The Victorious and the Relentless


Episode 5: “Warfare and Weaponry”

The evocative music of Lamb’s “Gabriel” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEUWFvT16f8 ) underscores the emotional intensity of the following scene:

Nathan Moynihan rushes to his car, enters it, and speeds carelessly down Santa Monica Boulevard, car horns honking at him as he races in the direction of Hollywood Hospital. His mind was a sea of confusion and anxiety. What have I done? He thought, feeling a knot of guilt swell in his stomach. That kiss was absolutely wrong.


He made his way to the hospital, and going through the necessary procedures was allowed entrance to see his partner Brendon. Nathan wondered why there was a security officer positioned outside the door. Brendon was still looking in a state of fixed peace in his bed. He sat in the seat that was quickly becoming his second home and once more interlaced his fingers with those of his lover and looked at him affectionately. He brought his lips to kiss Brendon’s fingers, paranoiac ally thinking that these were the same lips that had foolishly kissed Callum in his moment of emotional grief. Please forgive me, Brendon, his mind kept beseeching of his inert partner. I don’t deserve you.

He thought of how he had made a complete mess of everything. Adding potential adultery on top of poor supervision over a delinquent minor, he felt insecure as a human. He wanted to get up and call Kyle and tell him to do whatever necessary to ensure they find Justin. He just didn’t want to ever leave Brendon’s side again for fear that he may become a victim of temptation. Tears welled up in his eyes once again. I need to speak with you!

Nathan: Do you remember how I would always chide you for getting into the express lane at the supermarket when you clearly knew you had more than 10 items in your cart? (pause) Well, I did that today prior to going to Starbucks.

At the reference of Starbucks, Nathan felt another stab of guilt, foolishly thinking that Brendon would miraculously awaken from his deep sleep and inquire if there were any other reason for him having gone to Starbucks other than for coffee. He raked his hands through his hair, accidentally brushing the soft spot of his temple where he had been hit.

Nathan: You know Peyton put me under hypnosis today. Apparently, I remembered something that while being insignificant could potentially help them in the case. Of all things, they said I spoke about some fragrance that I smelled right before I guess I was attacked.

He rose from his seated position and kissed Brendon on the lips.

Nathan: I forgot to bring our book. I was supposed to go to Barnes and Noble after Starbucks to get another copy, but I got distracted by…

He bit his tongue once more, mindful of the fact that he was about to betray himself. Why does my mind keep going back to Callum? What magic has that kiss thrown on me? He bit his knuckles hard. He had to put Callum and what happened between them out his mind. It was an innocent kiss. That was all. He thought to tell Brendon of other wonderful things.

Nathan: I’m not sure if Allison told you the good news, but she and Chloe are going to have the baby. The doctors are optimistic that she’s out of the woods and will be able to carry the baby to term. Just think that we’ll all be a family by the end of the year, and I’ll be a father. I just hope I don’t make a mess of things like I did with Justin. I really need you to forgive me for that(standing up and inhaling a deep breath) I’m happy for them. I wish you could see how joyful and in love they are. I’ve never seen Allison happier.

He looked up and saw Jeremy Dodd entering the room. Jeremy had been his paternal figure ever since he joined Outrunners over fifteen years ago. He walked over to the man and hugged him.

Jeremy: How are you holding up, Nathan?
Nathan: I’m hanging in there. I can’t say for how much longer.
Jeremy: You just have to be patient and faithful.
Nathan: It’s been three damn weeks, and he hasn’t awakened yet. I’m starting to give up hope. Everyone keeps telling me that all will be well, but I know they’re lying to me. Everyday it’s the same thing. I come in, talk to him, he just lies there, motionless and silent. (pause) I feel so empty inside… so lifeless myself… I want to so desperately feel something.

His mind went back to the kiss that he felt not less than thirty minutes ago. That was something that he definitely felt that had temporarily filled the void to which he had just made reference.

Jeremy: Nathan, are you okay? You look very pensive.
Nathan: Yeah, I-I’m fine. I just need to…
Jeremy: Rest! Allison has told me that you’ve been very busy. You need to take some time off.
Nathan: I have to preside over graduation at the end of this upcoming week. I have to find Justin, and I have to steward the donation from Callum…

Jeremy: Callum? Oh, so you’ve met him. He’s a fine boy.
Nathan: Boy being the operative word. He’s very young but also very mature.
Jeremy: Yeah, you’re practically old enough to be his father.
Nathan: That’s the last thing I need to hear… any reference to my being a parent.
Jeremy: So Callum is making a donation to Hollycove Prep?
Nathan: Yeah, a sizable one at that… this stays between us, Jeremy, but it’s a quarter of a million dollars.

Jeremy (making an exclamatory whistle): And what does he want in return?
Nathan: Nothing. It’s an altruistic contribution. He genuinely wants to do good things, and I’m really impressed with his focus, energy, and passion.

Jeremy: Nathan, I must confess I’m beginning to worry that something is amiss here. The way you’re talking about him sounds like… well, it sounds as if you’re…

Nathan: Say no more, Jeremy. I know what you’re thinking. You’ve always had a sixth sense about these things. Callum and I had a very intimate conversation earlier today, and I really got to understand him. He’s gone through a lot in his short life.

Jeremy: As have you, but from what I’m witnessing right now, I think you should cool things down with this boy. I know that he has taken a deep infatuation with someone… that was evident from his presence in Santa Monica earlier this week. I had assumed it was Tristan, but now I’m starting to think that perhaps he may be harboring some feelings for you, which can only spell trouble.

Nathan: Jeremy, it’s really nothing. We just share a love of fine literature and education for all children.

Jeremy: Nathan, your defenses are down. You’re quite vulnerable, and I’d hate for you to make a terrible mistake that could cost you your relationship with Brendon.

Nathan: I’m going to go downstairs to the cafeteria and get something to eat. Would you like something?

Jeremy: You’re dodging the issue. Anyway, you know I hate hospital food, and I could have sworn you said the same thing the other day—when you were a patient—about the toxic waste that they pass off as food here.

Nathan: I just need to get away for a bit. I really wanted to read to Brendon, but I forgot to stop by the bookstore and purchase another copy of our romance story.

Jeremy: Which one are you reading to him?
Nathan: It’s called Our Autumnal Youth, written by Simon Edgley. I can so easily relate to the main character that loves his partner with all his heart and must go through so many unspeakable struggles to be with his one true love. It’s quite an emotional wallop of a story as it resonates so well with me at this stage in my life. I thought it was a shoo-in for the Booker Prize. Edgley has such an accomplished vision about life and love.

Jeremy (sighing): So you can’t seem to pull yourself away from Callum even now?
Nathan: What are you talking about, Jeremy? I haven’t mentioned Callum for the last three minutes.

Jeremy: I thought you knew that Callum wrote that novel. It’s written under one of his pseudonyms.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Godfrey walks into the sitting room, handing Callum the photocopied pages of Peyton’s little black book, whereupon he’s instructed to place the book back where it was found.

Callum: I’m sure that Peyton will be round shortly. Has Justin had anything to eat?
Godfrey: The last time I checked on him, he was still asleep.
Callum: I’ll go look in on him right now.

He walks up the stairs and heads down the long hallway to the room where Justin was held captive. Using the keys, he enters the room, beholding the sight of the listless teen lying in bed, his right hand manacled to the bedpost. He looked to be in a deep sleep. Callum was about to leave the room when he tripped and nearly fell over Justin’s skateboard. It was at that moment that he noticed the boy’s backpack lying in the corner. It had completely slipped his mind to check it.

He picks it up, rummages through it, takes out the cell phone, instantly noting that Nathan had attempted several times to call him. He places the cell phone in his pocket and continues looking through the contents, finally coming across the paper bag. He extracted its contents, staring in amazement at it.

Callum: What have we here? I wonder if your uncle knows about this.
Godfrey (entering the room): Your Lordship, there’s a phone call from Armitage & Burnham.
Callum: Thank you, Godfrey. I’m sure it’s about my manuscript deadline. I shall have to put several of my plans on hold.

Out of the blue, Justin began stretching, his range of motion cut drastically short from his being tethered to the bed. The lucidity of the moment awoke him to the fact that he was not in a familiar setting.

Justin: What the fuck is going on here?
Callum: You passed out here at my place last night. You don’t remember that? At any rate, I wanted to make certain that you didn’t leave until your uncle Nathan knew you were safe and sound here with me.

Justin: He’s not my damn uncle! Let me go! Unlock these damn handcuffs!
Callum: In due time, my friend.
Justin: I’m not your friend. What the fuck do you want?
Callum: Your uncle really should have washed your mouth out with soap. To answer your question, I don’t really want anything from you except your cooperation.

Justin: Just let me go!
Callum: If I unlock that handcuff, you have to promise to behave yourself. Now, I went through a lot of trouble to make sure that you have a good experience here. Remember I gave you two concert tickets to Coldplay. They’re right there on the stand next to your bed. Godfrey, please unlock him.

Justin: You’re lying. Why did you lock me to the bed? Is this some fucked up queer shit?
Callum: I had to make certain that you wouldn’t leave the house until I spoke with Nathan.
Justin: I don’t want to see him. I’m not going back there!

Callum: Then stay here. You’ll have your own room and room service. You have access to the swimming pool and tennis courts outside. There’s no need for you to leave so soon.

Justin: What’s the catch? I’m not giving my ass up to you.
Callum: Is sex the only thing on your mind? I’m not interested in any sexual relationship with you. I tend to fancy men with a modicum of savoir-faire, something which I’m sure you lack.

Justin: Why are you doing this? (pause) Well, if you’re not going to tell, I’m sure Kyle would love to hear how you kidnapped me and held me hostage.

Callum: I do admire your gall, Justin. However, you should know I always have a contingency plan. I found a lovely stash of puff in your knapsack. I’ll hand that over to Kyle as well when he comes by the house, and naturally they’ll take you back to Nathan’s place. Should your uncle Brendon die—perish the thought—you’d be stuck with Nathan for another year or two until you’re deemed an adult, that is unless you decide to runaway again, in which case I doubt you’d make it out there on your own. It’s a big world out there.

Justin: I can take care of myself.
Callum (laughing): With what? You haven’t any skills for a decent-paying profession. You haven’t even a high school diploma.

Callum reaches into his wallet and withdraws a note and hands it to him.

Justin: What the hell is this? Paper money?
Callum (realizing his error): Hey, don’t knock that £20 note. That’ll be worth like $100 next week, given the current state of your tanking American economy. Nonetheless, perhaps, this will shut you up some. The real deal! (handing him a $100 note)

Justin: Thanks, dude!
Callum: And there’s more from where that came as long as you keep quiet about our arrangement.

Justin: What do you want?
Callum: Don’t worry. I only need you to stay here a few more days. As I said, you’ll have complete access to all my home’s amenities. The only caveat I give is not to go beyond the pool otherwise you’ll be in direct sight of your uncle’s home. He cannot learn of your presence here just yet.

