The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 13: “The Sh*t Hits the Fan”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Rodrigo Caldozar: fine-looking, Latin descent, tall, mid-20’s, athletic and muscled, relentless personality, brown hair and dark eyes

Detective Jack Milton: middle-aged, burly, dark hair and penetrating eyes, dogged, blunt, uncompromising character

ALISON TRUDEAU’S HOME, LOS FELIZ, FRIDAY EVENING

Allison entered her home, threw her keys onto the coffee table in the living room, and collapsed onto the couch. Chloe came into the house shortly thereafter. They had argued the entire way home.

Chloe: I don’t understand why you let Callum do that! He took our baby!

Allison: Chloe, he wasn’t ours to bring home. He was Callum’s son.

Chloe: No, he’s not. He’s my baby… our baby. (pause) You claim you love me, but you let a complete stranger take away the most precious thing to me.

Allison (sotto voce): Believe me, he took away your baby… just not the one you’re thinking about. (aloud) I’m going to have a glass of wine. Would you like one?

Chloe: Don’t you dare try to blot me out with alcohol. We need to talk about this.

Allison: Chloe, I’m becoming a bit concerned about you.

Chloe: Why? I feel fine other than a little back pain. Everything else seems well with the exception of not having my baby with me.

Allison (crossing over to her): Honey, you lost the baby. Don’t you remember the accident in the park?

Chloe (memory slowly coming back to her): Maybe I’ve also lost my mind.

Allison: No, you’ve just been through a major tragedy, and Callum’s baby was the first one you saw so soon after the miscarriage.

Chloe: I want my baby back so badly. It’s not fair.

Allison (coming to hug her): I love you.

Chloe: One of the nurses casually remarked that I could always adopt. I may look into it next week.

Allison (hesitantly): Honey, that’s a very complicated and drawn-out procedure, and I’m not sure that’s the best measure for you to take right now.

Chloe (pulling away from her): Do you even want to have children?

Allison: Why would you ask that?

Chloe: Because I get the direct impression that you don’t care one way or the other about us having kids.

Allison: How could you say that? I supported it wholeheartedly.

Chloe: Yeah, after Nathan agreed to be the donor. You’ve always approved of anything he advocates.

At that moment, Allison’s cell phone rang, and she answered it, her expression growing graver with the obvious news communicated to her. Chloe had observed all the facial expressions on Allison’s face.

Chloe (upon Allison snapping the phone shut): Who was that?

Allison: That was Nathan. There’s been an accident. Justin was involved in a car crash. I’ve got to get to the hospital now.

Chloe: But what about us? W-We need to discuss this, Allison.

Allison: Not now, Chloe. We can talk about this later.

Chloe: It’s always later with you, Allison! I always come last. It’s always Nathan who’s first along with any of his problems.

Allison (coming to kiss her): I love you. You know that… but I really have to see about Justin. He’s in critical condition. I would love to stay and talk this out with you, but I’m sure you understand my situation. I’ll get back here just as soon as I can.

Chloe: Don’t worry about me, Allison. I’ll find a book to keep me company.

Allison: I’m just going to lock all the doors and windows. Call the police if you see or hear anything strange. Maybe I should call Drake and see if he can come over—

Chloe: I don’t need a sitter. I’ll be fine on my own.

Allison (kissing her): Okay, you can reach me on my cell. Bye!

Once the door slammed, Chloe took a seat on the couch, crunching herself into the fetal position before attempting to cry herself to sleep.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Nathan (rushing up to Kyle, pushing Brendon in his wheelchair): Kyle, what happened? The doctors and nurses haven’t told us anything other than Justin was in an accident. He’s in the operating room, and we can’t get anyone to give us a straightforward answer about his condition.

Kyle: I know nothing of his present condition. I only was just informed shortly after I left the banquet. Apparently, Justin was joyriding in a stolen car and wrecked it on Mulholland Drive.

Brendon (incredulously): A stolen car?

Kyle: Well, it certainly wasn’t his car. The model was way too expensive for Justin’s allowance, and besides Justin doesn’t even have a valid driver’s license.

Brendon (sighing): Oh my God!

Kyle: And there’s more. There was thousands of dollars and jewelry found alongside his body, leading us to speculate that he may broken into someone’s home and stolen all this stuff.

Nathan: Do you know whose—

Kyle: They’re running the license plate on the vehicle. All I know is whoever is the owner is going to be supremely pissed off that his Aston Martin has been reduced to a pile of garbage.

Nathan: An Aston Martin?

Kyle: Yeah, according to the report, it was a vintage model.

Brendon: An Aston Martin, you say? Well, it doesn’t sound like something Jay Leno would be interested in owning. It sounds too British a model.

Nathan: What are you implying?

Brendon: Just that you’re number one admirer may have something to do with this.

Kyle: Who are you talking about? Callum? I’m pretty certain he had nothing to do with it.

Brendon: And how is that?

Kyle: For starters, he was that the banquet with Allison and me around the time of the accident.

Brendon: I still don’t believe it.

Nathan: Why are you so quick to jump to conclusions about Callum? You’ve certainly adopted Allison’s paranoia regarding him.

Kyle (sensing tension): Okay, you guys, we’re all on edge over this, but Brendon, you should know that none of us have all the facts. Justin is certainly not above stealing, vandalism, illegal drug abuse, or any other juvenile crime on which I’ve busted him since you two were incapacitated.

Brendon: Just what are you saying, Kyle? That Justin could be fully responsible for this?

