STORMY
CHAPTER 1 – REVISED
EDITION
You were the sunshine,
baby
Whenever you
smiled
But I call you stormy
today
All of a sudden that ol' rain's fallin'
down
And my world is cloudy and
gray
You've gone
away
Oh stormy,
stormy
Bring back that sunny
day
Yesterday's love was like a warm summer
breeze
But like the weather it
changed
Now things are dreary,
baby
And it's windy and
cold
And I stand alone in the
rain
Callin' your
name
Stormy, oh
stormy
Bring back that sunny
day
Oh stormy, oh
stormy
Bring back that sunny
day
----- Lyrics by Blues/Cobb, performed
by Classics IV, 1968
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Yep,
that’s me – a Kinney through and through – no surprise at
all,” Brian muttered as he took another swig of
Beam. He sat alone in his big,
empty loft, lost in thoughts he normally wouldn’t
entertain.
Justin
moved out that afternoon. There
was no dramatic fight; no tearful goodbyes – Justin silently gathered
his stuff and left. Not wanting
to dwell on the suddenly empty, drafty, desolate atmosphere in the loft,
Brian grabbed his old friend, twisted off the cap, and began to
drink.
That
was
A
week had passed since the infamous party no one spoke of; a week since the
public humiliation and tragic loss he refused to
feel. Justin stayed away, and
returned to gather his belongings.
The
Brian
tried hoping once - and got yet another smack in the face from Dear Ol’
Jack. Let’s just say that
hoping was no longer something Brian did.
It
wouldn’t have been so pathetic if there were a screaming match or some
sort of dramatic flouncing going around to dramatize Justin’s
departure. The silent
slip through the door hurt more than a knockdown, drag-out
fight. Brian could have dealt
with an argument; it was something he’d expect from
Justin. But
for his “drama princess” to depart without even a sigh of exasperation
had to be the biggest irony, and also indicative of how much Justin
changed.
Deep
down Brian knew Justin was unhappy; it was evident in the way he looked at
him whenever he brought home a trick.
Brian was almost glad Justin had found someone else since it made
it easier for Brian to let him go.
Of course it did nothing for his
well-being. Brian felt the wetness
on his cheeks and assumed he’d spilled while
sipping. It wasn’t until
he looked down at the nearly empty bottle and saw his reflection that he
knew he’d been crying.
“Fuck,”
Brian said in exasperation. He
hated losing control like this. He
hated being maudlin; he hated feeling sorry for
himself. He was too drunk to
go out and too sober to stay in with his
memories. Classic IV’s
“Stormy” played on the stereo, and Brian heard the lyrics, thinking
about how well they fit his situation.
They fit too well. If
he weren’t so inebriated and drained, he’d march to the stereo
and hurl it out the window.
Setting the bottle down, Brian
swung his long legs onto the sofa, and lay back, reminiscing. He thought
about that first night, how terrified Justin was; his need to cuddle him
the morning after; his rambunctious accidental outing of Justin at St.
James’s that same morning; the hot nights thereafter; taking on Craig
Taylor and taking Justin under his wing; throwing him out after he got robbed,
and going to New York to retrieve him; the sex in New York when he found
him; Justin’s loving kindness after losing Mikey as a friend; his pride
when Justin got accepted to PIFA, and subsequent disappointment when Justin
told him he was going to Dartmouth instead (good thing Justin changed his
mind); Justin’s heartbreak when they both thought Brian was headed for
the bright lights of New York; The Prom, the bashing, and the horrific weeks
thereafter; the first time they made love after Justin came back to the loft;
helping Justin get better; those stupid rules - that’s where things
went wrong.
He didn’t like the direction
his thoughts were taking, so Brian stopped his train of thoughts, grabbed
the bottle, and drained it. If Brian had not agreed to those rules, and followed
them to the letter even after Justin had broken them all, perhaps they would
have had a chance - no, they were doomed from the start. Brian knew it was
only a matter of time before Justin got tired of “Life
With Brian” and gave up on him. Everyone gives
up on Brian Kinney eventually - hell, his dad gave up on him on Day One,
and his mom gave up on him when she knew he was gay. Most of his friends
gave up on him after the "Rage" fiasco. He was nothing but a big disappointment,
with nothing but a luxurious loft, fancy clothes, and a great reputation
in the sack to keep him warm at night. With that thought, Brian laid back
and closed his eyes. Regret tasted
foul – that’s why he never dealt with it.
……
“Brian?
Brian? Wake up
Brian!”
“Do you think he can hear
you?”
“No – he’s out,
but not like normal.”
“Shit – his breathing
is really shallow. How the fuck
much did he drink? Turn him on
his side – I’ll call 911.”
Lindsay and Michael decided
to visit Brian to check in on him, and found the man unconscious on his
sofa. They called for an ambulance
and demanded to ride with their friend.
They stared at each other,
terror in their eyes as the ambulance sped toward the
hospital. According to the EMT
who worked on him, Brian had consumed enough alcohol to
kill.
“I knew he was upset about
Justin leaving him, but enough to kill himself,” Michael
asked.
“I don’t think it
was intentional – you remember how he was after Justin was
bashed.”
Lindsay and Michael sat in
the waiting room, agonizing over whether Brian would
live.
“I never realized how
strongly he felt for him,” Michael
said. “I knew he loved him
– hell, we all did. I saw
the look on his face when he walked out of the party with that guy last
week. Brian looked like he’d
been punched in the gut. I feel
like this was all my fault – maybe I should
have kept my big mouth shut, like Ben said.”
“Don’t go blaming
yourself Michael,” Lindsay
admonished. “Brian has always
been bound to self-destruct. It
wasn’t a matter of ‘If,’ but a matter of
‘When.’ How much longer
do you think he would have been able to keep it
up? How much longer do you think
he could keep drinking, drugging and tricking before something like this
happened?”
“But he was always stronger
than any of us.”
“It was only a front –
you know this as well as I
do. We’ll have to
be strong for him now – he’ll need
it.”
After a torturous two-hour
wait with no one giving the two friends any updates, the doctor finally returned
with the news.
End
of Part 1