The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 25: “Revolutionary Revelations”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Jeremy Dodd: sagacious, late 60’s, grey-haired, former president and founder of LA Outrunners, paternal figure to many members, last seen in Episode 5

Dr. Kian Shoai: handsome, Middle Eastern descent, late 30’s, dark features, professional behavior

PEYTON’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, EARLY MORNING

Drake stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and stretching, drawn to the room by the aroma of the food wafting throughout the house. Priscilla was at the stove, incongruously cooking in a well-tailored pantsuit, turning around with his entrance. He sat down in the chair, and she came over to him, maternally kissing his forehead and running her hands through his tousled hair.

Priscilla: Did you sleep well? (seeing him nod, sets juice on table before him) Did you call Austin? I don’t want him worried about you.

Drake: I called and left him a message. He knows I stayed the night here.

Priscilla: Thank you again for that.

Drake: I wasn’t going to leave you alone in that state.

Priscilla (setting plate of omelets before him): I just hope your hubby isn’t jealous you spent the night with a sexy mama.

Drake: Knowing Austin as I do, he’s probably working on his presidential campaign. So what are your plans for the day?

Priscilla: I’m meeting with the attorney for the reading of the will.

Drake (seeing her visibly shaken): Do you want me to come with you?

Priscilla: You don’t have to babysit me.

Drake: I just feel like I only added to your grief last night with what I told you.

Priscilla: I’m glad you told me all you knew about that awful man Callum Sutcliffe. I just can’t believe he was blackmailing Peyton, and to think I warmly accepted his condolences at the funeral.

Drake: Yeah, that was prior to his turning it into a three ring circus.

Priscilla: Allison could have used more restraint. I know that some lesbians got all inspired by Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby, but Allison went too far, channeling her inner boxer.

At the reference to sports, the little television on the kitchen counter ironically began airing a commercial for the Beijing Olympics. Both Drake and Priscilla stopped their conversation, obviously thinking of Bralen.

Drake: It’s such a shame that Bralen is not there.

Priscilla: I actually spoke with his mother yesterday. She had called to offer her condolences. She’s pretty upset over what’s happened to him. I just don’t know what went wrong. Has he said anything to you?

Drake: He doesn’t want to talk about it, and I respect that.

Priscilla (sighing): Too bad we can’t pin this on Callum Sutcliffe.

KYLE’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MORNING

Vertical Horizon’s “Best I Ever Had” plays as Kyle tosses in bed before the alarm clock goes off. He tried to ignore it, thinking that Heath will turn it off as he usually does. Realizing he’s not there, he sits up in bed and reaches over to Heath’s side to turn it off, running his hands through his hair. He picked up a portrait of the two of them, Heath giving a magnificent smile. Where did we go wrong? I miss you. I hope you know I love you no matter what. His mind went back to yesterday at the clinic. We may have a major hurdle before us, but we’ll get past it together. Heath’s going to need a lot of support. He touched the ring on his finger, the same one on Heath’s hand. He’s as much my lifetime partner as I’m ever going to get, and I’m not going to lose him to Tristan or some possible disease.

JEREMY DODD’S HOME, SANTA MONICA

Austin had checked the voicemail left by Drake. He was rather disturbed by what Bralen and Kyle had told him about the senior vote he needed to win the special election. He had completely forgotten the history of Los Angeles Outrunners and that Jeremy Dodd had founded the chapter three decades ago. Thinking it best to get to know this portion of the club, Austin began researching on Jeremy Dodd, finding an article on him in the online Outrunners newsletter archive. He learned that Jeremy was born in Austria, his family immigrating here in the wake of World War II, his older brother an unfortunate casualty of the Holocaust. Ever since he came into legal age, Jeremy had been a fierce social activist.

He called Jeremy to see if he was up for company at breakfast, and the old man accepted the offer. Austin had brought croissants, coffee, and other pastries over to the man’s home. To Austin’s surprise, Jeremy was delighted to see him in spite of the negative stuff Kyle and Bralen had led him to believe.

Jeremy: Austin, I must say I was surprised b y your call.

Austin: Well, I needed to see how our Outrunners’ founder was doing. I’ve only been a part of this chapter for a few months, and I—

Jeremy (finishing for him): —want to take it over.

