Justin sat at his desk in his studio apartment in Chicago. He was adding the finishing touches to the drawing he had been working on. It was a commission for a mural in a new store going in downtown, an upscale women's clothing store that would be the second in the newly expanding chain of stores. The owners had high hopes for the growth of their company, and based on the success of their first store they seemed to be right on with their projections.

The drawing is part of a series of pictures of a woman, beginning nude and with each successive drawing layering on clothing as she gets ready for a ball. The figure is slightly abstract to begin with, just enough to make the model unrecognizable and the nude body discreet enough not to offend. However, the nature of the body is clear to the observer. The woman is beautiful and will be even more beautiful as she dresses and perfumes herself in preparation for her evening out. Each succeeding incarnation of the woman becomes a little clearer. The final figure in the progression is fully in focus and more dramatic than any of the preceding figures. She looks stunning.

Justin smiled as he looked critically at his handiwork. He was pleased with the results and hoped the store owners would like it as well.

He decided that was enough for now. He had taught himself through many unfortunate mistakes to leave well enough alone. There came a point in all of his work when it made him smile. He had been trying to teach himself to stop at that point and leave it alone. He always wanted to add to it and change it, make it better, being the perfectionist that he was. Over the last two years he had trained himself to stop when his work made him smile. That was the indicator of when it was at its best.

Justin closed the sketchbook and tossed it on top of the pile of sketchbooks on his drawing table. Absently his fingers traced the spines of the sketchbooks and randomly pulled out an old one from near the bottom of the pile. He flipped it open and there was that face once again.

He stared into dark eyes and ran his fingers lightly over the full lips. A sigh escaped his mouth. "Brian," he thought, "what the hell happened?"

It had been over two years since he had seen the former ad executive. They had been so happy after Stockwell's defeat. Everything had seemed so right with the world. They had fucked and fucked and fucked. Life went on in the usual manner, at least as far as sex was concerned. They spent a lot of time together, although technically Justin still lived with Daphne. Brian found tricks at Babylon, at the baths, at Woody's. He began freelancing in advertising and with his settlement from Vangard he could live comfortably, but not in the style to which he wanted to become accustomed. Gradually he paid off some of the debt from the TV ads. He made a few investments with Ted's help and he began to replace the furniture in the loft but not with the kinds of pieces he really wanted.

Justin had been kicked out of PIFA and he had been pretty aimless for awhile. He worked at the diner and danced at Babylon. Mostly he fucked Brian. That had been the focus of his life. To say that they were happy was maybe overstating things, but to the outside world that was probably how they seemed.

Gradually, though, the euphoria of their victory began to wear off and they had to face the new reality in which they both lived. Nothing had really changed in the daily life on Liberty Avenue. Stockwell had discreetly withdrawn from public life and that seemed to be the end of the whole Jason Kemp affair. Nobody seemed to be willing to pursue it once Rikert was dead. The backrooms were open and that was all they cared about.

However, the day to day reality of life began to force them to have a different, less optimistic view of what they had done. Brian couldn't get a job with any other advertising agency in Pittsburgh. His reputation as arrogant and unreliable, and downright untrustworthy, preceded him wherever he went. He would have liked to leave the Pitts and try his luck elsewhere, but his resumes brought no positive responses. He began to think that he was being blackballed from advertising, and maybe Vance was behind it, although he could never prove that. He managed to get some small freelance jobs, enough so that they could make ends meet and not have to worry about the wolf at the door. But Justin knew that deep down Brian was very unhappy. This wasn't at all where he wanted to be at this point in his life.

Gradually he began to resent Justin's presence and the blond's part in what had happened to him. He became silent and withdrawn. Justin could see the old walls going back up. Brian had more and more trouble talking about what was going on between them. When their finances came up in discussion, which inevitably they did, Brian took it as an implied criticism of him, and as time went on he refused to talk to Justin about anything.

Brian had begun to frequent the backrooms more and more. He seemed to be retreating to his old pain management technique of sex, sex and more sex. Justin had suspected that Brian would like to be drinking and drugging a lot more too, but they just didn't have the money for it the way they used to.

Each of them knew that they were drifting apart, but they seemed to be incapable of doing anything to stop it. They still fucked regularly, but even that began to be colored by their resentment of each other and their continuing lack of real communication.

