Bleeding Emotions

Chapter 3

"Sunshine, is that you?" Debbie asked, quickly closing the distance between Justin and herself. Justin shot Daphne a quick nervous smile. He ran his hand through his hair and crossed him arms over his chest in a defensive gesture.

"Hey Deb," he said brightly. His eyes widened as he realized Debbie was about to engulf him in a hug. His body involuntary tensed and he took a deep breath to try to calm himself as he returned the hug. Debbie felt his body trembling in her grasp and she quickly let him go, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"How long have you been back in town?" Debbie asked. Justin looked around sheepishly, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"A year," he muttered.

"What?" Debbie yelled, shocked.

"I moved back a year ago, and I spent that time getting readjusted, and dealing with school. I lost myself in my art. I'm sorry I didn't come see you. I haven't seen much of anyone."

"It's true," Daphne added. "He just got back into the dating scene. And I'm forcing him to go out with us on Friday night."

"Its ok, kiddo. I'm just so glad to see you." She smiled at him and Justin returned it. He had missed her intensely. She was always there for him when he needed her. But after all that had happened, he just didn't want to submerge himself back in that world too soon. "Expecting someone?" Daphne turned to face Deb, tearing her eyes from the door.

"No, just wondering who that delicious morsel that held the door open for me was," Daphne replied.

"Oh, that was another one of my sons. Michael's best friend, Brian. Sweetest boy you'll ever meet." She turned her gaze to Justin. "And you would have met him if you ever came to family dinner or came to the diner other than when you were ditching school." Justin just shrugged and he and Daphne sat down at the diner to order.

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Brian woke up on Friday morning with a yawn and a stretch. He lay naked in his bed, refusing to open his eyes. His sheets had never felt softer, his blanket had never been warmer, and his pillow had never been more comfortable. He never wanted to move. He shifted and the comforter slipped from his lean body, exposing his muscular back. He moaned in protest as the cold morning air caused goose bumps to rise on his sleep warmed skin. He pulled the blanket up over his body and curled into a little ball. His skin felt hot, even to his own touch. His morning wood was pressed firmly against the sheets and he shifted his hips a little, grinding it into the mattress.

He grumbled to himself as he flipped over onto his back and stared at the rafters. He was in the old house. He slept there most nights, ever since he had earned enough money working at the diner to buy his own bed. The old house did turn out to be two stories. The second story was more of a loft area, and Brian had to use a ladder to get up to it. It was a hassle bringing up each piece of the bed piece by piece, but with the help of his four best friends, he managed to create the bedroom he always wanted.

Brian opened his eyes and looked out the small circular window. The sky was still dark gray, and mist settled among the trees. Brian smiled to himself, knowing he still had a few hours before the alarm on his cell phone went off. He still had no electricity in the house.

He settled back against his bed and let his fingertips dance along his chest and stomach, enjoying the feel of his burning skin beneath his fingers. He outlined his subtle abs before sliding his hand downwards, inching closer to his half flaccid member.

His fingers ran along his shaft, idly tracing the veins. He wrapped his long fingers around his thick cock and lazily began to stroke it to full hardness. Pre-cum bubbled from the slit and he moaned softly, kicking his blankets to the floor. His mind wandered to the blowjob he received in the backseat of his car from a guy he picked up on one of his rare trips to Babylon. He remembered watching his dick slide in and out of the eager mouth. He closed his fist tighter around his aching member and let his thumb glide over his slit. His nerve endings tingled and his body trembled. He was close. He moaned and arched off the bed as he shot his load, his seed coating his fingers and dappling his toned chest. He collapsed back on the bed and caught his breath as he cleaned himself with a tissue from his nightstand.

He sighed deeply and pulled the comforter back over his panting body. He sunk back into the pillows, a small smile playing across his lips. His eyelids grew heavy and slid shut, leaving him to slip into the dreamy darkness of unconsciousness for a few more hours of sleep.

At eight in the morning, Brian's cell phone started producing a loud, shrill beep. Over and over. Brian groaned and reached out to silence the offending cell phone. He sat up in bed and stretched, his muscles rippling beneath his golden skin. He got up out of bed and started to climb down the ladder to the main floor of the cold house. Halfway down the ladder he remembered he was dreading today for some reason. Chemistry test. He climbed down a few more rungs. No. Chemistry test and open mic night.