Kyle: That’s not so farfetched a notion, is it?

Brendon (manually moving his wheelchair): I need to go find someone that can be helpful.

Kyle: Well, pardon me, for speaking the truth.

Nathan (to Brendon): I’ll come with you.

Brendon: Yeah, you do that. We need to talk!

Allison (rushing down the hallway): Kyle, oh my God, what happened? You said they found Justin in a car accident. Is he okay?

Kyle: You’ll need to speak with one of your colleagues about that. I’m just as in the dark as you.

Allison: I just pray he’s fine. Brendon and Nathan have been through so much already.

Kyle: Well, they’re off arguing now.

Allison: Arguing? Over what? (pause) Oh, no… not

Kyle: Callum!

Allison (sighing): That bastard never rests.

Kyle: No, turn around. He just came around the corner.

Allison (flipping around): What the hell are you doing here? How dare you show your face! Trying to score points with Nathan? Well, it won’t work this time. Brendon’s onto your game. He knows everything.

Kyle: Calm down, Allison. Callum, what are you doing here?

Callum: Well, I, too, heard the news about young Mr. Roberts’ accident.

Kyle (interrupting): Callum, you’re not family so you really shouldn’t be here.

Callum: Yet I’m the owner of the vehicle that Brendon’s nephew stole and wrecked.

Allison (staggered): What?

Callum: Godfrey called to inform me that someone had broken into both the house and garage. There are priceless valuables missing, Detective Walgrove, and I’m here to tell you that should that ruffian survive, I want him prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. He just destroyed my late husband’s most prized possession that held sentimental meaning to the both of us.

Allison: Have some compassion, you bastard! Hs life may be in the balance.

Callum: Why don’t you go and find out his status? If he’s not dead yet, then perhaps I can take him out of his misery.

Allison (leaving, Kyle joining her): Go to hell, Callum!

At that moment, a very handsome Latin hunk named Rodrigo came around the corner. Youthful looking and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that remarkably hugged his muscular body, he casually approached Callum.

Rodrigo: Mr. Sutcliffe?

Callum (turning around): Yes.

Rodrigo: My name is Rodrigo Caldozar, and I’m a graduate student at Tom Bradley College. I currently have an internship with the Hollycove Tribune, and I’m covering the incident that just happened. I was just now trying to find the snack machines when I overheard you state you’re the owner of the stolen and wrecked vehicle.

Callum: Look, Mr.—

Rodrigo: Caldozar, but you can call me Rodrigo.

Callum: Well, Rodrigo, I have two words for you. NO COMMENT! I’m sure you’ll be hearing that a lot should you go on to have an illustrious career in journalism.

Rodrigo (withdrawing a state-of-the-art voice recorder): Okay then, but I must tell you that I’m one of your biggest fans. I’ve read all your novels—some of them twice. They were that good. Anyway, I was wondering if I could have a quick interview with you for my school newspaper. It wouldn’t come out until the orientation edition in September, but all my co-workers would be so envious of me. (shoving the voice recorder in Callum’s face) What do you say?

Callum (pushing it away and starting to walk): First off, you should learn some propriety, but then again I understand you Americans and specifically southern Californians need daily reminders of decorum.

Rodrigo: My apologies, Mr. Sutcliffe.

Callum: And if you wish for an interview, please contact my agent.

Rodrigo (suddenly grabbing Callum by the shoulders to stop his flight): Please, Mr. Sutcliffe, it would mean so much.

Callum (jerking away): Don’t you ever touch me again! (suddenly realizing that the voice recorder was on) How dare you! (snatching the device from Rodrigo and rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction, neglecting the man’s shouts to return his property)

MEANWHILE… BRENDON ROBERTS’ ROOM

Nathan: Brendon, you really should be lying down.

Brendon: I’m not resting until I know how he’s doing.

Nathan: He’ll pull through this. He’s a fighter.

Brendon: And apparently also a thief, according to you and Kyle.

Nathn: Let’s not get into that now. Besides, that doesn’t matter.

Brendon: But you and Justin do matter to me, and I don’t want either of you to leave me.

Nathan: I’m not leaving you, Brendon. I love you. Do you want me to say it until I’m blue in the face?

Brendon: Tell it to your new boyfriend!

As if the fates were playing a twist of irony on the couple, it was at that moment Callum rushed into their room in his flight from Rodrigo—totally oblivious to the occupants of the room.

Brendon: Speak of the devil!

Callum (spinning around): Oh, pardon my intrusion. I was just fleeing from this reporter.

Brendon: It seems he’s never an inch away from you, Nate.

Callum (coming over to them): Oh, you must be Mr. Roberts, Nathan’s partner. (extending his hand)

Brendon: Nathan, if you know what’s good for the both of you, you’ll get him out of here now.

Callum (putting his hand down, content with not having to shake hands with Brendon): I’m terribly sorry to hear about your nephew.

Brendon: Don’t dare mention him. (to Nathan) Get him out now! Ouch! (putting his hand to his bandaged head as if in pain)

Nathan: Brendon, are you all right?

Callum: Should I call the nurses? (sotto voce) Or the undertaker?

Nathan: Callum, I think you should go now.

Brendon (suddenly rising from the chair, hand still to his head): Get out!

The photographic images of Nathan and Callum still burning in his mind, Brendon moved toward Callum and pushed into him with all the force within his convalescing body. Callum teetered briefly on his heels, his loose jacket falling to the floor. Brendon’s energy reserves were fully expended in that moment, for he fell to the floor shortly after the action. Nathan immediately rushed to him, frantically calling his name as he picked him up. Callum made a gesture to assist, but Nathan put out a hand, implying for him to go no further.

