Stars Made of Paper (5/7) part 1 of 2
Hi! Yes, I'm late, but if you know me at all, you're already aware that this is my defining characteristic. This chapter will be split into two parts, because LJ is not cool enough to contain my 7k words in one post. Here it goes!
Stars Made of Paper
Genre: AU, non-h/c
Warnings: nothing more hardcore than canon, angst, Justin/OMC
Rating: hate to say it, but PG-13 for miles and miles, though Brian is a potty mouth!
Word count: this part: 2700
Beta: moonbrightnites who is an angel of the Lord and a saint and a superhero; all mistakes are mine.
A/N: This fic is for Sakesushimaki <3
Chapter 5 (part 1 of 2)
Is this man your uncle or...?
Brian hit ‘send’ before Justin even left the building. The guy waiting for him got out of the car and leaned against the passenger side. He had a well-worn leather jacket that looked about twenty years old, and not in the fashionable, vintage way. He needed a haircut.
He straightened up, seeing Justin come out, and smiled at him. They kissed, only lips and hands touching faces, but the kiss was intimate enough to make Brian uncomfortable. The boyfriend pulled away and went around to the driver side. Justin turned around and looked straight into Brian’s window, giving him the finger.
Justin has a sugar daddy~
Brian could see Justin’s cell phone light up with his text before the car drove off. The reply came half a minute later.
The only older guy who wants to give me money is you. Anthony says xoxo :)
He moved away from the window and after a while he noticed Daphne was watching him.
“Are you burning my dinner?” he asked.
“Oh no, I wouldn't. This is probably the only full meal you’ll have had this week.”
“Do I detect jealousy in your tone? Should've known you'd be like all those girls who hate me because I'm skinny and hot, a feat few women can pull off.”
“I could never hate you, Brian. Even when you say things like that, I always tell myself that it's because you were raised by wolves and you don't know how to behave.”
“And you wouldn't be far from the truth.”
She finished stacking his plate with eggs, veggies and bacon and even though they were breakfast dish and it was seven pm, he didn't protest, because it was his first full meal that day.
“So, Anthony,” he said conversationally. “What is Justin doing with a guy his age?”
Daphne raised her spatula and pointed it at Brian.
“Don't talk shit about Tony. That guy is a saint.”
“Which makes my question even more relevant: what is Justin doing with a guy like him?”
“Well, from what I caught them doing at least two times, a lot of un-saint-like stuff.”
“I'm eating here.” He threw his fork on the plate loudly. “Well, not anymore.”
“Oh, come on. Tony is thirty-two. That's not old. He doesn't even look that old. Why are you calling him old?”
“Please. Did you see what he's driving? That car screams 'I am desperately trying to hold onto my sexual peak since Woodstock '94.' When I'm his age, I'll be dead.”
Daphne smirked as she kept on chopping carrots. “He practically saved Justin's life, you know.”
Brian picked up his fork again and kept quiet because he knew she'd elaborate.
“When he moved out of your place, into his grandparents', he was devastated. He--” She cut herself off and Brian didn't let himself pry. She didn't think he should know something, it wasn't like he cared. “He was like a robot. Get out of bed, get to school, do homework, go to bed. I think the only reason he even started college was because... I don't know, he didn't care enough to do anything that hadn't already been planned for him. His mother was going out of her mind. You remember how she always tried to get him to a shrink, right?”
Brian shrugged. Not really a topic he planned on exploring when he asked an innocent question.
“She never managed to. It was like he didn't give a shit about anything that happened to him, but this was one thing he never budged on: no shrinks. It seemed to last forever, it was like we were counting down until something horrible would happen again. And then one day in September he comes home and he looks... alive. For the first time in nine freaking months. And day by day, he started getting better. It wasn't just that he went back to being Justin from before all that. He became stronger, more focused, more happy. I don't think I'd ever seen him really happy before, you know?”
“So... what you're saying is that old Tony is a drug dealer?”
She slapped his arm with a dish towel in frustration and that was that.
+
Daphne made great coffee, as opposed to Justin who always forgot Brian didn’t take milk in his black, and she whipped out her stash of non-instant, good coffee that Justin always seemed to conveniently forget about. Daphne also laughed when Brian made up stories about the mysterious Anthony, even though she always ended up calling Brian terrible. Brian didn’t mind that Daphne liked Anthony and that she looked at him curiously when she asked why he didn’t like the guy despite never meeting him in person.
