A Night at Woody's
Brian sat nursing his drink. He’d already kicked back two and
was taking the third one slow. The last thing he needed was to get shit-faced
the night before Babylon reopened.
He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that tomorrow night Pittsburgh’s
best gay…no make that simply the best dance club would reopen and Justin
wouldn’t be there. The lad had tasted the New York City art scene and had
swallowed it whole. He’d already had five of his paintings exhibited in big name
galleries. The attention earned and received by way of that critic Simon
Caswell’s ArtForum article was well deserved, but Brian couldn’t help but feel
some regrets. Yes, regrets.
Despite everything Brian wanted to be married, or at least in a committed
relationship with Justin Taylor, artist extraordinaire. They’d seemed to have
everything. They remained connected and Brian visited Justin virtually every
weekend, except for the few when Justin had taken the bus straight to West
Virginia because he wanted to get away from it all.
But now there was nothing. Justin had received the invitation about the opening,
and Brian and he discussed it many times. But for the past week there was
absolutely nothing. After leaving Justin the seventh message in as many days he
realized that New York had won. Ah well, it was probably for the best. Who was
he kidding? As soon as Justin got used to the bright lights and big city
Pittsburgh and Brian would be relegated to fond, and sometimes not so fond,
memories.
So Brian sat at the bar in Woody’s alone, nursing his third double Beam.
“Hey.”
“What the fuck?”
“I thought I’d be a welcome sight, but if not I’ll just head home.”
“Home…as in?”
“Well, I’m pretty fuckin’ lucky, because I have two homes.”
Here it is, the time for Justin to announce that New York was home.
“One is in this fabulous mansion in West Virginia where I can play Prince to my
King…and the other is this hot loft at the corner of Tremont.”
“Home as in…”
“As in home to stay. Who knew it would take a fucking week to pack and arrange
for everything to get shipped to West Virginia? That is where my studio is,
isn’t it? Of course, when I get filthy rich from all the commissions I got after
that show two weeks ago, and I only showed two paintings, I may just have to
invest in a studio in Pittsburgh as well.”
“You little twat.”
“I prefer little cocksucker, but I think little is significantly underestimating
ALL my talents.”
“Does this mean…” Brian couldn’t finish the sentence for fear it wouldn’t be
correct.
“My, Brian, for an ad exec you’ve certainly lost the power of speech.” Justin
smirked. “I believe the phrase is, ‘Are you ready to marry me now?’”
“And, the answer would be…”
“In a heartbeat!”
“Then I think I’d better kiss the bride.”
“We can consider tomorrow night’s little gala our reception. Of course, I’ll
make a dramatic, surprise entrance.”
“Of course.”
“Since our friends will be there what could be better?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
Brian smiled for the first time in seven days and then looked at Justin with an
intensity that was necessary for his one final question. “Are you sure?”
“Brian, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Nothing will ever stop
me from reaching my destiny…and that destiny is you.”
Brian and Justin poured their love into the kiss.
Brian smiled, thinking of a previous kiss on the steps of Woody’s. “Now I have
everything.”
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