The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 26: “It’s A Family Affair”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Enid: youthful splendor, 17, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, rebellious nature

T.A.T.U.’s “All the Things She Said” opens this episode over the following montages affecting four characters:

Chloe sits on the couch, her legs pulled close to her chest so that her chin rests easily on her knees. Her eyes are red from crying and her mind is beset with the most exciting part of her day: Estrella’s visit, which has subsequently left her feeling empty and angry with herself for reasons she could not fully understand. While I truly love Allison, there are times when our intimacy seems forced, such as last night, but with Estrella, it’s entirely different like she’s on a mission to totally satisfy me. Chloe’s libido and mind are both aroused by the promises Estrella had made to her. It was nearing evening, Allison had not returned home, and a cloak of vulnerability had been thrown over her. She had rung Allison’s cell several times over the course of an hour, at which point her resolve waned and she dials a different number: the one belonging to Estrella.

After her shocking confession, Allison rushes to Dr. Shoai’s office bathroom, locking herself inside the little compartment and begins crying. She turns on the sink and splashes cold water on her face, running her hand through her hair as she takes a deep breath. The force of the confession had rendered her powerless. Her mind keeps replaying Chloe’s words to her—the admonishment to leave Nathan to fight his own battles. What’s with your protective obsession of Nathan? She was right to worry about me. I can’t believe I told him that. What the hell was I thinking, saying such a thing? At least he cannot betray my confidence. The last thing I want to do is unintentionally hurt Chloe. She means so much to me. At that point, her phone rings, and seeing the caller’s identity as Chloe she refuses to answer it. I’m sorry to do this to you, but I just can’t talk to you right now. Don’t worry, Chloe, Kian will help me get over this. She soon hears him knocking on the door to check on her. Realizing she must face this demon, she opens the door and goes out the bathroom to meet with Dr. Shoai.

Estrella takes a sip of cold water and runs her hands through her raven-hair as it spills back over her shoulders. She sits back against the couch cushions in her home, her work—a score of legal documents—spread before her on the coffee table. She had just returned from the police station, helping one of her clients with the nagging authorities. She had decided to work from home, looking weary-eyed and feeling listless, the stress of Callum’s demands weighing upon her. She thinks back to her sweet, brief moment earlier that day when she had nearly won over Chloe, but then Estrella’s mind kept hearing the woman’s defiant responses that she loved Allison. It had been delivered with such conviction that even if the message was counteractive to Chloe’s real intentions, it was the fact that this woman was willing to love with all her heart. I admire that. I only wish I could have someone to love… someone who would love me unconditionally. Her inner monologue is broken by the ringing of her phone, and she’s surprised to see that it’s Chloe. Immediately answering it, she detects that the woman is crying and talks to calm her down, managing to accomplish this goal after fifteen minutes. Once the phone call ends, Estrella has a satisfactory grin on her face and a victorious gleam in her eyes. Prior to snapping the phone shut, she looks at her calendar and shrieks, realizing that she was about to miss an important appointment. In her rush, she failed to see she had already missed an even bigger one.

DR. KIAN SHOAI’S OFFICE, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL

Allison (sitting down): I’m so sorry about that, Kian. I don’t know what came over me.

Dr. Shoai: No worries, Allison. You experienced an emotional breakthrough.

Allison (incredulously): During the first session?

Dr. Shoai: I suspect it’s been slowly building to this.

Allison: I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.

Dr. Shoai (interlacing his fingers): Did you mean it? The confession.

Allison (head bent to her chest, inhaling deeply): I guess there’s some truth to it, but I love Chloe. I know I do!

Dr. Shoai: You said you’ve known Nathan for over thirty years.

Allison (taking a tissue and wiping her nose): That’s true. We both grew up together in Long Island. We were friends all throughout high school. (sniffling) He even was my senior prom date.

Dr. Shoai: Were you two ever romantically…?

Allison (pause): He was the only man I ever slept with, but it was just that one time ages ago in the 70’s, before we realized we were both gay (rising) or at least one us was! Jesus! I can’t believe this.

Dr. Shoai (rising to level his face with Allison’s): Allison, you have nothing to be ashamed of.

Allison: I’m supposed to be a gay woman and here I am confessing feelings for a man.

Dr. Shoai (sitting down as Allison does the same): Allison, sexuality is not exactly a black and white affair. It really is rather fluid, which is why some individuals identify themselves as bisexual.

