Peacock

 
Spurred by the Massey/Kinney project, now known as "Camelot on Tremont", Pittsburgh, like its more affluent sister, San Francisco was rapidly becoming a Mecca for working class gays. With their midwestern dollars stretching further, a resurgence of the decadence of the 80's was beginning to take hold, so much that Liberty Avenue was hosting it's first major fashion show. The Gay & Lesbian center had been transformed into its own version of a New York fashion week runway. Headlining this fledgling extravaganza was fashion's newest "it-boy", Franco. Lauded for his fusion of contemporary conservative, with a hint of glamour, Franco was also known for commissioning what he called "real men" in his lineup along with professional runway models. Among this year's catwalk draftees were Camelot's Royal Trio, and arguably the hunkiest chiropractor in Pittsburgh, Dr. David Cameron.
 
Justin and Tony made their way through the invitation only attendees to their coveted first row seats. "So this is what the rich people do on their Saturday afternoons. They sit and watch clothing march back & forth," Justin said.
 
"Some rich people, the ones who lack any real passion in their lives, the ones who fill their voids with shopping." Tony settled in his seat.
 
"That's kind of sad," Justin said.
 
"Yes it is," Tony agreed. "So why haven't you attempted to go back to school? You've already lost one semester. Is it now your goal to become one of those people who spend their time watching clothing?"
 
Justin could feel the color drain from his face. "How did you know I wasn't in school?" he asked.
 
"My credit card statements don't lie. What other Justin Taylor would be using my Visa card in the middle of the day? You've been cut off by the way. If you think I'm going to play "sugardaddy" to a little blonde, bimbo twink you're wrong." Tony opened his program, and began to read.
 
"I'm not a bimbo." Justin frowned. "Dean Rice kicked me out for taking too many days off when Brian was sick."
 
"Is that all?" Tony asked.
 
Justin was hesitant to admit that there were other reasons why he hadn't spoken to Dean Rice. With the climate of the country slowly changing, being separate from the status quo wasn't easy. Little by little straight people were just starting to get used to same sex couples. The Royal Trio on the other hand represented exactly what fundamentalists predicted. First gay adoptions, then gay marriages, and now gay polygamy? Where would it end? Justin's relationship with his two princes had run the gamut from envy, to ridicule, to scorn by his classmates, as well as several instructors. Pittsburgh's Institute of Fine Arts was no longer a peaceful haven for the binding member of The Royal Trio.
 
Tony closed his program, and turned toward Justin. "Justin, are you happy working as a graphic artist for Brian?" he asked.
 
"I like working at Kinnetics. I like the climate there," Justin said.
 
"Kinnetics is Brian's dream. What's your dream, princess?" Tony asked.
 
Justin thought for a moment. "I want to be like you and Brian. I want to own my own business, maybe run my own gallery someday," he said.
 
"And how are you going to accomplish that?" Tony asked.
 
"I'm not sure." Justin shrugged his shoulders.
 
"Princess, you're in a position where you could easily fall into a Paris Hilton syndrome. You have too much talent to forfeit your dreams by shopping, and lunching all day. You need to be in school, nurturing your gift, and preparing yourself for whatever the world has to throw at you. Brian is a prime example of how far a first class education can take you," Tony said.
 
"You never went to college, and you seem to have done alright," Justin reminded him.
 
"You're not me." Tony smiled. "I want you to do something for me princess. First thing Monday morning, I want you to go see Dean Rice, and get back in school. We'll take it one degree at a time, first your bachelors, then masters.... I forget what comes after that."
 
"Doctoral." Justin laughed.
 
Justin and Tony's heart to heart talk was interrupted by a tastefully attired older woman. The stranger wiggled her way down the line of assigned seats, and sat down next to Tony. "Anthony Massey? I'm surprised to see you here, sitting in the front row. How are you Justin?" she said without taking a breath.
 
Justin looked to Tony for the introduction.
 
"Justin, this is Ava Flowers. Ms Flowers is the editor & chief of Cosmopolitan Magazine," Tony said.
 
"How are you Ms Flowers?" Justin reached across Tony to shake the lady's hand.
 
