"The Enchanted Cottage" -- Part 29
One more chapter...
After the opening.
Pittsburgh, Pa., December 2006
"Darling, It was wonderful!" Jennifer exclaimed. "They all loved your work!"
"And they sold every piece," Debbie added. "For a hundred fucking dollars each! You're on your way to being rich, Justin!"
"The Center k... keeps all the money," Justin reminded them. "The show is b... basically a fund raiser for the GLC."
"No matter," said Debbie. "It's the thought that counts. Your mom and I are going over to Woody's to have a celebration drink. You and Daphne want to join us?"
"Thanks, but I've got to go home," said Daphne as she slipped on her jacket. "My mom and I have to take my grandmother shopping in the morning. But thanks for the invitation." She gave Justin a quick kiss and a wink. Then she eyed a short, curly-haired guy lingering next to the vagina sculptures. "Go for it," she whispered.
"Shut up!" Justin gave her a push. "I'll t... talk to you tomorrow.
"Okay," said Daphne. "Later."
"Are you coming, Justin?" asked Jennifer as she and Debbie headed for the door.
"I'll c... catch up with you in a few m... minutes," Justin said. "I want to look at my p... prints a little longer."
Justin walked up and down in front of his pieces while Tannis and Philip collected plastic cups and discarded programs and tossed them into the trash.
The prints were good, he decided. Not just okay, but really good. He never would have thought of working this way before Brian got him the computer. Never combined these different techniques. He'd only thought about the traditional ways of working -- drawing, painting, collage -- but never of merging aspects of all three. And adding in photography, too. It opened up so many new possibilities.
He stopped in front of the largest print -- the one of Brian stretched out on the bed. He'd so wanted Brian to see the show. To see his work, matted and framed, on the wall, looked at, praised, even bought. Like he was a real artist.
"Are you through admiring your own work, Mr. Taylor?" asked Tannis. She had been supportive of his pieces, but she was a woman with a perpetual scowl on her face, so it was hard to warm up to her. "We'd like to finish cleaning up here and go home, if that's all right with you?"
"Sure," Justin said awkwardly. "I was j...just going." He put on his coat and slunk out the door.
"Hey! I was wondering when you'd finally come out."
The curly-haired musician -- Ethan -- was waiting on the steps. He leered when he saw that Justin was alone.
"I was on my w... way over to Woody's to meet my m... mom and her friend for a drink," said Justin. "You want to come along?"
"I have a better idea," said Ethan, leaning closer. "The symphony is putting me up at the William Penn. It's a great room -- with a bar and room service and a king-sized bed. I have a DVD of me playing last year with the New York Philharmonic. We could watch it and have a drink while we relax. It's much cozier than some noisy bar on Liberty Avenue."
"Well..." Justin hesitated. He barely knew this guy. The only person he'd ever had sex with was Brian -- and he loved Brian! Daphne had said that he should go for it -- but did he really want to? Did he want to have sex with someone just because he was there -- and because Justin was lonely. And horny.
And missing Brian.
"Have you ever done an album cover?" Ethan asked. "I have a new CD coming out in the spring and I like your work. Maybe you could do a portrait of me in that style -- with the photos and the colors and those little doodle things? What are those things?"
"It's ink," said Justin. "With a w... watercolor wash."
"Yeah," said Ethan. "Like that." His lips were up against Justin's ear. "You're hot. But you already know that. If you were my boyfriend, I'd play my violin for you in bed. I'd stroke your strings with my bow." Ethan's fingers brushed the front of Justin's pants. "We'd make beautiful music together."
Beautiful music together? What a totally cheeseball thing to say! Justin had to stop himself from bursting out laughing.
"Can I t... take a rain-check?" said Justin. "I'm beat tonight."
Ethan frowned. He wasn't used to being turned down. "Okay. I'm going to be in town for another week. Maybe you can come and see me play?" Ethan took out a little notebook and wrote down his number. "Here." He pushed the paper into Justin's hand. "Give me a call and I'll arrange it. Have you ever eaten at Papagano's?"
"N... no."
"We can have dinner there after the concert," Ethan purred. "And then that drink at my hotel. I'll be waiting for your call."
Ethan walked away, leaving Justin alone on the steps. He stared at the scrap of paper in his hand. Then he crumpled it and tossed it on the ground.
"You better throw that number away, twat!"
Justin jumped. "Brian? Is that you?"
"Who the fuck else?" Brian emerged from the shadows
"You scared the p... piss out of me!"
"He's going to stroke your strings with his bow?" Brian mocked. "Christ! I've never heard such a load of horseshit in my entire life! Do guys actually score using lines like that?"
"It apparently w... works for him!" Justin laughed. But then he turned serious. "You came! I can't believe it!"
"I was curious," Brian shrugged. "A lot of people came. I was watching them come and go."
"But you didn't c... come in," Justin challenged.
"I saw what I needed to see," said Brian. "They fucking loved your stuff. I knew they would."
"All the p... pieces were sold," said Justin. "They'll hang here for the next m... month, so you can still come to the exhibit -- when no one else is around. They especially l... liked the one of you."
"Which one of me?" Brian smirked. "The naked one, the naked one, or the naked one?"
"The one of you on the b... bed. It was the first thing that sold. Philip t... told me."
"I know," said Brian. "I bought it."
Justin blinked. "Y... you? Bought that print?"
"Of course. I couldn't let anyone else hang it on their wall." Brian shivered and pulled his scarf up around his neck. "It's fucking cold out here. Let's go."
"Go? Wh... where? My mother and Deb are at Woody's having a drink."
"I don't want a fucking drink -- for once," said Brian. "I want something else."
"Something else?" Justin held his breath.
"I want what's mine! We're going to the loft." Brian tugged Justin's arm possessively. "Now!"