Austin (taken aback): No, I just want to learn more about club history and involvement opportunities… and should that help with my campaign, that’ll be all the better.

Jeremy: I don’t know what to believe, Austin. I’ve heard some mixed remarks about you. However, if you really wish to be helpful, you can assist me with the opposition to Prop 8.

Austin: What’s that?

Jeremy: It’s the gay marriage ban here in California.

Austin: Well, what did you have in mind?

Jeremy: I would like to do a fundraiser. I’m sure there will be tons of money poured into this campaign from both sides, especially those on the far right.

Austin: I’m not so sure I should—

Jeremy: I’m aware that you’re a Republican, but the last time I checked, that’s not a sin although many of your party members think we are sinful.

Austin: Look, Jeremy, I’ve been called a walking contradiction, but I do believe in basic human rights. I shouldn’t be crucified because I support conservative politics. None of you crucify Callum for thinking this country should be run by Queen Elizabeth.

Jeremy: This is precisely why I detest politics. It’s a very touchy issue, especially among gays.

Austin: Anyway, back to the fundraiser—

Jeremy: Well, for many years I have been unsuccessful at convincing the LA Cinema Society to put on a queer cinema screening night at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery—you know during the summer they play classic Hollywood movies there. (noticing Austin’s expression) Yeah, I know it sounds strange, but that’s LA for you to play movies in a cemetery with all the audience camped out among the graves. I say all that because I would like to have an outdoor gay movie night as the fundraiser.

Austin (nearly laughing at the senile man): Th-That sounds great. So you really want to have it at that Hollywood cemetery? That might be an obstacle.

Jeremy: I want to have it near the beach here in Santa Monica. I was thinking on the Will Rogers Pier, which as you know is less crowded than the Santa Monica Pier and besides that, the S.S. Camaraderie, the once-premier gay club here on the coast, will be reopening soon. I’m good friends with the new owner, and I’m sure this would be a great tie-in.

Austin (sotto voce): Maybe the old bag of bones is onto something. (aloud) Have you thought about the movies you want to show?

Jeremy: I was thinking Brokeback Mountain.

Austin nearly vomited at the suggestion as if every gay person had to love that movie. He personally hated musicals, haute couture, and all the other things that supposedly comprised membership in the gay community. Jeremy must have caught Austin’s sour reaction.

Jeremy: Do you have a problem with that?

Austin (his cunning mind at work, not wanting to upset the man): No, it’s just that I think that card has been played one too many times for the cause of gay rights.

Justin: So what did you have in mind?

Austin (his razor-sharp mind taking him back to his morning research): Well, gays are humans, too, and this whole campaign is about human rights. I think Bent would be a better choice.

That should impress the old geezer… a Holocaust movie about gays that should appeal to both sides of his identity, and it’s an ill-fated love story like Brokeback Mountain but with more heart wrenching historical relevance.

Jeremy: Austin, I’m speechless. That’s an absolutely perfect choice!

Austin: You can thank my husband Drake. He has an entire movie collection devoted to Clive Owen, and it was the first film where he took notice to him. Besides, the film would really remind people of the struggles gays have gone through.

Jeremy (smiling): Austin, I’m really impressed. I would really like your assistance. I like how you’re able to think quickly on your toes. With your input, I’m sure this could be a success.

I’m in like Flynn with this guy. I’ll win him over along with the senior vote and soon I’ll have the presidency as well.

NATHAN AND BRENDON’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MORNING

Justin had opened his eyes and rose from the bed with great excitement as it was the start of a special day. He rushed to shower, get dressed, and was heading downstairs to the kitchen when he heard familiar voices. It was Kyle, Nathan, and Brendon. He tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Brendon: Kyle, what brings you by so early?

Kyle: I needed to ask you both about Vittoria Morelli.

Nathan: The woman who—

Kyle: Killed Peyton. Yes, that would be her. She’s responsible for his death, the attacks on Allison and Chloe, and now we know she attacked you two in Griffith Park.

Nathan: What!

Kyle: The attempted murder weapon—a crowbar in this case—was found in her apartment. It had not only her fingerprints on it, but samples of you guys’ blood were pulled from the weapon.

