The Candidate

Part 3

Brian had a day to study up on topics of current public interest.  Charles told him that he needed to develop a position on each one.  Brian asked Charles to help him with that, but the man refused, saying he wanted Brian to have his own position, one that he believed in.  He did promise he would discuss any topics that Brian was unsure about and offer some possible positions for him to consider.

 

Brian still had trouble believing that this group was so willing to stay out of everything.  He had figured they would start pushing their agenda as soon as he declared his candidacy.  That had not happened.  They seemed prepared to let him make his own decisions.  That both pleased and perplexed Brian.  He wasn't sure where these people were coming from.  He wondered if it could really be as simple as what they had stated.

 

The following day Brian was to hold a press conference, followed by an interview with one of the Pittsburgh newspapers.  He hoped he was ready.  He had asked Justin over in the evening, fucked his brains out and then got the boy to quiz him like it was the press conference.  They had both ended up in stitches, but besides having fun, Brian felt better prepared to meet the press.

 

He stepped up to the microphone in the hall where the conference was being held.  He looked out at the audience.  He knew no one there except Charles who had once again accompanied him and had just introduced him to the gathered throng.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Brian began, "I don't have a prepared statement, so I thought we could begin with questions that you lot want to know."  He pointed at the first raised hand that he saw.

 

"Mr. Kinney, I understand you were an ad executive at Vangard, but you were fired."

 

"Yes."

"No explanation?" the woman asked.

 

"You didn't ask for an explanation.  I simply answered your question."

 

"I'm asking you for an explanation now," said the woman reporter starting to get testy with him.

 

He smiled his most charming smile.  "I ran Jim Stockwell's campaign for mayor," Brian said.  There were gasps from those who had not done their homework, and therefore didn't know that piece of information.  "His numbers went way up while I was in charge.  However, he began to attack and shut down gay establishments on Liberty Avenue.  It became more and more restrictive for the gay community.  Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and we parted ways."

 

"Parted ways?" the same reporter asked.  "You were fired."

 

"That's correct.  I began to undermine his campaign.  I couldn't stand his politics any longer."

 

"Is that why you decided to run?"

 

"Partly."

"What other reasons did you have?"

 

"Mr. Langdon came to me and suggested that I take this step.  I would never have thought of running for election on my own.  I was flattered and decided to give it a try."

Brian pointed at another reporter thinking he had covered that topic as much as he wanted to.

 

"Mr. Kinney, you said outside city hall that you were gay."  Brian nodded.  "Do you think that will be a factor in this campaign?"

 

"I would like to say that it won't be, but this isn't Fantasy Island."  Brian heard a few chuckles.  "In the real world here in Pittsburgh it will be an issue.  There will be those who condemn me for my lifestyle.  There will be those who support it.  And there will be the vast majority of people, at least I hope they're a majority, who are more interested in the kind of Pittsburgh that they would have with me in charge."

 

"And what kind of Pittsburgh will that be?"

Brian hoped his discussion with Justin last night would pay off.  "I want a Pittsburgh that is safe, clean and free for people to live their lives without prejudice or persecution.  I truly believe in life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  I don't believe in repression or attacking any one group."

"That's very noble," the reporter replied, "but how do you intend to accomplish all that?"

"I don't."

 

"I beg your pardon?" the reporter said.

 

"I said I don't.  That is an ideal that this country has pursued in one way, shape or form since it was founded.  We have never truly achieved it, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.  I intend to try and I hope to succeed to some degree, but I don't expect to totally get there."

He pointed at another reporter.  The woman stood and asked the question Brian had been dreading, "Do you have family in Pittsburgh, Mr. Kinney?"

"Yes, I do."

 

The woman looked slightly exasperated with him.  "Could you tell us about them, please?"

"I have a mother and sister.  My father's dead.  And I have a son."

 

"A son?"

 

"I was sperm donor for a friend of mine.  My son lives with his mothers.  They're lesbians."

 

"Do you see him?" 

 

"Yes, from time to time."

 

"Do you support him?"

"I help out when they need it."

The reporter looked like she was going to pursue that, but then sat down. 

 

"She probably wants more facts before she tries to make me look bad," Brian thought to himself.  He pointed to another reporter.

 

"Are you into the club scene, Mr. Kinney?"

 

"Here it comes," Brian thought.  "I have been," he said aloud.

 

"Not anymore?"

 

"I still go occasionally."

"Until Mr. Stockwell shut down the back rooms of those establishments?"

 

"I go to dance," Brian said skirting the issue.

 

"But you have made use of the back rooms in the past?"