The answer was obvious, so he just rolled his eyes and told her as much. Every gay guy who tried to fit into the hetero-normative lifestyle model by starting a “mature” relationship deserved to be ridiculed.
“Why don’t you make fun of Justin, then? He’s in that relationship too.”
“Who says I don’t make fun of him? It’s just less fun, because he always talks back. Or ignores me. God, I hate when people do that.”
“You’re hiding it very well, Brian,” she said dryly.
Just then the door swung open and Justin rushed in, flushed and winded.
“I’m so sorry, Brian,” he said, out of breath, pulling his jacket off.
“Look who’s here,” Brian commented. Justin was late even more than usual, it was already going on two hours.
“Dad forgot to tell me what they wanted the renovation crew to do in the guest bathroom upstairs and I couldn’t get him on the phone for nearly an hour and Jesus. I’m sorry you had to wait again. Hi, Daph.”
“You talked to your dad?”
“Yes.” Justin carried his stuff to his room, so Brian followed him.
He wondered if it was his business to ask, but he kind of asked out of reflex, “You okay?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” Justin squinted at him questioningly as he unwrapped his seven-league scarf from around his neck. “Well, I thought your father disowned you. And uh, that you didn’t want to see him again after he put you in a coma.”
Justin’s eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline. “He didn’t-What? I was never in a coma.”
“Uh, yes you were.” Brian still had Josh’s accusing voice in his ears, calling him a heartless bastard who had no sympathy for a possibly brain-damaged kid fresh out of a coma. “When you were… seventeen.”
Wait.
“No, I wasn’t. I had a sprained wrist and a concussion, but that’s all.”
Brian was questioning the need to admit he was fooled into obedience by a guilt-mongering friend with made-up stories.
It also made him wonder what other parts of Justin's life story he had wrong.
“My dad and I are alright… Well, obviously we have our differences, but that’s life, right? He pays my college tuition. He hasn’t disowned me. I hope? Because, to be completely honest, except from paying for college, he doesn't give me a cent for my 'lifestyle.' Which is actually why I asked you for money for this project. Not that you have to pay it, like I said, I don't mind either way.” He studied Brian’s face intently, so Brian busied himself with setting up his stuff. “Who told you I was in a coma?”
“Huh? No one.” Justin kept looking at him. “Can we please get started on the work?”
+
Even though there was no need for them to meet every evening, Brian was of the persuasion that every day needed to be grabbed by the balls and if you put shit off, you'll lose sight of it and then something will get in the way of accomplishing it.
Had it been up to Brian, they would've finished the work in five days. But after three days Justin realized they had a lot of time to spare and he allowed himself some slacking off.
Strangely, Brian realized he didn't mind wasting time with him, when one break in their work session ended up being five hours long. Even though the joint Justin offered him was laughable.
“What is this? Prescription weed? You college kids don't know how to have fun, do you? The world is going to shit.”
“It's not college kids,” Daphne said from her perch on the sofa backrest over Brian and Justin on the floor. “Just Justin. He doesn't even have normal friends, just super-serious Starving Artists.”
“At least my friends don't have to bail me out when I'm too high to find my way home and have to go to the police station to ask for directions.”
Daphne laughed. “Good times.”
“Daphne, should they ever de-legalize homosexuality again, will you be my beard?”
“Don't encourage her,” Justin said.
“Still, it's one of my biggest achievements that today we can have Justin, here, smoking a joint. Do you know what I had to do to convince him that marijuana wasn't going to kill him?”
“No.”
“A Powerpoint presentation. With graphs and citations.”
Brian burst out laughing, looking for the ashtray he'd last seen somewhere by the couch, probably.
“Well, considering my history of drug use, I think it's understandable that I'm somewhat wary of them,” Justin said defensively.
“You have a history of drug use?” Brian was all ears.
Justin frowned, regarding him for a few seconds. “Um, yeah? Did you forget?”
“Forget what?” Brian looked from Justin to Daphne, who suddenly seemed to sober up, hands going to her knees, posture stiff and eyes down. “What?”
“Two years ago. When I landed in the hospital. Right before I moved out of your place?”