Justin: Can I invite some friends over?
Callum: Did you not just hear what I said! No one—and that includes any of your friends—must know that you’re here.

Justin: Then I’m going to need some serious entertainment.
Callum: Such as?
Justin: For starters, an X Box.
Callum: Please make a list of all the items you need to have for your entertainment and give it to Godfrey. Meanwhile, I’ll have the cook prepare you something to eat. Just buzz us if you need anything.

Callum and Godfrey leave the room. The moment the door closes behind them, Justin leaps out the bed and grabs his knapsack, noting that both the marijuana and his cell phone were missing. He had no way of contacting anyone. I’ll play along with your game a little bit, but I’m getting the hell out of here just as soon as I get more money. Downstairs in the sitting room, Godfrey and Callum are holding a discussion.

Godfrey: I don’t believe the child is to be trusted.
Callum: Neither do I. We’ll humor his demands for the few days, and then take care of him. The ravine outside seems a nice resting place for the aftermath of an accident. I’m hoping it won’t come to that, although Nathan would need someone to comfort him should such a tragedy befall him. Two deaths one after the other… first Brendon and then his nephew!

Godfrey: Is that all Your Lordship requires?
Callum: I’d love a cup of tea while I go through Justin’s phone queue.

He withdraws the cell phone and begins looking through its recent call history. Suddenly, Callum’s eyes latch onto a number with which he had become rather familiar the past few weeks—that of Tristan Bersani’s residence. What’s the connection between you two?

HEATH ALCOTT AND KYLE WALGROVE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

The hypnotic and seductively apropos music and lyrics of the Sneaker Pimps’ “6 Underground” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8teT_9_nqnw) form the background music for the following scene:

Caught in the throes of heated passion, Heath and Tristan’s fiery bodies unite in sweltering intercourse. Heath, on his back, looked up into Tristan’s eyes as another almighty thrust from the Italian stallion sent his entire body reeling into a state of intense rapture, his heartbeat accelerating, his eyes rolling back, and his breathing uncontrollable. With each successive plunge, Heath further spurred Tristan’s burgeoning aggression, continuously smacking his exposed buttocks until they reddened. Tristan bent down to kiss Heath, the perspiration from his brow and chest falling onto Heath’s body as he continued his rabble-rousing, sensuously biting Tristan’s lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth.

Tristan: You like it rough, eh?
Heath: I love you, Tristan…

Did I just say that? In that silent moment that followed, Heath wished he had bitten his own lip. Thankfully, Tristan continued with his energetic pumps, perhaps not once thinking what Heath had truly meant in that instant. He carried on wondering if it had been an accident to speak his mind. Without warning Tristan banged into him too intensely. Heath reacted without thought, driving his nails deeply into the flesh of Tristan’s back, his ensuing cry piercing the air. Tristan separated his body from Heath’s, exhaling a huge amount of breath and tensing his back muscles.

Tristan: That was out of this world, babe!
Heath: Glad you liked it. So you want to finish this in the shower?
Tristan: I honestly should get going. You know tomorrow is the Pediatric AIDS run, and I should get rested up for it. Are you coming to it?

Heath: Yeah, Kyle and I are both registered for it, though I doubt he’ll run. He’s always busy.
Tristan (kissing him): But I’m here to keep you occupied.
Heath (sighing): Oh, Tristan, you’re such a wonderful man.
Tristan: You really think so?
Heath: Yeah, I do. At least you don’t cut me off when I phone you to see what you’re doing for lunch.

Tristan: Well, at least Kyle’s not phoning to see who you’re doing for lunch.

Both laughing at the humor, Heath grabbed Tristan, pulling him forward for a long, sensuous kiss. Parting their lips, they once more stared into each other’s eyes, Heath more so feeling himself hypnotized by Tristan’s and wanting to drown himself in them. Tristan bent down once more for another brief kiss before propelling himself out the bed.

Tristan: Whew! I worked up an appetite. You got anything to eat?
Heath: Sure, check the fridge. There’s plenty of food left over from last night. Kyle didn’t eat anything I prepared for him.

Having warmed the leftovers, Tristan began devouring the food, complimenting Heath on how flavorful and great it tasted. He kissed Heath tenderly on the lips before leaving. It suddenly occurred to Heath that Kyle had not complimented him on his cooking in a number of weeks.

GRIFFITH PARK, SUNDAY MORNING, PEDIATRIC AIDS FOUNDATION RUN/WALK FUNDRAISER

The morning sunshine lit up the gorgeous beauty of Griffith Park as set-up for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation Fundraising Run/Walk was in full swing. Allison and many other Outrunners were helping with volunteer duties. Chloe Dalton was setting up the water station when Tristan ran up to the meeting place.

Allison: Bersani! Over here! You’re late!
Tristan: Sorry, Your Highness. I did bring help. I managed to coerce my roommate Vittoria to help out. Hey, what’s this about Justin? I got home last night and saw Kyle on the news. Justin’s been missing for over two days. I saw his picture on the television.

Allison: Well, he ran away from home. He and Nathan got into an argument, but you know that Justin’s been through a lot. He lost his mother less than a month ago. I’m not excusing his behavior as I understand that he caused a lot of strife for Kyle and Heath.

Tristan (sotto voce): In more ways than one for Heath… (aloud) so put me to work.
Allison: You can help Heath with registration for now, but I’m going to need you at the finish line. So where’s your friend? I can put her on water duty.

Tristan: She’s on her way. She stopped at the bathroom. I’m guessing to apply makeup and lipstick.
Allison: You did tell her this isn’t a meat market.
Tristan: Try telling her that. Oh, here, she comes right now.

Vittoria crosses the street and approaches them, wearing sunglasses. Tristan introduces her to Allison. They shake hands, and then Allison assigns her to work on water duty. She then goes over to the water table to help Chloe pour water into the cups. Chloe felt a strange sense around Vittoria.

Chloe: Do I know you?
Vittoria: I don’t think so. This is my first time here, and I don’t know anyone from this group.
Chloe: Oh, I could have sworn I knew you from somewhere.

Chloe chose not to speak any further as the woman didn’t seem that friendly, and honestly her body piercings did little to endear her presence. But there was something about her that caused Chloe to feel a general sense of unease. As Vittoria was pouring the water into the cup, she turned around and the wind blew up her camisole, revealing the snake tattoo. The grotesque image struck Chloe’s mind like a bolt of lightning.

Chloe immediately recoiled at the image and remembered where she had seen first seen Vittoria. She was with Justin two days ago… the day he went missing. She was the one who had sold him marijuana on the street corner in Hollywood.

Chloe: You!
Vittoria (turning around): Yeah, am I doing something wrong? The demonstration seemed simple. Pour water into the cup. Pour water into the next cup… and so forth.

Chloe: I know who you are! You sold those drugs to Justin!

Vittoria’s pupils dilated at the reference of drugs, especially as they were in a public place, and Chloe’s voice carried in the wind.

Vittoria: What are you talking about?
Chloe: I saw you in Hollywood two days ago, selling drugs to Justin Roberts. It was outside Lou’s Deli.
Vittoria: You must be mistaken, lady.
Chloe: Don’t play innocent with me. I saw you and fully remember you now. You gave him a brown paper bag that had marijuana in it. It was around one in the afternoon two days ago. Now Justin’s gone missing, and no one knows where he is. What have you done with him?

Vittoria (backing away): Look, lady, I think you may have me confused with someone else…
Chloe: Do you know where he is?
Vittoria: Who are you talking about?
Chloe: Justin Roberts. Stop playing dumb! He’s missing, and his picture was on the evening news last night. If you know anything about his whereabouts, I suggest you come clean now. I know Detective Kyle Walgrove, and I’m sure he’d be interested in knowing that you’re Justin’s dealer.

At the reference of Kyle’s name, Vittoria bolted away from Chloe and collided into Allison.

Allison: Hey, watch it! (approaching Chloe and kissing her gently on her lips) What was that about?

Chloe: Who was that woman?
Allison: Her name’s Vittoria. She’s Tristan’s roommate. Why? Is there something wrong?
Chloe: You had better call Kyle right now. That girl knows something about Justin.
Allison: Oh, lord, here comes trouble. I see Callum approaching the registration table. (accosting him) What are you doing here?

Callum: I beg your pardon. I’m one of the sponsors of this event. I made a generous donation of $10,000 this past week, especially when I learned that Outrunners would be participating in it. Besides, it’s for a great cause.

Allison: I technically can’t throw you out then.
Callum: Alas, you can’t… besides it’s taking place in a public park. So is Nathan here?
Allison: Is that the only reason you came?
Callum: That and as I said before…the cause.
Allison: You’re so full of yourself, thinking that money can buy you respect and a place in a man’s heart. But as I recall it, that’s exactly what happened back in Britain, right? You weaseled your way into a rich man’s heart.

Callum: You know, Allison, it amazes me that someone of your academic standing can be marred by such foolishness. You know not to believe everything that you’re told… after all, your parents most likely told you that you would grow up and be swept off your feet by a stunning man... boy, were they ever wrong!

Allison: Callum, go find that rock you crawled out from! Some of us here are actually trying to do some good for the children.

Callum: Well, if you need me, I’ll be over in the sponsors’ booth.

He turns to walk away when his foot hits something, nearly sending him headfirst onto the ground. Looking down, he sees an ornate crystal bottle and picks it up. It was clearly a fragrance container with the word Tentazione inscribed upon it.

Callum (holding it up): Oh, Allison, is this yours?
Allison: No, it’s most likely yours… used to cover your stench.
Callum: Tentazione! It’s Italian for “temptation.” How appropriate!
Chloe: It was probably that wretched woman’s. She certainly looked Italian. It probably fell from her handbag when she bumped into you, Allison. I was trying to tell you before we were interrupted that I saw her two days ago in Hollywood. She was selling drugs to Justin. We need to contact Kyle right now, and let him know that Tristan’s roommate may have something to do with Justin missing.

Having heard this, Callum stealthily bowed out the conversation. Armed with an arsenal of information that was now slowly beginning to fall into place, he started to move away from Allison and Chloe.

Callum: Well, I’ll just take this toilet water over to the park ranger’s station for the lost and found. I’ll see you two ladies later.

He walked across the street to the park ranger’s station but neglected to go inside it. Holding up the fragrance bottle, he remembered what Peyton had told him what Nathan had said under hypnosis. How the fragrance had seemed exotic. Could this be the fragrance? And what would Tristan’s roommate have to do with any of this? Callum picked up his cell phone and dialed Tristan.

Meanwhile, Tristan had been reassigned to do work at the finish line when he got a text message from Vittoria, telling him to meet her immediately. He at once called her.

Tristan: I’m working the finish line now. I can’t leave post otherwise Allison will kill me.
Vittoria: Look, we need to talk. Call me back as soon as you’re free.
Tristan: What’s wrong? You sound very strange. Is everything okay?

The connection broke, but then he got another call—this time from Callum.

