"Coup de Foudre" 137
I'm so sorry for the delay. Real Life Issues.
Just a few more chapters until the finale. I hope you enjoy this one!
By Gaedhal
Los Angeles, November 2016
“Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” said Justin. “It’s not what I expected.”
“How so?” Brian was standing on the edge of the tangle of overgrown backyard, staring back at the house on Creekside Canyon.
“It’s… just a house,” said Justin. He was trying, and failing, to mask his disappointment.
“It’s not a mansion,” said Brian. “I never said it was. Mansions weren’t Ron’s style. It was a place to live and work. Comfortable, simple, clean - that was what he liked. Except his office, of course. That’s like a fucking rat’s nest. But…” Brian shrugged. “They’re almost finished packing it up.”
“Is UCLA taking everything?” Justin asked.
He nodded. “Everything except some family stuff - photos and home movies of Gus through the years. The wedding in Maui…” Brian paused. “Some of the trips we took. Ron loved using that fucking little camera. He never stopped being a director, even when he was off-duty.”
“Gus will be happy to have those movies one day,” said Justin. “I’d love to see him growing up.”
“But not now,” said Brian, wincing. “I don’t think I could take it…”
Justin put his hand on Brian’s arm. “I didn’t mean now. But one day. You’ll be glad Ron made them. It’s good to remember.”
“Maybe.” But Brian turned away. “At night you can hear the coyotes yapping down in the canyon.” He pointed down a deep slope towards the ravine. “Ron had that fucking little dog and he would never let him out at night. He was afraid Armani would turn into coyote chow.”
“That would have been horrible!” said Justin. Then he laughed. “I think you secretly liked Ron’s dog.”
“Fuck you,” Brian sniffed. “I hated the fucking little dust mop.”
“Maybe…”
“Don’t even think about it! Dogs make a big mess. They piss and shit and leave hair all over the house,” said Brian. “And if we have a new house in the Pitts…”
“We’ll get a dog that doesn’t shed,” Justin returned. “And we’ll train him.”
“You’ll train him!” Brian huffed. “Not me! But shut up about it, or Gus’ll never stop bugging me.”
Justin grinned. They’d wear Brian down… eventually. “By the way, has Gus said anything about this house?”
Brian shrugged. “He hasn’t mentioned it, but… kids are resilient. I doubt he has a huge sentimental attachment to this place.”
“Not like you do,” Justin added.
Brian snorted. “I don’t have a fucking sentimental bone in my body!”
“Not much,” said Justin. “Is that guy really going to buy it? For three million dollars?” He looked around. “No offense, but this house isn’t as big or as fancy as the rental in Point Breeze and you’d never get three million bucks for that place!”
“Location, location, location,” Brian reminded him. “The Hollywood Hills are very desirable. They aren’t buying the house, they’re buying the location. In fact, the guy will probably tear it down and build something a lot bigger.”
Justin frowned. “Tear it down? That seems a waste.”
“It is. Some people have more money than brains. But out here people want a showplace. A place where they can flaunt their bad taste and over-stuffed bank accounts. That’s not this house. Ron wanted quiet and private and simple. That’s what he got. But that’s not what sells these days. So…” Brian sighed. “Don’t tell Gus about tearing it down, though. That might… upset him a little.”
Justin bit his lip. It obviously upset Brian. He’d lived in this house with Ron for ten years - all the memories it must hold for him. Thinking of it destroyed had to hurt.
“When will Gus and Carmel be back?” Justin looked at his watch. “It’s almost 5:00.”
“I told them to be back from visiting Carmel’s relatives before 6:00. I made reservations for 7:00 at Ruby’s. It’s a little campy, but Gus loves that place. I also invited Diane and Dorian and his partner, Peter. They all love Gus and I know they want to see him before we go back to Pittsburgh.”
“Is Diane bringing… her daughter?” Justin hesitated. Brian knew that Justin knew that Diane’s little girl was Brian’s daughter. And Gus knew it, too. But officially it was still a secret.
“Of course she’s bringing Mia.” Brian smiled. “Unlike Melanie with Jenny Rebecca, I want Gus to know his sister. And you don’t have to tiptoe around the issue. My sperm in a cup isn’t an unknown commodity. If I lose any more of my marbles, I might just go into the jizz biz. I even have a great catchphrase - ‘For the lady who wants a kid, but not a dick! Kinney’s Sperm-in-a-Cup! Get it while it’s hot!’”
“That’s disgusting!” said Justin, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m afraid you’ll have too many takers to be able to keep up production.”
“Who can’t keep up? I haven’t heard any complaints from you… yet!”