Oh. “Oh, right. Didn't know.” Brian stubbed the rest of his joint in the ashtray he just found. It was actually a rather pretty saucer, with blue flowers and a gold rim that Brian found infinitely interesting. How elegantly it framed the embellished--
“Come on,” Justin said in exasperation. Like he couldn't believe they seemed to be upset at the topic being brought up. Like there were no dreadful memories associated with it. “It was two years ago, Daphne.”
Justin leaned forward, twisting around to look into Daphne's downturned face.
“I was having a party the day you dropped Justin off at my place,” Daphne said. “Because my parents were out of town and I'd planned it two weeks earlier and there were a lot of people invited. And. And--”
“And I was going to shut myself into a room upstairs, but I was drugged out of my mind and I couldn't stay there. I went downstairs at some point during the evening and I was looking for something to drink. So I open the fridge and I'm like 'oh, look, a bottle of Sprite!' and I drank half of it. Daphne.” He bumped her shoulder with his fist as she crossed her arms, looking away. “But yeah, it was mostly vodka. Which I didn't realize until I woke up in the hospital.”
And that was pretty much the only thing Brian needed to confirm that no, 'that time when you were scared of the dark and needed heavy medication that eventually almost killed you,' was not a good conversation topic. Sadly, it was also the only topic he and Justin had in common, except the project they were collaborating on. But, also sadly, Justin preferred working to talking about working. So exchanging ideas before he got to it, was as much conversation as they had on that matter.
The rest of the time, they couldn't deal with the semi-uncomfortable silence unless Daphne was there to fill the gap. Because Justin was about as good at small talk as Brian.
With Daphne, Brian could exchange memories of the times when they were too wasted to function and, pardon the gay cliche, talk about boys. And Justin liked to give her heated monologues about random people, like Dennis Minghelli who asked the dumbest questions in Art History, or the son of Debbie Novotny from the Liberty Diner, who kept dropping hints about that gay superhero comic book he was writing and not-so-secretly hoped Justin would draw for him. He didn't seem to get it that just because Justin could paint naked men like DaVinci himself, it didn't mean he could - or would - also produce a hundred frames of cities, monsters, contrived plot and silly poses.
But most of the time the three of them spent hanging out only served to wipe out Brian's delusion that it was possible to drop by after two years and expect to find everything the way he left it; that Justin would still be the kid who needed Brian and his attention. And Brian resented that, even though, honestly, if Justin had still been the person Brian had known back then, he probably wouldn't even want to be included in his life. Now that he wanted to, it was filled with people, occupations, dreams and goals that Brian had no way to fit into.
So that left Brian listening in on the two of them, making a mental map of Justin's social life. And sometimes, when he forgot to check himself, watching Justin speak. And if he got caught at it, he stared him down until Justin looked away, tracing invisible patterns on the furniture with his finger and sometimes biting down on a smile.
+
“I know what you're trying to do,” Daphne said, sucking the cherry off the toothpick from her Cosmo. “You want to get me drunk so that I tell you things I would never tell you otherwise.”
“And why would I need a reason to get you drunk? It's an end in itself.”
“Okay, ask me one question. But that's it. And I won't answer anything about Justin and Tony's private life.”
“Where’s this whole conspiracy theory coming from? Why on earth would I want to know anything about the neobreeders of the year?”
“But you want to know about Justin. So ask.”
He gauged how far gone she was. Not far enough to be unable to speak in full sentences, obviously. But far enough to imagine things that weren't there. Obviously.
“Come on, you didn't ask me out on a Saturday night to pretend to be the straight guy in a gay bar. I'm sure this isn't what you usually come here for. I can see the looks you're getting from practically everyone here.”
“Daphne. Hot, well-built, horny gay men who want in my pants will always be here. You are once in a lifetime.”
“Yes, and we're totally not here alone because you invited Justin in front of me and he turned you down, so you took me instead.”
“He didn't turn me down. He had other plans.”
“You know, if you'd asked two years ago, he wouldn't have. And even if he had, he'd drop them like a hot--”
Brian bit his lips.
“Ooops. The cat is out of the bag.” Daphne seemed to be looking for that cat on the floor of Woody's. “Although... it's never really been a secret, has it?”
He shook his head.
Truth be told, Brian invited Daphne because he wanted to hang out. It wasn't what she thought it was. Because what could he possibly ask her that he couldn't ask Justin and that wouldn't automatically be none of Brian's business? But later, that night turned out to be quite revealing. It was also the reason why a week later was the last time in the three years that followed when Daphne would speak to Brian.