Tristan: What is it, Callum? I’m sort of busy right now.
Callum: We need to talk. Now!
Tristan: Look, Allison will have my neck if I abandon post now.
Callum: Just ditch your duties and pass them onto someone else! I need to see you immediately. We can do brunch at Guiseppe’s and the bill is on me. Free mimosas!

Tristan: Sounds like a deal to me!

NATHAN MOYNIHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Nathan had awakened in enough time to make it over to Griffith Park for the Pediatric AIDS fundraiser, but his body felt it as if were being held under a load of iron weights. He subsequently fell back asleep and didn’t wake until half past nine. He hadn’t got much rest last night, having to speak with all the news crews about Justin missing and pleading with the public to notify the police if they saw him or knew any information about his whereabouts.

He made a quick breakfast of cereal and fruit and sat outside on his porch. He missed sitting out there with Brendon, having their morning coffee and listening to the chirping birds. He soon would get ready to go to the hospital to check on him, but he felt he would be greeted with the same news. What was the old saying? No news is good news. Except in Justin’s case! Where could he have gone? Nathan was worried and sick to his stomach. He placed the thousandth call to Kyle’s cell phone, asking him if there were any updates in the case. He dressed, left for the hospital, sat beside Brendon for nearly two hours, and came back to his house at one in the afternoon just as Allison was pulling into his driveway.

TRISTAN AND VITTORIA’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Vittoria had lain low all the afternoon. She kept waiting for Tristan to call her back, but he never did, forcing here to flee to a friend’s place where she continued to worry about the cops questioning Tristan about her. I have to get home and pack! She attempted to ring Tristan again around three, and this time he answered. He said that he got held up by Callum at a long, drawn-out brunch.

Vittoria: Have you spoken with anybody else?
Tristan: Vittoria, what the hell is going on? You’re sounding all cryptic.
Vittoria: Did that Allison chick or her girlfriend ask you any questions?
Tristan: I’m sure I’ll have an earful from her. Callum dragged me away from the finish line, and I had to get another volunteer to cover for me midway through the run. I’ve been with him ever since.

Vittoria: Meet me back at the apartment. You go there first and make sure that the coast is clear… no cops around.

Tristan: Oh, no, Vitt, what have you done this time?

She characteristically broke the connection before he could get anything out of her. He drove back to his apartment only to find the door ajar. He pushed it and went inside.

Tristan: Vittoria? What the hell?

His eyes fell on the mess that was his apartment. The couch and furniture were overturned, papers and trash was scattered all over the floor. His place had been burgled. He rushed to his bedroom. It, too, was in an absolute state of disarray. He heard someone enter the apartment. He went back to the living room to find Vittoria standing in the doorway.

Tristan: You know anything about this?
Vittoria: It was that bitch. She said she was going to tell your friend the police detective about me.
Tristan: What have you done this time?
Vittoria: I only sold him some weed, but she thinks I have something to do with him missing.
Tristan: Who? Are you talking about Justin, Brendon’s nephew?
Vittoria (her eyes enlarged): WHAT? He’s related to Brendon.
Tristan: And you sold him drugs? What the hell were you thinking?
Vittoria: I didn’t know who he was. I just thought he was one of those bratty Hollycove Prep kids.
Tristan: That still doesn’t explain why the place was burgled.
Vittoria: The cops were here. She sent them here.
Tristan: Okay, back up a moment. Who sent the police here?
Vittoria: Allison’s girlfriend. I don’t know how but she recognized me from when I sold Justin the weed two days ago. She threatened to tell Kyle about me, and apparently that’s what she’s done. The cops came here looking for me and the drugs except I wasn’t here.

Tristan: Vittoria, the cops wouldn’t have had time to get a search warrant from a judge, especially on a Sunday morning. Go check and see if your stash is still here. Maybe it was one of your “clients” who couldn’t wait for his next fill.

She goes into her room, tripping over the mess, heading straight for the hideaway of her drugs in the secret compartment under her bed. The drugs were all gone. Fury seethed within her as she stormed out the room.

Vittoria: The cops were here. I know it. All my stash is gone. Oh my god, Tristan, they’re going to put me back in the slammer. You know the judge was lenient this last time, but he gave me that warning. I’m on probation. I can’t go back in there!

Tristan (walking over to her): Calm down, Vittoria. We don’t know everything. Let me just make a call to Kyle and see if he knows anything.

Vittoria (jerking away from him): No! You can’t call him. He’ll come back here and arrest me. You know he’s arrested me several times before for prostitution. Oh, Tristan, I can’t go back.

Tristan: I’ll call Heath and find out if he knows anything. He won’t betray me.
Vittoria: Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t trust any of your damn friends, starting with that fucking dyke!

Tristan: Hey, watch your mouth! Chloe’s a nice woman!
Vittoria (withdrawing a sharp knife from her purse): Yeah, well, now she’s a dead woman!
Tristan: Hey, cool it, Siciliana!
Vittoria: No, she’s going down for doing this to me! And you had better not get in my way, Tristan. You’re already in this too deep or have you forgotten?

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Callum arrived home around three in the afternoon, having had brunch with Tristan. He had to hold Tristan’s attention for several hours while the men ravaged through Tristan’s apartment, Callum having supplied them with the address from Peyton’s black book. All the men found were some stash of drugs, a few chests of jewelry, and a box of books. Callum would go through the majority of it later that evening. One thing was certain: Vittoria was Justin’s dealer.

At any rate, he wanted to see Nathan again. I want a sequel to that amazing kiss from yesterday. He left his home and ran the short distance to Nathan’s home—but as if the fates were once more against him, he met Allison Trudeau as she was exiting the house and heading for her car.

Allison: What are you doing here? What part of stay away from Nathan don’t you understand?
Callum: Shouldn’t you be at Ellen Degeneres’ wedding? Oh, I forgot that your invitation was purposely lost in the mail. At any rate, I’m coming over for business purposes.

Allison: Yeah, right!
Callum: I’m serious. I came over here because Nathan forgot the check I had written out to Hollycove Preparatory School.

Allison: Once more, you’re using money to weasel your way into people’s lives.
Callum: Well, this one is a generous donation (flaunting the check in front of Allison’s eyes) and Nathan will be expecting it.

He makes a move onto the porch to knock on the door when Allison seizes him by the wrist.

Callum: Let go of me!
Allison: Go home, Callum! Nathan doesn’t need your money. He doesn’t need anything from you.

Callum: This is very important to him. It’ll help him to achieve his goal for quality education for the masses and not just the rich and elite.

Allison: It’s just another attempt of yours to get Nathan, and I won’t let it happen. (snatching the check from Callum and tearing it to pieces) That’s what I think of your generosity! Now leave!

Callum: You stupid cow! That was a quarter of a million dollars you just ripped!
Allison: I don’t care. Nathan’s not to be bought.
Callum: And just how much was he paid to give you his sperm?
Allison: What the hell are you talking about?
Callum: You know, Allison, I knew from the start that you were harboring amorous feelings for Nathan, but to persuade him to donate his sperm for your partner to carry his child, that’s rather twisted.

Allison: How do you know about that?
Callum: Never mind how I know. The fact remains that you’ll still never have a connection with Nathan. His connection to his child will be through Chloe so once again you’ve lost on a precious opportunity with Nathan, but I imagine your womb was deemed too aggressive for an innocent babe to rest in for nine agonizing months.

Allison: What’s your point, Callum? Yes, Nathan is the father of our baby.
Callum: Doesn’t that just eat away at you? The fact that Chloe is carrying the baby of the man that you secretly love!

Allison: You’re sick!
Callum: But once Nathan and I are together, we’ll have to figure what to do with this child. I’ll have to pressure Nathan to send it off to boarding school. We should move forward and put a name on the waiting list for Eton just in case it’s a boy.

Allison: You’re completely delusional. Nathan would never get together with you, and you’ll never have anything to do with my child.

Callum: You’re wrong on so many levels, Allison. As I said before, it’s not your child—biologically speaking—and secondly Nathan and I have developed a strong connection as evidenced by the kiss he gave me yesterday.

Allison: What planet are you on? Nathan would never ever do anything like that.
Callum (sighing): I see you’re going to make this difficult. He kissed me in front of dozens of people at the Starbucks in West Hollywood yesterday. I know that has to be hard for you to hear, but he really fancies me. I’m sure he’s been thinking about me all day as have I of him.

Allison: I’m about ten seconds from calling the cops and having them haul you away for trespassing on private property.

Callum: You and your petty threats, Allison. You’re just jealous that he actually kissed me… that he wants me over you… that Chloe is carrying his baby… but if you’re really nice to me, I may make a concession one evening and permit a threesome among us. I’ll naturally turn my head away during the process.

The sharp crackling sound emanated throughout the wilderness as Allison’s hand slapped across Callum’s face, the sting of which was still burning in his cheeks.

Allison: That was for insulting me!
Callum (recovering himself): I’m willing to forgive you for tha—

The force of Allison’s fist colliding into his face knocked him back several feet, his fall broken by the ground’s hard gravelly surface. He felt warm blood fill the inside of his mouth, evidence of his burst lip.

Allison: And that was for lesbians everywhere!

His head still spinning from the impact, Callum stayed on the ground a few seconds, his fingers at his mouth’s corner, pressuring into his lip to stop the blood flow. Regaining his bearings, he rose from the ground, the look of murder in his eyes.

Allison: What? You want some more? (pause) No more pithy comments? No more putdowns to make?
Callum (wiping away blood): I have only one remark to make, Allison. You will live to regret this. (turning to walk away but then suddenly turning back to face her) On second thought, you won’t live to regret it. You’ll die regretting it.

He silently walks back to his home, entering it to the shocked face of Godfrey.

Godfrey: Your Lordship, what happened?
Callum: It’s but a minor cut. Nothing like the one I’m going to give Allison Trudeau. She wishes to play hardball… so be it! I’ve had enough of her!

He walks over to the safe in his private sitting room, puts in the combination, and pulls out a wooden box. He opens it and brandishes a shiny, silver gun. He holds it up to his eyesight.

Callum: It’s time to take care of Allison Trudeau once and for all!

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 4: “It’s In His Kiss”

NATHAN MOYNIHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, SATURDAY MORNING

Kyle Walgrove and Nathan Moynihan are seated around the coffee table on which are set two steaming cups of warm beverages. Nathan is unshaven, his hair unkempt from hours of restlessness, but his rugged masculinity still prominent.

Nathan: How soon can they issue an Amber alert?
Kyle: Look, Nate, Justin has pulled this routine once before with us when you and Brendon first were in the hospital. He didn’t show up at our place when he was supposed to. When came home the next morning, he claimed to have stayed over at his friends’ place.

Nathan: What friends? I don’t know any of his friends. It’s hard to imagine he has any.

Kyle: He’s gone through a lot. Losing a mother and having to relocate to a strange place like Los Angeles from Minnesota. That’s a lot for any teen to take in.