He groaned as he climbed all the way down, his bare feet touching cold hardwood. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair and walked into his small bathroom, thanking whoever was up there that he had hot water. He turned up the hot water in his shower and climbed behind the plain white shower curtain. He stepped under the scalding water and sighed as the heat penetrated his skin and soothed his muscles. He soaped himself up and shampooed his chestnut locks, washing any evidence of dirt down the drain.

He leaned against the wall, letting the hot water beat down on him, caressing him with its intimate touch. The beads of water traveled down his body in thin rivets, pooling on the tile and dying on their way down the drain. Brian sighed and ran his hand over his stomach, soothing the knot that had been there for almost a week. Tonight he would share his secret with dozens of strangers. Tonight he would take a stage for the first time in his life, and all eyes would be on him. He'd pour his heart and soul out through his fingertips and vocal chords, opening himself for all to see. No amount of preparing could ready him for that moment.

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked over to the counter and put his hands on it, leaning all his weight on his arms. He stared into the mirror. He had bought the mirror years ago, as the house had not been equipped with one. The gleaming mirror contrasted with the dirty, rundown walls of the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, locking eyes with his reflection. His nervousness grew, clawing at his insides like a caged animal. He lowered his head and took several deep breaths, calming himself. He toweled his hair dry and carefully shaved his face with trembling hands.

He exited the bathroom with a sigh and strode over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a slipped into them, forgoing underwear as usual. He pulled a tight red tee on and sat down on the floor to pull on socks and his red high tops. He sighed again as he tied his shoes, hating his feet being anything other than bare. He stood up and climbed back up to his bed to retrieve his cell phone, wallet, and keys. He started his descent down the ladder, dropping to the floor half way down.

Brian stepped out onto the porch and locked the door with the key from his neck. He started down the narrow trail, worn down by the feet of him and his friends. He breathed in the cool morning air, the breeze ruffling his wet hair. He quickly maneuvered the trail with ease, dodging stray boulders and fallen limbs. As he approached the main house, he rubbed his jaw, soothing a phantom pain that was still lingering from a punch he'd received a few nights earlier. At least it didn't bruise.

He pulled open the heavy back door and let himself into the kitchen, where his mother, father, and little sister Claire were sitting around a small table. Neither party acknowledged the other, and Brian bounded up the stairs. He slipped into the bathroom and blow-dried his hair, mussing it up perfectly.

He hurried back down the stairs. His movements in the main house were always very quick and guarded. Every muscle was tense and his eyes were always roaming. He felt like prey being hunted in what was supposed to be his own home. He was the prey, and his father was the predator.

He strode into the kitchen with his back straight and his chin up. He made himself some toast and poured a glass of juice. He stood at the counter with his back to his family and ate his meager breakfast. Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He turned to come face to face with his father.

"Hey Sonny Boy," Jack muttered smugly. "Too good to eat breakfast with your family?" Brian shook his head. Jack reached out and grabbed Brian's chin with his grubby fingers. Brian forced himself not to flinch. He narrowed his eyes at his father and knew the old man felt his jaw trembling when he let out a low chuckle. Jack gave Brian a light slap on the cheek and sat back down. Brian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and closed his eyes, cursing himself for letting the bastard get to him as much as he did.

He grabbed his backpack and walked out the front door, gripping his keys tight in his hand. He got into his beaten up old Jeep and started it up. He rested both hands and his forehead against the steering wheel, feeling the gentle vibrations against his skin. He shook his head and blared his music as he took off towards the school.

In homeroom, all Lindsay could talk about was the upcoming show. It didn't calm his nerves at all. Chemistry wasn't much better.

"Ready for tonight, mate?" Graham asked straight off.

"No," was Brian's simple reply.

"You'll be fabulous," Michael reassured him. Brian sighed and was actually happy when their teacher handed out the test. It distracted him and his friends from the night's events and calmed his sense of impending doom.

Economics class was even more boring than usual. The clock ticked on at a snail's pace, pounding into Brian's brain relentlessly. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Brian was restless. He squirmed in his seat, shifting nervously. The night crept ever closer, and he was so nervous he felt sick. The teacher went on in a monotone voice, never showing emotion, never wavering. Brian looked down at the pages of his textbook, the words blurring together as he yawned. Supply and demand didn't interest him; his mind was in a whole other place.

