Ethan’s apartment.

Ethan and Justin are lying in bed post-coital. Classical music playing softly.

"Let’s do something tonight." Justin said propping himself up on one elbow.

"We are doing something." Ethan turned on his side and caressed Justin’s chest and abdomen.

"I mean something to blow off steam. Like dancing. I love to dance. It’s a great way to de-stress

"Is that even a word?"

"Come on it’ll be fun."

"Babylon?"

"No." Justin answered defensively. "There are lots of clubs. The Boy Toy is fun and everyone is more our age."

"But you’re underage."

"I have a fake ID?"

Ethan rolled onto this back; his face contorted into a grimace.

"Clubs aren’t my scene. Too loud, hot, sweaty bodies, too much smoke, and the music...its all that canned techno shit."

"Everything you don’t like about the clubs is everything I do."

Ethan shrugged. He was definitely not with the club scene suggestion. Justin tried another.

"Okay, so how about a movie? There’s Spiderman. I’ve wanted to see that for a while or the new Star Wars movie. That looks cool."

"My dear boy, I thought you were brought up in a country club setting, with culture and class. There’s a great independent being shown on campus. Why don’t we check that out? Or a couple of my friends are playing jazz down at the Ravel. It’s a great old nightclub real laid back."

"Why are you acting so fucking superior? I don’t want laid back or culture. I want noise and people."

"Justin I didn’t mean to sound...."

Justin got up and grabbed his clothes.

"I may have grown up a ‘country club brat’, but that doesn’t mean I have to turn my nose up at everything. Yes I like culture. I like classical music. I do enjoy a good independent film and I even read big books with lots of words and no pictures."

Ethan got out of bed and tried to hold him. Justin jerked away.

"Come on Justin. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but sometimes your tastes are so..."

"Immature?"

"Maybe a little."

"Maybe that’s because I’m 19! You can pretend to be 40 if you want, but I intend on enjoying my youth which includes clubbing, drinking, going to huge commercial movies that have no moral value or make some goddamn political statement!"

"He turned you into quite the clone."

"Oh...that’s fair. Like I don’t get enough fucking jabs about what I did to him. Now you’re going to start? I’m tired of this shit Ethan."

Ethan realized what he’d said and stepped in front of Justin before he could leave.

"I’m sorry. Okay? Look it’s been a crazy time for both of us. I know I can be a pretentious asshole. It’s because I’m trying so hard to be something better than what I came from. You can understand that...right?"

Justin calmed down and nodded. He understood. Even if he did come from a middle-class family, it sure as hell was far from perfect. Ethan pulled him into a hug. Justin relaxed against him forgiving him.

Ethan pulled away and started getting dressed.

"Tonight’s yours babe. You want to go dancing?"

Justin’s solemn face broke into a smile, not the sunshiny smile he reserved for Brian, but a smile.

"Then dancing it is."

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

The baths.

Brian is on the prowl having taken two hits of E, deciding to leave the hard stuff alone for a while, he wanted a night of mindless fucking.

"Hey Bri it’s been awhile." It was Marty. The oldest and ugliest fag at the baths. He was a part of the decor of this hedonistic place.

"Yeah and don’t ask Marty."

"I just thought maybe after..."

"After what?"

"After that thing with the twink...you know..."

"That I’d be so fucked up I’d let you suck my dick?" Brian leaned in inches from the ugly man’s face. "I’ll never be ‘that’ desperate you ugly fat fuck!"

Brian’s harshness caused Marty to back up a few steps. "And I could give a shit about the twink." Easing back behind his mask Brian relaxed and gave Marty a half smile then put a friendly arm around his shoulders. "So any new dick?"

"Maybe... why should I tell you...asshole." He may be an ugly fuck, but he had bigger balls then Brian gave him credit for.

"Come on Marty. If you tell me, I’ll let you watch me fuck’em."

Shit, he may have big kahunas, but when it came to watching someone as beautiful as Brian Kinney fuck; any dignity he had....okay, so he never had any dignity.

"Promise?"

"Yes Marty if he’s ‘hot’." Brian cracked his gum and gave Marty a slap on the back to get him moving toward the night’s entertainment.

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

Lindsay and Melanie’s bedroom.

Melanie is already in bed. Lindsay finishes brushing her hair and starts to undress. Lindsay has been talking. Melanie isn’t really listening.