Brendon: I said get him out!

Nathan (fearing the worst of Brendon’s condition): Callum, I said to leave. (rushes to him and forcefully pushes him out the door before returning to Brendon) Are you okay? I’m calling the nurse.

Brendon: Please don’t. I’m fine. The last thing I need is for them to pump me with meds or stick me with needles. I need to be alert for Justin.

Nathan (wrapping his arms around Brendon): Justin will be fine.

Brendon: Not with him around this hospital!

Nathan: Who? Callum?

Brendon: I don’t trust him. What if he had something to do with what happened to Justin? What if he purposely went after my son?

Nathan: Now you’re really sounding paranoid. Callum doesn’t know you’re Justin’s biological father nor does anyone else besides me. There’s no reason on this planet for Callum to want to do anything malicious to Justin. It’s most likely what Kyle said: Justin stole the car along with the money and jewelry and got into the wreck all by himself.

Brendon: Why are you so critical of him?

Nathan: Look, I know he’s your flesh and blood, and that makes you biased to an extent, but he’s not the product of the Immaculate Conception. He’s just as fallible as any other kid. He’s done stuff that would make any father or guardian cringe, and it’s time you realize that. (pause) I really shouldn’t be getting into this.

Brendon: No, continue on… enlighten me because apparently you know more about him than I do.

Nathan: You’ve barely seen the boy in the sixteen or seventeen years he’s been alive!

Brendon: And what makes you such the expert?

Nathan: I work with and around kids nine mouths out of the year. Justin’s behavior at Hollycove Prep was disruptive and unacceptable, but I turned a blind eye and hoped he would change his ways. He got caught smoking pot and earlier this week one of my colleagues informed me that he had vandalized the donor plaques in the lobby that first week we were both hospitalized. He literally was a disaster waiting to happen.

Brendon (sighing): Why are you telling me this now?

Nathan: Because you need to know what we’re dealing with, especially if you want us to be a family. (pause) We’re going to be parents, Bren, and we’re bound to have arguments like this. Straight parenting couples have them all the time.

Brendon (pausing): So you’ve given thought to my wish for us all?

Nathan: Of course, I have. You know I love you (holding Brendon’s hand and then kissing it) but I want you to be prepared for the worst… at first.

Brendon: What do you mean?

Nathan: Well, he’s not going to react so favorably to you once he’s told you’re his father (pause) or do you ever want to tell him?

Brendon wasn’t able to immediately answer the question, for Allison came into the room to inform them that Justin was out of the operating room. The doctors had informed her that the prospect of his recovery looked good, though they would know more once he was conscious. They all retreated out the room. Moments later, Callum entered the deserted room in search of his expensively priced designer jacket. The nerve of Brendon to force Nathan into pushing me out the room! There’s my jacket… and on the filthy floor no less. Picking it up, Callum soon discovered the voice recorder had fallen out the pocket and had been lying on the floor beside it. The device was still in “record mode” when something intuitively told him to rewind and listen to it. What his ears heard in the next few minutes was what his devious mind had hoped for in the past few days: a weapon to defeat his newest rival Brendon Roberts.

HEATH AND KYLE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SATURDAY MORNING

Heath opened his eyes to the sunlight pouring through the blinds. His hand routinely reached over for Kyle’s body, and a sharp pain shout through his middle finger. Turning over on his side, he saw that Kyle had left a rose on the pillow, foolishly forgetting to remove the last thorn at the base of the cut stem. Reactively putting his finger in his mouth, Heath read the note attached to the pillow which told him not to make any plans for that evening as there was something special he needed to ask him.

Kyle most likely went back to the hospital to check on Justin. I hope they don’t trace anything back to Callum as I need his help dealing with Bralen. He looked at the clock and saw it was nearing time for the Saturday morning run, which was now in Silver Lake under Nathan’s presidential edict to relocate it there. Heath rushed to the drawers to find a pair of clean socks. He found none, an indication it was time for laundry. He decided to borrow a pair from Kyle and went through his drawer when his hand came across a small velvet-covered jewelry box, which Heath instinctively knew contained something special in it. Upon opening it, he found two gold bands, and as if that weren’t enough he saw two plane tickets hidden under two pairs of boxers. He couldn’t resist snooping and saw they were tickets to Ibiza. Heath could barely contain his excitement. Kyle was going to ask the obvious question. In that moment, he could have run a marathon but instead chose to run about seven miles in Silver Lake.

Fifteen minutes later, all the early risers of Los Angeles Outrunners had gathered at the Silver Lake Recreation Center. What had been a burst of bliss coursing through his body only twenty minutes earlier now turned into a seething attack of depression when Heath saw Tristan arrive with Bralen. Allison, who was supposed to be the host, was nowhere to be seen, and elderly founding member Jeremy Dodd had been called in to substitute. He made no reference to the events of the prior night but made certain to remind everyone of Pride Weekend and that the volunteers for the beer booths at the festival should show up on time as this was a big fundraiser for the organization.

Heath saw Callum arrive just as everyone had finished announcing their names and take off for their respective running/walking routes.

Callum: How are you this morning? You don’t look so chipper. Let me guess. It’s loverboy over there with his whore, Mr. Olympdick.

Heath: If you mean, Bralen, then yes! He’s never an inch away from Tristan.

Callum: And I’m sure he gets more than inch out of him.