Nathan: So you think he’ll show up today?
Kyle: Okay, just so that I understand this, you two had an argument, which provoked him to leave. What were you two arguing about?


Nathan: Nothing really. Uh, I got a phone call from Chloe, who said that she had seen Justin in Hollywood at lunchtime yesterday, and he was buying marijuana off the street.


Kyle: I’ll phone Chloe and see if she can give us a description of this dealer. Maybe Justin went over to their place for the night. At any rate, it’s only 8:00 in the morning on a Saturday. He’s probably crashed out in someone’s bed.


Nathan: I guess I won’t be making the Saturday run.
Kyle: Allison will handle things there. You just hold down the fort here until both Justin and Brendon come home.


Nathan: Yeah, I’m going to see Brendon. I need to see him and explain myself. He’d be so disappointed in me.


Kyle: Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing the best you can, given the situation. But while I’m already over here, I wanted to ask if you recalled anything about the fire and the attacks.


Nathan: Did you guys ever find any evidence?
Kyle: The fire destroyed whatever evidence there may have been. I need you to run through your story one more time. You said that you and Brendon went on your traditional long run when you had to stop because Brendon got a shin splint or twisted his ankle. And then you heard someone…


Nathan: Look, Kyle, I’ll level with you. Brendon and I weren’t exactly running. We were fooling around in one of the alcoves. I just made up that story to save face. If the truth got out that we were practically copulating with each other, which would be detrimental to both our careers not to mention it would only add to the bad publicity about sex in the park.


Kyle (winking at him): Uh, Nate, I pretty gathered that’s what you really were doing. It’s pretty much Outrunners knowledge that you two are frisky. Don’t worry! We’ll stick with your version of the story, but you said you heard someone. Did you get a chance to see them?


Nathan: No, you see that’s where it gets dark, and I can’t remember. I just wish I could break this cloud of memory loss and maybe I’ll recall something that’ll help the case. My mind jumps right from the moment we were interrupted to the moment that I woke up with flames surrounding me. I kept shouting for Brendon but never saw him.


Kyle: His body was thrown into a ditch. He sustained a lot of head trauma more so than you.
Nathan: It was a hate crime… pure and simple. Someone came upon us, saw us half naked and making out, and just took their frustration out on us.


Kyle: I wouldn’t dismiss it as a hate crime just yet.
Nathan: What are you saying, Kyle?
Kyle: I have a gut feeling that whoever is behind the attacks and the arson weren’t some random gay bashers. I think they were purposely after both you and Brendon. If I were you, I’d start a list of all your common enemies.


HEATH ALCOTT AND KYLE WALGROVE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD


Heath awoke with a raging erection in full anticipation of his morning romp with Kyle. He opened his eyes and stared at the sunlight slipping in through the Venetian blinds. Always sleeping on his side, he reached his right hand over to the other side of the bed in hopes of reaching between Kyle’s legs to grab his cock and get the party started before they headed to the park for the group Saturday morning run.


His hand fell on the softness of the mattress. Moving it up and down, he was not able to feel the rigidity of Kyle’s body, ultimately prompting him to turn over and confirm his fear that had been boiling underneath the surface. Kyle was not there, but he had taken the courtesy of leaving a note pinned to his pillow in which he characteristically expressed his sorrow for having to run out early and subsequently sacrifice yet another (empty) promise.


The heartbreaking tone of Darren Hayes' “Unlovable” plays over the following action:


Heath propels himself out the bed, his trunks hugging his waist and the sunlight beautifully capturing the muscular exquisiteness of his legs. He snatches the note from the pillow and rereads it, noting that Kyle had received a phone call from Nathan Moynihan early this morning. He had been worried sick over Justin not coming home the night before. Kyle had already needed to further interrogate Nathan about the Griffith Park ordeal and thought it would be a good way to kill two birds with one stone. The note affectionately ended with yet another promise to make it up to him.


The note crumpled in his hand, Heath walks into the kitchen, finds a match, strikes it, and angrily sets the paper afire. He notes that the sink is still occupied by the shattered plate fragments and the candles are still strewn across the dining room floor from last night. Did he not even see the mess? Does he not even see me? Resigned to move forward and clean up his clutter, Heath picks up the candles and throws them into the bin along with the broken plate. He knew it was nearing time for the run in the park so he quickly finished his cleaning.


CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, SATURDAY MORNING


Callum is in the sitting room, reading the newspaper when the doorbell rings. Godfrey comes in, announcing that Tristan has arrived.


Callum: Send him in.
Tristan (dismissing with greetings): We need to talk about my commission.
Callum: Oh yes, the realty company informed me of your pseudo license. You have some nerve trying to pull the wool over my eyes, pretending to be a realtor.


Tristan: I am a realtor! I have my license.
Callum: According to some technicality, you’re not really licensed.
Tristan: Lloyd is refusing to pay me commission on the sale of this house. Could you contact him and put in a good word for me? I really need this money.


Callum: I’ve already tried, Tristan. Lloyd’s not backing down and why would he? Who’d want to part with a percentage of the total sale of this estate?


Tristan: You don’t understand. I need that money like yesterday!
Callum: Calm down. I knew you would come here for this exact reason so I took the liberty of writing a check for you (handing him the check).


Tristan: $20,000! That’s a freaking fraction of what I’m owed for the sale of this place.
Callum: Beggars can’t be choosy. Besides, as I understand it, you only get $10,000 on Family Feud per episode. This is like two days’ worth of winnings.


Tristan (turning to leave): I’ll just consider this a down payment on the full amount owed me.
Callum: And about that problem with the photos…
Tristan (turning around suddenly): Yeah, did you get it resolved?
Callum: “Old Vic” is not backing down. She values her privacy and that of her children. Of course, if you still have the negatives of those nude photos, I’d be interested in having a copy for which I’d pay a handsome sum.


Tristan: Yeah, but I’m still getting sued. I’ll be out of a quarter of a million dollars if I lose this case. I thought that you were “in” with them.


Callum: You know, Tristan, you can always go back to your old profession on Santa Monica Boulevard.


Tristan: Pardon me?
Callum: Well, you were a gigolo at some point.
Tristan (testily): What is it that you want? Or rather who is it? Oh, don’t tell me, this is about Nathan.


Callum: For once, you’re wrong. This is about Brendon Roberts. (noting Tristan’s ashen face) Why the reaction, Tristan?


Tristan: Nothing. W-What do you want?
Callum: I understand that someone attempted to kill Brendon last night, and it wasn’t through my orders. I need to know who this person was. Find out for me.


Tristan: How much will I get paid for this information?
Callum: We’ll discuss payment once I have the answers.
Tristan (hearing the cries of a baby): What’s that? Sounds like a baby. Oh, did your family arrive?


Callum: I have many guests in this house. Anyway, get me what I want, and I promise to help you out. Are you going to the run this morning?


Tristan: Yeah, are you?
Callum: No, I’m not. I have an appointment with Nathan. He keeps rescheduling our appointment. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t want my money.


Tristan (sotto voce): Or your sex.


The doorbell rings and soon Godfrey enters, announcing the arrival of Dr. Peyton Ashland , who stumbles into the room looking haggard.


Tristan: Dude, you look like shit! You aren’t running like that?
Peyton: Good morning to you, too, Tristan. I’m getting over a hangover. You look ready to run.
Tristan (turning to leave): Yeah, I am. Anyway, I’ve got to jet.
Callum: Remember what I told you, Tristan. I’ll be in touch with you.


Peyton, absolutely befuddled, falls on the settee, but then sees the minibar and beelines straight for it, pouring himself a glass of whisky.


Callum: Hmmm, long night, eh?
Peyton: I think we know why (chugging down the glass of whisky)
Callum: I can have the cook prepare you some bangers and mash.
Peyton: Oh, God, no, are you trying to kill me? You know I hate British food. I’m fine with Jack Daniels.


Callum: As you wish. So what brings you here so early?
Peyton: It’s about last night. I really can’t lose my medical license over what happened between us nearly a year ago. I’m up for partner in a psychiatric firm in Beverly Hills.


Callum: License seems to be the word of the day. Tristan lost his realtor license over a technicality, and now you’re about to lose your medical license.


Peyton: Please, Callum, I know we can work something out. (moving closer to him)
Callum (pushing him away): I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but that ship has sailed. Peyton, I’m no longer sexually interested in you.


Peyton: Whatever! You’re into Nathan Moynihan, but Callum, I’m trying to tell you that he’s not going to give up his love for Brendon just for a quick fuck with you.


Callum: I think there’s a misunderstanding here. I’m not some slut out for some quick shag. I’m looking for real love. You know what I mean. Like the kind we talked about a year ago during therapy.


Peyton (bluntly): What do you want in exchange for giving me that DVD?
Callum: Now we come to the real reason you’re here. I need you to take care of Allison Trudeau for me.


Peyton: What do you mean take care of her?
Callum: I’m not intimating murder if that’s what you’re implying. All I desire is for you to keep her away from me and Nathan. Our time together will be so precious, and he doesn’t need to hear all her venom.


Peyton: I can’t control Allison. Yes, I used hypnotism as part of my practice at times, but I can’t make Allison do anything she doesn’t want to do.


Suddenly, Peyton’s cell phone rings. He fishes in his pocket to retrieve it.


Peyton: Hello. Good morning, Kyle. How are you? (pause)
Callum’s eyes perk up at the name of the police detective, prompting him to move in closer to Peyton to hear the conversation.


Peyton: Um, well, I guess I can. Ironically, I was just talking about it. (pause) Oh, sure, I can be on my way right now as I’m in the vicinity. Give me about twenty minutes. That sound okay? All right, see you then!


Callum: What was that about?
Peyton: Kyle wants me to hypnotize Nathan to see if he can remember anything from the night he and Brendon were attacked.


Callum: Good. It’s great that you’re helping the investigation as part of your civic duty. But might I suggest you hop into the shower. Tristano was right. You do look like shit. I’ll have Godfrey get you some clean clothes.


Peyton: Thanks… I guess. Where’s the shower?
Callum: Upstairs in the master bedroom. (emphasizing the word “master” for Peyton’s sexual interest)


Peyton marches upstairs, undresses, and gets into the shower, turning the hot water onto his body. Lathering himself with the soap, he feels as if it’s cleaning both his soul and thoughts. I can handle Callum. I’m a trained psychiatrist. I know how his mind works, and I can use it to my advantage. Suddenly, Callum enters the shower, shirtless and with a towel wrapped around his middle.


Peyton: C-Callum, what are you doing in here?
Callum: I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier.
Callum reaches his out his hand, grasping Peyton’s nipples and gently squeezes them. They bring their mouths together before Peyton hints for him to go down, and Callum slowly lowers himself onto his knees when suddenly a loud bang against the shower door dissipates the fantasy.


Callum: Hurry up in there! You told Kyle twenty minutes. You’ve been in longer than that, and I can only imagine you’re doing. You had better not be defiling my shower!