-Next Part-
Stars Made of Paper
Genre: AU, non-h/c
Warnings: nothing more hardcore than canon, angst, Justin/OMC
Rating: hate to say it, but PG-13 for miles and miles, though Brian is a potty mouth!
Word count: this part: 2700
Beta: moonbrightnites who is an angel of the Lord and a saint and a superhero; all mistakes are mine.
A/N: This fic is for Sakesushimaki <3
Chapter 5 (part 1 of 2)
Is this man your uncle or...?
Brian hit ‘send’ before Justin even left the building. The guy waiting for him got out of the car and leaned against the passenger side. He had a well-worn leather jacket that looked about twenty years old, and not in the fashionable, vintage way. He needed a haircut.
He straightened up, seeing Justin come out, and smiled at him. They kissed, only lips and hands touching faces, but the kiss was intimate enough to make Brian uncomfortable. The boyfriend pulled away and went around to the driver side. Justin turned around and looked straight into Brian’s window, giving him the finger.
Justin has a sugar daddy~
Brian could see Justin’s cell phone light up with his text before the car drove off. The reply came half a minute later.
The only older guy who wants to give me money is you. Anthony says xoxo :)
He moved away from the window and after a while he noticed Daphne was watching him.
“Are you burning my dinner?” he asked.
“Oh no, I wouldn't. This is probably the only full meal you’ll have had this week.”
“Do I detect jealousy in your tone? Should've known you'd be like all those girls who hate me because I'm skinny and hot, a feat few women can pull off.”
“I could never hate you, Brian. Even when you say things like that, I always tell myself that it's because you were raised by wolves and you don't know how to behave.”
“And you wouldn't be far from the truth.”
She finished stacking his plate with eggs, veggies and bacon and even though they were breakfast dish and it was seven pm, he didn't protest, because it was his first full meal that day.
“So, Anthony,” he said conversationally. “What is Justin doing with a guy his age?”
Daphne raised her spatula and pointed it at Brian.
“Don't talk shit about Tony. That guy is a saint.”
“Which makes my question even more relevant: what is Justin doing with a guy like him?”
“Well, from what I caught them doing at least two times, a lot of un-saint-like stuff.”
“I'm eating here.” He threw his fork on the plate loudly. “Well, not anymore.”
“Oh, come on. Tony is thirty-two. That's not old. He doesn't even look that old. Why are you calling him old?”
“Please. Did you see what he's driving? That car screams 'I am desperately trying to hold onto my sexual peak since Woodstock '94.' When I'm his age, I'll be dead.”
Daphne smirked as she kept on chopping carrots. “He practically saved Justin's life, you know.”
Brian picked up his fork again and kept quiet because he knew she'd elaborate.
“When he moved out of your place, into his grandparents', he was devastated. He--” She cut herself off and Brian didn't let himself pry. She didn't think he should know something, it wasn't like he cared. “He was like a robot. Get out of bed, get to school, do homework, go to bed. I think the only reason he even started college was because... I don't know, he didn't care enough to do anything that hadn't already been planned for him. His mother was going out of her mind. You remember how she always tried to get him to a shrink, right?”
Brian shrugged. Not really a topic he planned on exploring when he asked an innocent question.
“She never managed to. It was like he didn't give a shit about anything that happened to him, but this was one thing he never budged on: no shrinks. It seemed to last forever, it was like we were counting down until something horrible would happen again. And then one day in September he comes home and he looks... alive. For the first time in nine freaking months. And day by day, he started getting better. It wasn't just that he went back to being Justin from before all that. He became stronger, more focused, more happy. I don't think I'd ever seen him really happy before, you know?”
“So... what you're saying is that old Tony is a drug dealer?”
She slapped his arm with a dish towel in frustration and that was that.
+
Daphne made great coffee, as opposed to Justin who always forgot Brian didn’t take milk in his black, and she whipped out her stash of non-instant, good coffee that Justin always seemed to conveniently forget about. Daphne also laughed when Brian made up stories about the mysterious Anthony, even though she always ended up calling Brian terrible. Brian didn’t mind that Daphne liked Anthony and that she looked at him curiously when she asked why he didn’t like the guy despite never meeting him in person.