Allison: Kian, I’m totally committed to Chloe. I would never—(pausing as she wipes tears from her eyes) I thought I had this under control. What should I do?

Dr. Shoai: What is it that you want to do?

Allison: I-I (inhaling deeply) I need to go. (rising)

Dr. Shoai: Allison?

Allison: Please keep this between us.

Dr. Shoai: Would you like to continue this another time?

She nodded her head, a sense of sudden claustrophobia gripping her. She bolted for the door and rushed out it.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES

Callum (turning away from Priscilla): I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Priscilla (grabbing his arm and twisting him around to face her): You had better explain this. Why did he do this?

Callum: I don’t know. Perhaps he was just feeling generous.

Priscilla: Well, I’ll have you know that I’m contesting this will. There’s no way your son is getting one red cent of my son’s money.

Callum: In case you haven’t noticed, Mrs. Ashland, I reside in a mansion. I don’t need your son’s money. And please don’t ever say the words “will” and “contest” in my presence again. I’ve heard them enough to span the rest of my life.

Priscilla: This was all part of your scheme to blackmail my son. You hated him that much!

Callum: Who’s filling your head with this rubbish? I didn’t hate him… quite the opposite is true. He saved my life, and a part of me will always love your son.

Priscilla: And I can guess which part that is!

Callum: Mrs. Ashland! A lady shouldn’t speak that way. I don’t know what to think—

Priscilla (approaching him): And I don’t know what to think of you. You were the last person my son was with when he took his last breath. I-I should have been there. (breaking down into tears)

Callum: Mrs. Ashland, I know you’re grieving, but lashing out at me won’t—

Priscilla: What were his last words?

Callum: Pardon?

Priscilla: Did he say anything?

Callum (tears coming to his eyes): Uh—no—he couldn’t really speak. The blood was in the way. (sitting down in chair to weep)

Priscilla: So you do have a heart?

Callum: I think you had better leave.

Priscilla: I’m not through with you.

At that moment, Godfrey entered to announce that Tristan was outside. Suddenly, Tristan enters the room, not waiting for permission. Tristan was dressed in a three-piece suit, looking as if he just walked off Wall Street. Callum instantly recognized the designer of his outfit as Armani.

Priscilla (moving over to Tristan): Tristan, my word! You look absolutely yummy. Is it possible you’ve gotten bigger?

Tristan (cockily): It’s all muscle. (allowing the woman to kiss his cheek) Priscilla, what are you doing here? (now feeling the woman’s hand run down his side and grasping his firm ass)

Callum: Mrs. Ashland was just about to leave.

Priscilla: The hell I am! Not until I get some answers.

Tristan: What’s wrong?

Priscilla: Somehow Callum conned Peyton into leaving his son all his money.

Tristan (looking at Callum with a devious grin): Is that so? And Peyton left you nothing?

Priscilla: Just the house in Newport Beach. Everything else went to Edward Armitage!

Tristan (eyeing Callum): So, Priscilla, what are you going to do about it?

Callum (to Priscilla): I have an idea. Why don’t you go into the solarium and have a drink? We can talk about this later. I need to privately see Tristano.

Priscilla: Drink?

Callum (rushing out and returning with Godfrey): Godfrey, would you escort Mrs. Ashland to the solarium and get her the beverage of her choice. You can enjoy it while watching the sunset.

Tristan (once Priscilla and Godfrey had left): Good! You discovered her weakness.

Callum: Yes, hers is alcohol. Yours is sex.

Tristan: That’s not my weakness. It’s definitely one of my strengths!

Callum: Speaking of which, you must be headed for an appointment. Those are some nice threads you have on, and the only time you’re out of a muscle shirt is when you’re “working.” It’s either that or you’re going to some memorial service for Vittoria.

Tristan (aggressively confronting him): Don’t you ever say her name again? Do you know where I’ve been all day? I was at the fucking police station. That Detective Milton was grilling me about that damn crowbar you planted in Vittoria’s closet.

Callum: What reason have they to interrogate you?

Tristan: Because they managed to pull a partial fingerprint from it that matched mine, and now they think I’m part of the attacks on Nathan and Brendon in the park.

Callum: But you were!

Tristan (gritting teeth): You tried to take me down, but I got a way out.

Callum: What a pity! And here I was hoping you would teach the California inmates the pleasures of homosexuality, although I’m sure they’ve been tutored in the art.