Nathan (flabbergasted): Oh my God! But why?

Kyle: That’s what the department wants to know. Do either of you know why she would want to intentionally harm you?

Brendon and Nathan (looking at each other): No.

Kyle: Well, I’ll let Milton know. It’s not officially my case, and he’d wring my neck if he knew I was interrogating you. (to Nathan) So how are things with you two? I’m glad you two are back together.

Brendon (ostensibly putting his hand on Nathan’s knee): It was a long time coming.

Kyle: What are you two going to do about Justin?

Brendon: He’s grounded and under house arrest. He’s got that ankle monitor on.

Kyle: What about military camp? Did you speak with my contact?

Brendon (smugly): He’s being shipped off next week.

At the reference to this late development, Justin rushed back to his room, making as much noise as humanly possible. It had been an awful start to his worst birthday ever!

RODRIGO’S APARTMENT, HOLLYWOOD, MORNING

Rodrigo was in his cramped, dingy Hollywood apartment with one of his goon friends, whom he had called to come over immediately.

Rodrigo: You fucked up! Just admit it.

Goon: No, Rodrigo, we didn’t. We did what you said. We roughed up that guy.

Rodrigo: Bullshit! I saw him in the bar the other night, and he looked fine to me.

Goon: Look, Dawg, we did what you said. It was the black-haired fool that came out that apartment.

Rodrigo: I’m telling you (interrupted by the ringing of his cell). Hello—Mr. Sutcliffe—uh—yes, I’ll be right there. (snapping the phone shut) Shit! I gotta go! We’ll talk about this later.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, MORNING

Callum: For the last bloody time, Talon, I’m not going back home just yet.

Talon: Why not? You promised me yesterday that we would go home once the case is closed. I have it on good authority that it’s about to be closed.

Callum: Why is it so important to you that we leave? I know you’re concerned about security, but I hired several guards for the estate.

Talon (advancing upon him): I just want to protect you. You should know how I cherish this body (kissing the nape of his neck and putting his lips to Callum’s ears) I want you so badly. The last time I had you—

Callum (pulling away): You nearly destroyed my marriage. I can’t do this to Gavin again.

Talon: He’s dead, Callum. I’m sure he wouldn’t care that you’re “moving on” with your life.

Callum: You never approved of us together. Why couldn’t you just be happy for us… for me?

Talon: Because I know you loved me when you were with him.

Callum: Why are we having this conversation? I love my husband and I’m remaining faithful to his memory. End of!

Talon: Why start now? Your marriage didn’t exactly start out on faithful terms. You were in bed with me the morning of the nuptials.

Callum (gesturing to raise his hand to slap): You—

Talon: Don’t go all Scarlet O’Hara on me. You do know she loved Rhett even though she claimed not to.

Callum: Talon, I need for you to understand—

Talon: And I need for you to understand to me (taking Callum’s hand and pulling toward his groin) and my needs. I have practiced so much reserve since I’ve been here. I need you, Callum.

Callum (feeling Talon’s hardness, his own breathing becoming shallow): T-Talon, please. I-I can’t—

Talon (pulling him closer): You know I love it when you beg.

Callum (pulling away): I can’t do this. I don’t want to tease you like this.

Talon (angrily throwing hands up): What is it? Why can’t we get back to the way things were?

Callum: I love Gavin.

Talon: You love me.

Callum: The fact of the matter is I shouldn’t have been with either of you. I come from a different background than the both of you.

Talon: You’ll have to explain that. I know that Gavin comes from real wealth. His late father—(speaking in an effectuated, haughty accent) the elder Lord Armitage was an MP and very nearly became PM. Could you have imagined him rather than Maggie running the government?

Callum: Need I remind you that I was in nappies when Maggie was running the government.

Talon: Oh, yes, you probably had just started walking during the Falklands fiasco. Sometimes I keep forgetting your age, which is yet another major difference between you and Gavin—nearly two decades to be exact.

Callum: My age was never a problem with him.

Talon: Except when it came down to cultural references. His generation was Olivia and Madonna. Ours is Kylie.

Callum: Well, he did have her perform at our wedding. That was quite the surprise outside of your visit.