GRIFFITH PARK, SATURDAY MORNING, FLAG POLE


Allison: Good morning, Outrunners. Welcome to the Saturday morning training run. I’ve got a few announcements to make. As many of you know, the Hollywood Marathon is coming up in three months. Next Sunday is our annual Pride Run. Bralen Jones will be representing the US at the Olympics in August. Nathan Moynihan is now acting president of Outrunners. He doesn’t appear to be here this morning. I’m sure he’s running late. Anyway, I would like for everyone to send their prayers to Nathan. Brendon has yet to come out the coma, but everyone at the hospital is remaining optimistic. Now, we’ll have a brief announcement from our fellow firefighter Heath Alcott.


Heath: Everyone knows to stay away from the areas of the park that have been burned to the ground.


Allison: Thanks, Kyle, for reminding us of that. Are there any other announcements? (pause) Okay, well, the last thing I want to announce is that Chloe and I will be parents later this winter.


Cheers erupt from the assembled crowd. Allison pulls Chloe close to her, offering her a sweet embrace before kissing her, the bright sun beaming down on their open display of love.


Bralen: So, Allison, does this mean you’ll be building the crib or buying it?
Allison: Very funny, Bralen. I’m going to answer “no comment,” but I’m sure that Henrietta, our Outrunners event planner, will be organizing a baby shower soon, and you’re more than welcome to purchase a crib as a gift. Okay, let’s do names, and then we’ll run and come back for breakfast at Fancy’s in Glendale.


The circle of excited runners each announces their names, and everyone breaks for their individual runs. Allison has remained put and approaches Heath.


Allison: So where’s Kyle today?
Heath: I think he’s with Nathan. Apparently, Justin didn’t come home last night.
Allison: Yeah, I know. I was with Nathan last night and can only imagine how this is adding to the stress on his shoulders. You know last night someone tried to kill Brendon Roberts. The hospital has his room under 24 hour surveillance now and Callum Sutcliffe is completely banned from going in there.


Heath: Callum? What does he have to do with this? You think he was involved in it.
Allison: I don’t think he was involved. I know it. And the fact that he’s not here this morning only makes me wonder if he’s with Nathan.


Heath: Have you told Kyle about last night?
Allison: Yeah, he read the police report. However, we both think it best not to tell Nathan about it, especially now that Justin is missing. I keep telling you guys that Justin should stay a few days with me. I’ll whip him into shape.


Heath (laughing): Yeah, lesbian disciplinary training 101.
Allison: So, how are other things going?
Heath: Not so well. I don’t have any time with Kyle. He’s always so busy. I had planned something special for him last night, but he forgot to come early like he promised. And then we planned for an early morning romp, but then he got called away by Nathan.


Allison then attempts to ring Nathan and immediately gets sent to his voicemail. She leaves a message for him to call her, and as she snaps the phone shut, Tristan runs up to the flagpole.


Allison: You know I have a bone to pick with you, Bersani.
Tristan: Over what?
Allison: You helped Callum get the house next to Nathan’s! Some realtor you are!
Tristan: Hey, it was that tidbit of info that finally convinced him.
Allison: I oughta sock you one for that! Are you running over the hill today?
Tristan: Yeah, I am. What about you, Heath?
Heath: I can do over the hill.
Allison: Wow, Tristan, you really must be persuasive. What kind of voodoo are you using? Heath once told me he’d never do over the hill again. All right, boys, see you at Fancy’s.


Heath and Tristan: Ciao!


They all depart on their respective runs.


NATHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES


Dr. Peyton Ashland has placed Nathan under hypnosis with Detective Kyle Walgrove present. Thus far, all that Nathan has said under this trance has been a reiteration of his conscious testimony. When they reached the part of his story where he typically goes blank, Peyton asked a different question to trigger an unusual response.


Peyton: Nathan, when you go to see who is outside the cave, how does it feel outside? Is it hot or cold?


Nathan: A little breezy… the hairs on my legs particularly feel the wind.
Peyton: Now, Nathan, I need you to concentrate really hard. Do you hear any other voices? Are they those of a male or a female?


Nathan: No.
Peyton: Do you smell anything? Smoke perhaps?
While at first he was getting doubtful if Peyton might be able to assist, Kyle soon realized that Peyton’s questioning was helping to establish a timeline—to see whether the fire had been started before the attacks or afterwards. The questions about feeling heat and smell had not been asked by the trained authorities. Kyle noticed that Nathan’s face looked at rest while in this trance, and his face soon contorted into one of serious thought. Nathan inhaled a deep breath of air as he were back at the site.


Nathan: Fragrance.
Peyton: Pardon? What kind of fragrance?
Nathan: Exotic fragrance… hard to describe… could be for either man or woman.


Peyton and Kyle both exchange looks mere seconds before Nathan comes out of the entranced state, seemingly of his own will.


Nathan: Why do you guys look that way? What did I say?


TRISTAN BERSANI’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD


Tristan enters his apartment, his chest a yummy display of ripped muscles. He had forgotten to bring a clean shirt with him to the Griffith Park run, and much to Heath’s disappointment, had opted not to go with them to Fancy’s for breakfast, partially because he didn’t have much cash on him, and secondly because he wanted to get to the bank before their early Saturday closing so that he could cash the check Callum gave him. Feeling ravenous, he heads straight for the kitchen, nearly breaking the handle off the refrigerator.


Tristan: Damn it!
Vittoria (entering): What now?
Tristan: There’s not a damn thing in this place to eat!
Vittoria: Yeah, that usually happens when there’s not money for groceries. Need I remind you of our financial situation?


Tristan (raising his hand): Look, I don’t want to have that talk again. Besides, I just got some money.


He produces the check and ostentatiously shoves it in Vittoria’s face, seeing her eyes glow at the majestic number written on it.


Vittoria: That should take care of this month’s rent, and you can pay me back for all the food you ate that was mine. I guess my share comes to about a quarter of that check.


Tristan: That’s all right. This is just the first installment. I’ll get more money out of Callum. I can pay you back for everything you’ve done for me.


Vittoria: By the way, did you take my Tentazione? (noticing the guilty look on his face)
Tristan: I may have used some of it yesterday when I was with this trick. You know it’s supposed to have an aphrodisiacal effect, and it worked like magic. He was horny as hell and must have come like three times in a row.


Vittoria: You ass! You know that shit costs me a few hundred bucks. It has to be imported from Italia, and it’s not available here in America.


She begins spouting profanity in Italian at him. He raises his hands in defiance, picks up a pillow, and throws it at her.


Tristan: All right, all right! I’ll buy you another bottle. Anyway, I think the bottle is in my backpack. I’m gonna run to the deli before heading to the bank to cash this puppy.


Vittoria: Bring back something for lunch!
Tristan: No can do! I’ll be in Santa Monica then.
Vittoria: What have you got to do there?
Tristan: Someone!
Vittoria: You know you’re a manwhore.
Tristan: I know. It must be this rock hard body. I look pretty damn good for my late thirties. I keep in shape, which is why you should come to one of the Outrunners runs with me.


Vittoria: Dickhead, I’m not gay!
Tristan: Yeah, but you carry a PFLAG card. Besides, we have the occasional wandering straight guy that shows up at our runs. See you when I get back!


STARBUCKS, OUTDOOR SEATING, WEST HOLLYWOOD


Nathan Moynihan arrived early at the Starbucks in West Hollywood. He needed to clear his head. Apparently, the hypnosis—while not being a complete success—did manage to open the investigation to the possibility of a perpetrator of the opposite sex. It wasn’t much to go on, though. They had mentioned something about a fragrance. After his meeting with Callum, Nathan decided he would go visit Brendon. He just has to wake up soon otherwise I’ll go mad. Nathan took a seat outside, and Callum approached him from the back, dressed in navy blue shorts and a white polo shirt, taking a seat in front of Nathan.


Callum: Good morning, Nathan.
Nathan: Morning, Callum. Would you like some coffee or tea? I’ll get it for you.
Callum: Yes, I’ll take some tea. Earl Grey if they have it.
Nathan: I’ll be right back.


As Nathan gets up to go purchase the coffee, Callum lays sight on his firm, compact butt and the lovely sight of his well-defined calves. His heart pumping, he takes a deep breath and observes his surroundings, seeing a shopping centre, restaurants, and a travel agency. He makes a mental note to come back to this place. Nathan comes back out with his tea, laying it in front of him.


Nathan: There you go. Steaming hot so be careful.
Callum: That’s just the way I like it.
Nathan: So, you got my emails about the donor policies and reciprocities?
Callum: I expect nothing in return, Nathan. I just admire you for your vision of imparting education to all. You know what, let’s just simplify the matter. I’ll make it an anonymous donation. There’ll be no need for bureaucracy.


Nathan: That’s awfully kind of you.
Callum (retrieving checkbook): Now, I know we never discussed the amount of the donation, but I think you’ll be pleased with this.


He tears the check from the book and hands it over to Nathan, feeling the warm flesh of Nathan’s hands and the hair on his knuckles briefly as the exchange took place. A quick jolt of ecstasy rushed through Callum’s body with this simple touch.


Nathan: Are you okay?
Callum: I’m fine. I was just taking in the view. I must confess that I had heard so many unsavory things about this part of town, but I don’t see any of the maneaters anywhere.


Nathan: Oh, you have to go further down Santa Monica Boulevard for that. In fact, if you’re planning on doing the Pride Run next week, you’ll get a good view of West Hollywood. All the WEHO clones will be out, and you’ll definitely see tons of maneaters.


Callum: Will you be running it?
Nathan: Well, my doctors say I should take it easy. I’ve only been out the hospital a few days. On their advice, I’ve sadly been reduced to having to walk the 5K.


Callum: There’s nothing wrong with walking. It helps to clear your head of any pressing thoughts.


Nathan: True, but I love running. There’s something about the thrill, the rush that goes through your body as you’re in constant motion. I guess you could say I’m a running addict. I enter and run marathons each month of the year. Of course, I missed out on May’s marathon due to the incident in the park.


Callum: Oh, yes… that’s right. So does your partner share in your love of running? Is he an addict?


Nathan (laughing): I love the way you say “partner” and “addict.” Your accent is very beautiful.


Callum: You like it?
Nathan: Yes, although I’m awful at imitating them. Brendon could do a great British accent.
Callum: So you’re Irish, right? I mean your surname is certainly Irish.
Nathan: Yeah, I guess. My father is originally from Ireland, but he immigrated to New York when he was a teenager.


Callum: Why do you say, “you guess?”
Nathan: Well, I was adopted. I don’t know my birth parents and never really wanted to find out who they were. I’m happy with the life and family I’ve been given. I only wish I could provide the same for all the parentless youth out there.


Callum: All this talk and you haven’t even looked at the check I gave you.
Nathan: Oh, I’m sorry. (looking at the figure) Oh my God! This is really too much.
Callum: Don’t mention it.
Nathan: No, seriously, this is really too much. You actually wrote 100,000 pounds instead of dollars. You’d be handing over twice that numerical amount to me.