Tristan: Yeah, well, now you’re going down. All I have to do is go to the press with what I got on your “son.” I’m sure Priscilla would be interested in hearing it. (gestures to exit the room in the direction of the solarium)

Callum: Wait!

Tristan (turning around): I knew you would see things my way.

Callum: The only thing I see is a lowlife in expensive clothing. What exactly is it that you want?

Tristan: One million would be a good start.

Callum: Anything else?

Tristan (grinning): Oh, so you’re willing to give more. Let me think on it.

Callum: Well, the money should suffice. After all, that’s a large enough sum for you to permanently disappear.

Tristan (laughing): Who said anything about disappearing?

Callum: Oh, well, I just assumed you wouldn’t want to be in town when Mickey Giordano comes for a visit. (seeing Tristan’s expression drastically change) I wish you could see the expression on your face. Now that’s worth a million dollars!

Tristan: H-How—

Callum: it’s amazing how much help Vittoria gives me from the grave. That little diary of hers really came in handy. Now you breathe one word of Edward’s paternity to either Priscilla or the press, and I’ll personally see to it Mr. Giordano gets a call from me with your location. Somehow I think he’d rather see you pumped full of bullets instead of prison cock. (winking) I think you know the way to the door.

Tristan: You won’t get away with this.

Callum: I just did. (seeing Tristan turn to leave) Oh, and don’t forget I get a percentage of your earnings this evening. (hears the door slamming in the distance and smiles to himself at his victory)

Moments later, he’s buzzed by the security guard, informing him that an elderly man by the name of Jeremy Dodd has come to visit him. Callum reluctantly gave the orders to permit him, and opening the door tried to force a smile as he was rather tired and desired nothing more than to lie down after having expended much energy during his talk with Tristan.

Callum: Jeremy, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?

Jeremy (coming inside): I mainly wanted to check on you. I heard you were involved in the tragedy.

Callum: In which sense?

Jeremy (confused): Pardon me?

Callum: My involvement (still sensing confusion on the man’s face) depends on with whom you’ve spoken. There are many different stories out there when the fact of the matter is that Peyton died in my arms. Allison and the others place an entirely different spin on the events.

Jeremy: Really?

Callum: They flat out think I killed him.

Jeremy (sincerely): That’s awful. You’re such a nice young man.

Callum: Thank you for your choice of words. You’re clearly in the minority. (awkward pause) Is there anything else you wanted?

Jeremy: Well, there is. I’m putting on a fundraiser against Proposition 8.

Callum: What’s that?

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

Callum: What a pity you reside in a country that discriminates against you. This is precisely why America should have remained under British rule. Hell, even Canada—which most Americans don’t even consider a real country—treats gay with more rights. It’s legal for gays to marry there, although I married my husband in Belgium.

Jeremy: I didn’t know that.

Callum: Most countries with monarchs treat gays with respect: the UK, Spain, Belgium, Holland, and well, Canada—whilst not being under monarchical rule still uses currency with Her Majesty’s face on it.

Jeremy (growing weary of Callum’s diatribe): I’m well aware of that.

Callum: Of course you are. You’re decades older than me. You’ve lived through it all. Now where do I come in?

Jeremy: Austin and I are planning on a movie night to highlight the human injustices done to gays. We chose the film Bent. I assume you’ve seen it. One of the most prominent English actors in it—besides the lead Clive Owen—is the astounding Ian McKellen.

Callum: I’m well aware of Sir Ian, although your common American audience may only know him as Gandolf in Lord of the Rings. I still don’t see where I come in.

Jeremy: We were hoping to possibly have him speak at the event. Rather than going through his agent, I was hoping you may have a personal connection to him.

Callum: Why? Because we’re both gay? (sighing) I’ll see what I can do. He’s an advocate for gay rights, and I may see him at Mardi Gras.

Jeremy: Pardon? Callum, that’s already passed.

Callum: No, it hasn’t. It’s the Gay Pride festival held in Manchester next week. I attend annually, and Sir Ian may be there. If I see him, I’ll work my magic and let you know what happens.

Jeremy (smiling): Thanks, Callum. I really appreciate any help you can give. This would definitely add a taste of class to the event.

Callum: I doubt his presence could accomplish such a daring feat with the likes of Allison, Austin, and Drake in the audience.

Jeremy: That’s not a nice thing to say.

