Gentlemen's Agreement

Part 3

Justin nearly choked on his water. How the hell did Tony find out about the fellowship? The tone of Tony’s voice, and the expression on his face, told the deer-in-the-headlights young man that the news had not been well received. It was time to make a snap decision. Should Justin come clean now, or attempt to give himself time to rethink a new strategy?

“Chicago, who said anything about Chicago?” He chose to feign ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb with me Justin.” Tony glared at him with those deep brown eyes. “I’m on the board of trustees at PIFA, remember? Professor Dailey sent me a nice letter, thanking me for my continued support and encouragement to aspiring young artists like Justin Taylor, who has been selected to study with Sam Auerbach in Chicago. Now, pass the salt please.”

“You weren’t going to say anything?” Justin handed Tony the shaker.

“I figured you’d eventually say something as the time neared. I don’t like being deceived, Justin. You lose my trust, and you lose me.” Tony seasoned his food.

“I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know how you were going to react,” Justin said.

“Does Brian know about this?” Tony frowned.

“No.” Justin shook his head. “I was going to tell you both tonight. I wanted to wait until the time was right.”

“And you think now is a good time? Justin, if you wanted to go gallivanting across the country, following some crackbrain artist, shouldn’t you have done that BEFORE you got married?” Tony took a mouthful of jambalaya.

“Sam Auerbach is not some crackbrain artist. Do you know how many students would cut off their right arm to study under him?” Justin said in his own defense.

“Too salty.” Tony pushed his bowl of jambalaya away with a vengeance.

The unexpected display of anger made Justin flinch. “I won’t be gallivanting across the country. I’ll be in Chicago, and it’s only for 2yrs. I can stay with Mary, at your place, and come back here every weekend.” He gently laid out his plan.

Tony wasn’t impressed. “Against everyone’s better judgment, including my own, I agreed to this unusual arrangement,” he began. “I agreed to it because I love you, and because I thought that you wanted you, and me, and Brian to be a family.”

“I do.” Justin smiled.

“Oh give me a fucking break!” Tony hissed. “We started our life together in a filthy jail cell. We haven’t had time for a proper honeymoon. We don’t even live in the same goddamn house, and you have the audacity to call this three-ring circus a marriage?”

“Yes,” Justin said.

“Well I don’t.” Tony dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Brian and I have been busting our butts to build a home for you here in Pittsburgh, and all along you’ve been planning on flouncing off to Chicago, following some artist. If what we have to offer you here isn’t good enough for you….. Justin, I give you my word as a gentleman. I’ll put your wishy-washy little ass on a plane to Chicago, and write you out of my life like a bad business deal.”

“You don’t mean that,” Justin said.

“Try me.” Tony stood up from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day. I’m going home. If Brian shows up, tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.”

 

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It was turning out to be an Oscar winning day for Brian Kinney. Holding it together following his diagnosis of cancer was nothing less than brilliant. Offering his best friend a stoic shoulder to cry on showed artistic range. However, Brian’s cavalier brush-off of Michael’s accusation of a morning liaison between Tony and David was by far his most stellar performance. Fear, rage, anguish, disappointment, if only the information had come from another source. Emmett, or even Ted, would have caused Brian to doubt that the man he entrusted with his heart had deceived him. Why did it have to be Michael who discovered the betrayal?

Brian blamed himself for the pain he was feeling now. What goes around, comes around. For the first time he truly understood how Justin must have felt all those times when he watched the man he loved walk off into the night with a different trick. The thought of Tony in David’s arms was beyond devastating, it was paralyzingly painful, and it was all Brian’s fault for breaking his own cardinal rule. Everybody knows that Brian Kinney doesn’t believe in love, he believes in fucking. Unfortunately the man with no apologies, and no regrets, was now choking on his own words. Brian put on his best game face, and opened the door to Justin’s small apartment. The smell of jambalaya permeated through the darkness.

“Hello! Where is everybody? You’ve started dessert without me?” Brian tried to sound cheerful.

“There won’t be any dessert,” a somber voice informed him.

Brian flipped on the lights to find Justin sitting on the sofa. His reddened face and swollen eyes bore the telltale signs that he had been crying. “Justin, what’s happened?”