"Yes, as do most self-respecting gay men."  Brian was getting ticked.  He reminded himself that he had to watch his temper, not let them get to him.

 

"In fact you have quite a reputation on Liberty Avenue, don't you?"

 

"Do I?"

 

"You're known as the stud of Liberty Avenue."

"Is that right?  I didn't know my reputation would precede me."

"Did I use the correct terminology?"

 

"Very correct."

"What do you have to say about that?" the man pursued.

 

"I don't have anything to say about it.  I do have that reputation.  There are many out there who would give their eye teeth to be called the same thing."

 

The audience laughed, but Brian saw a few disapproving faces.

 

"So, Mr. Kinney, you think that kind of reputation qualifies you for public office?"

"As much as Stockwell who was a homophobic bastard!" Brian retorted.  "Shit!" Brian thought.  That comment was sure to be in the papers.  "I don't really see what my sex life has to do with being mayor of Pittsburgh."

 

"It shows your moral character."

"Does it?  Does it show that I'm truthful, that I don't back down from a challenge, that I say what I mean, and unlike someone else who ran for this office, I will say it in such a way that there is no doubt about my meaning.  Where I stick my dick has nothing to do with it."

There was a collective gasp at the last statement.  The reporter sat down, seeing that he was not going to get anything better out of this guy.  He had some controversial quotes for his next article and he was happy.

 

"I think I'll wrap this up for today, ladies and gentlemen.  I know you think you have some real skinny to print, but please remember where you got this information.  From me!  I practice what I preach.  Good morning."

Brian walked down from the dais and Charles whisked him out to the car.  He leaned his head against the headrest.  "Fuck!" he sighed.

 

"You did fine, Brian," Charles said.

 

"Fine?  Are you fucking nuts?  They roasted me alive in there.  I knew it was coming and there was nothing I could do about it."  Brian shook his head feeling defeated.  "Maybe we should cut our losses and quit right now."

"I said you did fine.  You stood up to them.  You didn't let them rattle you … too much.  You told the truth.  At least I hope that was the truth?"

 

"It was."

"Is there more to come?" Charles asked.

 

"Probably," Brian replied, thinking that no one had mentioned Justin yet.

 

"You'll be surprised at the reaction to what you did in there."

 

"Really?  Will I be surprised when they come to drag me away and beat my brains in for fucking men in back rooms?"

 

"That's not going to happen.  Wait and see what the truth will do."

 

"Sure.  The truth shall set me free."  Brian grimaced.

 

******************************************

 

Brian was dropped off at the loft where he tried to call Justin.  He hoped the boy was not in class, but he got voicemail and left a message.  He wanted a drink, but knew that some reporter would be there around one o'clock for an interview.  He could hardly wait for that.

 

"I must have been fucking delusional when I said I'd do this," Brian muttered.

 

He wanted to get drunk or stoned, but he knew he couldn't.

 

"Although," he thought, "that would make for an interesting interview."  He snorted.  "I could fuck this right now and I'd never have to answer another question."  But, he had committed himself to this venture and he would see it through.

 

Suddenly the phone rang.

 

"Justin?" he said without looking at the caller ID.

 

"Yeah, it's me.  How did it go?"

"I fucking hated every minute!"

 

"Wasn't there anything good about it?"

 

"Only the part where I told them that it was none of their business where I stick my dick."

"You didn't?"

"I did."

"Brian?"

 

"I know, I know.  I kept my cool for most of the time, but then they asked about the club scene and if I used the back rooms."

"Did you admit it?"

"I was brutally honest about everything, about myself.  I didn't much like it.  It made me sound like a not very nice person."

"When have you ever had the reputation of being nice?" Justin asked.

 

"Thanks," Brian replied, not liking Justin's response.

 

"Brian, I just mean that you are never going to be Mr. Nice no matter what you say or do at this point.  You are what you are and I thought we agreed that you would win or lose based on that."

"You're right," Brian said slowly.  "We did."

 

"So what's next?"

 

"I have some reporter coming here for an interview in about an hour."

"Take a shower, wear something smashing and be honest.  You'll be fine."

"You think so?"

Justin could remember few times when Brian had sounded so unsure of himself.  "I know so," he said, hoping to show the man his confidence in him.

 

"Thanks," Brian said and hung up.

 

He went to the bedroom to look for something great to wear.

 

******************************************

 

A little after one o'clock the buzzer indicated that the reporter had arrived.  Brian buzzed him up, wondering what parts of his life he would have to lay bare this time.  He had managed to refrain from drink or drugs and had found some leftover salad for lunch.  He looked at himself in the mirror, thinking that he looked smart and relaxed in his gray pants and soft, blue sweater.  He wished he felt that way.