"I heard you. You’re worried about Brian. Jesus Linds do I have to hear this?"

Lindsay finished undressing and crawled in to bed next to Melanie.

"Yes you do. What you said was just plain mean."

"And what would you call it when he jumps in and steps all over our parenting?"

"Being a father. At least the best one he knows how to be. You met Jack. I think Brian’s doing exceptionally well considering the lousy role models he had."

"I’ll give him that. But you also have to look at the bigger picture. When was the last time he came over to see Gus?"

"I told you he’s still hurting."

"And how long are you going to give him that excuse? It’s been two months since ‘the breakup’."

"Michael says that he doesn’t think Brian is even trying to deal with Justin leaving. He’s doing the exact same thing he did after Justin was bashed. Don’t you see he doesn’t know how to get over things; he only knows how to push away his feelings. In all the years I’ve known Brian, he’s never dealt with loss or emotional pain. His way has always been to..."

"Fuck himself into oblivion? Use drugs and alcohol to forget? You always ignore the fact that I used to do the same thing. Maybe not to the excesses that Brian does. The difference is honey...when I found you that all changed."

"You don’t believe he can change do you?"

"Sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t think he can change. I don’t think he wants to."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it’s goddamn hard work that’s why. You believed in me and that was the one thing I needed to face my problems."

"Justin believes in him. We could talk to him..."

"Linds stop. Justin left. Their relationship wasn’t strong enough. Obviously, neither of them wanted it to really work because they both gave up."

"Justin’s young and his life has been a roller coaster ride since he met Brian. Their relationship had already withstood more shit than even we’ve had to deal with. I’m with Deb. Those two still love each other. What they need to learn is how."

"Oye... matchmaker, matchmaker." Melanie sang in Linds’ ear. "You and Deb both have your heads in the clouds where those two are concerned."

"Think what you will. Those two are meant for each other."

"Would you like to put a little wager on that?" Melanie laughed and started kissing her partner. Time to change the subject.

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

Deb’s house.

 Justin is in bed, but not asleep. He is staring at the ceiling. Inside his head a scene is being played out with the caricatures from ‘Rage.’. A young Byron Keats a.k.a ‘Rage’, is being abused verbally and physically by his drunken father. The images morph into flesh and blood. It’s a teenage Brian Kinney he sees now. His father pushes him then slaps him across the face, while spewing horrible hurtful words. Brian takes each hit with barely a hint of recoil, his eyes empty his expression blank.

Justin gets out of bed unable to deal with the images his imagination had conjured up. He turns on his computer and begins to draw.

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

A young boy, 12, sits at a dinner table, brown hair, big hazel eyes staring at a plate of food. He nods off almost dropping his head in the plate when a large man, 40's, walks in and grabs him by the hair.

"I told you sonnyboy. You ain’t leavin this table till you finish every bit of food on that plate!"

The boy’s eyes narrow in a defiant glare.

"You think you’re palate is too good for the food I bring into this house?"

The man pounds his is fist on the table next to the boy. The kid jumps, but the defiant face remains intact.

"Now eat goddamnit!"

A woman enters the kitchen, face drawn and tight, short dark hair in her mid-30's.

"Jack keep your voice down. The neighbors will hear, and you know how much I hate that language."

"Shut up! I’m the man in this house. I’m the one who feeds ya, keeps a roof over your heads, clothes on your back so you just shut up or I’ll give you some of what this little bastard’s about to get if he don’t finish that fucking food! You hear me sonnyboy? You eat or get the belt it’s your choice."

The boy stands up and boldly faces the large man. He’s small and slight compared to the large man, but has the countenance of a caged animal. The boy picks up the plate and throws it against the wall.

"I’ll take the belt. At least then I can get some fucking sleep!"

The mother gasps then puts her trembling hands over her mouth and runs from the room. The man and the boy stare at each other. There is no fear in the kid’s eyes. He knows what’s coming and doesn’t care. The man undoes his belt, jerks it out of his belt loops, grabs the boy roughly by the arm and spins him around pushing his torso onto the table leaving his backside exposed. The man wields back his arm.

Brian jumps awake in his bed sweating and breathing hard. The phone is ringing. Brian crawls to the phone near the bed not totally awake yet and still shaking from the dream.

"This better be..."

"Brian! Oh...god...Gus...he got too close to the swing...Billy was playing. Mel’s out of town..." Lindsay’s voice is drowned out by Gus’ screams. " It’s okay sweetheart...you’ll be okay."

