by Trisky
"You know it's not safe to just leave your door unlocked like that."
I feel my hands grasping at the bark of the tree, only it feels fleshy and warm and if I look closely enough it looks like someone's face. It is someone's face. It's Brian's face. It's my fingers practically clawing the skin off his cheek and from his expression, if I don't stop soon, my hand won't be returned to me with all of my fingers attached. I shake my head, and rub the sleep from my eyes, resting my chin on his chest, taking in his countenance. He doesn't motion for me to get off him, he just holds my back tighter, his eyes focused on something on the wall behind my head. Maybe he regrets spending the night with me, maybe it was too much for me to ask of him. I hear a crackling sound coming from the same direction he stares at, and I turn to investigate it's origins.
"I thought I'd bring you breakfast. I guess I should have called first and made sure I brought enough." He waves the bag around, dejectedly. It's almost like his entire body sways with the effort it takes to keep standing. His face is so stricken, I may as well have kicked him in it, it might have hurt less. I'm stuck, I don't know which way to turn or what to say first, or to whom. My brain tells me I should be scurrying right now, pushing myself off of Brian and explaining that it's not what it looks like, but it is what it looks like and my instincts tell me that they'd both appreciate the truth. The truth is I don't feel guilt, though I know I should, and the truth is I'm in no hurry to get up, because this is the most relaxed I've felt in weeks and I know that makes me the most selfish shit that ever lived, at this moment.
I untangle my limbs slowly, and roll off of Brian, onto my back, an overwhelming feeling of emptiness settling into my stomach. I just want to close my eyes and go back to sleep and pretend this is all still part of some dream I'm not yet meant to understand. I feel Brian lifting himself up wordlessly, but with some sort of purpose, and I watch him helplessly, my body screaming to block him before he gets too far, but I'm fascinated by what he might do and I couldn't stop him even if I tried. Ethan flashes me a quick look of anger and disbelief that I've just left him to float in the breeze, all by himself. But most of all he looks disappointed, and I'm so fucking tired of seeing that look on his face, caused by something I've done or said, and I know I shouldn't blame him and I don't, but I do and I have this very strange notion that I can actually get up and bolt out of the door, without anyone noticing, before I do anymore damage and it gets me up on my feet, but that's as far as I go. I'm fascinated by the way they stand, like two actors in a play who've forgotten their lines, and I want to call out from the audience with their cues, only I've never seen this play before, and I was always much better with creating scenery than memorizing dialogue to try out for the lead roles.
"Did you bring coffee?"
Okay maybe that wouldn't have been the first line I gave Brian, something more along the lines of 'what the fuck do you want' or anything involving the word 'fuck' for that matter. Ethan just stares at him, dumbfounded as Brian takes the bag from his hands, rummaging through the contents and coming up with a croissant and a fresh cup of coffee. He smiles easily, a look of false gratitude on his face, as he sips it, seating himself in the same position he was in last night, eating pizza and trying his best to avoid the real reason he'd come to see me. I feel a nervous laugh building in my gut at the lunacy of this situation, and Brian's pointed obliviousness, but I suppress it out of better judgment and common propriety.
"A slice of pizza?" He offers Ethan cold leftovers, with all the practiced courtesy of a well mannered host. He grins at me with his teeth and not much else. "You should have told me we'd be having company I'd have to greet Justin, I would have at least brought a toothbrush." He turns back to Ethan, still waiting for him to move an inch. "Please forgive my breath, I can still taste some of that really rich sauce from last night, it must stink." He leers at Ethan like he wants to snap his neck or fuck him into unconsciousness, I'm not sure.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Good question, Ethan, you get bonus points for the day's first use of the word fuck. I guess I really should stick with painting trees and cutting out leaves in the background. I suck at this casting the right person for the right role thing.
"I... uh... Ethan, I, well, um...Brian just... we just... I..."
"Will you just spit it out already? I simply can't take the anticipation a moment longer," he says evenly, a lifetime of rehearsed boredom serving him well.
"Shutup Brian." He waves me off with a slight flick of his wrist, slurping quietly on his coffee. It's the first articulate thing I've said this morning. He looks almost innocent with his feet dangling about in socks and the top button of his jeans undone, his long body stretched over the small stool at my kitchen counter. I'd like nothing more than to keep him there all day, and try to capture him as he appears now, soft. I relax my tense shoulders, studying his form, but I can feel Ethan's eyes boring holes into the back of my head and now I feel guilt, but not for his benefit.
"Don't let him get to you Justin, ignore him, say what you have to say and take as long as you want." I can tell from the way his brown eyes dart back and forth between us, that he feels like he's walked into some warped situation he'll never understand, that he doesn't want to, and that makes me glad, because I'm suddenly feeling protective of it, I don't want him to understand.
"It's not like that, don't jump to conclusions." I start to get defensive and I know Brian is watching my every move, as calm as he appears to be, his feet keep swaying back and forth. It's what he does, when his hands are already occupied as they are now with the cup of coffee, he has to keep moving somehow when he gets anxious. He's waiting for me to reveal something, some kind of clue about where my head is at. No, that's not it, he's waiting for me to reveal him. To Ethan. I go to apologize, but the words just don't come, because I don't want them to, I don't feel sorry. "So this is pretty awkward, huh?"
