Choices and Outcomes 

 

Dartmouth

 

Justin's father had left about a half hour ago.  He was going to stay in a hotel and head back to Pittsburgh in the morning.  He had given his son one more chance, one more chance to make something of himself, one more chance to reject his disgusting lifestyle and one more chance to put that fucking Brian Kinney out of his life forever.

 

Justin lay on his bed, mulling over all the things his father had demanded once again, all the things he had agreed to once again.

 

He truly had not expected another chance.  He was sure his father was going to tell him to pack his shit and get out of the residence.  He thought he would be sitting on a park bench somewhere instead of here in his nice, warm room that suddenly felt as cold as ice.  Cold, just like his insides.  The last promise he had made to his father had drained all feeling from him.  He was empty and he had nothing to fill him up.

 

He wondered why he had agreed to everything.  He should have told his father to fuck off.  Then he could have gone out and stood in front of a bus.  But that would have been too easy, and he never took the easy way out.  The same thing that had made him fight his way back from the coma, made him refuse to die now.  Death would have been so much easier, so much more welcome than what awaited him.  Chris Hobbs should have finished him off when he had the chance. Justin saw ahead of him three years of living in isolation, three years of loneliness, three years of nothingness.  Only to be followed by the rest of his miserable life. 

 

Pittsburgh - The Loft

 

Brian had barely slept since he returned from Hanover.  He kept replaying his encounter with Justin, wondering if he could have done or said anything that would have made the young man come home with him.  He still wasn't ready to tell Justin that he loved him.  He didn't know if he'd ever be able to say that to anyone, because he didn't know what that meant.

 

He did care about Justin, more than he had ever cared about anyone before, but he didn't know if that meant love.  Love was some mysterious thing that straight people and lesbians declared to each other, usually just before they screwed everything up and hurt each other.  He did know that he was very worried about Justin, about his attitude and his resignation to this way of life that his father demanded of him.

 

He would call Jennifer in an hour or two, as soon as he figured out what he could say that might get her to help him.  If she wouldn't help he didn't know what he was going to do.

 

He got up from the bed and went into the shower.  He had to think about this a little more.  He had to say the right things to Jennifer. He just had to. 

 

Dartmouth

 

Justin heard pounding.  He rolled over and listened.  Someone was knocking on his door.  He pulled the pillow over his head and hoped whoever it was would go away.  He didn't want to see anyone or talk to anyone.

 

The knocking continued.  He groaned and reached over to open the door.

 

"Go away!" he said and slammed the door shut.

 

"Justin!" Ric called.  "Justin!  Please, open the door.  I'm worried about you."

 

"Fuck!" Justin muttered.  "Go away!" he repeated.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me.  I need to know that you're all right."

Justin groaned again.  How was he supposed to keep his promises when nobody would leave him alone to live his fucking miserable life in peace?

 

Justin stood up.  His mouth was dry from all the crying he had done and his head throbbed with a dull ache.  He pulled the door open.  "Come in!" he ordered.  This was the last thing he wanted to do.

 

Ric stepped into the room and turned to face Justin.  "Are you all right?  I waited all night to hear from you, but you never came to tell me what happened with your father."

 

"I'm still alive, and I'm still here," Justin said.

 

"You look awful.  What happened?"

"I don't want to get into it.  I'm fine.  You can go," Justin dismissed him.

 

"Justin?"  Ric wanted an explanation.

 

"There's nothing more to say," Justin said.

 

"But I thought you'd want to talk.  Maybe I can help."

 

"You can help by leaving, and don't come back," Justin said, determined to cut all ties with anyone who might make his father angry.

 

"But…but…" Ric sputtered.

 

"I can't see you again.  I don't want to see you again."  Justin opened the door and Ric walked out.  He turned to look at Justin to see if he could get an explanation of this weird behavior.  Justin quietly shut the door in his face.

 

Justin sighed.  That was what he was going to have to do – shut the door in the face of everyone and everything that he wanted and loved.  Then he would be able to keep his promises.  Then he would be totally alone.  Then his father would be pleased. 

 

Pittsburgh

 

Brian picked up the phone for the third time.  He had to call Jennifer if he wanted to get Justin back to Pittsburgh and the life he deserved.  He had started dialing twice before, but had hung up before he finished, still not sure what to say.

 

This time he finished dialing the number and held his breath while he waited to see if she would answer.

 

"Hello," he heard Jennifer say.

 

"Jennifer?  It's … It's Brian Kinney."

 

"Oh?" Jennifer said, obviously surprised to hear from him again.  "Is something wrong?"

 

"Yes," he said.  "Something's wrong with Justin."

"What do you mean?  What's happened?" she asked with a hint of panic in her voice.

 

"He's not hurt …physically," Brian clarified.

 

"Thank God!"

 

"But I'm really worried about him."

"Why?"

 

"I went to Hanover when you told me where he was.  I asked him to come back to Pittsburgh and go to PIFA.  He wouldn't listen.  He refused to come back."

"Brian, he made the choice to go there.  He doesn't want to come back."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Not since the day he went there with his father.  He made his own decision, Brian."

 

"I know he did, but I don't think he felt he had any other choice, and he does have other choices."

 

"Brian, just because he refused to come back when you asked him, doesn't mean that there's something wrong."

 

"He sounded so defeated, so demoralized," Brian tried to explain.

"Are you sure that isn't your ego talking, because he turned you down?"

'Shit!' Brian thought. 'This isn't going the way I hoped it would.'  He scrambled to think of something else to convince her.  "Jennifer, would you do me a favor and call him?  Just talk to him and you'll see what I mean."

Jennifer sighed.  "I don't really want to get in the middle of this.  Justin asked his father to help him and I don't want to interfere."

"This is your son's life we're talking about, for Christ's sake!"  Brian couldn't believe his ears.

 

"Brian … I … I'll call him, but I'm not going to try to influence him."

"Okay, but you'll see what I mean when you talk to him.  Call me afterwards."

"All right," She said and hung up.

 

Brian slammed down the receiver.  Everything hinged on how Justin would sound when he talked to his mother.  If she didn't want to hear the desperation in his voice, then she probably wouldn't.  "Fuck!" he said.  What was he going to do now? 

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