"Lindsay!" Brian screamed into the phone to get her attention.

"Gus got hit in the head by a swing. I need you to take us to the hospital. Please hurry."

Brian threw the phone onto his bed, stumbled into his jeans and a shirt, grabbed his shoes and coat. Then ran out the door barefoot almost forgetting to shut the door behind him.

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

Early morning at Debs.

Justin comes into the kitchen and plops down into a chair. Vic is making breakfast.

"Omelet?"

"Sure. Deb at the diner already?"

"Yeah, early, early shift. Sheryl called in sick ‘again’. You want everything in it?"

"Yeah." Justin answered then yawned loudly. "I need coffee." He got up and poured himself a cup.

"You need more beauty sleep Sunshine. Did you even go to sleep last night?"

"A few hours. I needed to get the last of the ‘Rage’ cells drawn." Justin glanced up at the ‘retro’ cat clock above the sink. "Isn’t his tail supposed to be moving?"

"Whose tail?"

"On that ugly... uh the cat clock?"

Vic looked up. "Yeah, I noticed that it stopped yesterday. I put batteries in it, but I think the poor thing’s done for. Funny...Deb won’t replace it though."

"So what time is it?"

"Shit! Fuck. Double fuck me!" Justin dumped his coffee and cup in the sink, ran upstairs and ran back down seconds later with his coat and backpack.

"Late huh?"

"Incredibly." Justin stopped short at the door to fish a computer disk out of his backpack.

"Vic, could you please do me an enormous favor..."

"Get this to Michael." Vic finished for him. Justin nods, handed over the disk and ran out the door.

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

Hospital emergency exam room.

Brian is holding Gus bouncing him trying to settle him down while he holds an ice bag to the bump on his forehead. Lindsay is pacing.

"I only looked away for a minute."

"That’s all it takes."

Lindsay ignores Brian’s reply, continuing to pace and think out loud.

"We should have waited on the swing set until he was older."

Lindsay stopped pacing and faced Brian. The guilt of seeing her child hurt right in front of her is a huge hit to her ego as a mother.

"I just want Gus to have all the things I had as a child. I always remember the swing set in the backyard. It was my favorite place to be."

"When you were ‘two’?" Brian’s tone is accusing and sarcastic.

"No, but we had so many kids come to his party and he’ll grow into it."

"Oh so it’s about being the ‘my kid has everything’ parents in the neighborhood?"

"Shut up Brian! It’s not like that."

The doctor walked in before the argument could escalate. Gus is quiet, but dada is still very angry at Lindsay’s neglect.

"The x-rays show no sign of a fracture or hematoma and since you said he never lost consciousness, I think its safe to say it’s just nasty a bump on the head."

Brian snorts sarcastically and looks at Lindsay. "‘Just’ a bump on the head." Brian mocks the doctor.

Lindsay glares at Brian then smiles and turns to the doctor.

"If you see any of the signs listed in this brochure bring him back immediately, but I think a little Tylenol and a nap will probably do the trick."

"Thank you doctor. I feel so bad about this."

"Come on let’s get out of here." Brian grabbed Gus’ blanket and draped it around him. They exit the exam room.

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

Justin is working on a painting in a studio at the art school. His hand quivers.

"Fuck!" He stops, puts the paint brush in his left hand and shakes out his right.

Ethan enters without knocking, concerned.

"You okay? I could hear you from the hallway. What’s wrong?"

Ethan walks over and takes Justin’s hand and massages it. "You will." He continued to rub Justin’s hand. "You know I’ve never believed the story." Ethan stated then watched Justin's face to prove his theory.

"It’s not a story." Justin pulled his hand away.

"Then why don’t you have any scars on your hand?" Ethan pushed.

"Leave it alone Ethan...please."

"Why can’t I know what really happened?" He hated the idea of Justin keeping something so major from him. Knowing it was probably connected to the ‘ex’ made him even more curious.

"I told you what happened. My alcoholic grandmother smashed my hand in a car door when I was ten years old." Justin added an angry edge to his words hoping Ethan would leave it alone. He simply didn’t want to tell him about that night, he wouldn’t understand anyway and probably see it as Brian’s fault.

After a long pause, Ethan stepped around to get a look at Justin’s painting. Before he could get a good look Justin dropped a cloth over it.

"Wait, I want to get a peek at your Picasso."