Callum was spared the ardor of reliving that trying moment with Godfrey’s entrance into the room to announce that Rodrigo had arrived. Callum said to send him in. Talon looked at Callum with hungry eyes. Callum wanted to touch him, kiss him, feel the stubble of his facial hair… feel him in the worst—or rather best—way, feeling him inside him. The thought had excited Callum’s libido so much that he even felt the beginning of an erection in his pants. Fortunately, Rodrigo came into the room, and Talon soon took his leave.

Callum: Good morning, Rodrigo.

Rodrigo: I know what this is about, Mr. Sutcliffe. I’m really sorry about that last assignment. I’ll handle that guy.

Callum: Don’t worry about Tristano. I have something more pressing.

Rodrigo (eagerly): You finally want me to take care of that bitch! I saw what she did to you yesterday.

Callum: No, Rodrigo, it’s not about her. Allison will pay for what she’s done, but I’m getting her where it hurts the most. What I called you over for has to do with a really big story.

Rodrigo: What? I don’t understand.

Callum: You’re studying journalism, right? Well, I have something major (going over to his desk and withdrawing what looks like a book from one of the drawers) for you. (handing it to Rodrigo)

Rodrigo: What’s this?

Callum: Vittoria Morelli’s diary.

Rodrigo: The woman who tried to kill you?

Callum: She’s also responsible for the arson and attacks in Griffith Park.

Rodrigo: Really?

Callum: You’ll know why when you read what’s inside. This could very well be your big break, Rodrigo. What’s in that diary will—

Rodrigo (cutting him off): I can’t read all of it. This is written –

Callum: —in Italian. I had assumed since you were of Latin descent that you might be able to read it. Shame on me! Anyway, I suppose you’ll need the translations. (walking back to desk) There you go… all the evidence you need.

Rodrigo: Evidence?

Callum: Why, yes, silly! Don’t you know this is evidence that will also bring down one of my other attempted murderers?

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, MORNING

Estrella had put on the tightest outfit in her wardrobe—one which accentuated all the curves in her body. She applied her signature red lipstick and slipped her feet into the stiletto heels. She looked at herself in the mirror and nearly frowned. While she looked stunning, she felt queasy in her stomach. It was all the stress that Callum placed on her, forcing her to go after Chloe in her vulnerable state. I’m surprised the bastard didn’t want me to show up on her doorstep with his son just to freak her out. I can’t believe I’m doing this, even though a part of me really wants to. She put on her sunglasses. Her thoughts went back to the intimate moment shared between her and Chloe. Maybe it’ll happen again.

Half an hour later saw her on the doorstep of Allison and Chloe’s home. She fortunately had arrived in time to see Allison pull out the driveway and speed off in the direction of the hospital. The coast was clear. She stepped outside her car and walked across the street to the house and rang the doorbell.

Sophie B Hawkins’ “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover” begins playing as Chloe opens the door.

Chloe (thinking it was Allison): What did you forget this—time? Estrella! (taking in the sensuous spectacle before her) W-What?

Estrella: I came to see you. I-I couldn’t stay away. I needed to see you.

Chloe: I don’t understand.

Estrella: May I come in?

Chloe: I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Estrella: Are you worried that I may come onto you?

Chloe: N-No. I just don’t want Allison—

Estrella (brushing past her): Don’t worry about her.

Chloe: I have to. We’re sort of back together, and I don’t want to mess it up.

Estrella: Are you that insecure around me?

Chloe: Look, Estrella, you said it yourself. What we did was a terrible mistake.

Estrella (seductively approaching her): Was it really? It felt so right.

Chloe (backing away): I know, but it’s different now. I’m committed to Allison.

Estrella (sitting down on chair and crossing her sexy legs): Is she as committed to you? It seems she’s more concerned with violently attacking Callum Sutcliffe.

Chloe (her eyes greedily glued to Estrella’s legs): Sh-She’s getting help for that.

Estrella: You would tell me if she attempted something like that with you?

Chloe: Allison would never treat me like that.

Estrella (rising): And neither would I. You’re much too beautiful and special to be mistreated and neglected.