He instantly snatches back the check, prompting Nathan to laugh hysterically.


Callum: Yeah, I must become accustomed to the exchange rate as it’s definitely in my favor. I’ll rewrite one for a quarter of a million dollars as a reward for catching my error.


Nathan: Not to pry into your business, but you’re quite young to have such financial privilege.
Callum: I’m a very wealthy widower, and besides that, I’m a bestselling international author.
Nathan: Oh really? Well, I’ll have to get to Barnes & Nobles after our meeting and place two separate orders for all your books—one for my personal library at home and another for the school library.


Callum (trying to suppress blushing): Oh, Mr. Moynihan, you’re absolutely too much!
Nathan: Well, honestly, I have to go to Barnes & Nobles anyway. I forgot to bring the book that I’m reading to Brendon, and I know he’s anxiously awaiting the next chapter. It’s a bittersweet romance story about this couple who were torn apart due to circumstances beyond their control.


Callum: Sounds interesting. What’s the title?
Nathan: It’s called “Our Autumnal Youth” (seeing the expression on Callum’s face) Oh, I see you recognize the title. Probably because it was a bestseller in your home country.


Callum (sotto voce): And because I wrote it. (aloud) So I take it that you like romances?
Nathan: Oh yes, my favorite book is Wuthering Heights. Really, how could you not love that famous quote that Catherine makes: “Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind--not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”


Callum: I’m impressed that you know it by heart. It’s really a rather moving statement.
Nathan: It’s exactly how I feel about Brendon.
Callum (his blood boiling at the reference to Brendon): Oh really?
Nathan: Yes, we are one and the same. Even though he can’t speak or move, I feel the same way. I’m stuck in this paralytic state… I can move yet I feel confined. I can speak my thoughts but the true essence of them can never be conveyed. I really need to be with him.


Suddenly, Nathan emotionally breaks down, his eyes no longer able to hold back the tears. Callum reaches his hand across the table and gently lays it upon Nathan’s, the tactile sensation still present. In the background, a clicking sound of a camera can be heard followed by the crystallization of an image of two men, one reaching out to comfort the other.


Callum: I know exactly what you’re going through, Nathan. I miss my Gavin with all my heart. He was everything to me. My heart was entirely his and vice versa. If mine were to suddenly stop beating, his would beat on for the both of us—which is why I know that as long as there is breath in my lungs and blood in my heart, I shall always love him, and I know he’s out there looking for me.


Nathan: But he died, didn’t he? You said you’re a widower.
Callum: No, no… I can’t believe it. He is my life, and as long as I’m alive, he must be as well. At least you have a physical body to touch. They never found Gavin’s body in the Mediterranean so all I have are memories which with time shall flee from my possession.


Callum’s breaths become shallow as his eyes well with tears too potent to hold back. He raises his hands to his face to cover this raw emotional display. His nose begins to run, and he reaches for a napkin across the table, inadvertently knocking over Nathan’s coffee into his lap.


Callum: Oh, I’m such a clutz!
Nathan: Don’t worry about it. It’s wasn’t hot. I-I’m fine. Here’s a napkin for you.


Nathan reaches the napkin across the table, but for some unknown impulse, he uses the napkin to physically wipe away the tears and Callum’s runny nose as if he were a child—in spite of the natural fact that he was old enough to be Callum’s father. Nathan has to work a little harder due to Callum’s head being bowed down with his chin nearly resting on his chest.


Callum: Mr. Moynihan, you needn’t do that.
Nathan (softly spoken): It’s okay… and remember to call me Nate or Nathan.
Callum: I feel so embarrassed.


Callum looks up, raising his head and chin, instantly locking eyes with Nathan. A brief moment of mild, silent tension ensues before both heads move in unity toward each other. Their mouths touched, lips brushing against each other, and the tongues of each intruding that of the other. In that split second, another clicking sound could be heard in the distance. Nathan suddenly pushes away, raising his hand to his mouth, his fingers touching the sinful flesh of his lips.


Nathan (stammering): C-Callum, I am SO sorry for that. I-I didn’t mean to… I-I don’t know w-what came over me… please pardon me… I-I have to g-go now.


Nathan grabs his briefcase and possessions and rushes off, leaving Callum bewildered and confused. Callum raises his hands to his mouth, his fingers touching his lips as if hoping to keep Nathan’s presence on them and prevent its escape. He looks across the table and sees that in his haste to leave the scene, Nathan forgot the check, wedged underneath a napkin dispenser. Callum grasps it, staring at it.


Callum (talking to the check): I can see that you’ve given me the means for a follow-up to this love affair.


BRALEN JONES’ HOME, SANTA MONICA


Bralen performed his 500th crunch on his living room floor when the doorbell rang. He rose, grabbing a towel to wipe down the sweat that was cascading over his defined body. He opened the door to see the beaming face of Tristan Bersani. At his entrance into the apartment, the instrumental beats to Nelly Furtado’s “Promiscuous” begins playing in the background to the scene.


Tristan: Damn, Bralen! Being a pilates instructor sure does pay off for your body.
Bralen: Thanks, I was actually just about to start a personal session of pilates. Would you like to join me?


Tristan: I’ll pass. Remember I ran earlier this morning.
Bralen: Oh yeah, that’s right. I keep forgetting that not all of us can be athletic dynamos like me.


Tristan: You should be careful with that big head of yours.
Bralen: It’s not big yet… that is until you work on it.
Tristan: So you know why I came?
Bralen: I saw the way you were staring at me this morning.
Tristan: Yeah, I wanted to come by and congratulate you on making the final cut for the Olympics. I know you worked your ass off for it. (seductively approaching him) And I know that the coming weeks will be even more challenging for you.


Bralen: How so?
Tristan: I know you’ll have to abstain from any distractions. (reaching his hands into Bralen’s shorts and locking eyes with him) I remember my college football coach telling the team to abstain from sex in the days before a game.


Bralen: Well, I have several weeks left, not days… so I’m still in the clear (winking at him).


In one quick gesture, Tristan had Bralen’s shorts down to the floor, surrounding his ankles. They gently kissed each other before Tristan knelt down, Bralen’s erection in direct line with his eyesight. The warmth of Tristan’s mouth sent a euphoric rush through Bralen, whose fingertips lightly caressed the soft flesh of Tristan’s chin, teasing him to continue with his oral ministrations. Growing tired of standing, Bralen gestured for Tristan to move the action to the couch, where they both took a seat.


Tristan removed his shirt, and then resumed the task at hand, Bralen having placed a pillow behind his head so to be in further comfort. Once more on his knees, Tristan’s hands braced themselves on Bralen’s exceptionally defined quadriceps as his mouth and lips worked in zealous harmony, his sprightly tongue feverishly massaging Bralen’s hardness into ultimate pleasure.


Bralen’s breaths became deeper, and Tristan knew the time was nearing as he saw Bralen’s mouth begin to curl into an “O” followed by the high-pitched sounds signaling orgasmic release. The climax achieved, he swiftly turned his head and spat out the fluid.


Bralen (shouting): Not on my pilates mat!
Tristan: Well, I guess you won’t be using that one in class. (rising from the floor) Listen, dude, congratulations again. Good luck in Beijing.


Tristan’s cell phone rings. He can see from the caller identification feature that it’s Heath Alcott. He chooses not to answer the phone, sending it straight to voicemail. He then sends a quick text-message: WILL B THR SOON!


Bralen: What about you? Don’t you want to get off as well? (reaching his hand toward Tristan’s groin)


Tristan: I’ll take a rain check on that. I have to be somewhere now.


Tristan rushes into the bathroom. Bralen hears the sound of rushing water as he assesses the damage done to his pilates mat. Tristan comes out and kisses him.


Tristan: Thanks for a good time. Talk soon! Ciao!
Bralen: What do I do with this mat? I can’t use it anymore.
Tristan: Put it on Ebay or Craig’s List. (leaving the house)
Bralen: Good idea.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES


Callum arrives home, still shaken over what happened at his meeting with Nathan. Upon entering the house, a blond woman is in the sitting room, cradling an infant in her arms, cooing him to sleep.


Callum: Inga, what are you doing in this room? You know you and the child can’t be seen yet.


He further admonishes her in Swedish, the tones of her native language further hammering home the urgency which he initially attempted to point out. She quietly leaves the room with the baby just as Godfrey enters it.


Callum: Godfrey, how is our other guest? Has he awakened?
Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship, he’s come out his slumber and has been on a nonstop binge of profanity. I had to administer something to him to further weaken his resolve otherwise his youthful strength may have been too much for me had he possibly taken to challenging me.


Callum: I shall impart to you some wisdom which was passed onto me from my brief moments with Dr. Peyton Ashland. In matters of great physical strife, a good pair of handcuffs can be a godsend. You’ll find them in the chest in the cellar.


Godfrey: Speaking of Dr. Ashland, he left one of his possessions here when he was called away earlier this morning. However, that was several hours ago, and he has yet to come inquiring about it. Perhaps you can give it to him the next you meet or would you rather me put it in the post to his workplace address?


Callum: What is it?
Godfrey: It appears to be a small black book. I didn’t look inside, for that would have been most imprudent of me.


As Godfrey makes his comment about his personal propriety, Callum has opened the small black book. It had the “Outrunners” insignia embossed on the front cover, and Callum’s eyes lit up at the wealth of information inside: addresses, phone numbers, and various contact information for members of the organization.


Callum: Alas, Godfrey, I’m afraid that your eyes shall definitely see the contents of this little book because I want you to make photocopies of all the pages inside it.


Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship. (leaving with the little address book)
Callum: All the pieces are falling into place for me to get what I want… (walking over the window and staring across the ravine at Nathan’s house) and who I want!


TO BE CONTINUED…

The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 3: “Follow the Misleader”

The haunting sound of Mika’s “Any Other World” permeates this scene of muted frustration:

Peyton Ashland arrives at his apartment, rushing to the minibar to pour himself a glass of bourbon, which he downs in one gulp. He falls into his chair, running his hands frantically through his hair, drowned in a tempestuous sea of thought. What is Callum’s endgame? And where do I fit into it? Why, oh why, did I sleep with that deranged fool? Will he really go to the medical board with that DVD? Peyton rose from his seat and gets another glass of bourbon. I’m going to need something stronger! How am I going to get myself out of this mess?

He drinks that in one gulp before throwing the glass against the wall, shattering it into several minuscule shards that litter the floor. He knew his life would be eternally ruined if that DVD were to ever be seen. He had to get it, and for that to happen, he would have to partner with the devil himself. Peyton hadn’t known that Callum would turn out to be so vindictive and scheming, resorting to blackmail in order to render his silence and compliance in his diabolical machinations.

His mind beset with these pressing thoughts, Peyton tripped over his shoes on his way back to the bar and made yet another drink, hoping to drown himself in his misery and perhaps blot Callum Sutcliffe from his mind forever. He was about to throw the container of bourbon against the wall and then immediately thought better of it, for fear that when he inevitably fell asleep that he would have nightmares of his career devastation. It seemed that only alcohol right now was his one true companion.