Heath: Well, when are we going to bring Bralen down?

Callum: Correction, Heathcliff. When are you going to take him down a notch? The answer would be today during your shift at the Pride Weekend beer booths. (pulling out and handing him a towel from the backpack looped on his shoulder)

Heath: What’s this? (unraveling it) Oh, shit!

Callum: Don’t be such a drama queen. I know what you’re thinking. That’s not cocaine in that vial.

Heath: But this sure is a needle.

Callum: It’s a syringe filled with a potent dose of steroids.

Heath: And just how the hell am I going to get this into Bralen’s system? He may like the prick of a cock into him, but I’m sure he would feel this and know it’s a needle.

Callum: That’s why you need to put that powder into his drink. It will render him drowsy and semi-intoxicated. He then won’t feel a thing when you inject him. This stuff is easily detectable and will stay in his system for a considerable period of time. And before you start with the questions, I know you two are working the same shift in the same beer booth today so you’ll have ample time to “stick it” to Bralen—pun intended. (pause) Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to the hospital and make certain that delinquent Justin doesn’t get the both of us in hotter water with what he knows.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, ALLISON’S OFFICE

Allison was in deep thought about the past twelve hours. So much had happened. There was the dinner at Fancy’s, then Callum’s appearance followed by Chloe’s minor breakdown, and then the news of Justin in the car crash. And it all comes full circle to Callum. I know he’s behind everything. She had managed to get about four hours of sleep on her office couch. She looked around it, noticing all the folders and paperwork stacked on her desk and in her inbox. It would be a while before she could return to the physical tasks of surgery. But there’s always paperwork. I should probably go through some of this. Sorting through her mail, she came across a manila envelope that had her name written across it. She opened it and withdrew a DVD that had a post-it note attached to it that read “Something You’ve Been Missing Out On!”

She put the DVD into the computer, the Autoplay feature popping up just as there was a knock at the door. She rose from her chair and opened the door to the appearance of a middle-aged, brawny male, who immediately identified himself as Detective Jack Milton.

Allison: How may I help you?

Milton: I’ve been reassigned to the case involving your attack in Griffith Park. I’m replacing Detective Walgrove. May I have a few minutes of your time?

Allison (hesitantly): Uh, sure, come in. you’ll have to pardon the look of the—

Her statement was punctuated by the sound of what was indisputably a moan released during sexual pleasure. Noting the expression of bewilderment on Detective Milton’s face, Allison turned on her heels, realizing the sounds were coming from her computer. Most likely a practical joke from a staff member. Excusing herself, she rushed to the computer and was briefly paralyzed in her tracks when she saw the identity of the two merrymakers on the monitor. It was Callum and Peyton. She naturally hadn’t seen Detective Milton walk up behind her, but his voice startled her.

Milton: Dr. Trudeau, are you all right?

Allison (embarrassed and rushing to turn off the computer): Pardon me, just some staff members thinking it was a joke.

Although he had most likely heard the sounds, she prayed that he hadn’t seen any of the visuals, but his next question proved it was too late.

Milton: Was that Dr. Peyton Ashland in that video?

Allison (feigning ignorance): Who?

Milton: Your colleague Dr. Peyton Ashland, who I believe is behind the attacks made on you and Ms. Dalton.

What was he talking about? And why was he suspecting Peyton?

Milton: You should come clean with me, Dr. Trudeau. That way it won’t get ugly.

Allison: Detective, I’m not sure I understand what you’re hinting at.

Milton: I just told you that Dr. Ashland is our number one suspect. An eyewitness testified that a man matching Dr. Ashland’s description was in the park and shot at you and Ms. Dalton. Of course we couldn’t ascribe a motive to Dr. Ashland until now. You have been blackmailing him.

Allison: Excuse me!

Milton: I recognized the other person in the video as Mr. Callum Sutcliffe. You’re in possession of a video that shows Dr. Ashland in a compromising position with Mr. Sutcliffe—something that could potentially damage his career.

Allison: Look, Detective, this is my first time seeing this.

Milton: Yeah, and the Pope is Jewish. Admit it. You’ve been holding this over Dr. Ashland’s head, threatening to go the medical board with it.

Allison: Like I said, this my first time seeing this video.

Milton: But this isn’t your first knowledge of this incident, is it? Last week you were seen and heard threatening Dr. Ashland after your attack.

Allison: Who told you that?

Milton: That’s confidential, Dr. Trudeau, but I’m betting you won’t deny it happened.

Allison’s muted expression and brief silence only confirmed Milton’s suspicions. At that moment, his cell phone rang, and he answered it.

Milton: I’ve got to take this call, Dr. Trudeau. I firmly believe the pieces are falling into place for this case to be closed, and you’ve got evidence that could implicate your own involvement in the attacks made against you.

Allison: That’s bogus, Detective!

Milton (on his way out the door): I suggest you get a good attorney, Dr. Trudeau, and don’t leave town anytime soon.

Allison slammed the door behind him. She soon began to feel ill and realized she hadn’t eaten anything, and while she despised the cafeteria, she needed something that would energize her strength. Of course as fate would have it, she ran into Callum on her way there.

Allison: Just when I think you couldn’t stoop any lower.

Callum: What have I done now?

Allison: You can’t keep count of all the people whose lives you’ve wrecked or in the process of destroying. (pause) I just had a chat with the new detective on the case, and he’s under the impression that I’m blackmailing Peyton.

Callum: What on earth would you give you that idea?