Chloe (backing away again): Listen, Estrella, I think you had better go now. I—(tripping over the loveseat and falling to the floor)

Estrella rushed over to her, Chloe seeing her gorgeous legs moving in unity toward her. At her low vantage point, Chloe could also see that she was not wearing any underwear. Chloe’s heart began racing and nearly burst from her ribcage when Estrella’s hand grasped hers and yanked her from the ground. The force was too sudden for Chloe to maintain her balance, and her weight fell against Estrella, knocking them both backwards onto the couch. Chloe was atop Estrella, looking into her brown eyes and the beauty of her angelic face, highlighted by her voluptuous ruby lips. It was when that mouth raised a few inches to touch hers that Chloe briefly gave into temptation. When she felt Estrella’s tongue, she tried to move away, but the woman had wrapped her arms around her to prevent her easy escape. Trying to resist the urge to grind her hips into those of the flaming siren, Chloe used both her hands to wrench herself free, a thin trail of saliva breaking to signify her victorious disentanglement.

Chloe (wiping her mouth): I would appreciate it if you would go. (firmer this time) I won’t repeat myself.

Estrella (rising from the couch): Okay, just know if you ever need me, I’m here for you. (going to the door and turning around) You know where I live.

At this dubious departure, both women had similar reactions. Closing the door, Chloe exhaled deeply, one hand put against her beating heart. Her body leaned against the door as she tried to recompose herself, content with her resolve to conquer temptation. On the other side of the door, Estrella likewise was trying to compose herself, suddenly feeling dizzy and weak in the knees. She rushed over to the bushes and unexpectedly threw up.

PEYTON’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, MIDMORNING

Priscilla had kissed Drake goodbye. They had just finished washing dishes together, and he wanted to get back home to Austin. He really is a doll. I hope everything works out between those two. Keeping secrets from each other is never the way to go in a relationship. She went to the bedroom where he had slept and was surprised to find he had made his bed, a smile immediately crossing her face. Now, that’s the type of boy I like, nice and orderly like my Peyton. No wonder he had a crush on him.

She glanced at her watch, gasped, and grabbed her purse as she was going to be late for her appointment with the attorney. When she opened the door, she was met with the beaming face of Jeremy Dodd, holding some flowers.

Priscilla (momentarily taken aback): Jeremy Dodd! I haven’t seen you in ages.

Jeremy: Well, I retired and am sadly much of a hermit now. Have I caught you at a bad time?

Priscilla (coming outside, closing the door behind her): Well, I was on my way to an important meeting.

Jeremy: I’ll make this quick. (handing her the flowers) I’m just so saddened to hear of your loss. I’ve been out of town these past few weeks and only learned of this tragedy from an email sent by Austin Monroe. You should know that your son was a very special part of our club.

Priscilla (moving onto the sidewalk): Thank you very much, Jeremy. If that’s all—

Jeremy: Well, actually, I wanted to ask you something.

Priscilla (diplomatically sighing): Yes, what is it?

Jeremy: I’m putting on a fundraiser for the opposition to Prop 8, and I wanted your permission to have it done in Peyton’s memory. It would be stated in all press coverage. Would you be okay with that?

Priscilla (tears coming to her eyes): That’s a thoughtful gesture, Jeremy. Of course, I’m fine with it.

Jeremy (hugging her and planting a kiss on her cheeks): It’s the least I can do. Anyway, I had better let you get to your appointment. (pats her shoulder and leaves)

Priscilla still felt the kiss on her cheeks, the immediate thought that sprang to her mind: He’s still handsome for someone his age. Too bad he’d still rather have a George Burns than a Sofia Loren double like me.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Tristan had stayed out late and came back home around three in the morning. Heath only knew this because his sleep was interrupted when he heard voices in the other room. Feeling very weak, Heath hadn’t the energy to get out the bed but stayed there, waiting for Tristan to enter the bedroom to at least check on him. Another half-hour passed before Heath fell back asleep. When he awakened in the morning, Tristan was not in bed beside him nor was he sleeping in Vittoria’s room. What he did find were some empty bottles of rum on the coffee table and a pair of men’s boxers, which Heath’s neurotic mind instantly knew were not Tristan’s. Oh no! It’s happened. He’s moved onto someone else.