He lied down on his couch, his head resting comfortably against the cushions before the influence of slumber stole over him, his hand losing its grip on the glass, and its contents spilled onto the floor. Fortunately, he had no nightmares of Callum but had a premonitory dream of pain ahead for Nathan.

BRENDON ROBERTS’ ROOM, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

The shadowy figure lowers the pillow down onto the face of Brendon Roberts. Just that moment, Allison Trudeau enters the room to check on him. She shrieks upon seeing the dark figure at his morbid task, and she feels a slight sense of déjà vu as yet another mysterious person crouches over another one of the special men in her life, seemingly indulged in a questionable act. The figure sees her, drops the pillow, and rushes for the exit.

Allison (placing herself firmly in front of exit): You’re not going anywhere!

The figure charged for Allison, throwing all its weight into her, and knocking her aside. Allison’s head collided harshly against the wall before she fell into a heap, overturning a chair as her body hit the floor. The intruder rushes out the room and down the hall.

Allison: Somebody stop him!

She manages to regain her balance and rushes over to check on Brendon. He’s still breathing and alive. She picks up the phone and alerts hospital security of the incident.

NATHAN MOYNIHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Nathan Moynihan is finishing his phone conversation with Chloe Dalton.

Nathan: Thank you, Chloe, for informing me of this. (pause) No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing in telling me. I think that’s him coming inside the house right now. Talk with you later.

He terminates the call just as the key in the lock turns, and Justin Roberts enters the house. He has his knapsack on his shoulder and looks as if he’s come back from some athletic practice. He pays no attention to Nathan, but rather moves toward the staircase to head to his room.

Nathan: Just where do you think you’re going?
Justin: To my room. Like where else would I go?
Nathan: Not so fast. We need to talk.
Justin: Can’t we do that in the morning? I’m tired.
Nathan: And so am I of all the trouble you’re causing. I just got a phone call telling me that you were seen earlier today at lunchtime in Hollywood, buying drugs on a street corner.

Justin: Whoever told you that is lying.
Nathan: Then where were you at lunchtime? You weren’t on campus. That’s for sure. You missed fourth through seventh periods today. I checked so don’t lie to me about that. You know, Justin, you’re ruining your chances for a good life outside of school. Taking drugs and missing classes. There’s no way you’ll get into a selective university that way. Your behavior is self-destructive.

Justin: Why the fuck are you on my case?
Nathan: Hey, watch your language with me, young man!
Justin: You’re not my father! You’re just some faggot who’s fucking my uncle.
Nathan: Yeah, you’re right. I’m not your father. But while you’re in my house, you’ll show me some respect.

Justin: So it’s your house now? I thought you and Brendon both owned this house, but I guess with him about to kick the bucket, you can…

Nathan: Shut up! Just shut the hell up! (realizing his error) Oh, Justin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just that I really love your uncle, and I can’t take any thoughts of him possibly not making it.

Justin: Just admit it, Nate. You don’t want me here. Everything was fine before I came along. I’m just the thorn in your side. You know what? I’ll make it easy for you. I’m outta here!

Justin opens the door, rushes out it, slamming it behind him. Nathan, bewildered, rushes after him.

Nathan (seeing the figure retreating into the darkness): Justin, come back!

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Callum Sutcliffe sits at the dinner table, consuming his dinner when the doorbell rings.

Callum: Nevermind, Godfrey, I’ll get the door. It’s probably Peyton, crawling back with his tail between his legs—which for him wouldn’t be a bad sexual position to try out.

Hearing the pounding on the door, Callum thinks to himself: Let the games begin. Opening the door, he is surprised to see the enraged face of Allison Trudeau, who barges right inside his house.

Callum: How dare you intrude into my home? Have you no manners? Of course not, what was I thinking? Well, while you’re here, you might as well go ahead and fix that awful plumbing in the downstairs bathroom.

Allison (ignoring him): You’re just fortunate I didn’t bring the cops with me. I can’t say that they won’t be here first thing in the morning. I know it was you, you sick bastard! You tried to kill him. If I hadn’t been there in time, you would have…how I cringe at the thought.

Callum: What the hell are you babbling on about? I haven’t done anything. I’ve been here having a quiet evening at home.

Allison: You were just at the hospital less than an hour ago, trying to kill Brendon Roberts. I saw you trying to smother him with that pillow.

Callum: You’re deranged, Allison. All that sawdust from your hobbies must be going to your head. I was here all evening. My butler Godfrey can attest to that.

Allison: Oh yeah, he’s on your payroll! A lot of credibility he’ll have!
Callum: And well, there’s also Peyton, who can provide my alibi. He left not too long ago, probably within the hour so you see I could not have done what you’re accusing me of doing.

Allison: I know you’re after Nathan, and you’ll do anything to get him, including murder.

Callum: That’s a harsh accusation, Allison. I would never harm another human being. Now a subhuman like you might be an exception.

Allison: Cut the insults, Callum. It’s very unbecoming of you, but I know what you’re capable of and so does that family in England! They mistrust you as much as I do and feel you’re capable of foul play.

Callum: And which family would that be?
Allison: You know the noble family that you married into. The people standing between you and that vast fortune you keep talking about as if it’s a done deal.

Callum: I see you’ve been talking with some unreliable source, but I would expect nothing less from a louse like you. Nevertheless, I think it’s time for you to go. I should be getting back to my supper. However, I can have the cook prepare you a salad with contaminated tomatoes and spinach. It always amazes me how you Americans have an annual contaminated food that stirs national hysteria. I’m sure next year it’ll be carrots.

Allison: I wouldn’t eat anything from you. I’m going to speak with Peyton, and confirm if he was in fact here when you said he was. I swear to God if you had anything to do with what happened tonight at the hospital, you’re going down.

Callum: That all you have to say?
Allison: Yeah, that’s all.
Callum: Then get the hell out of my house!
Allison (opening the door): With pleasure.
Godfrey (entering the room, having eavesdropped): Your Lordship, matters are becoming rather complicated. If Ms. Trudeau knows about Lord Armitage’s family, then she’s only a stone’s throw from learning the real reason you’re here in Los Angeles.

Callum: Godfrey, I can assure you that Allison knows nothing. She’s apparently been speaking with Peyton, who couldn’t for his own life remember Gavin’s family name. She only has minimal knowledge, and I don’t expect her to make a trip to Britain in order to flesh out the details. Besides, by the time she finds out the truth—and that’s if she does—it’ll be too late!

Godfrey: Would Your Lordship like for me to remove the dinnerware from the table?
Callum: Yes, please, Godfrey. I’m going out for a walk to clear my mind of that awful woman.
Godfrey: Do be careful as I’ve read of such awful criminal activity in this city.
Callum: We’re in the safest part of town, Godfrey. No need to worry for my safety. But I think we both should worry for the safety of Brendon Roberts. It seems I’m not the only one pining for him to meet his maker. I wonder who else has it in for him. At any rate, Godfrey, please see to it that our guests are well taken care of in my absence.

Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship. Have a refreshing walk.

Callum opens the door and walks down his winding parking lot to the street. As he steps onto the pavement, a shadowy figure comes careening around the corner and slams into him. The skateboard goes flying into the bushes alongside the road.

Callum: Watch where you’re going!
Justin: Dude, I’m sorry. (getting up to retrieve his skateboard)
Callum (recognizing him): Justin, is it?
Justin: Do I know you?
Callum: Let’s just say I’m a friend of your uncle. My name is Callum.
Justin: Oh, you’re one of them! Fags!
Callum (sotto voce): I see you have the makings of a Cheney in progress. (now aloud) I wouldn’t quite call myself that. I’m not into labels. Of course in my country, fags are technically cigarettes.

Justin: Oh yeah, you do sound funny like you’re from a different country. You sound like Russell Brand.

Callum: I take umbrage against that comment, and I’m sure Russ would as well.
Justin: You know him?
Callum: Of course, I do. He interviewed me on his show. I know all the famous celebrities back home.

Justin: Like who?
Callum: I know lots of them. Sacha Baron Cohen, the Beckhams, all the Spice Girls, Amy Winehouse, Noel and Liam Gallagher, Hugh Grant, and Coldplay. Would you like for me to go on?

Justin: Wow! I was told that I would run into lots of celebrities here in Los Angeles. I’ve been here less than a month, and I haven’t seen shit. Yeah, some of my classmates’ parents are movie stars, but they’re hardly home. They say their parents are in Canada filming or in New York or Europe.

Callum: You like movie stars?
Justin: Yeah, I’m gonna be one soon…bigger than them all. I’ll be the next Shia LeBeouf.

Callum: Well, you certainly have the looks for it.
Justin: Are you hitting on me?
Callum: For the record, I tend to fancy orderly blokes, and given your slovenly nature, you would hardly qualify as even a last resort in my book.

Justin (dismissively): How do you know my uncle? He’s never mentioned you.
Callum: As I understand it, he can’t really talk, eat, or masturbate at the moment. But trust me, I’m a good friend of the family. Anyway, what are you doing out so late?

Justin: I’m ditching staying at that house.
Callum: You’re running away? Why?
Justin: I’ve had enough of Nathan. He’s such a dick, always thinking he knows everything. Besides, he’s such a downer since my uncle’s been in the hospital.

Callum: He’s probably worried sick over you. You should really go home.
Justin: No way! I hate it there.
Callum: Well, did you like it over at Kyle and Heath’s?
Justin: How do you know about them?
Callum: It’s a close-knit community here.
Justin: Yeah, all you fairies fuck around with each other.
Callum: Oh really? To whom are you referring now?
Justin: Well, I know that Heath is cheating on Kyle with someone. I came home in the middle of the day last week because I had forgotten my book report that I had copied from the Internet. When I went into the house, it sounded like Heath moaning, and I knew he wasn’t with Kyle because I was just on the phone with Kyle to find out where he hides the spare key under the flowerpot on the porch. Kyle was at the police station, following up a lead on the fire in the park.

Callum: Well, I can assure you that not all of the homosexual community delights in acts of infidelity. At any rate, I saw how your face lit up when I mentioned Coldplay. You know they’re coming to Los Angeles soon, and I have two front row tickets to their concert. I don’t think I’ll be able to attend as I’ll be flying out for business in Manchester. Would you like to have them?

Justin: Hell yeah!
Callum: Well, I can also get you tickets to Glastonbury later this summer. Of course, you’d need your uncle’s permission to fly out the country.

Justin: I’ve always wanted to go there. Would you really take me?
Callum: Yes, with your uncle or guardian’s permission. At any rate, let’s go inside and I’ll get those Coldplay tickets for you.

Justin: Thanks.

Justin follows Callum back into his house, his mouth agape at the majestic beauty of the inside of it, particularly the winding newel staircase and the opulent crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Callum: Please take a seat while I get the tickets for you. Oh, where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? Bourbon? Scotch?