 

The reporter knocked on the door and Brian let him in.  The man looked around assessing Brian's home. 

 

"Just like one of my tricks," Brian thought and that made him smile.  Maybe he could do this after all.

 

"Great place," the reporter said.

 

"Thanks, there are tours on the hour," he said treating the man like a trick.

 

The reporter chuckled.  "I'm Greg Harris," he said extending his hand.  "But call me Greg."

 

Brian shook his hand and asked if he would like some coffee or a beer.  Greg said some water would be good, so Brian split a Perrier with him.  They sat down in the living room.

 

"So Mr. Kinney, why are you running for mayor?"

 

"I thought I answered that one this morning.  Weren't you there?"

 

"Yes, I was.  I thought maybe there was a longer version, like rubbing Stockwell's face in it."

Brian chuckled.  "That would be sweet, after he cost me my job."

 

"But that isn't your motivation?"

 

"Actually I never thought about him at all.  I'm just glad he's out of the race."

"Why did you represent him if you were so against his politics?"

"He wouldn't have been my first choice, but he came to me.  At first things were pretty innocuous.  He didn't know I was gay.  Gradually he started targeting Liberty Avenue until I couldn't stand it anymore."

 

"So how did you come to the parting of the ways?"

 

"I sent him into an ambush, and he figured it out."

"Why didn't you just tell him that you quit?"

"The firm had too much resting on him and the campaign.  I naively thought I could get away with it."

"Do you live here alone?" Greg asked changing the subject.

 

"Yes," Brian replied.

 

"No live-in lover?"

"Not at the moment."

"Has there been one?"

"One, and only one."

"But he's not here now?"

"We're working some things out."

"Care to supply me with a name?"

"Not really."

"Okaaaaay."  He drew the word out.  "Then let's get to your positions on some issues."

 

"Sure," Brian replied, glad that they seemed to be done with the personal stuff.

******************************************

 

Justin called around four o'clock to see how the interview had gone.  Brian told him it could have been worse and asked if he was coming over.  Justin said he had about an hour of work to do in his space at the Institute, and then he would pick up dinner and come to Brian's.  This would be one of the few free evenings Brian would have for the next while.

 

When Justin arrived at the loft he found Brian stretched out on the couch staring at the ceiling.

 

"Hey," he said coming through the door.

 

"Hey yourself."

 

"Are you hungry?" Justin asked.  "I brought take-out."

"I could eat.  I had a little bit of salad for lunch."

 

Once they were settled on the couch with their dinner, Justin asked again how the interview went.  Brian was sort of non-committal.

 

"Did they ask about me?" Justin wanted to know, thinking that might be the reason for Brian's lack of information.

 

"He asked if I live here alone and I told him I do.  We skirted the issue of you.  I didn't give him your name."

 

"Why not?"

 

"I was trying to keep you out of it."

 

"That's not going to work.  People around here know our history.  All they have to do is ask."

 

"I know, but I don't know what to say about you.  We don't technically live together, but most nights you're here, like now."

 

"You could say I'm your lover, your boyfriend, your significant other or your fuck de jour.  Take your pick," Justin dared staring straight at Brian.

 

"How about all of the above?"

 

"What?  You think I'm all of the above?"

"Yes, I do."

 

"Jesus, Brian, you pick a hell of a time to tell me this."

"Oops!" Brian said with a shrug and a silly little grin.  "Would you be okay if I said you were any or all of those things?"

"Yes."

 

"Even the fuck de jour."

"Even that."

 

"What about fuck de every jour?" Brian asked with a smile.  "Once I mention you they'll come after you."

 

"So?"

 

"What will you say?"

"I could say that I have a pretty big cock and I give great head.  That would explain why you keep me around."

 

"There's lots of other reasons I keep you around."

 

"Such as?" Justin asked wanting some answers especially before they appeared in the newspaper.

 

"We make a great team," Brian offered.

 

Justin grinned.  "Yeah, we do."

"I couldn't go through this without you."

"Yes, you could."

 

"But it wouldn't be half as much fun," Brian teased.

 

"Sweet talker," Justin replied setting down his plate and moving closer to Brian.  His hand reached for Brian's cock and he could feel that his words had already had an effect.  "Are we done with dinner?"

"I think so," Brian said getting rid of his own plate.  He took Justin in his arms and kissed him with such tenderness and need that the boy was taken aback.

 

"This will be all right, Brian.  I'll be all right.  We'll be all right."

"Promise?"

 

"Yes."

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