He went into the kitchen to make himself a quick breakfast. Where is he? He’s never up and out this early unless it’s for a race. Maybe he went to the store to get something for breakfast. Ten more minutes passed before Heath called his cell, and it went to voicemail, prompting him to madly run his hands through his hair. He then saw Kyle’s ring still on his finger. Oh, Kyle, what have I done? Even after all the shit I put you through, you still want to be with me. He was about to call Kyle when there came a knock at the door. It was Bralen.

Heath: Good morning.

Bralen (urgently coming inside): I need to talk to you.

Heath: Is it Tristan?

Bralen: What?

Heath (overanxiously): Were you with him last night?

Bralen: No, I was at home thinking about something Austin told me.

Heath (calming down): What’s that?

Bralen: He told me something disturbing about the day we tended the beer booth during Pride Weekend.

Heath (moving into the kitchen alcove): Yeah? What was that?

Bralen: He said I looked a bit disoriented that day.

Heath (begins cutting and chopping fruit): You were pretty out of it. It was probably just the heat.

Bralen: You know what else he said? He found a syringe filled with steroids in our booth after you left.

Heath (nearly cutting his finger): What?

Bralen: Is there something you want to confess, Heath?

Heath: I-I don’t know what you’re hinting at, but I don’t do any drugs, least of all steroids.

Bralen (cattily looking at Heath’s body): I’ll give you that much.

Heath: Look, Bralen, why don’t you just go? I’m not really in the mood for company.

Bralen: Don’t you want to know how Austin found out it was steroids?

Heath: Not really. I don’t see how any of that matters.

Bralen: It matters because it fucking messed up my life, and I know damn well I’m innocent in all this.

Heath: Look, Br—

Bralen: Why’d you do it, Heath?

Heath: Excuse me?

Bralen: What if I told you that Austin—in his sick, twisted mind—had that syringe tested by a chemist who proved the substance in it matched that found in my bloodstream?

Heath: Y-You should be taking this up with Austin.

Bralen: And what if I told you that the chemist kept that syringe that had fingerprints on it? (noticing a look of fear come over Heath’s face) I’m sure Kyle will run a check on the prints for me. Austin’s prints, the chemist’s prints, or maybe someone else’s will show up.

Heath’s wall of reticence began crumbling and he walked out the kitchen alcove like a zombie, drained of life. He sat on the couch, assuming a familiar position, his head falling into his cupped hands. Bralen silently sat across from him, witnessing this display of inner turmoil, and when Heath looked up, Bralen saw the same pained face that Heath had shown after his vicious attack.

Heath (teary-eyed): I-I didn’t mean—

Bralen: Why’d you do it, Heath?

Heath: Please try to understand—

Bralen: You fucking drugged me. What’s there to understand?

Heath: I just wanted Tristan to not want you.

Bralen (shouting): Tristan! This was about Tristan?

Heath: You were a threat—

Bralen: What the hell are you on? Don’t you realize what you’ve done? You’ve ruined my life… my chance at Olympic victory.

Heath: Bralen, I’m so sorry.

Bralen (rising and confrontationally approaching him): Do you know how hard it is for me to see and hear all these Olympic advertisements and know that I can never participate ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!

Heath (backing away on the couch cushions): Bralen, I-I’m—

Bralen (raising his hand as if to strike him): If you say you’re sorry, I swear I’ll knock you into next month. You’re only sorry you got caught.

Heath (having crouched into the couch corner): Bralen, you didn’t deserve this.

Bralen: And to think I helped you last week when I should have left you there lying on the ground. I was such a fool to trust you… (pause) and so was Kyle. You’re no good, Heath, and as far as I’m concerned (moving in to level his face with that of Heath’s) you got exactly what you deserved.

Heath (tears flooding his eyes): Bralen, please—

Bralen: You injected me with that stuff, and only God knows what you may have inside you.

Heath (pushing him away): Get out now!

Bralen (rising from the couch): You and Tristan belong together. You only care about yourselves. It’s me and Kyle who were the fools.

Heath (imploringly coming over to him at the reference to Kyle): Please don’t tell Kyle.

Bralen: If you hadn’t been victimized last week, I would slug you one right now. You don’t deserve Kyle’s sympathy or anyone else’s.