Then one fateful day as they say, Lindsay told Justin that a man had come into her gallery looking for an artist who specialized in faces. He owned a chain of beauty salons and wanted something fresh and different to use as a mural on the entranceway to each salon. He was renovating and wanted a portrait of a different woman on each salon as they were refurbished. He was going more upscale and hoped the mural would set the tone for his shops. Lindsay had recommended Justin, and as they also say, it was history from then on.

The man, Gino Paggliardi, had really loved Justin's first mural, and he had also loved Justin from the first moment he had laid eyes on him. Justin had worked closely with Gino listening to his suggestions of classic hairstyles to use on the woman. The face was to be almost five feet tall and very striking as clients entered the salon. The hairstyle Justin chose was a classic up do, giving the face a gracious, almost regal look. It did set the tone for the shop.

Gino had been so pleased with Justin's work that he had commissioned him to do a similar mural in each of his salons. It had taken six months in all for Justin to complete the work for the first salon, and then the second and third in Gino's small chain. Gino had paid him a set sum, but not a huge amount. He had promised that if his customers loved the murals he would provide a healthy bonus at the end of the commission. With all of the renovations Gino had had little money to give Justin his bonus when the clients at the salons raved about the murals. He and Justin had come to an agreement where Gino gave Justin a small portfolio of stocks instead. Gino promised that someday they would be worth much, much more. Justin had accepted knowing that he might get nothing if he didn't take what was offered. At that point they had had nothing in writing. Justin had learned then and there that he had to have a better business sense and get things in writing no matter what.

Justin had quickly realized that Gino was gay. He knew the man was interested in him from their first meeting, but he had refused to acknowledge that fact insisting that they keep their relationship on a purely professional level. By the time Justin started the mural for the second store Gino had become very persistent, and Justin was having more and more trouble denying his attraction for the man. Things between him and Brian were very strained. They shared a bed many nights and the sex was still good, but each knew that the connection between them just wasn't the same.

One night Justin had come to the loft to find Brian in bed with two men. He was totally wasted and so were his tricks. They wanted Justin to join them. Brian had insisted and there had been some unpleasant words between them when Justin refused. Justin had left, much to Brian's displeasure. He had gone to Daphne's and basically taken up residence there once again, refusing to speak to Brian until the man apologized. He and Brian hadn't spoken after that.

Weeks later when Justin had finally given in and called Brian, the man had not answered the phone, if he was there. He didn't respond to Justin's message either. That was when Justin had given in and gone to bed with Gino. Gino had been very happy and very grateful and Justin had enjoyed the sex after weeks of waiting for Brian to come to his supposed senses. Justin made it clear to Gino that it was a one time thing. Gino had tried to pursue Justin, but had finally realized that the blond wasn't interested in a long term relationship, at least not with him. They had remained friends and Gino had done his best to compensate Justin for his excellent work in the three salons.

Just before Justin finished the last mural for Gino, he received another commission that was to lead to big changes in his life. The wife of a Chicago businessman had been in Pittsburgh with her husband for a convention. She had gone to get her hair done at one of Gino's salons. She had fallen in love with Justin's mural and had enquired about the artist. Her husband was the CEO of the largest chain of private hospitals in Illinois. They were moving into new corporate headquarters and were looking for an artist to design murals about medicine for the lobby of the building. It was a huge area encompassing three massive walls that were to be covered floor to ceiling with the murals. It would be at least a year's work and they offered the job to Justin. That meant that he was moving to Chicago.

Once again he tried to contact Brian. It was now almost five months since he had last talked to the man. Justin felt that there was still unfinished business between them, but apparently Brian merely felt that they were through. He once again refused to answer his phone, refused to reply to Justin's messages and refused to answer the door when Justin visited the loft. Justin still had a key, but he refused to use it, taking Brian's silence as the final sign that they were finished. He had moved to Chicago the next week.

And that was how he had ended up here. Justin closed the sketchbook. He wished that he had had a chance to talk to Brian before he left Pittsburgh, but Brian had not allowed that to happen. Justin had even gone so far as to petition Michael to ask Brian to call him. Michael had reluctantly agreed. A few days later Michael had called Justin to say that Brian refused to allow him to mention Justin's name. Every time he had tried, Brian had hung up on him or had walked out. Justin had decided that enough was enough and had set out to make a new life in Chicago.