Callum: Neither was it a nice thing for Allison to throw me into Peyton’s grave!

Jeremy: While her behavior is unacceptable, she’s very protective of those she loves.

Callum: The way she struck me one would think she loved Peyton more than she does Nathan.

Jeremy: I’ve known Allison a long time, and she genuinely loves Nathan. She only wants him to be happy, and as he’s happy with Brendon, she wants it to stay that way. (looking him directly in the eyes) And so do I!

Callum (spitefully): Is the request all you needed of me? (sotto voce) Besides a serving of prune juice.

Jeremy: That’s all. (turning to go) You have a nice—

Callum (slamming the door behind him, cutting him off): The gall of that man! Blatantly asking for charity and then subtly insulting me like that!

Callum was so exhausted after this that he went to bed afterwards, his mind distraught over having been confronted by two senior citizens in such a short period of time.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, EVENING

The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8CDERzun4k) plays as Heath silently sits on the couch, crying at the wreck he’s made of his life and also for ruining Kyle’s and Brendon’s in the process. He knew that Tristan would soon be out of his life. After Bralen had left, he had cried a while until that strange guy came to the door. I must have scared him shitless with the way I looked. Thank goodness Tristan showed up later, but he barely said a word to me. He seemed on a mission, going straight to his room and coming out with a business suit on clothing hangers.

Heath (wiping his eyes): Going somewhere?

Tristan: Yeah, I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.

Heath (hesitantly): D-Did you come home last night?

Tristan: Yeah, why?

Heath: You didn’t come to bed.

Tristan: I’m sleeping in Vittoria’s room now.

Heath: W-What?

Tristan: Look, Babe, I don’t have time for this. I have to go soon. (goes into the bathroom to shower)

Tristan didn’t talk much when he came out the bathroom, quickly putting on his clothing and immediately leaving the apartment. Heath broke down once more, taking the nearest fragile objects and throwing them against the wall. He saw a large piece of broken glass and picked it up. It would be enough to cut my wrists. This thought scared him. He dropped the glass and rushed for the phone where he dialed Kyle’s number but got no answer. He called several more times over the course of half an hour before giving up and screaming at the top of his lungs. He fell to the floor, his knees coming into contact with the broken glass, but the pain was no match for that which he felt in his heart.

KYLE’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, EVENING

Kyle had just got home from a crazy day of work and had simply wanted to relax. There was a knock at the door. He rose to open it, finding Bralen about to knock again.

Kyle: Bralen, what’s up?

Bralen: May I come in?

Kyle (moving aside for him to enter): What brings you here?

Bralen: There’s something I need to tell you.

Kyle (urgently): It’s not Heath, is it?

Bralen (coming face to face with him): In a way it is. (seeing the urgency in his face) It’s nothing to get worried over. It’s just that I know how you feel about him, and I don’t want to see you hurt by him.

Kyle: What do you mean?

Bralen: Kyle, you know Heath loves Tristan.

Kyle (unconvincingly): Y-Yeah, I know. So what are you trying to say?

Bralen (looking into his eyes): I think you should let him go and move on.

Kyle: What? (suddenly feeling Bralen’s mouth press upon his for a few seconds before pulling away): What the hell are you doing?

Bralen: Don’t fight it.

He forced himself on Kyle once more, his mouth and tongue working to overcome Kyle’s reserve. Bralen’s hands pulled off Kyle’s shirt, and it was in that moment, that he felt Kyle return the carnal gesture, feeling Kyle’s tongue and hands work in unison as he kissed and pushed Bralen to the couch. They fell onto it, Kyle on his back. Bralen pulled off his shirt to reveal his muscular chest and went back to kissing before feeling Kyle’s head move so that his mouth could suck on Bralen’s nipple. It was at that moment the sound of Kyle’s cell phone could be heard ringing. From his perspective, Bralen could see the phone on the coffee table, clearly reading the name of Heath as the caller, and saw Kyle’s hand reach forth to pick it up. Bralen stopped his hand, grasping it and seductively putting Kyle’s fingers into his mouth, licking on them.

Bralen: Don’t answer it.

Kyle (pulling his hand from Bralen’s mouth and rising from his prostrate position): Bralen, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m sorry for getting carried away like this.

Bralen (pushing him back down): I’m not finished with you yet.