Heath: Please, Bralen, I’m begging you.

Bralen looked him squarely in the face and then moved to the door. Upon his leaving, Heath fell back to the couch, crying himself into frenzy. He wanted to be swallowed up into nothingness. There came a knock at the door soon. He rushed to answer it, finding a Hispanic male whose facial expression was one of total confusion upon seeing Heath. He quickly claimed he had gone to the wrong apartment. Heath went back to crying, and Rodrigo went away, knowing that his goons had done their job in roughing up the black-haired guy from that apartment, except there were now two black-haired guys and they had attacked the wrong guy.

NATHAN AND BRENDON’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EARLY EVENING

Nathan came into the kitchen, carrying grocery bags which he put on the counter. He kissed Brendon, who put down the phone and directed his full attention to his partner.

Brendon: You’re home early. I was just about to leave for the market.

Nathan: Well, I beat you to it. Besides, I—uh—got him something (gesturing to bags).

Brendon (pulling out cake from bags): How thoughtful of you, especially after all he’s put you through.

Nathan (wrapping his arms around Brendon): Correction, it’s all the stuff he’s put us through. We’re in this together, remember?

Brendon: Well, it was my decision to send him away against your wishes. I still can’t believe you want him to stay. You’re really too good a man, Nathaniel Moynihan.

Meanwhile, My Chemical Romance’s “Teenagers” plays upstairs as Justin successfully wrenches the window open. He threw his backpack onto the roof and climbed out onto it. He was only on the second story, and it looked like a safe jump to the ground, but then he saw the trellis and began stealthily climbing down it. There’s no way I’m being sent off. Upon reaching the ground, he took for the street. The exact second his foot touched the street pavement, Justin heard the sound of the alarm of his ankle brace going off. At that moment, he broke into the greatest spring of which his body was capable. He continued at this pace for several yards, driven by his urge to get as far away form his guardians.

He was sure they would soon be notified by the police of his leaving the property. As he passed Callum’s palatial home, he thought of stealing onto that property, but it appeared he had upped the security. He would call him once he found shelter elsewhere. Sweat continued to break out on his back and face as he continued on his mission. Some birthday this has turned out to be.

DOCTOR KIAN SHOAI’S OFFICE, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, EVENING

Dr. Kian Shoai had just finished his last appointment and was taking notes. There came a knock at his door, and as his secretary had already left for the day, he had to get up to answer it. The person on the other side was his good colleague, Dr. Allison Trudeau. She was happy to see his bright, beaming face as he welcomed her into his office. Taking a seat across from him, she twiddled her thumbs as he finished stacking his papers and putting them away.

Allison: Have I come at a bad time?

Dr. Shoai: No, not all. I was finishing some paperwork. (pause) There, I’m done. Now you called me yesterday, urgently needing to see me. What seems to be the problem?

Allison (sighing): Where do I begin?

Dr. Shoai: I know you’ve been through much… Chloe’s miscarriage, your injury, and now Peyton’s death. It really hit us all hard.

Allison (raking her hands through her hair): I miss him so much. He was such a great professional… and had so much going for him.

Dr. Shoai: I hope his memorial service gave you some closure.

Allison: Actually, it didn’t. It’s only made things worse.

Dr. Shoai: How’s that?

Allison: Everything in here is confidential, right? (getting the nod from Dr. Shoai) I ended up attacking someone at the funeral.

Dr. Shoai: What?

Allison: it was the man responsible for Peyton’s death and Chloe’s miscarriage. (her hands tightening on the handles of the chair) He’s caused nothing but trouble since he’s—

Dr. Shoai: Excuse me, Allison, but you physically assaulted this man?

Allison: Callum Sutcliffe.

Dr. Shoai: The famous writer?

Allison: Yes, that would be the one.

Dr. Shoai: You say that he’s the origin of your misfortunes.

Allison: Kian, he has tried everything to harm those important to me.

She began cataloguing all the trials she had experienced courtesy of her vendetta against Callum from the moment she first met him in the hospital. She spared no gory detail and told him of all she had done to protect everyone dear to her and to get him out all their lives, including her trip to Britain and her pact with Talon Prescott. She referenced how Chloe’s accident left her mentally and emotionally vulnerable. This whole tale lasted half an hour, leaving Dr. Kian Shoai practically enthralled by the story. When she finished, Allison asked for water, and he rose to get her some.

