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38 Days
Chapter 13 of "Where There's Heat"
Brian and I only speak to one another when we absolutely have to. I do work for him, at the end of the day avoiding him would be impossible. We sit in meetings together, we swap emails, he approves and disapproves of my work. But nothing more. I’d be a fucking liar if I said that my heart didn’t bend and swell a little every time he walked out of a room. I watch the back of his head like a lost puppy and then remind myself that I chose this path. I gave him the ultimatum.
I really thought we were past all that. I was shocked that morning last month when he slipped right back into being the old Brian. I guess people really don’t change, and maybe I always knew that. Maybe I just prayed that he had it in him, deep down, to get over his shit and be happy. That’s honestly all I want, for Brian to be happy.
It’s been five or six weeks I guess (who am I kidding, it’s been 38 days) since we broke up. Though I don’t even know I’d call it a break up, we weren’t ever really together. But I know it feels like something broke, it feels like I lost something.
I do love him. I wasn’t bullshitting when I said that. I mean really, if you’re gonna tell Brian Kinney of all people you’re in love you better be fucking goddamned completely sure. I knew that would be the clincher, the final straw, the deal breaker. I knew all of that and I said it anyway, took the risk. I needed him to know I loved him. Love him. I do love him. I will love him.
*****
On Friday nights I go to the Boiler Room. It’s close to my place and it’s always got a mixed crowd. I like the DJ, Sam, I know him a little. Well I fucked him once, but we’re pretty friendly. My routine is the same, I take a few drink offers, dance with anyone who turns me on, usually let someone blow me in the bathroom and then I head home.
I’m not in the game like I used to be, though I never really was in it all the way. I like the scene, like the subculture, like being gay, but I am looking for a little more than most of them. What I had with Brian was good, it was better than all that had come before. It was intense and interesting and stimulating and never boring. It was a little maddening even on the best days and always kept me guessing. I didn’t mean to fall in love, but when I admitted it to myself I was okay with it. I don’t even know if he needed to love me back, or whether he ever would have, but he had to be honest with me.
I’m young but I’ve learned a lot about relationships. Some of mine were great, a couple were really fucked up, nearly all of them ended badly. They taught me what I needed and didn’t need and what I could tolerate and what I couldn’t. I had to put it all into practice with Brian every second of every fucking day. I had to tap reserves of strength and patience and understanding that I didn’t know I had. I also had to find the strength and energy and perseverance within myself to keep up with him, in bed and otherwise. It was challenging, I’ve always loved a challenge. And in the end it was nearly perfect, but not quite.
I know it’s not me that fucked it up, so all I can do is move on. It’s hard seeing him every day though, running through the what ifs every time he’s in the room. I wonder too much about whether or not he thinks about me...us. My biggest fear is finding out that I’m an afterthought. Some junior at his firm that he fucked a few times.
That’s why I put my resume out a few weeks ago, I realized moving on before I was thrown out was right for the relationship and for the job. Always better to control your fate rather than someone else doing it.
*****
Jim’s the Creative Director and my boss. It feels strange to know that I’ll be giving my letter of resignation to him and not to Brian. But, I have to remain professional if nothing else and that is the chain of command.
He can tell from the moment I walk into his office what’s coming.
He motions for me to close the door, “You’re leaving me for greener pastures, eh?”
I smile at him and take a seat, “Jim you’ve been amazing, the things you’ve taught me…”
He cuts me off, “Quit it kid, you’ve been great. I’d recommend you to any shop in the city. Though it seems you didn’t need to me to land a plum spot at Ogilvy. Brian’s gonna shit when he hears who you’re going to. He hates those bitches. Really it’s jealousy, but you know…”
Jim and I share a knowing smile, I place the letter on his desk. “I do want you to know how much I appreciate how kind and patient you’ve been. I was so lucky to get this spot right out of the gate. I couldn’t have asked for a better first job, or first boss. I’m sorry I have to leave.”
“Have to?” Jim leans back in his seat and studies me.
“Well, you know, it feels like that.” I’m careful with my words.
Jim nods, “I know more than you think kid, and I get it. Hard to stick around and deal with him now I’m sure. But, I wish you the best of luck. And for what it’s worth, when he was with you he was a fuck of a lot easier to deal with.”
My jaw drops and I watch Jim stand. He rounds his desk and embraces me. I think about how lucky his kids are to have such a warm father, even if he works too much.