***
After the opening.
Pittsburgh, Pa., December 2006
"Darling, It was wonderful!" Jennifer exclaimed. "They all loved your work!"
"And they sold every piece," Debbie added. "For a hundred fucking dollars each! You're on your way to being rich, Justin!"
"The Center k... keeps all the money," Justin reminded them. "The show is b... basically a fund raiser for the GLC."
"No matter," said Debbie. "It's the thought that counts. Your mom and I are going over to Woody's to have a celebration drink. You and Daphne want to join us?"
"Thanks, but I've got to go home," said Daphne as she slipped on her jacket. "My mom and I have to take my grandmother shopping in the morning. But thanks for the invitation." She gave Justin a quick kiss and a wink. Then she eyed a short, curly-haired guy lingering next to the vagina sculptures. "Go for it," she whispered.
"Shut up!" Justin gave her a push. "I'll t... talk to you tomorrow.
"Okay," said Daphne. "Later."
"Are you coming, Justin?" asked Jennifer as she and Debbie headed for the door.
"I'll c... catch up with you in a few m... minutes," Justin said. "I want to look at my p... prints a little longer."
Justin walked up and down in front of his pieces while Tannis and Philip collected plastic cups and discarded programs and tossed them into the trash.
The prints were good, he decided. Not just okay, but really good. He never would have thought of working this way before Brian got him the computer. Never combined these different techniques. He'd only thought about the traditional ways of working -- drawing, painting, collage -- but never of merging aspects of all three. And adding in photography, too. It opened up so many new possibilities.
He stopped in front of the largest print -- the one of Brian stretched out on the bed. He'd so wanted Brian to see the show. To see his work, matted and framed, on the wall, looked at, praised, even bought. Like he was a real artist.
"Are you through admiring your own work, Mr. Taylor?" asked Tannis. She had been supportive of his pieces, but she was a woman with a perpetual scowl on her face, so it was hard to warm up to her. "We'd like to finish cleaning up here and go home, if that's all right with you?"
"Sure," Justin said awkwardly. "I was j...just going." He put on his coat and slunk out the door.
"Hey! I was wondering when you'd finally come out."
The curly-haired musician -- Ethan -- was waiting on the steps. He leered when he saw that Justin was alone.
"I was on my w... way over to Woody's to meet my m... mom and her friend for a drink," said Justin. "You want to come along?"
"I have a better idea," said Ethan, leaning closer. "The symphony is putting me up at the William Penn. It's a great room -- with a bar and room service and a king-sized bed. I have a DVD of me playing last year with the New York Philharmonic. We could watch it and have a drink while we relax. It's much cozier than some noisy bar on Liberty Avenue."
"Well..." Justin hesitated. He barely knew this guy. The only person he'd ever had sex with was Brian -- and he loved Brian! Daphne had said that he should go for it -- but did he really want to? Did he want to have sex with someone just because he was there -- and because Justin was lonely. And horny.
And missing Brian.
"Have you ever done an album cover?" Ethan asked. "I have a new CD coming out in the spring and I like your work. Maybe you could do a portrait of me in that style -- with the photos and the colors and those little doodle things? What are those things?"
"It's ink," said Justin. "With a w... watercolor wash."
"Yeah," said Ethan. "Like that." His lips were up against Justin's ear. "You're hot. But you already know that. If you were my boyfriend, I'd play my violin for you in bed. I'd stroke your strings with my bow." Ethan's fingers brushed the front of Justin's pants. "We'd make beautiful music together."
Beautiful music together? What a totally cheeseball thing to say! Justin had to stop himself from bursting out laughing.
"Can I t... take a rain-check?" said Justin. "I'm beat tonight."
Ethan frowned. He wasn't used to being turned down. "Okay. I'm going to be in town for another week. Maybe you can come and see me play?" Ethan took out a little notebook and wrote down his number. "Here." He pushed the paper into Justin's hand. "Give me a call and I'll arrange it. Have you ever eaten at Papagano's?"
"N... no."
"We can have dinner there after the concert," Ethan purred. "And then that drink at my hotel. I'll be waiting for your call."
Ethan walked away, leaving Justin alone on the steps. He stared at the scrap of paper in his hand. Then he crumpled it and tossed it on the ground.
"You better throw that number away, twat!"
Justin jumped. "Brian? Is that you?"
"Who the fuck else?" Brian emerged from the shadows
"You scared the p... piss out of me!"
"He's going to stroke your strings with his bow?" Brian mocked. "Christ! I've never heard such a load of horseshit in my entire life! Do guys actually score using lines like that?"
"It apparently w... works for him!" Justin laughed. But then he turned serious. "You came! I can't believe it!"
"I was curious," Brian shrugged. "A lot of people came. I was watching them come and go."
"But you didn't c... come in," Justin challenged.
"I saw what I needed to see," said Brian. "They fucking loved your stuff. I knew they would."
"All the p... pieces were sold," said Justin. "They'll hang here for the next m... month, so you can still come to the exhibit -- when no one else is around. They especially l... liked the one of you."
"Which one of me?" Brian smirked. "The naked one, the naked one, or the naked one?"
"The one of you on the b... bed. It was the first thing that sold. Philip t... told me."
"I know," said Brian. "I bought it."
Justin blinked. "Y... you? Bought that print?"
"Of course. I couldn't let anyone else hang it on their wall." Brian shivered and pulled his scarf up around his neck. "It's fucking cold out here. Let's go."
"Go? Wh... where? My mother and Deb are at Woody's having a drink."
"I don't want a fucking drink -- for once," said Brian. "I want something else."
"Something else?" Justin held his breath.
"I want what's mine! We're going to the loft." Brian tugged Justin's arm possessively. "Now!"
***