His mouth went to Kyle’s neck, searching feverishly for a pleasure spot, and he knew he had found it when he felt Kyle’s hands touching the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. He continued his kissing and licking spree as his hands reached for Kyle’s belt and began pulling it off. Kyle then felt the force of his pants being yanked down to his ankles, Bralen not bothering to take off his shoes. Kyle felt Bralen’s hand massaging the ever-growing lump in his boxers when the phone began ringing again. Turning around, Bralen saw it was Heath calling again. He prevented Kyle from answering it, seizing the phone and throwing it on the carpet several feet away.

Bralen: No more interruptions.

Kyle: Bralen, we should really stop---ohhh---(feeling Bralen’s mouth)

The sensation rendered Kyle practically helpless as Bralen continued his expertise, his mouth at last tasting on Kyle’s erect cock. The phone rang two more times, but Kyle hadn’t heard it, captured in the thrall of Bralen’s moving head as his mouth dexterously worked to give a phenomenal blowjob. Kyle placed his hand on Bralen’s head to gently push down on it when he saw the ring on his hand, instantly thinking of Heath and his commitment to him. He fought back his burning desire to orgasm and pushed Bralen away, feeling the warmth of his saliva as it spilled onto his pubes.

Kyle: Bralen, no, I can’t do this!

Bralen (wiping his mouth): Why not? Come on, Kyle, let’s just have some fun.

Kyle: I said no! (rising from the couch and pulling up the slacks and hearing the cell phone ring yet again) It never should have gone this far.

Bralen (reaching for his arm to prevent him getting to the phone): Come on, Kyle.

Kyle: I think you should go. (picking up phone as it gives its last ring) Oh my God!

Bralen: What is it?

Kyle: It’s Heath! He’s been calling for like the last half hour… 10 times already. I’ve got to go. (rushes to the door) I’ll lock it. Just close it when you leave.

Bralen’s only reaction was a mixed expression of defeat and anger.

ESTRELLA’s HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, EVENING

Estrella opened the door to the attractive presence of Tristan Bersani on her doorstep, looking as if he had stepped off the pages of GQ Magazine. After dealing with Chloe on the phone and seeing her appointment calendar, she found she was supposed to represent her firm at a charity function in downtown Los Angeles later that evening. She didn’t really want to go, but she remembered how earlier that day she had got a call from Tristan, begging her to come to the station as he had been brought in for questioning and needed good legal representation. She couldn’t turn him down, went to the station, worked her magic, and had him out in no time. Of course that favor came with a price, and he agreed to be her date at the function. We’re going to be the hottest couple there. Damn, he’s one hot guy!

Estrella: Come in. We’ll leave in a few.

Tristan (closing the door behind him): Thanks again for today.

Estrella (applying lipstick): No problem. Your fingerprints could have been on that crowbar long before Vittoria used it to attack Nathan and Brendon. Don’t you worry. I’ll get you off—(winking at him) scot free!

Tristan (laughing): You’re too much!

Estrella (coming onto him, planting a kiss on his cheeks): You got to admit. We make a great team. Anyway, I think we had better get going. I’m feeling lightheaded, and I know these shindigs have the best hors d’oeuvres that always calm my appetite—(winking at him) for food.

As she was not feeling that well to drive, Tristan got behind the wheel, and owing to bad traffic, the ride took nearly three-quarters of an hour, and during that time he felt Estrella’s hand journey from resting on his knee to going near his groin. She may not be feeling well, but she sure as hell has enough energy to be doing this dangerous shit. He had to push her hand away several times to concentrate on the road otherwise risk an accident. They finally made it to the Transamerica Building and went to the top floor, having a breathtaking panoramic view of Los Angeles, seeing the mountains, freeways, the Hollywood Sign, and the ocean in the farthest distance. Tristan was dragged around like some trophy, and they both witnessed the jealous expressions of many women. They both want my man and my waist size. It’s just like the good old days. Tristan seems to be enjoying himself as well.

He left to the go the bathroom, and she went to the bar to order a cranberry seltzer. She stood there for a few minutes, and when she looked up, she gasped, seeing Tristan talking to a couple, another woman’s hand slyly moving over his body. She rushed over to prevent that tart—who was later introduced to her as Pamela Smith—from intruding on her turf.

Estrella: Tristan! Where have you been? I turned around, and you were gone.

