Candidate Prologue

The Candidate

Brian took another hit and leaned back against the couch.  He knew he needed to get up and get on with his life, but it all seemed like too much effort.  Since he had been fired from Vangard, he had holed up in the loft.  He hardly saw anyone except Justin and rarely even him.  He had tolerated the odd visit from Debbie or Michael at the beginning, but then had refused to answer the phone or the door.  They had got the message and left him alone.  They had done their best to cheer him up and tell him he had done the right thing.  Fuck the right thing!  He was unemployed and ostracized from everything and everyone that meant something to him.

 

He had made the grand gesture of smashing the lock off the backroom at Babylon, but it was back up the next day.  Stockwell had seen to that, but the bastard was paying the ultimate price.  Once the events at the GLC had hit the TV news programs, Stockwell's numbers had plummeted.  Brian grinned.  At least one good thing had come out of all this.  That bastard would never be the mayor of the city.  However, they would still be stuck with him as police chief.

 

He took another draw on the marijuana and let it sift through his system.  He needed to focus, but it still hurt too much.  Debbie was right.  Money and power were very important to him.  Somehow he had managed to fuck himself out of both of those valuable commodities.  He sighed and stared at the ceiling.  He glanced at the shit in his hand and wondered why it wasn't making him feel a whole hell of a lot better.

 

The buzzer screaming at him brought him back to reality.  Who the fuck had come to console him now?  He didn't want their pity or help.  He slowly pushed himself up from the floor, as the buzzer kept up its annoying sound.

 

"What?" he barked into the intercom.

 

"Brian Kinney?" a voice said.

 

"Who wants to know?" Brian asked with annoyance.

 

"My name is Charles Langdon."



"And who's he when he's at home?" Brian asked with a barely suppressed giggle.  He remembered one of his father's uncles using that expression way back when.

 

"I represent a group of concerned citizens.  I'd really like to come up and talk to you about something rather important."



"Such as?"  Brian could only imagine what a group of concerned citizens would want with him.  He wondered if tarring and feathering was still popular.

 

"Could we do this face to face?" the man requested.



"I don't want to be disturbed," Brian replied and walked away from the intercom.  He had taken only a few steps when it started buzzing again.  "Fuck!" he shouted at the empty loft.  He retraced his steps and hit the intercom button.  "This fucking better be good," he shouted and hit the release button for the front door.  He pulled the loft door back and leaned against it.  He heard the elevator engage and begin its rise to his floor.  As it came into view he could see a head with salt and pepper gray hair and what looked like a lean body wearing a very nice suit.

 

"Some middle aged asshole with money!" Brian thought.  "He should be home taking Viagra and fucking his wife."



The gate went up and Brian had to rethink his first impression.  The man was late forties or early fifties, but he was still a very trim and handsome man.  He definitely gave off a gay vibe that Brian could feel as the man held out his hand.  Brian shook it reassessing who he was dealing with.

 

"I appreciate your time," Mr. Langdon said.  "I'll try not to waste it."



"Come in," Brian said wondering what the hell this man could want with him.

 

Brian suddenly wished that he hadn't left the makings of his toke on the coffee table, but there was nothing he could do about that now. 

 

"Would you like something to drink?" Brian asked.

 

"No, thank you.  If I may, I'd like to get right to the point."

 

"Have a seat and let's get started," Brian said.

 

The man sat down on the couch taking cursory notice of the drug paraphernalia in front of him.  Brian smiled inwardly.  He liked this guy.  Nothing fazed him.  He was getting more and more curious about why this elegant man was here and what he wanted with an unemployed ad exec.

 

"I'd like to congratulate you for your stand against Stockwell," the man began.

 

"Stand?  I was his PR man.  What are you talking about?"



"I know you brought his numbers way up when you took over his campaign, but I also know that you brought him down."

 

"And how would you know that?" Brian asked.  His role in the GLC fiasco was not widely known and he wanted it kept that way.

 

"I know a lot about what goes on in the gay circles of Pittsburgh."



"I don't think that I've ever seen you around," Brian said puzzled.

 

"I'm not into the club scene … anymore."



"Does that mean that you once were?"



"Yes, eons ago, but I still have friends who are into that and they keep me informed.  You're pretty famous on Liberty Avenue."

 

"No shit!"

 

"No shit.  Although what you're famous for is another story."

 

Brian snorted.  He knew only too well what he was famous for, and he didn't think he wanted to be discussing that with Charles Langdon.  "So why are you here?  A discussion of my infamy hardly seems grounds for a visit."



It was Charles' turn to snort.  He surveyed this man that he had decided to approach.  He still had grave misgivings about what he was going to do.  However, he decided he liked the man, arrogant son of a bitch that he seemed to be.  He obviously did some drugs, but he showed none of the signs of being a chronic user.  He had a blatant honesty that was rather refreshing.  He was very good looking, oozing sexuality that he believed would appeal to all people, male or female, gay or straight.

 

"Mr. Langdon?" Brian said.  "I asked you why you are here."



"Excuse me.  I was lost in thought."



"I could tell."

 

"As I said to you on the intercom, I represent a group of concerned citizens.  I'm here to make you a proposal."

 

"I don't believe in marriage, but thanks for the offer."

 

Charles chuckled.  "Not that kind of proposal."