His forehead was creased with worry lines and he was steadily gnawing on his bottom lip. He was so zoned out that he didn't feel the incessant tapping on his shoulder.

"Brian!" He looked up to see the other students moving about the classroom. The teacher was sitting behind his desk, tapping away on his computer. Brian looked to his left and saw Ally McMasters batting her thick mascara encrusted eyelashes at him. He rolled his eyes.'Here we go again.'

"What do you want, Ally?" Brian asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Ally McMasters made it no secret that she lusted over Brian. She was wearing a short black mini-skirt and a tiny blue tank top, her long platinum blonde hair tumbling down her back. She tapped her manicured nails on the desk and made sure to make her glossy lips look extra plump. She stunk of expensive perfume and Daddy's money. She was fake, conceited, and spoiled rotten. Brian and his friends couldn't stand her.

"Want to be my partner?" Ally asked, licking her lips for emphasis. Brian looked around the room, seeing that everyone else had already been paired up. Four best friends and not a single one of them were in his Economics class. Fucking luck.

"Fine." Ally smiled and moved her desk right up to Brian's, leaning over to look at the textbook, trying to give Brian a good look down her shirt. Brian looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Brian read the assignment from the board and quickly got to work, scribbling down notes in his binder. He jumped as he felt Ally lean forward and place her hand on his thigh.

"My parents are going out of town this weekend," she whispered. She was so close that Brian felt her hot breath in his ear and he shuddered in disgust. Ally took this as a good sign and leaned in even closer, much to Brian's dismay. "I'm having a party tomorrow night. You should come."

"Sorry. I have plans." He picked up her hand and placed it on the desk and forced a smile at her.

"Well, come over after. I'll be up all night." She placed her hand back on his thigh and ran it upwards towards his groin. He grabbed her hand again and placed it back on her desk yet again. Brian sighed deeply. There was no way he could put up with this for another year.

"No."

"Why not?" She asked, pouting like the spoiled little bitch she was.

"I'm gay," he said flatly, not looking up from his notes. Ally laughed.

"Shut up, Brian. What time are you coming over?"

"Seriously, I'm a big fat queer." Brian tried hard not to smile. The bell rang and he shoved everything in his book bag and strode out of the room. He was all the way out to the grass, taking quick steps to where he met the gang for lunch before he realized Ally was right on his heels. He rolled his eyes for the fiftieth time that day.

"Brian, stop kidding around." Ally giggled and he turned to face her. He smiled wide when he saw Michael approaching over her shoulder. Neither he nor Michael gave a flying fuck about who knew about their sexuality. When Michael walked up to Brian the taller man slung his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Michael, please tell Ally that I'm a flaming homo." Brian gave Michael a devious smirk that was met with mischievous eyes. Michael turned to face her, his hand running across Brian's taut stomach.

"It's true. He's as gay as the day is long," Michael replied, holding back a giggle. Ally's smile faltered and she crossed her arms over her chest, furrowing her brows. When she began to protest Brian pulled Michael into a kiss, just letting his lips linger on his for a long moment. Ally let out a frustrated growl and spun around on her heels, stomping off in the opposite direction. Michael looked up into Brian's eyes with a mock expression of pure adoration. "Why Brian, I had no idea!" Brian laughed and playfully pushed him away.

The two boys turned and came face to face with their three snickering friends. They all sat down in their usual spot, relaxing in the shade of the old oak. Juliana lay down and rested her head in Graham's lap. He instinctively ran his fingers through her soft hair. Michael pulled two small Tupperware containers from his bag and passed one to Brian. He peeled off the lid to reveal Debbie's spaghetti. He took a fork from Michael and dug in.

"So it looks like you don't have to deal with Slutty McSkank anymore, Bri," Graham commented as his fingertip idly traced his girlfriend's cheekbone and jaw line. They all laughed at the familiar nickname for the annoying cheerleader.

"Thank god," Brian replied.

"I can't stand her." Lindsay shook her head and took a bite out of her green apple.

"I second that," Juliana added as she clasped her fingers with Graham's. Brian watched the happy couple, wondering when he would find someone.

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"I don't know what to wear, Daph!" Justin called from his bedroom. Daphne wandered in and leaned against the doorframe.