It was at that point a handsome man came to Tristan’s defense, claiming that he had held him up in the bathroom with a conversation. They had both been in separate stalls, and he had overheard Tristan talking on his cell phone in Italian, and the man being fluent in the language himself uncharacteristically started a conversation with him through the bath stalls. It was only when they both came out the stalls that they recognized each other, Tristan recalling the man from an unsavory episode in the Hollywood Hills. The man warmly introduced himself to Estrella.

Talon (kissing her hand): My name is Talon Prescott. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Signora Tartaro.

Estrella (blushing): Thank you, Mr. Prescott. So you were saying you already knew Tristan?

Talon: Not exactly. He came over Callum Sutcliffe’s home on the day of the incident where he had lost his close friend, Signorina Morelli.

Estrella: So you’re a friend of Callum’s?

Talon: That’s one way of phrasing it. We’re close friends.

Estrella (exclamatorily): Oh! I see. (sotto voce): Am I like some fag magnet? (aloud) So you and Tristan were bonding over this tragedy?

Talon: Actually, you caught the three of us talking about some archaeological sites near Tristan’s hometown. He was telling Pamela and me about some of the ruins.

Estrella: Really? I hadn’t pegged him as being of service to academics.

Estrella held onto Tristan’s arm, watching as Pamela eyes feasted hungrily on Tristan, negligent that he was her date. She soon found the conversation dull and tried to tug Tristan to move away, but it was Talon who held his attention. She signaled for some mineral water and slowly slipped it as they continued their gabfest. At last she took a seat and then felt a weird sensation overtake her.

Tristan (coming to her): Are you all right?

Estrella: Oh, you can tear yourself away from them. (putting her hand to her head) I’m not feeling well. Damn migraines! Are you ready to go?

Tristan (hesitantly): Well, I was—uh—

Estrella: Never mind. You drive the car back to my place. I’m going to take a cab. (rising and kissing him) Hurry home.

She soon left for the elevator, seeing Tristan go back to talking with Talon Prescott. She saw no sign of Pamela Smith. I guess that bitch finally got the hint. Oh, Tristan, I see you’re flirting with that Talon guy, and I’m flirting with Chloe. Knowing both their partners, I’d say we’re both flirting with disaster.

DRAKE AND AUSTIN’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Austin had the most exhausting day. After his morning visit with Jeremy Dodd, he rushed into work at his modeling agency and closed a major deal. He got a call from Drake, who said he was back at home and would most likely be there for the rest of the day. At lunchtime, Austin met with Michael Kirkland, one of his models who happened to be an Outrunner who had despised the club leadership long before Austin had moved to Los Angeles. According to Mike, he wanted the group to recruit younger members and suggested to the Board that they change the locations of their training runs to trendier locations such as Echo Park and Venice. The Board shot down Mike’s suggestions, but Austin saw this as an opportunity to appeal to the younger crowd and got all of them to sign a petition for at least a trial run in these locations. He was planning on bringing this to the Board’s attention at their next meeting, mainly to show his influential support of the younger members along with the recent development of his relationship with Jeremy Dodd to show his growing support of the elder constituency—both of which would assure him victory.

He made it home around seven, finding Drake with dinner on the table. He came over and kissed the crown of his head.

Austin: How was your day?

Drake: I cleaned up the place. Gosh, I’m gone for one night, and you’ve got the bedroom in shambles.

Austin: I couldn’t find my favorite shirt or my blazer.

Drake: So you tore apart the closet looking for it? (sighing) How many times must I tell you that the shirts are in the drawer to the left—

Austin: Okay! Okay! I know… I found what I was looking for.

Drake: But you didn’t put stuff back where you found it.

Austin (kissing him): Chill out, Babe! You must be horny. You always are when you’re upset like this.

Drake (kissing him and rising from the table): I did miss you last night.

Austin (unbuttoning Drake’s shirt): You can make up for it now. (the shirt falls to the floor as he guides Drake into the bedroom)

Drake: I love you, Austin.

Austin (pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him): I know, Babe. (kissing him)

Drake: You want me to call you Mr. President?

Austin (smiling and laughing to himself): It’s only a matter of time before that’s a reality.

Once Austin rolled over onto his back, he then felt Drake’s hand work to unzip his slacks, pulling them down his legs. Split seconds later, Drake had his mouth on Austin’s boxers, the heat of his breath a sensational feeling to Austin’s groin. He felt the tip of Drake’s tongue roving over the fabric of his boxers and then the full impression of his mouth clamping over his awakening bulge. It was as if Drake were trying to suck him off through the boxers. He lifted his bottom from the bed so that Drake could fully liberate his cock from the boxers, nearly ripping them off.