“I’m going to Chicago,” Justin said.

“Chicago?” Brian scanned the living room. “Where’s Tony?”

“He went home,” Justin said.

“Back to Chicago?” Brian looked confused.

“Back to the Plaza,” Justin sniffed.

“Justin, you’re not making any sense. Will you please tell me what the fuck is going on? Why are we going to Chicago? Is Mary alright?” Brian searched.

“Mary is fine.” Justin swiped his eyes with his wrist. “And I didn’t say that WE were going to Chicago. I said I’m going to Chicago. I’ve been offered a fellowship to study with Sam Auerbach in Chicago, and I’m going.”

“Who the fuck is Sam Archie-ball?” Brian wasn’t impressed.

“Sam Auerbach is only one of the most important contemporary artists of our time. Hundreds of PIFA students applied to study with him. Professor Dailey personally recommended me, and I was the one Mr. Auerbach selected to come to Chicago,” Justin said with pride.

Brian took a seat on the sofa, and properly congratulated his baby with a kiss. “That’s wonderful. That’s fucking great!” he said.

Justin’s affect immediately brightened. “Oh Brian, I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that,” he smiled. “This is really the chance of a lifetime for me. Do you know what kind of exposure this will give my work? I should have known that you would approve.”

“Of course I approve.” Brian smiled.

“I need you to talk to Tony for me,” Justin said.

“Tony, what’s wrong with Tony?” Brian didn’t understand.

“Well…..he’s a little upset about the timing,” Justin said.

“What about the timing?” Brian asked.

Justin cleared his throat, and took a deep breath. “Initially, I was going to wait until after my graduation in June, but professor Dailey says that I can finish my final semester at PIFA in Chicago, with Mr. Auerbach. I’ll be leaving the second week of January, a little less than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Brian’s smile faded. “How long will you be gone?”

“Two years,” Justin said under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Brian leaned closer to make sure he was hearing right.

“Two years,” Justin said.

“TWO YEARS?”

“You’re yelling, Brian,” Justin pointed out.

“YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I’M YELLING!” Brian agreed. “How long have you known about this?”

“Now you’re sounding like Tony.” Justin returned to his somber mood. “Brian, I need to do this. I don’t want to be a golddigger for the rest of my life…”

“Golddigger, what the fuck are you talking about?” Brian looked confused.

“GOLDDIGGER, one who uses his ass, instead of his talent to surf through life on a borrowed surfboard, riding a wave that’s been handed to him because of his looks. Golddigger.” Justin gave professor Dailey’s definition of the term. “That’s all I am, Brian, and you know it.”

“Bullshit!” Brian disagreed.

“It’s true,” Justin begged to differ. “Look at you and Tony, you’re both successful in your own right, and I’m nothing.”

“You’re an artist for one of the most successful advertising agencies in Pittsburgh. I wouldn’t call that NOTHING!” Brian argued.

“Kinnetics is YOUR agency, Brian,” Justin reminded him. “The only reason I’m there is because I’m fucking the boss! Brian, you’ve always said that you wanted to make me the best homosexual that I could be. That includes becoming the most successful homosexual that I can be. Nothing pisses off breeders more than a fag with money.”

“But Justin…two years?” Brian said bleakly.

“I can stay with Mary in Chicago during the week, and fly back here to be with you and Tony on weekends.” Justin nuzzled his husband’s neck. “Please Brian, I need to do this. I need to do this for myself,” he whispered.

Once again, Brian found himself choking on his own words. Indeed his original goal was to mold Justin into the best homosexual that he could be. Mission accomplished. The scared little boy that stumbled onto Liberty Avenue, and into Brian Kinney’s heart a lifetime ago was now a proud, strong willed, unapologetic, bastion of gay manhood, and ready to try his wings. Brian lifted Justin’s face, and looked into the oh, so familiar, beautiful pools of blue. ***sigh*** What’s a daddy to do? He had to let him go.

“Alright. I’ll talk to Tony,” Brian said.


NEXT TIME: “Gentlemen’s Agreement, pt.4”

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