Justin lifted up the pile of sketchbooks and inserted the one he had been looking at near the bottom. That was where Brian belonged – near the bottom of the priorities in his life. He did his best not to think about his former … whatever the fuck he was, but sometimes like today the memories just came flooding back. There was so much left unfinished.

Justin closed his eyes and tried to block out those eyes, the hazel ones flecked with gold. Some part of him still longed for the look those eyes used to give him. Some part of him still longed for the touch of those long, slender fingers. Some part of him still longed for the kisses of those sweet full lips … on his neck, on his chest, on his own swollen and hungry lips. Justin realized he was stroking himself as his mind had wandered back to that enigmatic, complicated, beautiful … asshole. Thoughts of Brian could still get him hard. He stroked faster remembering the chaise and ice cream kisses. Suddenly he was coming with such ferocity that he slumped against the chair and grabbed his desk to keep from sliding onto the floor.

"Shit!" he griped looking at the mess he had made of his desk and himself. "Brian fucking Kinney I'm going to kill you if I ever see that smirking face of yours again."

Justin began to wipe himself off. He wondered deep within at the effect Brian could still have on him. Their relationship had been so intense, whether good or bad, but certainly intense. He had spent the night with a few men since he had come to Chicago, but never more than one night. A chill ran down his spine as he thought about that.

Had he turned into a replica of Brian Kinney? Fuck guys once, but never again. Don't allow yourself to really feel anything other than the immediate pleasure. Don't get involved. Stay aloof. Justin shuddered slightly at the implications of what he was thinking.

He shrugged and told himself that he had been having one night stands because he hadn't found anybody that he wanted to have a real relationship with. He liked some … most of the men he had been with but he hadn't loved any of them. Eventually he would find someone who would love him, who would want to share a life with him, who would make him burn with desire … just like … Brian. Fuck! Why did it always come back to Brian?

Justin got up from his desk and went into the bathroom to finish cleaning himself up. He grabbed some fresh clothes and threw himself down on the daybed that served as his couch during the day. He needed to … he needed to … fuck if he knew what he needed to do. That goddam Brian had ruined his day. He had been pleased with himself about the preliminary sketches, if only he hadn't pulled out that fucking picture of … him.

The pack of cigarettes sat on the little end table. Justin lit one and inhaled deeply. He felt the nicotine hit his system and he blew out the smoke savoring every bit of it. He had made a good life for himself here in Chicago, so why had he lapsed into fruitless (hah! What a pun he could make with that one!) musings about his ex?

He wondered how long it was going to take to get that man out of his system. Obviously two years hadn't been long enough.

Justin's thoughts returned to Brian. He wondered if the man had returned full time to advertising, if his life had gone back to what it had been pre-Justin, if he had gotten back all the designer furniture and clothes, if he fucked a different guy every night, if he had a boyfriend, if he ever thought about Justin. Christ, he needed to stop this or he was going to drive himself insane.

Suddenly a thought crossed Justin's perturbed mind. He reached for the phone and dialed a long familiar, but lately unused number.

After a couple of rings a voice said, "Emmett Honeycutt esquire speaking."

"My, aren't we formal these days."

"Justin? Justin! Oh my God, is that you, Justin?"

"It's me, Emm. How are you?" Justin said with a little laugh. He always felt good talking to Emmett. He wondered why he hadn't called him in such a long time.

"I'm great! How are you?"

"Not so bad," Justin lied, not ready to get into the real purpose of his call.

"How long has it been since I talked to you, honey? Almost a year?"

"Jeez Emm, it can't be that long," Justin replied horrified as he began to realize that it had been many, many months.

"I guess we've both been busy," Emmett said philosophically.

"So your party planning business is still going strong?" Justin asked.

"Very! That's why I answered the phone the way I did. I didn't know who would be calling long distance and I thought it might be an out of Pittsburgh party."

"Have you started doing parties in other cities?"

"Only one, in Harrisburg, but I made a fuckingly obscene amount of money off of it. I always hope for another one like that."

"Wow, Emm, your reputation must really be growing."

"Nothing but the best parties when you deal with Emmett Honeycutt," Emmett said proudly.