"What you're wearing now would be sure to impress," she said flatly. Justin looked down. He was clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs.

"Very funny. Seriously, help me."

"Justin, it's not the Academy Awards." She walked over to his closet and pulled out a gorgeous baby blue sweater and a pair of black cargo pants. "Ta da! Now get dressed. We'll be late."

Justin rolled his eyes as Daphne flopped down onto his bed. He quickly pulled on the clothes she had selected and surveyed himself in the mirror. Even he had to admit, he looked good. He fixed his blonde hair and sat down to pull on his shoes. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"That's Emmett!" Daphne jumped up and Justin followed her. Justin grabbed his wallet and slipped it into his back pocket as Daphne opened the door and ushered Emmett inside. "Hello gorgeous!"

"Oh Daph, you're too kind. And look at you!" He took her hand and twirled her around. "You look fabulous! All those straight boys are lucky." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. Justin turned and smiled at him. "Hey Jus, you look hot!"

"Thanks, Em. You too."

"Well are you kids ready to hit the club?" They nodded and they trooped out of the apartment.

They walked into Transitions a little before seven, which was when the show was set to start. The club was small and trendy, a sea of tables with a bar in the middle that served everything from cappuccino to Beam. A stage took up the back wall, raised about three feet from the ground.

Justin hung back behind his two friends. Emmett frequented the club often and seemed to know everyone. He made his way to a table near the front where four teenagers were sitting.

"Well if it isn't my favorite club kids!" Emmett greeted them. They all looked up at the flamboyant man and smiled. A guy with black and purple hair stood up and gave Emmett a hug.

"Hey mate, how goes it?"

"Just dandy. I want you guys to meet my friends. This is Justin and Daphne." He gestured to the two and stood between them. "Guys, this is Graham and his gorgeous girlfriend Juliana, and this is Michael, and our resident artist Lindsay. Justin is an artist, too." Justin blushed and they all nodded to each other. Emmett turned back towards Graham. "Where's your Irish counterpart?"

"You'll never believe it," Graham told him. "He's backstage. He's going to play!"

"No! You're shitting me."

"I shit you not, mate. Poor bloke, though. He's got the jitters like I've never seen." At that moment, the lights dimmed and a girl with blue hair and a little black dress walked on stage. Emmett, Justin, and Daphne sat down at the empty table next to Graham's.

"Hey ladies and gents," the announcer started. "Transitions is please to welcome you to our first ever open mic night. We have a lot of talent here tonight, and we hope you all enjoy." She announced the first act. Four guys dragged their instruments on stage to set them up.

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Brian paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail. The band on stage wailed on, the music pounding into Brian's brain. His guitar hung from his back by a black leather strap. The neck of the beloved instrument caressed his left shoulder and the base of the guitar was a comfortable and familiar weight against the back of his firm thighs. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it. Blood rushed behind his eyes, pulsing in his ears.

The fear he felt was overwhelming and complete. He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

He had to.

He was sick of always backing down. He wanted to do something that would make or break him, for once. He wanted to stand up and shout "Fuck you!" to all his fears.

He swung his guitar around to the front and strummed each string, making sure it was in tune for the hundredth time. He took several deep breaths; he gulped down a bottle of water. Nothing helped. His nerves were frazzled. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely put the cap back on the water bottle, let alone hold a pick.

He leaned against the cool brick wall and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. A few more acts took the stage, playing their hearts out. It was all background noise to Brian's thrashing heart.

"Next up we have someone very beloved to us here at Transitions. He's here all the time, and we just adore him."

Brian opened his eyes and took a few steps forward to look out from side stage. Megs was making his introduction. It was time. His knees felt like jelly and his throat went dry.

"Here he is making his performance debut, Brian Kinney!"

Brian stood there for a few seconds, steeling himself. Finally, he walked out onstage, keeping his eyes locked on Megs. Once he reached her she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Brian smiled and took a seat on the stool provided for him. He adjusted the microphone to his height and took a deep breath before raising his eyes to the crowd. The light was blinding, making most of the crowd silhouettes. He looked to the front row and smiled as his friends cheered and clapped. He scanned to the right and his eyes landed on a man with blonde hair and breathtaking blue eyes.

When the man looked up and blue eyes met hazel ones, he forgot he was nervous.

He forgot he was on stage at all.

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