The Dream

"I now pronounce you partners for life. You can kiss now."

"I introduce to you Brian and Justin Kinney-Taylor."

WHAT THE FUCK? I bolted upright on the sofa. Jeez - that's what I get for falling asleep during the 11 O'Clock News.

I shook myself out of the haze and looked around the room. Jesus. The TV was still on; some stupid informercial hawking another fad diet played. I fumbled around to find the remote and shut it off.

I couldn't believe I'd just dreamed Justin and I got hitched. Ever since the news announced gay marriages were now legal in the U.S., it's been the only topic of conversation on Liberty Avenue. Dykes and dickless fags everywhere planned their weddings; every hotel in the Pitts hounded me to market their gay wedding packages; Emmett's business grew like crazy and he had to hire a full staff to help out Vic and himself.

Oddly enough, Justin remained suspiciously silent about the whole thing. I didn't know if it was because he didn't know how to approach me about it, or if he just figured I wouldn't be interested.

We were practically married anyway; why the hell would we need a fucking ceremony? I told him two years ago we weren't a pair of dykes in Vera Wangs. He told me last year he knew what to expect from me. That's as close as it's getting.

I ran my left hand through my hair and felt something odd. I dropped my hand and looked down; on the third finger was a platinum band.

"JUSTIN!"

"What?"

"What the hell is this?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember passing out on the sofa watching the news. You'd think I'd remember getting married!"

"Jesus, Brian - how much E did you take yesterday?"

Holy mighty fuck - we did it; we actually did it. I looked at Justin's hand and saw an identical band circling his left ring finger. Either I was still in the dream, or that shit Anita gave me really fucked me up.

Justin pushed me aside on the sofa and showed me our marriage license...our official last name was Kinney-Taylor. I actually hyphenated my fucking name!

"You dragged me to the courthouse with Michael and the gang to do it."

Shit.

It all came flooding back. I was flying off some primo shit from Anita last week. I woke up Justin and told him we were getting married. We got blood tests and everything. I decided if I was going to do it, I didn't want to be sober, so I got some more E from Anita. Yesterday I got high, and made him call all the gang to meet us at the courthouse. I even bought the goddamn rings at Bulgari!

"Brian, that's it - no more shit from Anita. Okay?"

"If it makes me do dumb shit like get married, you don't have to worry - Anita will no longer get my business."

So, here I was - married 24 hours and still alive. Thoughts of my father rolling in his grave at Mach 1 and my mother expiring and finally entering the gates of Heaven entered my head. Hey - that's enough to make me stay married.

"So, when's the honeymoon," I asked. Justin threw a pillow at my head.

Fin

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