Justin kissed Brian on the cheek. “And you won’t hear any complaints, either. At least not from me.”
“There’s no one else,” said Brian. “And I mean that.”
“For now,” said Justin. “Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep.”
“We’ll see,” said Brian. “I might just surprise you. Come on, Sunshine.”
They walked back up to the house.
“It is quiet here,” Justin commented. “I can see why Ron liked it.” He looked at Brian, searchingly.
“You can talk about him,” said Brian. “It’s not a taboo subject.”
“You know I… I kind of hated him for a long time. But I didn’t even know him,” Justin admitted. “It was the idea of him. Especially after you two got married.”
Brian stopped in his tracks. “You could have had that.”
“I know,” said Justin. “But maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe it was meant to happen this way, when we were both older. Different.”
“Finally grown-ups?”
Justin swallowed hard. “You were right, Brian. It was only time.”
But Brian shook his head and started walking again. “It was only bullshit. Come into Ron’s office. I need to show you something.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Ron’s office was piled with boxes. Everything that wasn’t already there - dubs of film, scripts, letters, private papers - was being sent to the Ronald J. Rosenblum Film Archive at UCLA. The only things Brian had set aside were Ron’s home movies and photographs of the family, some personal correspondence, and Ron’s awards, which he was saving for Gus.
Brian picked up a large manila envelope on Ron’s desk. It looked a little battered and frayed at the edges. Written on a small white label in black marker was ‘Jack - 1988.’
Brian opened the clasp. Inside was a can of 16 mm film and a DVR dub in a cracked plastic case.
“What’s that? Justin asked. “More home movies?”
“Sort of,” said Brian. “Home movies Ron made a long time ago.” He looked at Justin sharply. “With me.”
Justin was puzzled. “A long time ago? How long ago?”
“Look at the date.”
“1988.” He looked at Brian. “Are these outtakes from ‘Red Shirt’?” Justin knew that was the date Ron had made the documentary that started his career. The documentary that featured a 16-year-old street hustler named Jack.
“Not exactly,” said Brian. “That’s why they aren’t going to the archive. I’m taking them back to the Pitts and putting them in a safe place. But I want you to promise me something. Will you do that? Will you promise me?”
“Of course,” said Justin, more than a little uneasy. “But I’d like to know what I’m promising to do first!”
Brian’s face was deadly serious. “I want you to promise that if anything happens to me, that you’ll destroy this envelope. The film, the dub - everything. Will you do that?”
Justin squirmed. “Yes, I’ll do it. But stop talking about ‘if anything happens to you’! Nothing is going to happen to you!”
“Yeah,” Brian snorted. “Ron thought he’d live to be a hundred. And I never imagined I’d take a header off that motorcycle and end up with mashed potatoes for a brain. Shit happens and I want you to do this in case it happens to me.”
“But… but why destroy this particular film? I don’t get it.”
Brian slid the can and the DVR back into the envelope and closed it. “Because I don’t want anyone else to see this. Not Gus, not Michael… and not you. Not anyone.”
Justin stared at the envelope and then at Brian. And that’s when he understood.
“This film… it’s not home movies, is it?”
Brian laughed shortly. “A sort of home movie. A very specific kind of home movie.”
“Of Ron and you? A sex tape! Am I right?” Suddenly Justin had an intense desire to see the film. He knew it was creepy, but it was almost overwhelming.
“Yes.” Brian took a thick roll of packing tape and sealed the flap of the old envelope.
“Well, he was a director and you… you’re Brian Kinney! That’s not such a huge surprise!”
“No, although we… we never did it after we got back together. That would have been… I don’t know… weird somehow. I guess it’s almost expected these days for celebrities to make sex tapes and then leak them to the media. Or even just to have for themselves. But back then…”
“You were a kid,” said Justin. “Only 16.”
“I was a kid,” Brian repeated. “I had a lot more sexual experience than Ron by far, especially gay sexual experience. But that’s not how people would read it. A grown man with an underage boy. That’s all they’d see. I never want that to be Ron’s legacy. Or how Gus will remember him - or me. And that’s why I want you to destroy the film and the dub. Ron removed this reel from the ‘Red Shirt” footage years ago and brought it back to the house. He didn’t want anyone else to see it, either. I’m respecting his wishes.”
“But you’ve seen it, Brian,” said Justin.
“Many times. But that was me. And Ron. It’s not for anyone else.”
“I was only 17 when we first fucked,” Justin pointed out.
“I know. But I didn’t film you and then become a famous Hollywood director! And plenty of people said what we were doing was wrong, including your parents. And, now that Gus is 16, I can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t want some pervy guy in his 20’s seducing my teenage son. Or in Gus’s case, some pervy woman!”