Dr. Shoai (pouring water into cup): That’s an incredible story, Allison. You’ve really sacrificed much in your battle against Mr. Sutcliffe. Do you feel it worth your relationship with Chloe?

Allison: Kian, I just can’t walk away from this. He’s on a mission.

Dr. Shoai (handing her the cup and sitting down): From all you’ve told me, it seems he’s not on a mission to personally terrorize you.

Allison: I beg your pardon. He’s done everything in his power to—

Dr. Shoai: Break up Nathan’s relationship, not yours, right? It seems you’re just an obstacle in his way. What if you were to take yourself out of the—

Allison (indignantly rising): No! Not a chance in hell! I thought you were supposed to be helping me, Kian.

Dr. Shoai: Calm down, Allison. I am trying to help you. Now you told me that Chloe is concerned that your vendetta against Mr. Sutcliffe is not about the security of your relationship but rather your avid protection of Nathan Moynihan.

Allison: This is not about Nathan!

Dr. Shoai: I think it may be about him. You told me that this vendetta began when you caught Mr. Sutcliffe inappropriately kissing Mr. Moynihan in the hospital and then it has since escalated into physical altercations—

Allison (defensively putting out hands): Kian, I don’t need you to repeat everything I’ve told you. I know what happened.

Dr. Shoai (taking a deep breath): Allison, I’m going to ask you something very important, and it’s essential that you’re really honest with me.

Allison (biting her lip): Okay.

Dr. Shoai: What exactly are your feelings for Nathan Moynihan?

Allison: I told you we’re best friends and have been so for over thirty years.

Dr. Shoai: That’s not what I meant. How do you feel about him?

Allison: I feel for him like any friend would. I only want him to be safe and happy.

Dr. Shoai: So it’s purely platonic?

At that moment, Allison’s mind flashed back to the image of giving Nathan mouth to mouth resuscitation, her lips planted against his, breathing life back into him. And then she recalled last night when she had seen Nathan’s face as he and Chloe made love. Apparently, these thoughts had taken hold of her for a considerable period, for Dr. Shoai had to snap his fingers to awaken her from the trance into which she had fallen.

Dr. Shoai: Allison? Are you still with me?

Allison: I—uh—I’m sorry. W-What were you saying?

Dr. Shoai: I had asked you about your feelings for—(pauses as he sees Allison reach for tissues on the table beside her as her face contorts into one of pressing emotion). Are you all right?

Allison: Kian, I don’t know how to say this, but I think I’m falling in love with Nathan.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EVENING

Callum finished his early dinner alone. Talon had called to say he would be home late as he and some coworkers were attending some charity function in downtown Los Angeles. He had just finished his last bite of pheasant when Godfrey entered to announce that Priscilla Ashland had come to visit and was in the reception area. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he rose and went to meet the woman.

Callum: Good evening, Mrs. Ashland. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?

Priscilla: I have a bone to pick with you!

Callum (taken aback): I beg your pardon.

Priscilla: You should be begging for my forgiveness for everything you did to my son.

Callum: What?

Priscilla: I know all about your blackmailing.

Callum: I see you’ve spoken with Allison, Drake, or any number of Outrunners who hold personal grudges against me. I can guarantee you, Mrs. Ashland, that whatever they told you is simply a fabrication.

Priscilla: Don’t insult my intellect, Mr. Sutcliffe. I know there was something going on between you and Peyton.

Callum: If you must know, he and I—well, you know--- (pause)

Priscilla: You fucked him!

Callum: Actually, it was the other way around. (going red in the face) Now, Mrs. Ashland, if that’s all (trying to guide her to the door)

Priscilla: Take your hands off me or I’ll scream bloody murder!

Callum (reactively putting distance between himself and her): What the hell is wrong with you?

Priscilla: You! That’s what wrong! You took my son away from me, and now you want to take everything else away from me.

Callum: What the hell are you blathering about? I’m not trying to take anything away from you.

Priscilla: Then would you care to explain why my Peyton left everything in his will to your son?

TO BE CONTINUED…