"How's everybody else?" Justin asked trying to edge into the real purpose of his call.

"Hm, where shall I start?" Emmett mused. "Teddy and Blake are still together. They seem happy even though Ted has gone back to being an accountant. I don't know how that could make anybody happy. He's clean and sober though, and they're living together."

"I'm sorry, Emm," Justin said wishing his friend had had a better experience in his ill-fated relationship with Ted. "Do you guys still keep in touch?"

"Ted calls every once in a while, but it's just not the same. We don't move in the same circles anymore."

"How's Deb?"

"Same as always. She's still working at the diner and running PFLAG and everybody's lives."

Justin giggled. "Somehow I knew that would be the case."

"She'd love you to call her, you know."

"I … I don't think I could deal with all that," Justin said ambiguously. "I know she means well, but I like being independent and I don't want her telling me what to do."

"I know, sweetie. In her eyes we never really grow up."

"What about Michael?"

"He and Ben are happily shacked up. Ben's health has been good, touch wood. They still have Hunter. The Child Welfare decided they would be the best guardians after it all came out about his mother and his HIV status."

"That must have been a relief to them."

"I'm sure it was. The comic book store is doing okay, but I know Michael wishes he could do another issue of Rage."

"That kind of got lost in the shuffle."

"Yeah," Emmett said thoughtfully.

Justin had been hoping that Brian would have been mentioned in all this, but Emmett knew that Justin had always refused to talk about Brian in their previous calls, and it seemed that he wasn't going to broach that subject.

"Are you and Vic still working together?" Justin asked, not knowing how to get into the subject of Brian without seeming too obvious.

"Yeah, I could never keep my business going without him."

"And his health?"

"Good, all things considered."

"How are Lindsay, Mel and … Gus?" Justin asked realizing how much he missed the little boy. He must be four years old now.

"They're good. Lindsay's still working at the gallery. Gus goes to junior kindergarten."

"Emm …," Justin began but just couldn't bring himself to ask."

"He's gone."

"What?" Justin asked immediately alert.

"I said he's gone. Brian's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Fuck if I know, sweetie."

"When?"

"About a year ago. One day all of a sudden he stopped coming to the diner. By the time we figured out that something was going on he had sold the loft and moved. Nobody knows where he went."

"Michael?"

"He swears he doesn't know either. He was really upset for awhile, but he has Ben and Hunter to worry about."

"Why … why didn't anybody tell me?" Justin asked trying to keep the tears out of his voice.

"I knew you never wanted to discuss him when you called. I debated telling you, but what good would that have done? I didn't know where he was. I still don't."

"I can't believe he's gone."

"Neither could we. He was really the center of our little family in a lot of ways. Strangely it's not the same without him, even though he could be such an asshole."

"Do you think he's all right?" Justin said softly.

"You know Brian. He always lands on his feet. He's one tough son of a bitch."

"Speaking of the 'bitch', do you think she knows where he is?" Justin asked thinking of Brian's mother.

"Not if Brian had anything to do with it. But she would never tell us anything anyway. Hell, she wouldn't even acknowledge our existence if she could help it."

"Do you think he got a job somewhere else?" Justin asked.

"Maybe, but I don't know if the job would be in advertising. He shopped his resume around, but there were no takers. He was really unhappy with how the Stockwell mess played out, ruining his reputation and his career."

"Yeah, and a lot of that was my fault," Justin said ruefully.

"You never made him do anything, honey. He decided that all by himself."

"He thought he was doing a good thing," Justin defended him. "He never thought the consequences would be so severe."

"All good deeds must be punished," Emmett offered.

"That hardly seems fair."

"Life can be one fucking unfair fiasco sometimes."

"That's for sure."

"So how are things in Chicago?"

"I'm doing okay. I'm just starting a second commission for a women's clothing store. It will probably take me the best part of a month to complete it."

"Wow, that sounds like big time stuff."

"I guess it is," Justin said thoughtfully. He had done all right for himself. He hoped Brian was doing all right too.

"I'm really glad you called, Justin."

"I am too."

"Don't make it so long next time."

"The phone works both ways, you know."

"Point taken."

"Bye, Emmett."

Justin hung up. Now he had more stuff than ever to wonder about.