Godfrey (entering): Your Lordship, I believe the young man is considerably underage to drink alcohol.

Justin: Holy shit, dude! You’ve got a butler!
Callum: You’re quite right, Godfrey. He’s like several years away from legal drinking age in this country. Anyway, Godfrey, get him a Shirley Temple and use the bottle of grenadine in the right cabinet.

Godfrey (exiting): Yes, Your Lordship.
Justin: Why does he call you that? And what the hell is a Shirley Temple?
Callum: It’s a delicious alcoholic beverage just for you so please don’t tell your uncle. And Godfrey refers to me as “His Lordship” because that’s my title. I’m part of a noble family in Britain.

Justin: Are you related to the Queen?
Callum (laughing): Not exactly. My Gavin was part of the oldest families in the country, dating back to the Norman Invasion in the 11th century—hence his French sounding surname: Armitage. I’m sure somewhere in his family tree he has a connection—albeit tenuous—to the Windsors.

Callum steps out the room and comes back with the tickets. He hands them to Justin. At that moment, Godfrey comes into the room with a glass of sparkling Shirley Temple on a silver tray. Justin takes it and starts drinking it.

Justin: This tastes sweet! Where’s the alcohol? I didn’t taste it.
Callum: You should have sipped it instead of downing it.
Godfrey: Would your Lordship like for me to make another one for our guest?
Callum: No, Godfrey, one shall suffice…
Justin: Actually, I would like another one (reaching out the glass to give to Godfrey)

Suddenly, the glass falls from Justin’s hand and shatters into pieces on the floor. His body slumps and he falls from the couch into a heap on the floor.

Godfrey: Hmm, must have been that special grenadine. I was about to inform His Lordship that Shirley Temples tend to be non-alcoholic. What would you like for me to do with him?

Callum: Take him upstairs to the bedroom in the eastern wing. Make certain the door is locked once you have laid him down.

Godfrey: Yes, Your Lordship.

Godfrey, incredibly strong for a man his age, picks up Justin and carries him out the room. Callum walks over to the telephone to dial Nathan Moynihan, who answers on the first ring.

Nathan: Callum, I know why you’re calling, and I’m so sorry about having to cancel our lunch appointment earlier today. Is it possible we could meet up for coffee in the morning after the run in Griffith Park?

Callum: Sure, Nathan. Are you all right? You sound agitated.
Nathan: My nephew is missing.
Callum: I didn’t know you had a nephew.
Nathan: Well, actually, he’s Brendon’s nephew, but you know what I mean.
Callum: Have you called the police?
Nathan: I can’t technically file a missing person’s report for another 48 hours. He’s only been gone for about an hour. I’ll call Kyle and Heath to see if he showed up at their place.

Callum: Who are they?
Nathan: Oh, Kyle is a police detective, and Heath, his partner, is a firefighter. Justin stayed with them during my time in the hospital.

Callum: If you don’t mind my asking, where in Los Angeles do they live?
Nathan: West Hollywood. Anyway, Callum, I need to go, but thanks for calling. See you in the morning.

Callum (replacing the phone in its cradle): Oh, yes, I shall definitely see you in the morning. Perhaps in bed next to each other!

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Tristan enters his apartment to find his roommate Vittoria on the couch, waiting for him.

Vittoria: Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you all evening.
Tristan: I’ve been at the office, bitching at Lloyd and those bastards.
Vittoria: What’s wrong now?
Tristan: They’re throwing some shit at me that my realty license is invalid.
Vittoria: And what does that mean?
Tristan: For starters, I don’t get commission for the sale of the house.
Vittoria: They can’t do that to you! You should see a lawyer about that.
Tristan: With what money, Vitt?
Vittoria: Yeah, how could I forget that you’re fucking broke? I am the one after all paying the rent and all the damn bills in this apartment! By the way, rent is due next week.

Tristan: I’m gonna talk to Callum about this. I know he has some pull with these people. I’ll get my commission and then everything will be fine. He’s going to get the charges dropped against me, all our creditors will be paid off, and everything can go back to normal.

Vittoria: Not exactly. What about the other problem? You know which one, the major one.

Tristan: Leave that to me. Once I get what I need and want from Callum, everything will fall into place.

Vittoria: Yeah, well, it had better otherwise we’re royally fucked. Waitressing tables don’t pay much. Good thing that tourist season is here, and all these foreigners have loads of money thanks to the weak dollar… and I made a little money on the side dealing.

Tristan: You better be careful with that. Kyle has vowed to crack down on that.
Vittoria: Well, he’s currently occupied with other matters like arson, hate crimes, etc. Nonetheless, he’s a problem that needs to be handled.

Tristan: Don’t worry about him. I’ve got an inside source to everything he’s doing or thinking. Kyle Walgrove won’t get the upper hand. I guarantee you that.

HEATH ALCOTT AND KYLE WALGROVE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Heath Alcott sits in his dining room at the table, the remnants of a proposed romantic dinner slowly dying away into the night. The taper candles have burned midway, the rivulets of wax falling and dotting the tabletops at intervals. Heath’s champagne glass is empty while the one on the other side looks full, the bubbles still fizzing well over an hour after first being poured. The pot roast has gone cold, and Heath pours himself another glass as the key turns in the lock. Kyle Walgrove enters the house, coming over to Heath and bending down to kiss him.

Kyle: Good evening. You stayed up this late for me.
Heath: I had prepared a romantic dinner for you with your favorite… pot roast.
Kyle: Oh, Babe, I ate already on the way home.
Heath: You promised that you would be home early tonight. I wanted us to have some alone time.
Kyle: I’m really sorry. I got held up at work… this one case has just taken up all my time. (looking at the table arrangement) Yeah, looks like you went through a lot of trouble for me. How about tomorrow night I take you out for a great dinner? You can have me all to yourself then.

Heath (rising from the table): Why can’t I have you right now? (reaching for the fly on his trousers)

Kyle (brushing his hand away): Babe, I’m beat right now. It’s been a long day. I promise we can do this in the morning when I’m more energized.

Natalie Imbruglia’s iconic song “Torn” plays over the following action:

Kyle walks out of the room, leaving Heath to exhale a moment of disappointment. He angrily blows out all the candles before an impulse drives him to knock them all down in one fell swoop of his hand, sending them flying off the table and landing on the floor. He then clears the table, taking what was Kyle’s plate and dumping the entire thing into the bin. He takes his plate to the sink and rather than place it gently, he smashes it over the sink division. Tears flow down his face as he places any remaining food in the refrigerator before heading to the bedroom. Kyle had already gone to bed. He hadn’t heard a fucking thing! A trained officer of the law, and he won’t respond to sounds of disturbance. Of course he never has time for me anymore so why should he care? Hell, if I were to burn the house down, he would look past me, even if I were holding the fucking torch!

All these tortuous thoughts racked Heath’s mind as he slid into bed next to Kyle, laying his head onto the pillow and fighting the urge to relive the carnal moment that took place twelve prior hours in that very bed. He prayed that Tristan would not be a part of his dreams tonight.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Callum checks his watch, duly noting the time as half past ten. He summons Godfrey to inform him he’s going over to Nathan Moynihan’s house.

Callum: Is Justin still asleep?
Godfrey: Completely in slumber land, Your Lordship. I see you have put on your coat. Are you going out?

Callum: I’m going round to Nathan’s.
Godfrey: Do you think that a wise idea at this hour?
Callum: He’ll be thrilled with the news that I found Justin. Of course, I’ll neglect to mention the part about drugging him, but once Nathan knows that I “found” his missing nephew, he’ll be most grateful to me, and our relationship can take serious flight from there.

Godfrey: I see. Well, would you like for me to get the car ready?
Callum: No, I’m going to run over there. Don’t wait up for me (winking).

Godfrey opens the door and Callum leaves, breaking into a sprint down the winding road, the cool wind whipping at his face as he makes his way to Nathan’s home. Upon getting there, he notices that there is another car in the parking lot. He nearly reaches the doorstep when the door opens, golden light spilling out into the dark night. Callum instinctively retreats behind a huge tree, still within earshot as the two figures come outside onto the porch.

Allison: Nathan, I’m sure he’ll show up. It’s only been three hours.
Nathan: I-I just feel like a failure at parenting.
Allison: You’ll make a great parent. Besides, you’ll soon have another opportunity.
Nathan: Well, thanks for surprising me with the news.
Allison: Well, you had to be the first to know about it besides us doctors. Chloe and I are just so happy. She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. After the first two miscarriages, she was an absolute wreck, but those both happened during the first trimester, which is why we wanted to make certain that we were somewhat out of the woods this time. So in six months, we’ll be one big happy family, and I owe it all to you, Nathan.

Nathan: I only did what I thought was right, and well, having Brendon’s approval only solidified the decision.

Allison: This is as much your baby is it is ours. He or she is going to have a loving father and two mommies. I want you to be a part of his/her life.

At that moment, Callum’s legs felt numb, threatening to buckle underneath his body weight. A cold, steely knot formed within his stomach, rooting him to the ground. His lungs were suddenly short of oxygen as in that moment all his hopes were swallowed by his greatest fear come true. His conscience was compelling him to step from the shadows, make his appearance known, and calm Nathan’s nerves, allaying any anxiety he had over Justin’s wellbeing. Yet upon moving an inch forward, his eyes took in the tableau before him: Allison holding Nathan in her arms, granting him a reassuring embrace that all would be well—followed by a kiss on his cheeks—surely one of platonic nature yet the simple act sparked a brooding sense of anger within Callum.

Nathan was the biological father of Allison and Chloe’s child-to-be!

Nathan: Well, I think that the group doesn’t need to know about this for now. We’ll break that news at the autumn ball when announcing who prepares the best side dish.

Allison: Of course, the minute it pops out with your magnetic smile, even the nurses will know it’s yours.


Scorching tears streamed from Callum’s eyes, burning his cold cheeks as they trickled down to his mouth, the saltiness a mysterious taste. He willed himself to regain his composure, wipe away any remnants of his emotional outlet, and slowly maneuvered his way in the darkness to the street, careful not to produce any sounds that would betray his presence.

The cold wind was to his back, pushing him onward in his new mission. His flight back home was one for the record books—one which Pheidippides would be envious. Out of breath, he pushed him inside the front door, entering the foyer and sitting on the steps of the newel staircase. He started when the presence of Godfrey awakened him from his deep state of thinking.

Godfrey: Back so soon, Your Lordship. I take it that Mr. Moynihan had already retired for the day. Nevertheless, I’m sure he’ll be elated with the news of his nephew in the morning.

Callum: What makes you say that, Godfrey? (noting the puzzled look on his servant’s face) Under no circumstances is Justin to leave this house until I say so. Keep him locked inside and doped up if necessary. Nathan and Allison have made a fool of me, and now it’s time to get back at them both. By the time I’m through with them, they’ll rue the day they ever met me.

TO BE CONTINUED…