"Ava, please call me Ava. Oh my, he is beautiful, Tony. You're a very lucky man. So why aren't you two in the show? How can Liberty Avenue hold its first major fashion show without its first family?" Ava wanted to know.
 
"Justin is recovering from minor surgery. We decided to sit this one out," Tony said.
 
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," Ava cooed.
 
"I'm fine, thank you," Justin assured her.
 
"I assume then that Brian will be representing The Royal Trio?" Ava smiled.
 
"You've assumed right. Brian is the true peacock of the family. I'm sure he'll do us proud," Tony said.
 
"Indeed." Ava settled back in her seat to watch the who's who of Pittsburgh society file in.

 
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Backstage could be described as nothing less than chaotic with models, hair stylists, makeup artists, last minute ripped seams, and misplaced accessories all going on at the same time. Franco was near panic, just as he was at every showing. His spring collection this year focused on color. A deep sapphire blue, three piece suit had been selected for the auburn haired Brian Kinney of Kinnetics.
 
"Remember, Brian that it's all about the vest, and the lining of the jacket. When you get to the end of the runway, I want that to be your focus." Franco gave his last minute instructions, before moving on to the next model.
 
David turned around, and looked at Brian. "I'm surprised to see you here, Brian. I would think that this venue would be more suited for Tony, than for you," he said casually.
 
"It's a fashion showing. You know me, I like to keep up with what's current. It's true what they say about clothes making the man. For example, those "Dockers" and polo that you wore here today just scream middle age retiree." Brian took the cheap shot.
 
"Just like those too tight jeans, and tee that you wore here today scream over the hill club boy," David struck back.
 
"Are you still watching my jeans, Dave?" Brian smiled.
 
"Hardly." David chuckled. "There's no more mystery left in your jeans, Brian. That cock of yours has been on display in every backroom, and bath house in and around the Pittsburgh area."
 
"Yeah, I have to admit, it has served me well. Speaking of serving, Tony loves it, and he loves it served raw." Brian drove the knife in, and twisted it.
 
"This is it! We're about to begin the show. Remember you're going to take the two steps up, then walk out, and strike a pose before proceeding down the runway. This is your moment to shine! You all look marvelous. I want to see you sell it." Franco gave his final words of encouragement. With everyone now in viewing formation, the music started. One by one the models inched their way to the front of the line unaware of David and Brian's private war of words.
 
"It's that sleaze factor. A man can have a perfectly respectable partner, and he'll still go after the neighborhood whore," David continued.
 
Brian could feel his temper nearing its boiling point. "I know exactly what you mean, Dave. I once knew a man who had a perfectly respectable partner at home, but that didn't stop him from sneaking off to the baths to get his dick pulled," he said.
 
"Speaking of getting one's dick pulled, how is Justin these days? I would imagine he's pretty loose by now, having to service both you, and Tony." David smirked.
 
 

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Tony and Justin watched along with the rest of the packed house as Franco defined what the male fashionistas would be wearing for spring. First the entrance pose, followed by the catwalk run. Each new outfit was greeted with oohs & ahhs. Suddenly, without warning there was a loud thump at the runway entrance. There sprawled across the floor, on his belly was Dr. David Cameron. The crowd's initial reaction was that of shock, until Brian Kinney made his appearance. With the humiliated doctor struggling to get to his feet, Brian placed one foot strategically in the center of David's back, and used him as a stepping stone. The crowd erupted, first with laughter, then with thunderous applause for this new rebel of the runway. Brian rewarded their adulation with a strut that would put Tyra Banks to shame. Upon reaching the end of the runway he unbuttoned his deep sapphire jacket to reveal appropriately a vest, with matching jacket lining in the colors, and the pattern of a peacock's plumage.
 
"That was great. Was that staged?" Justin stood in ovation with the others.
 
Tony's eyes scanned the room where fashion writers were already texting, and cell phone cameras were still rolling. By tomorrow this was going to be the talk of the town, and all over YouTube. Ava Flowers was like a deer in the headlights when she looked over at Tony for answers. The strongest member of The Royal Trio could feel the color rush to his face, as he searched for something to say that would explain what had just happened.
 
"See, I told you. Brian is the true peacock of the family." Tony smiled.
 
"Indeed," Ava managed to say.

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