We say our final goodbyes and I head back to my desk, bracing myself against the inevitable.
*****
“You’re fucking kidding me with this shit!” Brian slams the letter down on my desk, I hurry to end my personal phone call.
I look up at him, I try not to let the fear show in my eyes. My decision’s been made and I feel confident about everything I’ve done, but Brian still makes my nerves catch fire.
“My office, now,” he stalks back down the hall. I know every pair of eyes in the office are on me. I am so grateful for the conference call that has ten people tied up in a room where they likely missed that outburst.
I follow him into his office and shut the door, “Brian….Mr. Kinney…shit.” I sit down.
He sits behind his desk, he folds his hands on top of his desk and he watches me. After a few long moments, “Yes, please continue, I would love an explanation.”
“It’s hard. This has been an amazing job. Personal stuff aside, you’ve taught me so much. I’ll miss Jim so bad it sucks and the team is…they’re great. But, it’s time for me to move on.”
“Time for you to move on?” He stands and I flinch, “What, am I gonna punch you?” He shakes his head.
“Yeah, it’s just better I think. Don’t you think?”
“Do I look like I think it’s better? I can’t lose you to fucking Ogilvy. They’re so goddamned superior already. You’re the best thing my creative departments seen in a long time. Against all of my better judgment I hired you and then I kept you through the ten times I told myself to fire you and this is what I get!” He throws himself onto the leather couch that sits against the far wall in his office. He puts a hand up to the bridge of his nose and squeezes. He’s getting a headache, Brian gets really incredible headaches once in a while. I’d say they’re migraines, he denies it.
“Where’re your pills?” I walk behind his desk and open a few drawers. He doesn’t answer me. I riffle through drawer after drawer, keep watching him out of the corner of my eye. I can tell it’s a bad one, he doesn’t have the strength to keep yelling at me.
I find the pills amidst a barrage of shit in the bottom drawer. Just prescription pain killers he got off some doctor he fucked a while back, but they help a lot. He got a few headaches when we were together, they’d wake him up out of a deep sleep. I’d have to sit up with him and try to take his mind off it until the pills kicked in.
I grab the pills bottle and my finger brushes a familiar material, I realize a photograph is face down right underneath. Without thinking I flip it over.
It’s us.
About three months ago Brian threw this amazing party for a client and insisted most of the office staff attend. It was a black tie optional thing in midtown on the roof of some gorgeous building. We both had too much champagne and kept pawing each other even though we were always really careful about anyone finding out. Someone must have snapped a photo of us that night. We’re laughing and Brian’s hand is on the back of my neck. He’s looking at me with…admiration…or something close to it.
My gut tenses and I close the drawer quickly. It’s funny how the smallest thing can change your mind about someone.
I sit down next to him on the couch, hand him a couple pills and a bottle of water, “You probably won’t be able to drive yourself home now.”
“Don’t have the car with me, it’s a nice day I walked,” he takes the pills and leans his head back on the couch. I put the water on the floor and just sit back next to him.
I wait a long time, I look through the cracks in the blinds and watch people pass in the hall outside. I laugh to myself about how insane it must be driving everyone that I’ve been in here so long. Most of them probably think he’s eaten me alive, a few of the smarter ones probably think we’re having a farewell fuck.
Brian finally sighs and opens his eyes, the worst has passed.
“Hey,” I softly touch his leg and draw his attention to me, “Gonna be okay?”
He half smiles, “I won’t die.” We stare for a long moment, we both know we’re not talking about the headache anymore.
He starts to get off the couch but I stop hold his arm so he can’t get up, “Wait.”
He raises his eyebrows, making a classic Kinney face.
“I just,” I look to the ground, “I want you to know I meant everything I said back then. And…I don’t know…I wish it were easier for you.”
When I look back up his face has changed, it’s intense now. I’m probably holding my breath waiting for him to say something, seems that’s how it always was.
I finally get up when it's clear nothing's coming, “I’ll work through the end of the month of course. I’ll try to make things easy for Jim.”
I get to the door before he stops me, “Justin.”
Hand on the knob, I turn to face him. The scene is all too familiar.
He gets up and crosses the room to me, “Don’t go.”
“I already took the job,” I furrow my brow, “I have to.”
“Fuck the job. I don’t care if you take the job. I’m not talking about the job. Just…don’t go.”
Oh…oh.
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