Allison: You’re trying to frame Peyton for the attacks. I received a mysterious DVD in of you two fucking your brains out. Apparently my “possession” of this constitutes an outlandish motive for Peyton to attempt murder. This has your handiwork written all over it.

Callum: Allison, I didn’t know you were a porn enthusiast, although I was under the impression that it was straight women who loved gay porn. Maybe once you and Peyton have both lost your medical licenses, you can each take up separate careers in it. Lord knows Peyton’s got the equipment to be a big success. You, on the other hand, may face some challenges. You might wish to test your skills with the frat houses at the local colleges, although they tend to be into youthful girls, but with luck, you may be classified as a milf.

Allison: I’m sick of your bullshit, Callum!

Callum: You had better get used to it because I’m not going anywhere, and I get what and who I want.

Allison: It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you get Nathan.

Callum: How sweet that you’re his guardian angel. Too bad you weren’t more of one for poor Chloe.

Allison (pushing him away, his body slamming into the wall): You bastard! You lay one hand on her, and I’ll kill you.

Callum: Careful, Dr. Trudeau, you don’t want to be witnessed assaulting me like you were witnessed threatening Peyton last week. You know you should really watch that temper of yours, especially around me. You know what happened the last time you physically attacked me.

Allison: So you’re openly admitting it now.

Callum: The only thing I’ll admit to you is that the lives of everyone you hold dear are beholden to me. Chloe’s lost her sanity, thinking my son’s her baby… Peyton could lose his license…Justin nearly lost his life…Kyle lost his case due to me…Brendon’s going to lose his man to me… and Nathan’s naturally going get lost in my bedroom—and the best part of it is that you can’t do a damn thing about it.

Allison: The hell I can’t!

Callum: Don’t fool yourself, Allison. When was the last time Nathan believed one disparaging remark you made about me? He’s losing his confidence in you as a friend, especially after you punched me.

Allison: You deserved it.

Callum: You know I ironically should thank you for that occurrence. After all, it was Nathan who tended to the wound so now both his lips and hands have been on my body… and just to emphasize, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from taking it to the next level (brazenly approaching her) because the next time you meddle with my plans, I promise you that guns and horses will be the least of your worries. (starting to leave) Oh, and make a copy of the DVD for the Outrunners Movie Night.

Callum victoriously walked off, seeing the rare sight of undeniable unease and fear pasted on her face.

KYLE AND HEATH’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, SATURDAY NOONTIME

Kyle arrived home around noon. He knew that Heath would be working the beer booth so this gave him time to tidy the place and start preparations for the special night before them. He knew that Heath was the romantic sort and would like to be wined and dined before being asked the big question. He had a lot of things to get done within the next few hours, including making cordon bleu even though he wasn’t that much of a chef in the kitchen. I need some music on, he thought. He walked into the living room to seek out the remote control. It wasn’t on the table in its normal location. It must have fallen on the floor underneath the couch. He got down on his knees and reached under it. Ouch! What the fuck! Withdrawing his hand, he could see he had been cut. There were still broken glass fragments. It reminded him of Heath’s minor foot cut the other day. I guess I’ll go over this place with a fine tooth comb otherwise Heath will be carrying me—bandaged—over the threshold.

Putting thought to action, Kyle moved away all the heavy furniture—finding the elusive remote in the process—and began vacuuming the living room. As was natural, he would stoop down to pick up large objects that he didn’t wish sucked away. His vision honed onto a memory card lying hiding in the corner next to broken camera fragments. He didn’t recognize the camera’s model, but he picked up the miniscule card. It must be Heath’s camera. Perhaps there are some images on here that I could include in the scrapbook I’m making for tonight. Kyle’s old friend and fag hag Trudy had suggested that as a way of visually going down memory lane together, turning pages and sharing laughs, when they would unexpectedly reach the end of the book, finding the “ring” secured on the final page. It’s so romantic, Trudy had said, he’ll probably jump into your arms that moment. I know some people like the ring in the glass of champagne, but I think this would be more to Heath’s liking.

As Kyle moved over to his laptop on the living room table, the beginning music of Maroon 5’s “Wake Up Call” begins playing through the remainder of the scene. Let’s see if there’s anything of value on here. He slipped the memory card into the designated slot in his laptop and went through the necessary clicks to get a full pictorial display of the card’s contents. Suddenly, his breathing was cut short briefly as his eyes took in the sight of Heath’s flesh salaciously making contact with that of Tristan Bersani. The sexual images instantly burned into Kyle’s mind, the visions of Tristan’s erections, and the subsequent pictures of Heath pleasuring it in numerous ways. The revelatory moment had the oddness of when one sees a car wreck on the highway in that it proved difficult for Kyle to pull his eyes away from the tragedy before him. There had already been one wreck last night. There would be another of a different kind coming soon.

SANTA MONICA BOULEVARD, PRIDE WEEKEND FESTIVAL, WEST HOLLYWOOD

It had been fifteen minutes since Heath had slipped the powder into Bralen’s water—unbeknownst to him while he was serving a beer and chit-chatting with a muscled West Hollywood clone. Heath couldn’t really tell if any noticeable effect had taken place. What have I done? His conscience begged of him. I don’t know what was in that powder. It could be poison! Maybe I should come clean and tell Bralen what I put in his drink. Suddenly, the sound of Bralen’s voice snapped him from his internal debate.

Bralen: Hey, Heath, could you take over for me for a moment? (smiling) I’m going to need a cold shower after talking that hottie. Did you see him? He’s so fucking hot! He gave me his number and address.

