention those things when he told Ron
that he wanted him to come to dinner to meet someone he might
find very interesting. "He's Michael's best friend. He went through
a bad breakup a while ago and needs some cheering up," was all Ben
had said. And since Ron was at loose ends while he was in Pittsburgh,
he'd agreed. Little did he suspect how his life was about to change.
"That's a lot to take, Brian," Ron empathized. "I'm sorry about your
son. Can't you visit him and let him know how you feel?"
"I just did not long ago," said Brian. "But it's fucking awkward. It's
obvious that Lindsay and Mel want as much of my money as they can
get. But me? They'd rather leave me than take me. Even Lindsay feels
that way now and she used to be one of my best friends. It's pretty
clear that Gus is going to grow up and I'll be some fucking stranger
who shows up from time to time with expensive presents. Some guy
he only knows from the stories he's heard from Melanie -- all bad
stories."
"I'm sure your son loves you, Brian," said Ron. "He can stay in
touch with you, even if he's in Canada."
Brian snorted. "Maybe Gus won't want stay in touch! But it's probably
just as well. If I'm far away, then I can't do my son any harm," he
stated flatly. "The same with my lover. He seems to be the happiest
when he's in a different state. I think he likes the IDEA of me a lot
more than he likes the reality of me."
Ron was troubled to hear this. Brian seemed very down on himself.
He was a beautiful and highly successful man, but it was as if none
of that mattered. He was an emotional failure and that negated
everything else he had accomplished.
"Maybe it wasn't meant to be with this young man. These things
happen. Relationships are tricky things." I ought to know, thought
Ron. I've never been able to manage one for long. I thought I could
make it work with Dorian, but even that fell apart eventually.
Probably because my heart was still buried with a boy I never
thought I'd see again. "Perhaps this Justin simply wasn't ready to
make a serious commitment?"
"Justin," Brian breathed, as if it hurt him to say the name aloud.
"A commitment? Fuck! That's what he always said he wanted. And
that's what I tried to give him. Maybe it was too little, too late, but
at least I tried! And he fucking claimed he loved me! From the first
night we were together! Yet he hurt me more than my goddamn father,
or my bitch of a mother, or all of the creeps who used me and then
threw me away when I was living on the street. Hurt me more than
all of the tricks and johns and well-meaning friends and would-be
lovers put together. Because in the end I didn't give a shit about any
of them. So they couldn't touch me where it counted. They couldn't
reach that place I always kept only for myself. Until Justin. I let
him in there. Let him live there and make a home there. He was the
only person who I ever let get inside me like that. But he exploded
it. And now there's nothing left. Just a big, empty space. And that's
all."
"I don't believe that," Ron asserted. "I don't believe you're empty
inside, Brian. Because your face isn't empty. The way you move isn't
empty. You wouldn't feel anything at all if your heart had exploded.
What you're feeling now, as painful as it is, tells me that you can
feel that same love again. Someday."
"No!" Brian almost shouted it. "Never again! I can't fucking let it
happen again! I can't take him back. I... I can't."
"I didn't mean him, Brian," said Ron, gently. "I meant someone else.
Someone who loved you a long time ago. Someone who wants to try
to love you again. Not the way you were when you were 16, but the
way you are now. The man you are now."
"That's fucking impossible," Brian said dismissively. "Don't even
go there, Ron."
"I don't think it's impossible," Ron returned. "Nothing is impossible.
Look at how far we've both come in our lives. Who would ever have
guessed? I never imagined that someone who I thought was lost to
me forever would come back from the dead, so to speak. Therefore,
I have to believe it's for a purpose that we were brought together
again."
"Yeah," huffed Brian. "For the satisfaction of Ben and Mikey
Novotny-Bruckner, Queer Matchmakers Extraordinaire!"
"Possibly," Ron admitted. "But I don't really give a damn how it
happened. Because it has happened. And I don't want it to end here."
Brian shook his head. Ron had always been a dreamer. Big dreams,
big plans. And some of them had come true for him. But this? It
was too beyond the pale. And Brian's heart was too damaged. He
could never take that risk again.
"I don't believe in miracles, Ron. And I don't believe in fate. Or
fairy tales -- unless it's a fairy tail that I'm fucking!" Brian
laughed. But the laughter didn't last. "The truth is that you're
going back to the Hollywood whirl as soon as this film shindig at
the university is over. And I'm going back to my life of endless
dissipation and promiscuity. Maybe you can e-mail me whenever
you get lonely. Or better yet -- send me some prime L.A. porn."
"I have an even better idea, Brian," Ron countered. "Come with
me to Los Angeles. Come for a week. That's all I ask. Ben says that
you have a booming ad agency and I know you must be busy, but
surely you could take a short break for the Holidays? To have
some fun in La La Land. To check out the scene. And to get to know
me again, too. I have a great life there. I have a nice house in
Beverly Hills and good friends and I'm successful doing something
I love -- directing. I'm a different person than I was when I was
a confused 25 year old. And it's very apparent that you're a
different person, too, Brian. It would be a new start for both of
us. And I think you could use a new start. If it doesn't work out,
then we'll shake hands and let it go. If it's over, it's over. No
regrets, okay?"
Brian smiled at Ron. The joint was out and it was almost dawn.
The only thing left to do was go to sleep -- or have another fuck.
"No regrets? Jesus, Ron! That's my fucking line!"
"Then put it to good use, Brian," Ron urged. "If you stay here,
sitting alone and thinking about what you've lost, you're going
to drive yourself crazy. Believe me -- I know." Ron paused. "I've
been there. After... after you left. When I thought you were dead.
I thought I'd lose my goddamn mind. What saved me was my work.
My films. I focused on them and excluded almost everything else.
And I've been a success. But now I want more. I need more in my
life. And I think you do, too."
"But you don't know me, Ron," Brian replied. "And I don't know
you. Not really. All we know is some old memory that probably
isn't even true."
"Then let's find out, Brian," said Ron. "Try it -- and I'll do the
same. Because I feel something for you. Not for who you were in
1988, but for who you are now. And I don't want to lose that a
second time. So, what do you say?"
"I'll have to look at my schedule," Brian hesitated. Then he turned
on his side to face Ron. But he already knew what that answer was.
Even if only to get away from the loft and Pittsburgh and all the
bullshit for a week or so. Brian had no illusions that Ron's
ridiculous notions about some sort of relationship would pan
out, but what the hell?
"Yes," said Brian, touching Ron's chest. It was covered with that
dark, wiry hair that he had loved running his hands through when
he was 16. But the black was now peppered with gray, showing
just how much time had passed since then. But Ron didn't seem old
to him. His body was great and he seemed strong and certain about
himself. That's what Brian wanted. Strong and certain. Someone
who knew what the fuck he really wanted out of life. Someone who
wanted him. Maybe he could risk it. He moved closer to Ron,
feeling his reawakened erection already pressing back against
Brian's hip. Ready for another round.
He could chance a week. Los Angeles in the winter might be just
the thing he needed. It might be gloomy and cold in the Pitts, but
L.A would be warm and welcoming. He'd finally get a taste of that
Hollywood high life Justin had been so unwilling to leave behind.
And he would enjoy every second of it. He'd let Ron show him
around and introduce him to all his famous friends. Maybe he'd
even fuck a few movie stars for himself.
What the fuck did he have to lose?
What the fuck, indeed?