 

"Then what kind?" Brian asked truly mystified by what this man was driving at.

 

"We want you to run for public office."

 

"Yeah, right!  Is this Mikey's idea of a joke?  Because if it is, it isn't fucking funny!"

 

"This is no joke.  We think you should be the next mayor of Pittsburgh."



Brian didn't know whether to laugh or cry or slit his wrists.  What the hell was going on?  Maybe that shit he had been smoking was stronger than he thought.  Had he somehow slipped into the Twilight Zone without noticing?  "Are you on drugs or just fucking insane?" he asked incredulously.

 

"Neither, I hope."



"But you can't be serious."

 

"Oh, but I am."



Brian closed his mouth realizing that he had been gaping at this man for the last minute or two.  "I think you better leave now or I'll have to call the police and have you removed."

 

"Don't do that.  Please, listen to me.  I'm serious about this.  There is a group of influential people who are prepared to back you in this attempt."

 

"But what about Stockwell and the incumbent mayor?  There's less than a month left before the election."  Brian was stunned, first by the proposition and secondly that this man seemed so serious about it.  It couldn't be for real.

 

"Actually there will be a full month of campaigning starting the beginning of next week."



"Why?  The scheduled elections are in three weeks."



"Not anymore."



"Are you and your friends overthrowing the current government and setting up your own rules for elections?"



"Where have you been the last two weeks?  Don't you know what's been going on?"

 

"I've been … busy," Brian replied a little sheepishly.  He had cut himself off from everything including the news.  "What's happened?"



"Stockwell dropped out of the race.  His numbers fell so low and he started getting other dissatisfied voters showing up at his photo ops, asking embarrassing questions and heckling him.  Seems you started a trend."

 

"Shit!  He quit?"



"Yeah, sent in his request to be taken off the ballot five days ago."



"Sweet!"

 

"We thought so too.  It meant that Mayor Deakins was in by acclamation and we can live with his limited brand of liberalism.  But then the unthinkable happened."

 

"What?" Brian asked knowing it must be something big.

 

"The day after Stockwell resigned Deakins was out jogging, collapsed from a heart attack and died in the hospital."



"Holy shit!  I really have been out of the picture."



"The deputy mayor is running the city for now and plans to try his luck in the mayoralty race.  The only problem is, he isn't nearly as liberal as Deakins.  In fact he is a hell of a lot like Stockwell.  We don't want him winning the election.  The deadline for entries to run for mayor is day after tomorrow.  Then there will be one month of campaigning.  We need a strong candidate to put up against him.  We think that candidate is you."



"How in the fuck did you come up with me?"



"As I said, we have our eyes and ears watching the political scene.  We hate the way things have been drifting into a police state since Bush took office.  We don't want that kind of climate here in Pittsburgh."



"Why didn't you try to stop Stockwell?"



"We did, but you were doing such a fine job of promoting him that we weren't making much headway.  Then those posters started popping up.  They seemed to rattle Stockwell at first, but then he came out with that "one of my close friends and advisors" speech.  When we realized who this close friend and advisor was, we decided we had to take action.  Before we could come up with a plan, the GLC thing happened.  We heard rumblings that you were behind it.  Then the incident of opening the backroom at Babylon was reported to us, and finally your dismissal from Vangard.  We decided you had switched sides and Stockwell was dead in the water as soon as you did that."



"If I can switch sides so easily, why would you want a fickle son of a bitch like me to be running the city?  I might decide to have every pizza parlor shut down, or every strip joint.  You have no idea what I might do."



"You're far too smart for dumb acts like that."

 

"How do you know?  I could be a crazed killer or a latent Republican for all you know."



"As I said, we've been investigating and watching.  We think you have a certain liberal mentality and laissez-faire attitude that would be good for business and culture in our city."

 

Brian studied the man.  He was still having a hard time believing that he was serious about all this.  "I don't have the best reputation in these parts, as you alluded to before.  Wouldn't that come up in an election?  The straight people would have a fit and my opponent would have a field day with it."

 

"We considered that.  You have an honesty that can be disarming.  I'm sure you could handle it."



"You have more fucking faith in my abilities than I do."

 

"I don't think that's true.  You have quite a bit of faith in yourself or you wouldn't have risen as far as you did in the advertising business."



"And now I'm back at the bottom.  So how can that be a plus?"



"You are out of work.  I'm offering you the potential of a great new job where you can have some real influence and shape the future of this city."



Brian scowled.  He hated Pittsburgh, always wanted to get out, but now he was being asked to run the place.  "I just don't see how this could work.  Thanks, but no thanks."

 

"Brian, I'm not taking no for an answer.  I want you to think about this tonight.  Maybe talk to some of your friends or family.  See what they think.  I'll call you tomorrow for your answer, and I'll respect that answer whichever way it goes."

 

"Either you've been hallucinating or I am!" Brian said. 

 

Charles chuckled.  "No.  I have all my faculties and I still want you."

 

He rose and held out his hand to shake Brian's.  Brian took it tentatively and felt the firmness and commitment in that simple gesture.  This guy was for real.

 

"I'll think about what you've said, but I hope you have an alternative lined up because we both know what my answer's going to be."



"Do we?" Charles asked as he walked to the door.  "Don't be too sure.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."



"Sure," Brian said as he pulled the door closed behind his guest.

 

What the fuck had that all been about?

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