Heath: I thought you were with Tristan. By the way, where is he? I thought he was volunteering today.

Bralen: No, he ditched us at the last minute. He’s back at his apartment.

Heath (suddenly seeing a glaze come over Bralen’s eyes as if he were inebriated): So are you going to fool around with this new guy?

Bralen: Yeah, I was thinking about it. You know what they say?

You bastard, thought Heath. At least I would never cheat on Tristan. He’s too good a man!

Heath: No, I don’t. What do they say?

Bralen: Y-You only l-live once (starting to slur his speech). I-I think I’m going to sit down for a moment.

He attempted to sit on the stool in the booth but fell right onto his bottom. Looking around and noticing a dry spell—there was no one in close proximity to the Outrunners beer booth—Heath withdrew the syringe, crouched down next to Bralen’s fallen body, and performed an act which minutes before his conscience would have kept him from doing, but all he could imagine was having Tristan back in his life, and that meant getting Bralen out the picture. Tristan would never be with a juice junkie!

Bralen (slurring): He-Hea, what are you d-doing to m-me?

I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine. You don’t deserve Tristan.

Heath (aloud): Bralen, get up! I think you need to get some rest.

Bralen: I don’t feel okay.

Drake (coming forth to the booth): Is everything all right here?

Heath: Yeah, we’re fine, Drake. I think Bralen may be too tired. The ninety degree weather is definitely not helping him or any of us. I’m sweating up a storm.

Drake: I hear you on that one. My shift doesn’t start for another hour, but Austin can relieve you two right now.

Heath: Really? That would be great. I have to run a quick errand.

Drake: Me too. I’m heading over to the hospital to check on Brendon, Nate, and Justin. Where are you going?

Heath: I’m meeting up with a friend. Thanks again. See you later.

Heath gathered his belongings and hurriedly left the booth, oblivious to the fact that Bralen was still crouched in the corner. Austin showed up and went over to help him from the floor.

Austin: Bralen, you really look wiped out. Maybe you should go home and rest. (noticing Bralen’s eyes) You haven’t been drinking while on duty, have you?

Bralen: No, I-I’m in tr-training.

Austin: Well, all Olympians need rest, and I don’t feel right letting you drive home in your condition. I’ll call you a cab. Drake and I will bring your car after our shifts.

Bralen: Thanks.

Austin took out his mobile, dialed the cab company, but as Bralen stumbled outside the booth, his eyes latched onto the object lying on the ground where Bralen had lain. In his haste to leave his duty post, Heath had foolishly forgotten about the syringe. Now, Austin Monroe’s mind was running a different marathon of thought as he reached down, and using his handkerchief, picked up the syringe and proceeded to stow it away amongst his own belongings. There was a determined look on Austin’s face.

TRISTAN BERSANI’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Tristan had just come from having a relaxing swim in the pool, the Speedo hugging his firm buttocks as if they were a second skin. To his amazement when he walked into his apartment, the last person he expected to see was Estrella Tartaro.

Tristan: What are you doing here?

Estrella: I came here to see Vittoria, but she’s not in.

Tristan: How did you get in here?

Estrella: The door was unlocked. (seductively approaching him) I’m assuming you were waiting for me. (the palm of her hand securing itself onto the large lump inside Tristan’s Speedo)

Tristan (jerking back upon contact): I-I didn’t know you were here. Vittoria is out running some errands. You can come back later.

Estrella: So we’re alone? (pause) Good. I wanted to speak with you privately.

Tristan: About what?

Estrella: You know why I really came here.

Tristan: Estrella, I told you I’m not—

Estrella: You know I’m disappointed in you for not giving full disclosure that you were bisexual.

Tristan: I’m not bisexual. I’m gay.

Estrella: Is that so? (pause) Well, you surely fuck better than any straight guy I’ve been with. I really couldn’t tell the difference. So does loverboy know about your past life?

Tristan: What’s it matter to you? Bralen’s just a friend.

Estrella: Well, you wouldn’t want the press to get a hold of news that an Olympic athlete may be patronizing a gigolo.

Tristan: You wouldn’t—

Estrella: Mr. Jones would be lampooned in the media, the potential butt of all jokes in Beijing.

Tristan: None of it would be true. Bralen is upstanding and hasn’t paid for any services. Like I told you, I’m no longer escorting.

Estrella: Any chance you’ll reconsider in light of the possibility of bad publicity for your “friend?”

Tristan: What the hell do you want, Estrella?

Estrella: A quick fuck. And here’s an incentive (holding up a wad of $100 notes) for making it a job well done.

Completely angered by her extortionist tactics, Tristan moved behind her, grabbed her long hair and yanked it back so that she tilted her neck. His mouth went to her nape as his hands journeyed underneath her miniskirt. It was just like old times. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and her inner thighs were already moist with sexual excitement. He pulled his Speedo down only as far so his cock would have some free range of motion before he slipped it into her wet passage and banged away as his lips caressed her neck, and his hands reached around to cup onto her breasts.

The tempo increased with each of her deep exhalations and moans and just as she had reached her own climax, Tristan’s eyes looked over toward the open door—which he had forgotten to close—and his eyes met those of Heath, who was standing in the doorway, bearing witness to the scene. Estrella looked up, quickly pushed down her miniskirt, and tried her best to compose herself.

Estrella: Excuse us. I’m really embarrassed.

Tristan (reading so much pain in Heath’s facial expression): Heath, I can explain.

Heath (turning to run away): Don’t bother!