Austin (upon feeling Drake’s voracious mouth): You’re really hungry!

His mouth slavered over the fleshy knob and thick shaft prior to his hands feverishly working to jerk him as his mouth sucked on the balls. Austin placed his right hand behind Drake’s head, a subtle indication that he wished for him to attempt to deep-throat him. Drake resumed blowing his husband, trying to accomplish this task, taking breaths and jerking it in between taking it to the root.

Austin: That’s it, Babe! That’s a good boy.

Drake (moving to kiss him): I love you. You know that, right?

Austin (pushing his head back to his groin): Yeah, yeah… I know.

Drake’s mouth kissed at Austin’s inner thighs as his husband playfully slapped his cock against his head, the sound of flesh against flesh in Drake’s ears.

Drake: Careful! You could put my eye out with that.

Austin (running his hands through Drake’s head): Sorry, Babe.

He took Austin’s cock into his mouth again, once more rhythmically back and forth upon it, his tongue sweeping around the orb of the cock head. He heard Austin’s moans, felt his hand placing firmer pressure upon his head, and then heard Austin’s cell phone ring. He consequently withdrew his mouth from the cock as Austin answered it.

Drake: Austin!

Austin (holding up his finger to Drake to quiet him): One moment, Babe. (pause as he listens before talking into the phone) What? Okay, I’ll be right there! (snapping phone shut)

Drake: Austin! No…

Austin (rising from the bed): I’m sorry, Babe. We’re gonna have to finish this up another time.

Drake: What’s so important?

Austin: That was Mike Kirkland at the office. There’s a problem, and only I can fix it. One of our major clients needs—

Drake (brushing him off): Whatever!

Austin (having pulled up his slacks, coming over to kiss Drake): I promise I’ll make this up to you.

Drake (pouting): Okay.

Austin: I can tell how excited you were to finish. (winking) I’ll get back just as soon as I can. (kissing him and leaving Drake, sour-faced and partially upset that he didn’t get any oral action done on him)

NONDESCRIPT DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES WAREHOUSE, RAVE SPOT

Blink182’s “Dammit” plays as Justin inhales a quick smoke of weed, jumping to the beating music of the rave. It had been nearly three hours since his escape from Brendon and Nathan’s home. The beeping on the ankle monitor had stopped, and this put him under the false impression that he was in the clear. He had hitchhiked a ride out of the Hollywood Hills from one of his old Hollycove Prep classmates, who happened upon him when he was on Mulholland Drive. His friend was on his way to a monster rave, and as it was his birthday, Justin felt he couldn’t miss out on it. The crowd’s energy in the warehouse was amazing. The strobe lights, smoke, and bouncing revelers in the mosh pit added to the overall marvel. He saw that some people were taking ecstasy pills as well, and when he finished his joint, he passed it to the girl next to him, who took a quick puff of it. She was a flaming beauty with a slick figure, and he couldn’t resist the urge to introduce himself to her in hopes of getting lucky.

Justin: I’m Justin.

Enid (shouting over the loud music): My name’s Enid.

Justin: Nice to meet you, Anita.

Enid (over loud music): it’s Enid.

Justin (holding hand to his mouth to shout): Isn’t this the shit?

Enid (shouting): Yeah, it’s cool. I like went to one in NYC. It was wicked.

Justin (not hearing her well): What?

Enid (continuing to shout): You come to these a lot?

Justin (shouting): Nah! It’s my birthday.

Enid: Happy Birthday! (continues jumping to the loud music and removes her camisole) Let’s dance!

They danced in tune to the throbbing beat of the music, her touch very intoxicating to him. He got a boner just being that close to her, their sweaty flesh rubbing against each other. He couldn’t hear her that well over the loud music, and suggested they go to the roof to get some air. It was when they were moving through the crowd that he made a pass to kiss her, but she moved her head, and he missed the chance, but then she said something encouraging, which he miraculously could make out over the ubiquitous loud music.

Enid (moving her mouth toward his): You’re quite cute.

Justin: And you’re pretty hot.

Enid (kissing him): Thanks.

