Kinnetic.
"Cynthia, do you know where your boss is?" Justin's voice was edged with concern.
"No. The jerk walked out of here at 10:00 this morning without saying a word.
I've been trying to get a hold of him all afternoon."
"Me too, his cell is off, no one answers at home and he hasn't talked to Michael in five days!"
"Five days? That's got to be a record. You don't think he slipped off to Ibiza again without..."
"No...no he wouldn't do that again. I mean he would have told me. Besides, I just talked to him last night. Cynthia...did...has Brian seemed out of it to you?"
"I'm not sure what you mean?"
"Out of it...distant...you know...like his mind is elsewhere."
"Well he has seemed kind of distracted. Ted and I just chalked it up to you being so far away. Why, do you think something's wrong?" Cynthia cringed remembering the last time her boss started going off the deep end.
"I don't...maybe. Maybe I should come home for a few days."
"Justin don't jump to conclusions. I'll have Ted look into it. He'll be able to tell if something is really wrong."
"Okay, but make sure Ted calls me as soon as he talks to Brian. Damn, I gotta go to a meeting. Tell Brian I called when you see him."
"Of course, and I'm sure Brian's fine." Cynthia didn't sound very convincing.
******************************************************************************************
The sound of a car alarm going off brought him around. Blinking
hard, Brian studied his surroundings. How had he gotten here? The last thing
he remembered was working on the latest Brown Athletics campaign. He looked
at his watch. 8:00pm, ten hours missing this time. He desperately tried to
hold back the panic attack he could feel rushing in on him. What the hell
was going on? How could he not remember what had happened over the last ten
hours? Why was he in the parking lot of a seedy motel? Looking around Brian
realized he wasn't even in Pittsburgh. And why in all that is holy was he
wearing Wrangler jeans, a t-shirt that looked like it belonged to Michael
and an old pair of converse tennis shoes?!!!!
Brian jumped when he heard his cell phone go off. It was buried in his suit jacket which was folded neatly on the passenger seat next to him, along with the rest of the clothing he remembered putting on this morning.
"Brian?.....Brian are you there? Answer me!" Justin tried, without success, to keep the alarm out of his voice.
"I'm here". Brian kept his voice calm. Justin was 2000 miles away, no need to give him cause to worry, at least not yet. Not until he had some explanation for his black outs.
"Are you at home?"
"I...uh...no I'm not at home, I'm in the car."
"Where are you, are you okay?" Justin spoke slowly.
"I'm fine. I'm going to drive home now. I'll call you when I get home." Brian ended the call and switched off the phone.
"Suck it up Kinney and just drive. There are plenty of drugs and booze at home you'll be fine." Brian told himself as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway. *****************************************************************************************
In Hollywood Justin dialed Brian's number again and got only his voice mail. The second number he dialed was to the airlines, the third to Brett Keller letting him know there had been a family emergency and he didn't know when or if he would return.
***************************************************************************************
Three hours later Brian returned to the loft. The phone rings but he lets the machine pick it up. "Brian please pick up. Don't shut me out again. What is going on?" Justin's voice was raspy and desperate. Brian walked to the machine as it clicked off. Twenty-four messages had been left he was sure, by the sound of his voice, that at least twenty of them were from Justin. Brian unplugged the phone, went to the kitchen, grabbed a plastic garbage bag from a drawer and promptly stripped off his clothes and shoved them into the bag. After accomplishing that simple feat without vomiting, he grabbed the fullest bottle from the bar cart and chugged half of it before going into the bathroom to shower the rancid smells of sweat, sex, and mildew from his body.
He'd only been in the shower a few moments when he could hear Michael relentlessly pounding and screaming on the loft door. Brian ignored the noise for as long as he could before charging out of the shower, not bothering to grab a towel before opening the door.
"Where the hell have you been!!! Everyone is worried sick. Justin's called me at least a hundred times in the last eight hours!!" Michael's face was red and he was still huffing from his run up the four flights of stairs.
"I'm a big boy I can take care of myself." Brian turned on his heel and headed back to the bathroom.
"Brian! What the..." Michael rushed to his friend. "Who hurt you?" Michael's eyes widened in horror at the black and blue marks covering Brian's arms.
Brian looked at his arms, he hadn't noticed the bruises. "It's nothing...a ...a trick got a little carried away. I'm fine. You can go home now Michael."
"Oh no mister you're not getting away with this shit again. Something's wrong and you're going to tell me or you're going to call your boyfriend right now and tell him." Michael took a firm stance in front of Brian and crossed his arms to show he wasn't budging without an answer.
Brian laid his hands on his friend's shoulders and squeezed with enough pressure to cause Michael to drop his arms and wince in pain.
"Michael...I'm going to say this only once. Get the fuck out of my loft and stay the fuck out of my life."
"No! And let go of me you're hurting me." Michael tried to twist out of Brian's grasp.
Brian released Michael's shoulders, grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him to the still open loft door and pushed Michael out, slamming and locking the door behind him. Michael stood in shock staring at the wide metal door to Brian's inner sanctum. He knew pounding on it again would do him no good, but he found himself doing it anyway.
"Brian what the hell is going on? Why are you acting so crazy?" Michael shouted.