Tristan (starting to run after him): Heath!

Estrella (grabbing his arm): You may want to put your cock back in your trunks before running down the hall after him. I see I didn’t make you cum.

Tristan: Just leave me alone!

Estrella: Okay, but I really don’t understand why your friend was so upset. I’ve played for the other team occasionally, but that was primarily during my experimental phase in law school.

Tristan: Just go!

Estrella (grabbing her purse and withdrawing another $100 note): Signore Bersani, you deserve a tip for that performance (pulling open Tristan’s Speedo and dropping the money into it as if he were a go-go dancer) but next time I want some oral thrown in. I’ll be seeing you, and oh, don’t forget to close the door. I know how much of an exhibitionist you are, but we must be considerate of the neighbors.

She walks out, and Tristan slams the door behind her. Running his fingers through his hair, he darts into the bathroom for a shower to wash away his sins.

HEATH AND KYLE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Heath sat in his car outside his house, his mind a complete wreck. How could Tristan have done such a thing? I only went to see if I could talk sense into him and let him know how much I feel about him. I guess he’s over Bralen, but to move onto women? Watching him fuck her like that was just sickening. Heath’s eyes were red from the crying. Was this the end? He looked up at the home where he and Kyle had lived together for over four years. Kyle was inside. I don’t deserve you, Kyle. You’re a good man. Well, the silver lining in all this that I’ve seen Tristan for who he is, but now I have a man who truly loves me and wishes to spend the rest of his life with me. I can grow to love Kyle the way I love Tristan. I just have to fake excitement when he pulls out the rings that I saw early this morning.

Heath got out the car and walked inside the house. The living room was completely dark, but he could see the outline of Kyle sitting erect in the reclining chair. He didn’t move when Heath turned on the lights. Heath’s body tumbled to the floor as he tripped over three suitcases –a combination of his and Kyle’s luggage. Oh, my God, we’re going to Ibiza!

Heath: Are you going anywhere? I almost broke my neck over this.

Kyle: No, Heath, I’m not going anywhere that I’ll need those.

Heath: Pardon?

Kyle (still remaining seated in the chair): I thought we could take a trip down memory lane. You know recall all those magical moments that meant so much to two people in love like us.

Heath (walking over to Kyle—still solemnly seated—and wrapping his arms around him and kissing him): You’ll never know how much you mean to me.

Kyle: Why don’t you take a look at the scrapbook I made for you? It was a suggestion from one of my friends who said you’d love it.

Heath: Okay, let me get a glass of wine.

Kyle (dominantly): No, I want you to look in the scrapbook now!

Heath: Okay…if it means that much to you.

He must have the surprise in here. Trudy must have forgotten we both saw that chick flick together where she got this idea.

Kyle: Oh, it does.

Heath (sitting down and opening book): Aren’t you going to come over here and join me?

Kyle: I will soon.

He’s waiting for me to see the ring.

Heath (laughing): Oh, I remember this one. Gay Days at Disney. You looked so cute with that face paint, and I think Minnie Mouse had a major crush on you.

Kyle: Keep turning.

Heath (laughing again): Our first anniversary in San Francisco when you ran the marathon. I’ll never forget how you dragged me into that. Nearly six hours it took me, and you took a picture of me looking like hell as I cross the finish line.

Kyle: Keep going.

Heath: Why are you sitting like that? You remind me of Morpheus from The Matrix. (turning the page and laughing again) Oh my God, I had forgotten about that Halloween night over on Santa Monica Boulevard. You, me, and Tristan dressed up like the Three Stooges.

Kyle: Yeah, a bunch of fools we were! (heavily sighing) Especially me!

Heath (turning the page): Why do you say—(pause) that?

His eyes fell onto a kaleidoscopic collage of photos that showed him and Tristan together indulged in sexual debauchery.

Kyle (taking a cue from Heath’s silence and rising from the chair): Because I was such a fucking fool to ever trust you!

Heath: Kyle, I-I can explain.

Kyle: Explain what? How you managed to take Tristan’s cock and let him fuck you for weeks on end behind my back?

Heath: It didn’t start out that way.

Kyle: Why the hell should that matter to me? (shouting) You continued with it for four goddamn months and don’t lie about it. The dates were all kept on the memory card when I downloaded the photos. How could you do this to us, Heath?

Heath: You were never there for me when I needed you.

Kyle: Is that supposed to be your excuse?

Heath: It’s the truth! I was going through a lot at the time, and you were nowhere to be found. You had just gotten your big promotion and didn’t have time for me.

Kyle: So Tristan came to the rescue. Hurrah! Hurrah! Three cheers for him. He probably hit on you the moment he sensed your weakness.

Heath (a lone tear starting to stream from his eyes): I-I tired to tell him we shouldn’t but-but—

Kyle: But instead of growing a backbone, Heath, you grew an erection and things went downhill from there.

Heath: Kyle, it was a mistake, pure and simple. You were always the only one I loved.

Kyle: Is that why you had him fuck you in my police uniform? (snatching that particular photo from the album and throwing it at Heath) What? So you loved me that much you had to dress him up like me. (pause) You’re pathetic, Heath.

Heath (running hands through his hair, now crying): I really loved you, Kyle, until you fell more in love with your work than with me. Tristan at least found time for me.

Kyle (laughing): Yeah, when he wasn’t fucking around with someone else. Do you really think he gives a damn about you? He’s a fucking lowlife who’ll screw anything with two legs as long as he’ll get pleasure or money out of it.