"Not yet. It’s pretty rough right now and..." Before Justin could stop him Ethan pulled the cloth away from the painting. It’s rough, but it’s plain that it is a portrait of Brian carrying Gus on his shoulders. Justin bit his lip in anticipation of a negative response regarding the subject matter.

"It’s beautiful. It sure shows a different side of ‘him’." The portrait wasn’t a big shock to Ethan. ‘He’ was beautiful. His kid would probably be equally attractive. People liked pictures of beautiful things. That’s all ‘he’ was Ethan reasoned...beautiful.

Justin is surprised and smiles with pride.

"Brian’s a good father he always looks so alive when he’s with Gus."

Justin became quiet and thoughtful as he stood back and really looked at his work.

"Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving and you’ve probably been in here for hours without any sustenance. Am I correct?"

"Correct."

Ethan took Justin by the hand and escorted him out of the studio and away from thoughts about ‘him.’

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

Brian followed Lindsay into the house. She has Gus who is now in a much better mood. She sets him down in the living room. He goes to his toy box next to the couch and starts handing dada toys.

"You hungry? I can make you a sandwich or something."

"No, I'm fine. I could use a beer though."

Lindsay goes into the kitchen and gets a beer out of the refrigerator. The refrigerator door doesn’t close all the way. She returns to the living room and hands Brian the beer. He takes a long first swig and slumps onto the couch.

"You look like shit Brian."

"Getting ripped out of my beauty sleep by a distraught lesbian will do that to you."

"I'm sorry...I panicked and Mel wasn't here."

"What happened to the fiercely independent dyke I knew in college? You throw your balls out the window when you said I do?"

"Thank you for being so supportive...prick!"

"And you bitch at me for swearing around the kid?"

"Look Brian! I know you're pissed at me for Gus getting hurt, so why don't 'you' have the balls to look me in the eye and tell me what a rotten mother I am!"

Brian stood up and faced her.

"I have no intentions of feeding your insecurities as a parent, that's why!"

Neither of them see Gus go into the kitchen.

"Why not? It never seems to bother you to tell everyone else when they've fucked up. Say it Brian. Tell me that Gus got hurt because I neglected to pay close enough attention!"

"So what the fuck were you doing when the kid slammed the swing into his head?"

"I told you he was right next to me digging in the garden and then before I knew it he walked behind Bobby! Do you understand how fast a two-year old child can be? No, no you don't because you don't take care of him 24 hours a day. You're DADA, the guy who comes around once a ‘month’ to play or save him from his mean ol' mommies!"

"That can change. It should change. I've decided that I want to have Gus with me at least two weekends out of the month."

Lindsay laughs incredulously. "That's funny Brian. The last time you had him for the weekend you shoved him off on Justin so you could go to the leather ball and get your dick sucked!"

"At least he was safe!" Brian spits the words directly into Lindsay’s face. She slaps him. He steps back stunned.

Melanie enters. "What the hell is going on? I could hear you from the street."

They both stare at her.

"Where's Gus?"

Lindsay rushed into the kitchen followed by Melanie. Gus is sitting on the floor next to the open refrigerator door. He has a plastic ketchup bottle in his tiny hands and is throughly covered in the red goo.

"Christ that damn refrigerator door. Linds you have to make sure it’s shut."

"God can I do anything right today?"

Lindsay wets a dish towel to begin the initial baby clean up. Brian enters the kitchen. His face turns pale at the sight of Gus with the ketchup all over him.

Lindsay hands the wet towel to Mel and sees Brian.

"Brian? Brian its okay; its ketchup that's all."

He is immersed in flashbacks. Justin's smiling face as Brian yells his name. The bat hitting Justin. Brian kneeling over Justin as he lies on the cement floor of the parking garage covered in blood. The blood covered scarf.

Brian stumbles backward his eyes are wide and blinking rapidly. He shakes his head and trying to regain his composure. Lindsay takes his arm, but he pulls away.

Mel looks up from cleaning Gus.

"What’s wrong with him?"

Then she looks down at the towel she has been wiping Gus with.

"Oh shit."

Gus repeats the word.

"Brian, sit down; its okay."

Brian pulls away from her and runs out the door. Lindsey runs after him. Outside she sees him jump into the Jeep. "No! Brian you shouldn't..."

It's too late. He has the Jeep started, shot backward out of the drive way and tore down the street tires squealing.

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