“I’m pretty sure Gus is still a virgin,” said Justin.
“Whether he is or he isn’t… Let’s fucking talk about something else. This is making my head hurt!” Brian set the envelope in a box labeled ‘Pittsburgh.’ “Remind me to retrieve that when we get home.”
“I will.”
Brian grabbed Justin’s hand and squeezed it. “You want to watch it, don’t you?”
Brian was hurting his hand and Justin pulled it away. “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want to. But it’s your call, Brian. It’s your life. Whatever you decide.”
“Hey!” A voice called out and they heard the kitchen door slam. “Dad? Justin?”
“Gus and Carmel are back,” said Justin. “Just in time to go to dinner.”
“We’re here in the office!”
Gus raced in, his eyes huge. “I drove all the way to Silver Lake and back! And Carmel only yelled at me twice!”
“Only twice? You must be getting better.”
“But did you hear the news?” Gus demanded. “It was on the radio when we were coming back!”
Brian made a face. “What news? Did Trump organize another coup d’état and move the government to one of his failed casinos?”
“No, Dad! Don’t be silly!” said Gus. “Tess has officially filed for divorce from Jimmy! And Jimmy just gave a big interview to ‘People Magazine’! It’s coming out tomorrow with his picture on the cover. And you’ll never guess what he says?”
“Shit,” said Justin. “He… he doesn’t… does he?”
“He’s gay!” Gus crowed. “Can you believe it? And he says that as soon as he’s divorced from Tess he’s getting married! Like, GAY married! And you’ll never guess to who!”
Brian and Justin exchanged looks.
“Danny Mitchell. My former physical therapist,” Brian stated.
“Oh,” said Gus, disappointed. “Then you did hear about it.”
“No,” Brian deadpanned. “I’m just a very good guesser. Now go wash up, Sonny Boy. Diane and Dorian and Peter will be waiting for us at Ruby’s. And I know what everyone in West Hollywood will be talking about tonight!”
“Is Mia going to be there?” Gus asked excitedly.
“Yes, she’ll be there. Now get going!”
Brian and Gus watched Gus race upstairs.
“Wow,” said Justin. “Jimmy Hardy. America’s Boy Next Door! A big old queer!”
“Just like the rest of us,” said Brian. “Imagine that!”
“I know!” Justin laughed. “Imagine that!”
Just a few more chapters until the finale. I hope you enjoy this one!
By Gaedhal
Los Angeles, November 2016
“Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” said Justin. “It’s not what I expected.”
“How so?” Brian was standing on the edge of the tangle of overgrown backyard, staring back at the house on Creekside Canyon.
“It’s… just a house,” said Justin. He was trying, and failing, to mask his disappointment.
“It’s not a mansion,” said Brian. “I never said it was. Mansions weren’t Ron’s style. It was a place to live and work. Comfortable, simple, clean - that was what he liked. Except his office, of course. That’s like a fucking rat’s nest. But…” Brian shrugged. “They’re almost finished packing it up.”
“Is UCLA taking everything?” Justin asked.
He nodded. “Everything except some family stuff - photos and home movies of Gus through the years. The wedding in Maui…” Brian paused. “Some of the trips we took. Ron loved using that fucking little camera. He never stopped being a director, even when he was off-duty.”
“Gus will be happy to have those movies one day,” said Justin. “I’d love to see him growing up.”
“But not now,” said Brian, wincing. “I don’t think I could take it…”
Justin put his hand on Brian’s arm. “I didn’t mean now. But one day. You’ll be glad Ron made them. It’s good to remember.”
“Maybe.” But Brian turned away. “At night you can hear the coyotes yapping down in the canyon.” He pointed down a deep slope towards the ravine. “Ron had that fucking little dog and he would never let him out at night. He was afraid Armani would turn into coyote chow.”
“That would have been horrible!” said Justin. Then he laughed. “I think you secretly liked Ron’s dog.”
“Fuck you,” Brian sniffed. “I hated the fucking little dust mop.”
“Maybe…”
“Don’t even think about it! Dogs make a big mess. They piss and shit and leave hair all over the house,” said Brian. “And if we have a new house in the Pitts…”
“We’ll get a dog that doesn’t shed,” Justin returned. “And we’ll train him.”
“You’ll train him!” Brian huffed. “Not me! But shut up about it, or Gus’ll never stop bugging me.”
Justin grinned. They’d wear Brian down… eventually. “By the way, has Gus said anything about this house?”
Brian shrugged. “He hasn’t mentioned it, but… kids are resilient. I doubt he has a huge sentimental attachment to this place.”