On the other side of the door Brian stood dazed, unsure of why he had just treated his best friend so horribly. Michael's words throbbed in his head ...crazy...CRAZY...yes he was going totally insane, then suddenly a blinding pain seized his brain, the room started to spin and there was the gray nothingness speeding toward him, once again, engulfing him.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 2
Gone Without a Trace
The loft one day later.
"How can he ‘just be gone' Justin?" Michael didn't want to believe what Justin was saying.
"Well can you think of any place else to look?" Justin was quickly becoming annoyed. Michael could be dense sometimes, but what was it about, we can't find Brian anywhere, ‘was he not understanding'
"Brian isn't at the loft, his agency, he's not with family or friends. No one at any of his regular hang outs has seen him in days. His car, clothes, wallet, including all of his credit cards and identification are all here, but he is not!" Justin yelled the last part into the phone.
"Calm down I'm sure he's fine." Michael willed himself to believe that and hoped he was helping Justin believe it too.
"Michael the last time you saw him you said he was bruised and acting crazy. How can you tell me to calm down or naively believe he's fine?" Justin knew he was losing it and didn't care.
"Because I want to believe that he is. Look, I'll call ma and see if Carl can help."
"Okay....wait Michael, Brian wouldn't?" Justin was afraid to hear the answer, but he had to ask the question.
"No Justin he has too much to live for now and he knows that. We'll find him."
Michael could hear Justin let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Meet me at ma's in an hour."
"Michael, did you tell Brian I was coming home?" It was just a thought, but maybe Brian left because whatever it was, he didn't want Justin to know about it.
"I didn't get a chance to tell him anything before he threw me out."
"Oh...okay see you in an hour." After hanging up from Michael, Justin decided to search the loft one more time for any clue that might help him find Brian. *****************************************************************************************
Deb's house.
"Has he ever gone off like this before?"
"Of course not, at least not without telling someone where he's going."
"Michael I have to ask these kinds of questions for the report." Carl was trying to be the voice of reason in the middle of an impossible situation. He was surrounded by Brian's friends and family who were all upset and shouting. Deb had called him at work crying that one of her boys was lost and demanded he do something immediately. God he loved her but she could be so damn demanding at times. She wouldn't accept his offer to send an officer to get the information, no it had to be him, and he was already up to his neck in a back log of cases.
"Justin did Brian sound depressed the last time you spoke?"
"Not depressed, he just sounded ‘out of it'." It was the best way he could think of to describe their last conversation.
"Who saw him last?"
"I did." Michael wiped his eyes for the hundredth time. Ben put his arm round his partner for support.
"Did he seem ..."
"No he wasn't depressed, he was fucking angry. He yelled at me and told me to get the fuck out of the loft and out of his life. He's never said anything like that to me before... well not to get out of his life anyway."
"He acted like that when he was in radiation therapy for his cancer." Justin jumped in hoping it was some kind of clue, in the same instant his face fell realizing what this might all mean.
"What? Justin what is it." Deb coerced. "
M...maybe the cancer came back." Justin's covered his face with his hands. Deb grabbed hold of him.
"Now don't jump to conclusions sunshine. I really don't believe he would run off without saying anything. He knows how important he is to all of us."
"Who's his lawyer? He may have left some kind of paper trail." Carl was still trying to keep everyone calm. Deb gave him a menacing look.
"Sweetheart, it's procedure; if he contacted his lawyer then at least we know he was planning to leave."
"I know him." Melanie piped up. She took out her cell and dialed.
"Ted.... he would have let you know, at least about the finances and stuff." Justin asked hoping there was nothing.
"No...he didn't change a thing or tell me anything."
"He didn't talk to his lawyer either." Melanie added.
The rumbling in the little house once again got louder and louder. Some accusing Brian of being a coward, others crying because of the chance the cancer had once again drove him away from them.
"Pipe down! Everyone listen...I'm going to pull some strings and go beyond just a missing persons report. I'll have a statewide A.P.B. put out on him and see what happens. Michael what was Brian wearing the last time you saw him?"
"Nothing."
"That's Brian." Melanie shot off.
"He'd just gotten out of the shower." Michael glared at Melanie as he answered.
"Justin did you notice if any of his clothes were missing?"
"Unless he bought new ones, everything I can remember is there."
"Well at least we've got recent pictures. Any scars, tattoos?"
"He has two small scars one on his right wrist and the other on his left knee. They're both only about an inch and a half long. The tattoo...it's on the underside of his dick." Justin couldn't help but smirk remembering the first time he'd seen the infamous tattoo.
"What kind of tattoo? Forget I asked, I can get that detail later." Carl did not want to even plant the seed that Brian might not be found alive and well. "I'll get right on this when I get back to the station. Justin I'll keep in contact with you, you can keep the gang up to date." Justin nodded.
When Carl left Justin turned to Deb, "he's alright."
"Yeah that's my Carl?" "Deb...I mean Brian he's alright. We'd be able to feel it if he's not, right? You're almost like his mom and I... he's my...god Deb I love him so much." Justin threw his arms around Deb and held on tight.
"Shhhh...sunshine he'll be alright. I can feel it and so can you."