The answer was obvious, so he just rolled his eyes and told her as much. Every gay guy who tried to fit into the hetero-normative lifestyle model by starting a “mature” relationship deserved to be ridiculed.
“Why don’t you make fun of Justin, then? He’s in that relationship too.”
“Who says I don’t make fun of him? It’s just less fun, because he always talks back. Or ignores me. God, I hate when people do that.”
“You’re hiding it very well, Brian,” she said dryly.
Just then the door swung open and Justin rushed in, flushed and winded.
“I’m so sorry, Brian,” he said, out of breath, pulling his jacket off.
“Look who’s here,” Brian commented. Justin was late even more than usual, it was already going on two hours.
“Dad forgot to tell me what they wanted the renovation crew to do in the guest bathroom upstairs and I couldn’t get him on the phone for nearly an hour and Jesus. I’m sorry you had to wait again. Hi, Daph.”
“You talked to your dad?”
“Yes.” Justin carried his stuff to his room, so Brian followed him.
He wondered if it was his business to ask, but he kind of asked out of reflex, “You okay?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” Justin squinted at him questioningly as he unwrapped his seven-league scarf from around his neck. “Well, I thought your father disowned you. And uh, that you didn’t want to see him again after he put you in a coma.”
Justin’s eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline. “He didn’t-What? I was never in a coma.”
“Uh, yes you were.” Brian still had Josh’s accusing voice in his ears, calling him a heartless bastard who had no sympathy for a possibly brain-damaged kid fresh out of a coma. “When you were… seventeen.”
Wait.
“No, I wasn’t. I had a sprained wrist and a concussion, but that’s all.”
Brian was questioning the need to admit he was fooled into obedience by a guilt-mongering friend with made-up stories.
It also made him wonder what other parts of Justin's life story he had wrong.
“My dad and I are alright… Well, obviously we have our differences, but that’s life, right? He pays my college tuition. He hasn’t disowned me. I hope? Because, to be completely honest, except from paying for college, he doesn't give me a cent for my 'lifestyle.' Which is actually why I asked you for money for this project. Not that you have to pay it, like I said, I don't mind either way.” He studied Brian’s face intently, so Brian busied himself with setting up his stuff. “Who told you I was in a coma?”
“Huh? No one.” Justin kept looking at him. “Can we please get started on the work?”
+
Even though there was no need for them to meet every evening, Brian was of the persuasion that every day needed to be grabbed by the balls and if you put shit off, you'll lose sight of it and then something will get in the way of accomplishing it.
Had it been up to Brian, they would've finished the work in five days. But after three days Justin realized they had a lot of time to spare and he allowed himself some slacking off.
Strangely, Brian realized he didn't mind wasting time with him, when one break in their work session ended up being five hours long. Even though the joint Justin offered him was laughable.
“What is this? Prescription weed? You college kids don't know how to have fun, do you? The world is going to shit.”
“It's not college kids,” Daphne said from her perch on the sofa backrest over Brian and Justin on the floor. “Just Justin. He doesn't even have normal friends, just super-serious Starving Artists.”
“At least my friends don't have to bail me out when I'm too high to find my way home and have to go to the police station to ask for directions.”
Daphne laughed. “Good times.”
“Daphne, should they ever de-legalize homosexuality again, will you be my beard?”
“Don't encourage her,” Justin said.
“Still, it's one of my biggest achievements that today we can have Justin, here, smoking a joint. Do you know what I had to do to convince him that marijuana wasn't going to kill him?”
“No.”
“A Powerpoint presentation. With graphs and citations.”
Brian burst out laughing, looking for the ashtray he'd last seen somewhere by the couch, probably.
“Well, considering my history of drug use, I think it's understandable that I'm somewhat wary of them,” Justin said defensively.
“You have a history of drug use?” Brian was all ears.
Justin frowned, regarding him for a few seconds. “Um, yeah? Did you forget?”
“Forget what?” Brian looked from Justin to Daphne, who suddenly seemed to sober up, hands going to her knees, posture stiff and eyes down. “What?”
“Two years ago. When I landed in the hospital. Right before I moved out of your place?”
Oh. “Oh, right. Didn't know.” Brian stubbed the rest of his joint in the ashtray he just found. It was actually a rather pretty saucer, with blue flowers and a gold rim that Brian found infinitely interesting. How elegantly it framed the embellished--
“Come on,” Justin said in exasperation. Like he couldn't believe they seemed to be upset at the topic being brought up. Like there were no dreadful memories associated with it. “It was two years ago, Daphne.”