“Not like you do,” Justin added.
Brian snorted. “I don’t have a fucking sentimental bone in my body!”
“Not much,” said Justin. “Is that guy really going to buy it? For three million dollars?” He looked around. “No offense, but this house isn’t as big or as fancy as the rental in Point Breeze and you’d never get three million bucks for that place!”
“Location, location, location,” Brian reminded him. “The Hollywood Hills are very desirable. They aren’t buying the house, they’re buying the location. In fact, the guy will probably tear it down and build something a lot bigger.”
Justin frowned. “Tear it down? That seems a waste.”
“It is. Some people have more money than brains. But out here people want a showplace. A place where they can flaunt their bad taste and over-stuffed bank accounts. That’s not this house. Ron wanted quiet and private and simple. That’s what he got. But that’s not what sells these days. So…” Brian sighed. “Don’t tell Gus about tearing it down, though. That might… upset him a little.”
Justin bit his lip. It obviously upset Brian. He’d lived in this house with Ron for ten years - all the memories it must hold for him. Thinking of it destroyed had to hurt.
“When will Gus and Carmel be back?” Justin looked at his watch. “It’s almost 5:00.”
“I told them to be back from visiting Carmel’s relatives before 6:00. I made reservations for 7:00 at Ruby’s. It’s a little campy, but Gus loves that place. I also invited Diane and Dorian and his partner, Peter. They all love Gus and I know they want to see him before we go back to Pittsburgh.”
“Is Diane bringing… her daughter?” Justin hesitated. Brian knew that Justin knew that Diane’s little girl was Brian’s daughter. And Gus knew it, too. But officially it was still a secret.
“Of course she’s bringing Mia.” Brian smiled. “Unlike Melanie with Jenny Rebecca, I want Gus to know his sister. And you don’t have to tiptoe around the issue. My sperm in a cup isn’t an unknown commodity. If I lose any more of my marbles, I might just go into the jizz biz. I even have a great catchphrase - ‘For the lady who wants a kid, but not a dick! Kinney’s Sperm-in-a-Cup! Get it while it’s hot!’”
“That’s disgusting!” said Justin, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m afraid you’ll have too many takers to be able to keep up production.”
“Who can’t keep up? I haven’t heard any complaints from you… yet!”
Justin kissed Brian on the cheek. “And you won’t hear any complaints, either. At least not from me.”
“There’s no one else,” said Brian. “And I mean that.”
“For now,” said Justin. “Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep.”
“We’ll see,” said Brian. “I might just surprise you. Come on, Sunshine.”
They walked back up to the house.
“It is quiet here,” Justin commented. “I can see why Ron liked it.” He looked at Brian, searchingly.
“You can talk about him,” said Brian. “It’s not a taboo subject.”
“You know I… I kind of hated him for a long time. But I didn’t even know him,” Justin admitted. “It was the idea of him. Especially after you two got married.”
Brian stopped in his tracks. “You could have had that.”
“I know,” said Justin. “But maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe it was meant to happen this way, when we were both older. Different.”
“Finally grown-ups?”
Justin swallowed hard. “You were right, Brian. It was only time.”
But Brian shook his head and started walking again. “It was only bullshit. Come into Ron’s office. I need to show you something.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Ron’s office was piled with boxes. Everything that wasn’t already there - dubs of film, scripts, letters, private papers - was being sent to the Ronald J. Rosenblum Film Archive at UCLA. The only things Brian had set aside were Ron’s home movies and photographs of the family, some personal correspondence, and Ron’s awards, which he was saving for Gus.
Brian picked up a large manila envelope on Ron’s desk. It looked a little battered and frayed at the edges. Written on a small white label in black marker was ‘Jack - 1988.’
Brian opened the clasp. Inside was a can of 16 mm film and a DVR dub in a cracked plastic case.
“What’s that? Justin asked. “More home movies?”
“Sort of,” said Brian. “Home movies Ron made a long time ago.” He looked at Justin sharply. “With me.”
Justin was puzzled. “A long time ago? How long ago?”
“Look at the date.”
“1988.” He looked at Brian. “Are these outtakes from ‘Red Shirt’?” Justin knew that was the date Ron had made the documentary that started his career. The documentary that featured a 16-year-old street hustler named Jack.
“Not exactly,” said Brian. “That’s why they aren’t going to the archive. I’m taking them back to the Pitts and putting them in a safe place. But I want you to promise me something. Will you do that? Will you promise me?”
“Of course,” said Justin, more than a little uneasy. “But I’d like to know what I’m promising to do first!”
Brian’s face was deadly serious. “I want you to promise that if anything happens to me, that you’ll destroy this envelope. The film, the dub - everything. Will you do that?”