Justin pinned her against the nearest wall. She didn’t seem to mind, though he knew she was under the influence of some substance. They made out some more, and she barely spoke as his hands tried to run the full length of her body. She continued kissing him, her mind on a psychedelic trip. She looked out into the crowd of revelers and saw something phantasmagoric, someone that got her heart racing into overdrive. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets as the shock gripped her body, causing her to fall to the ground. Upon seeing her faint, Justin crouched to the floor beside her and tried to revive her, erratically shaking her, his first fearful thought that she had overdosed. Freaking out, he didn’t know what to do, and didn’t get much of a chance to think more on it, for at that precise moment he saw Nathan and Brendon approach him, a police cop close behind them.

He tried to flee but was unsuccessful. Needless to say that the rave was soon busted by the cops, and the last image Justin saw of the warehouse was the poor girl being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Yes, indeed, some birthday this has turned out to be!

HOLLYCOVE TRIBUNE HEADQUARTERS, OWNER’S OFFICE, LATE EVENING

Rodrigo stood across the desk from his superior Gus, who was elated with what he had been brought. Vittoria’s diary sat prominently in view on the desk between them along with the translations Callum had provided Rodrigo.

Gus: Rodrigo, you do realize this is big news. Bigger than Monica or Heidi! If this is legit, we’ll be on the top with this. Not even The Times knows about this.

Rodrigo: What about my—

Gus: Don’t you worry about that. I’ll make sure get credit for the story.

Rodrigo: Thanks.

Gus: You could have gone to other tabloids with this and made some good cash.

Rodrigo: Nah, Gus, I’m a loyal guy.

Gus: That’s what I want to hear, Rodrigo. I always want a loyal guy in my court. The only guy I wouldn’t want next to me is Brendon Roberts. Tomorrow’s gonna hurt big time for him.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EVENING

After his meeting with Jeremy, Callum had gone to the solarium where Godfrey “shooed” him away, indicating that the situation between him and Priscilla was under control. He next went to the kitchen and made a nice cup of chamomile tea to calm his nerves before retiring early for the night. It was only about nine, and he wanted to go kiss Edward goodnight, and in leaving his room, he tripped over Talon’s carry-on suitcase, which he had prematurely packed, thinking that they were returning to Britain soon. He had apparently forgotten to zip the compartments, for the contents of it spilled onto the floor.

Callum’s eyes fell onto a small photo album, which he picked up, seeing an image of himself. He flipped through it, a smile breaking upon his face, realizing they were photos from nearly a decade ago when he and Talon were Oxford students. In addition to those university photos, he saw pictures of their weekend trips to Manchester and the ensuing fun on Canal Street, their adventurous spree to Blackpool, and the photos of their treasured, relaxing holiday on the English Riviera in Devon—Talon spread out on the beach, futilely sunbathing. Oh, Talon, those were the days. You’d call them the “pre-Gavin” era. I’ll admit we were so happy then.

Callum tried to put the little album back into the suitcase compartment when out fell Talon’s passport, and he naturally couldn’t resist taking a look in it. Damn, he’s such a fit bloke. I envy anyone who takes good photos in government-issued documents. The passport looked in pristine condition as it was a new one issued a little over a year ago. He thumbed through the pages, seeing that Talon had done much traveling in this short period, his eyes catching a series of stamps that seized his full attention. He saw the one that signified Talon’s unexpected trip to Belgium to crash his wedding to Gavin, but it was two additional trips that caused Callum to draw in his breath.

Talon had coincidentally made a trip to Australia, which was where he and Gavin had spent their honeymoon. This was not as unsettling as the stamp that indicated Talon had been in the exact same part of the world when Gavin had been lost at sea.

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, LATE EVENING

Estrella had made it home much later than she had expected. She had not felt well since leaving the charity function, her mind worried about Chloe and her libido reignited by Tristan. She unfortunately incurred the ire of the cabbie a few times when she demanded he pull over as she had got a brief spell of motion sickness. She also had made him stop at a few places along the way home, the old man carping that he wasn’t her personal chauffeur. She promised to handsomely finance him for the inconvenience. An hour later she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

It wasn’t such a bad day. I made a pass on Chloe. She turned me down, but at least I reconnected with Tristan. How ironic that I told him we make a great team together. It was then that Estrella took another look at the affirmative pink line on the pregnancy test she had taken several minutes ago. She snapped off the bathroom light and perfunctorily prepared for bed.

TO BE CONTINUED…