I let out the laugh I'd been holding in, and it comes out as a strangled giggle, but no one laughs with me. Ethan just stares as if I'm some stranger he's never met and Brian just stares at him, staring at me, daring him. I feel like it's my turn to have forgotten the lines now, that this play can't proceed until I say the crucial line that leads into the final act. I want to run and hide behind my fake cardboard trees, shake the leaves until they fall off and distract everyone from center stage.
"So what is this? Some kind of sick game the two of you play?" There goes Ethan, always ready with the big save.
"I guess he forgot to tell you this is how we get our kicks."
"Brian, please! You're not helping." He shrugs, meaningfully. Everything with him is fucking meaningful, can't he just be simple for once in his life? Can't he throw a jealous hissy fit like the rest of the sane universe?
"Seems like Justin forgot to tell me quite a few things, like the fact that he was seeing you again, didn't you Justin?"
I want to slap Brian upside the head, force him to look at Ethan and see how a man should react when his territory is being invaded and then I want to slap Ethan upside the head for his queening out and thinking I'm his territory to queen out over. My God, Brian is right, I am a drama princess.
"I didn't realize it was any of your business whom Justin sees." Yeah, what he said!
"It became my business the minute he started seeing me."
Hey... HEY! That's just not right. I open my mouth to speak, but I have a feeling that I could have made it out before and neither of them would have noticed, from the way they're staring daggers at each other.
"How about I decide who I see when I want to see them?" I point at myself, and they both break their stare to look in my direction. I have the floor again, and I'd like it to open up and swallow me into some alternate vortex where men in loincloths feed me grapes all day and Brian worships at my altar at least three times a day. Ethan can fiddle in the background, for some mood music. Yes, that's what I'd like. Maybe they could have a gladiator fight to the death, over me. If I'm going to be a drama princess I may as well go all out and shoot for drama queen. I've got nothing to lose at this point, except everything. "Besides I'm not seeing anyone, so I shouldn't have to explain myself to anyone either." I look at both of them, hoping they both get the message.
Shit, why should I have to be the one to pull off a one man show with all eyes on me? I'm not the one with the ego large enough to think I could. Either one of them would do just fine.
"So what the fuck do you call what we've been doing for two months?"
Brian looks at me with interest, wanting to hear my answer almost as much as Ethan. Fucking? Having fun? Wasting time? Playing around? "Escaping."
Christ, of course now would be the time I remember all my fucking lines. We are so far from the final act, we've moved onto the sequel.
"Well that's..." He studies me for a moment and a fleeting moment of regret stabs me in my empty stomach. He simply nods his head with a grace that I wish I possessed, and he slaps an understanding look on his face. "If you don't feel comfortable talking with him here, I understand. I can wait."
Brian stands with no warning and Ethan doesn't flinch.
And that's when I see it.
"Don't fucking talk about me like I don't exist, little boy," he hisses. "I existed long before you were a faint one note little shrill sound in the distance and I'll exist long after you've played your last song riding off into the sunset."
Ethan falters back a step and Brian leans towards him, his arm spreading in front of me, protecting me from some imagined harm.
See him. For what seems like the first time.
"Yeah, you'll exist, like some kind of cancer that just keeps metastasizing."
An ephemeral wince takes over Brian's body and an empty, hollow victory replaces Ethan's cocksure stance.
His expression changes, some kind of pain registering all over his features, jaw set and locked in a permanent clench.
"Shutup Ethan!" I can't stand it, I don't want to hear something like that.
"I can't believe you're defending him again." He takes a deep breath, regards me like I'm a child who doesn't quite understand the concept of patience yet. "I'm leaving, because this all just a little too much drama for me, this early in the morning. I don't thrive on it, like the two of you seem to. Call me when you don't have to be afraid to talk for yourself."
I swear I see smoke stacks.
"What the FUCK do you know about him being afraid?"
"Brian, it's okay, it's not a big deal. Ethan's just upset, right Ethan? I'd be upset too. This is hard on all of us." I reach out to grab his shirt at the waist, try to keep him in place, try to keep some semblance of control before this spins out into something none of us are prepared for, but he just strains at my clutch.
"You think because you've fucked him for a couple of months, you've just got it all figured out? Well guess what, guess who he calls when he's afraid? When he needs something? Where were you?" He challenges a speechless Ethan who looks to me, beseeching me to explain that this is just more of the games Brian likes to play. Tell him that he's just a pawn, and he is, but not in the way he believes. He doesn't understand, and I don't want him to.
I look at the floor, rooted to the spot I stand in, straining to keep Brian from continuing, I've changed my mind, I don't want the drama. I'm content to be a stagehand.
"I'll call you Ethan." And I will. And I'll explain all of this somehow, with words that make sense. I'll have it all planned, because improvisation obviously doesn't work for us.
I watch him walk to the door, give us both one last look, his head involuntarily shaking back and forth in judgment. And just beyond him, I see the hallway, as he opens the door, and I realize I no longer have the urge to run and get lost in plain sight or otherwise.
I simply watch him close the door.