Heath: I wish you could understand how I was feeling.

Kyle: Oh, so now you’re asking for sympathy? Do you know where to find sympathy in the dictionary, Heath? (pause) Between SHIT and SYPHILIS, and my guess is that Tristan has given you a lot of both.

Heath (suddenly growing his backbone): Well, he’s given more attention to me in the past four months than you have.

Kyle: Is that so? Was that why he and Bralen were all over each at Fancy’s last night? It really looked like he was giving you attention then. That was some show he was putting on. Face it, Heath, he’s had his fun with you and has given me his sloppy leftovers.

Heath: Speaking of leftovers, at least he enjoyed the fruits of my labor (pausing as he sees signs of recognition on Kyle’s face). Yeah, that’s right, all those time you came home for lunch and couldn’t find anything in the fridge—well, Tristan had already beat you to the punch. Whatever you wouldn’t “eat”—food or otherwise—he’d gladly eat.

Kyle (turning away from him): You’re—

Heath (cutting him off): Whatever you wouldn’t fuck, he would happily fuck… and to use your word sloppy, it definitely got sloppy sometimes, but I was thoughtful of you afterwards. I removed all the cum-stained sheets off the mattress so you’d have a nice, dry, clean bed to sleep on at night.

Kyle: I never knew you could be so—

Heath: So what? So truthful? Well, now is the time to be it. Lay all my cards out.

Kyle (shouting): Why him? Anyone else I might be able to handle, but you had to give into him. You have brains—or at least I thought you did—so what swayed you over? His body? His cock? (pause) Did you ever really love me?

Heath: Kyle, it only started out as just sex.

Kyle: Just sex, eh? You’re so pathetic!

Heath: It was the best sex I ever had. He did things to me I never thought imaginable, and I did stuff for him I’ve never done for anyone else.

Kyle: You’re only embarrassing yourself.

Heath: You always thought I would be here waiting on you whenever you found the time for me. Well, I grew tired of your shit. I needed a real man who could give me what I needed.

Kyle: Yeah, and I bet he got what he wanted.

Heath: He sure as hell did. He got what he needed from me, and I got every—and I do mean every—part of him.

Kyle (grabbing his coat and heading for the door): I don’t need to hear any of this.

Heath: No, you really should. That way you’d know how to really please a man because sometimes it was you who was the pathetic one… in bed.

Kyle (turning around, anger all over his body): You sonofabitch!

Heath: Maybe if you were more like him—

At that moment, Heath didn’t expect to be struck down by Kyle’s fist. The slamming sensation sent excruciating pain throughout his head. He placed his hand to his temple. Kyle walked to his fallen partner, who was struggling to get up, barely managing to get onto his knees.

Kyle: Get up! (pause) Don’t expect me to apologize. I said to fucking get up!

Heath: Leave me the hell alone!

Kyle: Or would you rather stay on your knees? I’m sure he liked you that way.

Heath (his mouth bleeding): He sure as hell did, and you know what? I loved every minute of it. And when I was done, I swallowed all of his cum.

Kyle (drawing his hand back to slap Heath when he suddenly stopped midair and laughed): I almost fell for it. You want me to hit you, hoping it’ll lead to some form of rough sex like the kind you and him have. (tears welling up in his eyes) What has he done to you? Where’s the man I fell in love with?

Heath (rising from the floor): Kyle, I’m still here. (crossing over to him, attempting to put his arms around him) I’m so sorry for what’s happened.

Kyle (jerking away): Just get the fuck out of here! I don’t ever want to see you again.

Heath: Kyle, you don’t mean that.

Kyle: I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I’ve already packed most of your stuff. You can get the rest at another time.

Heath: Kyle, we can work this out. I know we can.

Kyle: I said leave! (in full officer-of-the-law mode, grabbing Heath by the arm and head and leading him to the door) Don’t you ever look so much as an inch in my direction! (opening the door and pushing Heath out)

Heath fell to the hard ground. He picked himself up in just enough time to see the suitcases tossed out in the same manner followed by the slamming of the door. It was then that Heath could no longer keep up the charade, and his whole body began to convulse with the release of raw emotion. Instead of anticipated tears of joy at a prophesied proposal for a new life, they were now the regrettable manifestation of banishment from the lives of the two men whom he had loved.

ALLISON AND CHLOE’S HOME, SATURDAY NOON

Goldfrapp’s beautiful song “A&E” begins playing over the following two short scenes:

The sleeping pills had kept Chloe asleep well into late morning, but the rest had calmed her aching mind. She wanted to set things right with Allison, yet upon rising from bed and going downstairs, she soon discovered that Allison was not home. Maybe she’s still at the hospital. She called her mobile, but that went straight to voicemail. Where was she? She next phoned the hospital but none of the staff knew where she was. She made herself something to eat and waited another hour for Allison to respond or appear. Chloe would be sadly disappointed well beyond that expanse of time.

LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, TOM BRADLEY WING

Allison had never felt so shaken in her life. While she knew she could personally handle Callum, others had to be taken into consideration. Chloe, Justin, and Nathan in his weakened state of mind were no match for Callum’s clout and monetary influence. Allison realized there was only one measure to be taken for the protection of her loved ones. She would have to ally herself with Callum’s supposedly sworn enemies: the wealthy Armitage family.

Attendant: Next!

Allison (approaching the counter): Good afternoon.

Attendant: Welcome to British Airways. How may I assist you?

Allison: I need to purchase a first class ticket to London Heathrow.

TO BE CONTINUED…