Justin leaned forward, twisting around to look into Daphne's downturned face.
“I was having a party the day you dropped Justin off at my place,” Daphne said. “Because my parents were out of town and I'd planned it two weeks earlier and there were a lot of people invited. And. And--”
“And I was going to shut myself into a room upstairs, but I was drugged out of my mind and I couldn't stay there. I went downstairs at some point during the evening and I was looking for something to drink. So I open the fridge and I'm like 'oh, look, a bottle of Sprite!' and I drank half of it. Daphne.” He bumped her shoulder with his fist as she crossed her arms, looking away. “But yeah, it was mostly vodka. Which I didn't realize until I woke up in the hospital.”
And that was pretty much the only thing Brian needed to confirm that no, 'that time when you were scared of the dark and needed heavy medication that eventually almost killed you,' was not a good conversation topic. Sadly, it was also the only topic he and Justin had in common, except the project they were collaborating on. But, also sadly, Justin preferred working to talking about working. So exchanging ideas before he got to it, was as much conversation as they had on that matter.
The rest of the time, they couldn't deal with the semi-uncomfortable silence unless Daphne was there to fill the gap. Because Justin was about as good at small talk as Brian.
With Daphne, Brian could exchange memories of the times when they were too wasted to function and, pardon the gay cliche, talk about boys. And Justin liked to give her heated monologues about random people, like Dennis Minghelli who asked the dumbest questions in Art History, or the son of Debbie Novotny from the Liberty Diner, who kept dropping hints about that gay superhero comic book he was writing and not-so-secretly hoped Justin would draw for him. He didn't seem to get it that just because Justin could paint naked men like DaVinci himself, it didn't mean he could - or would - also produce a hundred frames of cities, monsters, contrived plot and silly poses.
But most of the time the three of them spent hanging out only served to wipe out Brian's delusion that it was possible to drop by after two years and expect to find everything the way he left it; that Justin would still be the kid who needed Brian and his attention. And Brian resented that, even though, honestly, if Justin had still been the person Brian had known back then, he probably wouldn't even want to be included in his life. Now that he wanted to, it was filled with people, occupations, dreams and goals that Brian had no way to fit into.
So that left Brian listening in on the two of them, making a mental map of Justin's social life. And sometimes, when he forgot to check himself, watching Justin speak. And if he got caught at it, he stared him down until Justin looked away, tracing invisible patterns on the furniture with his finger and sometimes biting down on a smile.
+
“I know what you're trying to do,” Daphne said, sucking the cherry off the toothpick from her Cosmo. “You want to get me drunk so that I tell you things I would never tell you otherwise.”
“And why would I need a reason to get you drunk? It's an end in itself.”
“Okay, ask me one question. But that's it. And I won't answer anything about Justin and Tony's private life.”
“Where’s this whole conspiracy theory coming from? Why on earth would I want to know anything about the neobreeders of the year?”
“But you want to know about Justin. So ask.”
He gauged how far gone she was. Not far enough to be unable to speak in full sentences, obviously. But far enough to imagine things that weren't there. Obviously.
“Come on, you didn't ask me out on a Saturday night to pretend to be the straight guy in a gay bar. I'm sure this isn't what you usually come here for. I can see the looks you're getting from practically everyone here.”
“Daphne. Hot, well-built, horny gay men who want in my pants will always be here. You are once in a lifetime.”
“Yes, and we're totally not here alone because you invited Justin in front of me and he turned you down, so you took me instead.”
“He didn't turn me down. He had other plans.”
“You know, if you'd asked two years ago, he wouldn't have. And even if he had, he'd drop them like a hot--”
Brian bit his lips.
“Ooops. The cat is out of the bag.” Daphne seemed to be looking for that cat on the floor of Woody's. “Although... it's never really been a secret, has it?”
He shook his head.
Truth be told, Brian invited Daphne because he wanted to hang out. It wasn't what she thought it was. Because what could he possibly ask her that he couldn't ask Justin and that wouldn't automatically be none of Brian's business? But later, that night turned out to be quite revealing. It was also the reason why a week later was the last time in the three years that followed when Daphne would speak to Brian.
-Next Part-