Bleeding Emotions

Chapter 11

Brian would not let a tear fall from his eyes until he reached the park. He got out of his jeep and grabbed his guitar out of the back. The moon was full and high in the sky, providing adequate light for him to find his way to the bank of the stream. Once he made it, he sunk down to the grass and buried his swollen face into his hands. It was only then that he let the tears flow.

A father was supposed to love unconditionally. They were supposed to love, period. It wasn't supposed to be this way. A child wasn't supposed to feel worthless and unloved. Brian cried harder, the pain in his body not come close to matching the intensity of the ache in his heart. Nothing he did was ever good enough. He wasn't good enough. They'd never be proud. He'd never be loved. He'd never be...anything.

Brian's sobs filled the empty night sky.

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"What the fuck do you want?" Justin shouted into the receiver. His entire body was shaking. "Leave me alone!"

"Now Justin," the voice admonished. "Is that any way to talk to your dear old dad?"

"Fuck you."

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Brian wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. This is what his life had become. This is what he had to look forward to. What had he done? What could he do? What would make things any better?

Nothing. He was a worthless piece of shit, that he was sure of.

Years and years of crippling abuse piled themselves on top of each other inside of him, like a set of building blocks he never owned. It was a shaky tower of pain and misery.

The tower was about to fall.

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"What are you doing back in town, Justin?" Craig demanded angrily. "Your mother saw you the other day and informed me of your unwelcome presence. Luckily, you were right there in the phone book. Again, what the fuck are you doing in Pittsburgh? I told you to stay in Seattle."

"Seattle isn't my home. Pittsburgh is. I moved here a year ago."

"Well move back."

"Why? So your faggot son is clear across the country?" Justin spat out. His fear was quickly dissolving into anger.

"You damn near put me out of business! It was in every paper, that little incident of yours."

"Little incident? He's fucking <i>dead</i>, dad! They killed him and they tried to kill me too!"

Justin threw the cordless phone against the wall so hard that it shattered.

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Brian pulled his guitar case over to his side. He flipped the top up and pulled out a notebook, complete with a book light. The last few years of spending the majority of his free time in a house with no electricity, he had learned to be prepared. He flipped the notebook open to a new page and clipped on the light.

He took a pen from the case and let the lyrics flow onto the page. Verses of sadness, a chorus to kill.

This was his pain management.

This was how he coped.

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Justin sat sobbing on the couch. Baseball bats. Cold steel. Warm blood. Dead, lifeless eyes.

The visions wouldn't stop.

He stood up and screamed, and then picked up his glass of water and threw it at the kitchen wall. It shattered and rained down in a flurry of shards. The light reflected off of the glass and for a second Justin was mesmerized by it. Beauty in chaos.

He knew he couldn't be alone right now.

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Brian was vaguely aware of his phone vibrating in the back pocket of his jeans. He ignored it and wiped his eyes as he went back to capturing his emotions in messy scrawl.

As long as he had this, he would be ok.

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"You've reached the infamous Brian Kinney. If you are one of the select few that I would like to dedicate my time to, press one. Everyone else, press end."

Justin smiled at the sound of Brian's voice, even if it was a recording. He pressed end. He couldn't think of anything to say without coming off as needy.

He slid his phone back in his pocket and leaned back against the couch. It was only a few minutes before he remembered the most relaxing place he'd been in years.

He was behind the wheel of his car within minutes.

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Brian pulled his guitar from its case and cradled it gently in his lap. He winced at the dried blood on his hands. He set the guitar down and walked to the edge of the stream. He got down on his knees and leaned over the water. The moon was so bright. He looked down to see his reflection in the water. It was too dark to see the full extent of his injuries. He stared at his shadowed face for a few moments before swiping his hand across the surface of the still water, smashing the image.

He dipped his hands into the water and rubbed the blood off. He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans before returning to his spot in the grass. He placed his beloved instrument in his lap and began to pluck out a tune for his new song.

Within minutes, he had a song.

Now all that was left was to play it.

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Justin pulled into the parking lot of the city park. He climbed out of the driver's seat and walked between the trees to the path Brian had shown him.

He didn't notice Brian's jeep parked on the street.  He walked slowly down the path, the cool night air clinging to his body. He stopped when he thought he heard a voice.

He heard the strum of a guitar and his heart sped up.

Brian.

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Tears welled up in Brian's eyes as he played the first few bars of his song. He opened his mouth to sing but nothing came out. He leaned down and rested his forehead against the cool surface of his guitar as he unleashed more tears. The tears fell from his eyes and etched themselves into the grain of his guitar.

He sat back up and took a deep breath. He was going to play this song.

He placed his fingers on the strings and began to play. His voice was raw, soft, and full of emotion.

Dearly beloved

We're gathered here to mourn

The death of the young one

The death of your first born

And he tried, tried to understand

Why his lungs gave out

When his last dying words went out from them

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Justin's jaw dropped as he heard Brian sing and play. His voice was so…raw. Justin leaned against a tree and kept his eyes trained on Brian's back. He could just barely see the side of his face as he sang.

He could see the younger man's shoulders shake as he played. His voice cracked with emotion but he played on.

Something was wrong.

The words Brian sang stung Justin's heart.

It isn't enough

For your family

It isn't enough

For your father

But is it enough

To break your spirits

And he's breaking

Like a thousand windows

But he's on the pane

That keeps the glass from hitting the floor

Justin sunk to the ground, tears running silently down his cheeks. Brian was feeling the same pain he was. Brian didn't cope with paints and easels. He didn't spend hours creating canvases, and then even longer trying to scrub the stains from his fingers.

The art Brian created was even more beautiful to Justin.

The song was fast, melodic and consistent. His voice got louder as the song progressed. Justin watched, entranced and unable to move.

He's the kind of guy you wish would just leave

He wears his heart on his sleeve

You won't see any pictures

With the whole family

He doesn't wait, he just goes

Out of control, before the cops know

A man who can kill

Two stones with one bird

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Brian was oblivious to his audience as he played from his heart. Tears fell from his eyes and landed on his hands as he played. His stomach and ribs ached as he sang, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Please step back from that highway

Don't you see it goes my way

Please step back from that highway

If you're number eight

Then he's number nine

It adds up half the time

A teller with no fortune

A body left out to find

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Justin wiped his eyes as the tears flowed freely. His heart was breaking. All he wanted to do was hold Brian in his arms.

It isn't enough

For your family

It isn't enough

For your father

But is it enough

To break your spirits

He's kind of like the wind

You can't see it, but you feel it

And that's the only way

You know he's there

And how can you leave

A place you've never been to

Or run away from something

That's not chasing

And it never was

Please step back from that highway

Don't you see it goes my way

Please step back from that highway

Justin watched as Brian set his guitar back in the case and began to cry. He immediately got to his feet and walked over to the younger man. Brian heard the footsteps and turned around to face Justin. Brian's face revealed the shock and surprise Justin was feeling. The blond gasped as he saw the wounds marring his perfect face.

"Brian, what happened to you?" Justin asked softly. Brian got to his feet and Justin cringed when he saw Brian wince and hold his ribs.

"It looks like I can ask you the same question," Brian replied. Justin closed the distance between them and put his hand on Brian's bruised cheek.

"I had a bad day," Justin whispered as he stared into Brian's eyes.

"Me too."

All thoughts of horrible fathers were forgotten when their tear stained lips met in a passionate kiss.

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