Justin squirmed. “Yes, I’ll do it. But stop talking about ‘if anything happens to you’! Nothing is going to happen to you!”
“Yeah,” Brian snorted. “Ron thought he’d live to be a hundred. And I never imagined I’d take a header off that motorcycle and end up with mashed potatoes for a brain. Shit happens and I want you to do this in case it happens to me.”
“But… but why destroy this particular film? I don’t get it.”
Brian slid the can and the DVR back into the envelope and closed it. “Because I don’t want anyone else to see this. Not Gus, not Michael… and not you. Not anyone.”
Justin stared at the envelope and then at Brian. And that’s when he understood.
“This film… it’s not home movies, is it?”
Brian laughed shortly. “A sort of home movie. A very specific kind of home movie.”
“Of Ron and you? A sex tape! Am I right?” Suddenly Justin had an intense desire to see the film. He knew it was creepy, but it was almost overwhelming.
“Yes.” Brian took a thick roll of packing tape and sealed the flap of the old envelope.
“Well, he was a director and you… you’re Brian Kinney! That’s not such a huge surprise!”
“No, although we… we never did it after we got back together. That would have been… I don’t know… weird somehow. I guess it’s almost expected these days for celebrities to make sex tapes and then leak them to the media. Or even just to have for themselves. But back then…”
“You were a kid,” said Justin. “Only 16.”
“I was a kid,” Brian repeated. “I had a lot more sexual experience than Ron by far, especially gay sexual experience. But that’s not how people would read it. A grown man with an underage boy. That’s all they’d see. I never want that to be Ron’s legacy. Or how Gus will remember him - or me. And that’s why I want you to destroy the film and the dub. Ron removed this reel from the ‘Red Shirt” footage years ago and brought it back to the house. He didn’t want anyone else to see it, either. I’m respecting his wishes.”
“But you’ve seen it, Brian,” said Justin.
“Many times. But that was me. And Ron. It’s not for anyone else.”
“I was only 17 when we first fucked,” Justin pointed out.
“I know. But I didn’t film you and then become a famous Hollywood director! And plenty of people said what we were doing was wrong, including your parents. And, now that Gus is 16, I can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t want some pervy guy in his 20’s seducing my teenage son. Or in Gus’s case, some pervy woman!”
“I’m pretty sure Gus is still a virgin,” said Justin.
“Whether he is or he isn’t… Let’s fucking talk about something else. This is making my head hurt!” Brian set the envelope in a box labeled ‘Pittsburgh.’ “Remind me to retrieve that when we get home.”
“I will.”
Brian grabbed Justin’s hand and squeezed it. “You want to watch it, don’t you?”
Brian was hurting his hand and Justin pulled it away. “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want to. But it’s your call, Brian. It’s your life. Whatever you decide.”
“Hey!” A voice called out and they heard the kitchen door slam. “Dad? Justin?”
“Gus and Carmel are back,” said Justin. “Just in time to go to dinner.”
“We’re here in the office!”
Gus raced in, his eyes huge. “I drove all the way to Silver Lake and back! And Carmel only yelled at me twice!”
“Only twice? You must be getting better.”
“But did you hear the news?” Gus demanded. “It was on the radio when we were coming back!”
Brian made a face. “What news? Did Trump organize another coup d’état and move the government to one of his failed casinos?”
“No, Dad! Don’t be silly!” said Gus. “Tess has officially filed for divorce from Jimmy! And Jimmy just gave a big interview to ‘People Magazine’! It’s coming out tomorrow with his picture on the cover. And you’ll never guess what he says?”
“Shit,” said Justin. “He… he doesn’t… does he?”
“He’s gay!” Gus crowed. “Can you believe it? And he says that as soon as he’s divorced from Tess he’s getting married! Like, GAY married! And you’ll never guess to who!”
Brian and Justin exchanged looks.
“Danny Mitchell. My former physical therapist,” Brian stated.
“Oh,” said Gus, disappointed. “Then you did hear about it.”
“No,” Brian deadpanned. “I’m just a very good guesser. Now go wash up, Sonny Boy. Diane and Dorian and Peter will be waiting for us at Ruby’s. And I know what everyone in West Hollywood will be talking about tonight!”
“Is Mia going to be there?” Gus asked excitedly.
“Yes, she’ll be there. Now get going!”
Brian and Gus watched Gus race upstairs.
“Wow,” said Justin. “Jimmy Hardy. America’s Boy Next Door! A big old queer!”
“Just like the rest of us,” said Brian. “Imagine that!”
“I know!” Justin laughed. “Imagine that!”