The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 34: “Pick Your Poison”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Trey Maupin: sex addict, early 30’s, dark hair, lean muscular frame, Egyptian/French, mentally dense

ESTRELLA’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, MORNING

Estrella had finally managed to get Tristan on his phone after two weeks of his not returning her calls during his visit to Italy. On this particular morning, she was thrilled to hear him finally answer his phone whereupon she launched into breaking the monumental news to him.

Tristan: You’ve got to be kidding me, right?

Estrella: I’m not. I was just as doubtful as you at first, but I went to a doctor. I’m pregnant.

Tristan: Then it’s not mine!

Estrella: Who else’s would it be?

Tristan: I don’t know. You get around a lot.

Estrella: Tristan, you’re the only man I’ve been intimate with in the past few weeks.

Tristan: It was just that one time at my place, and I didn’t even cum. I pulled out.

Estrella: I know, but the doctor said that doesn’t matter.

Tristan: Shit! So what do you want me to do?

Estrella: Come back to LA so we can talk about this.

Tristan (heavily sighing): I’m on my way home now. I’m stranded in JFK airport. My connecting flight to LAX is delayed. I should be home by five this evening.

Estrella: Good. I’ll be there. (suddenly hearing static)

Tristan: Estrella, don’t just show up. I have— (the call now drops)

Estrella tried calling him back to no success, but she felt thrilled that the man of her dreams—and the father of her unborn baby—was on his way back into her life. It had been so long since she had seen him or felt his legendary strength. Her eyes and body yearned for him and would be counting down the time until their reunion. Her selfishness prevented her from considering how this might impact someone else in her life—namely Chloe.

KYLE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MORNING

Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUiTQvT0W_0) opens this scene as Kyle perfunctorily rises from bed for yet another day of feeling his heart strained. There was no news in two weeks. He finally broke down and called Heath’s mother in Vancouver to let her know that he had possibly left LA for Canada, only saying that they had sadly broken up. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her of the note Heath had left. Emily’s very fragile-hearted, and this would be too much for her. How could I tell her that he may have…? But how do I even know that? He did leave behind his ring. Kyle reached over the bed and took the ring in his hand, the round piece of metal weighing down his palm with its symbolic sentiment. He brought it to his lips for a kiss as a tear came to his eye.

The doorbell rang. Kyle walked to it, opening it to the appearance of Nathan in a three-piece black business suit. Nathan, for his part, took in the image of a rugged-looking Kyle, shirtless and wearing boxers pulled down a bit too low, exposing a tuft of pubic hair.

Nathan: Morning. I didn’t wake you, did I?

Kyle: No, I was just about to make some coffee. (moving out the way for Nathan to enter)

Nathan (coming in and sitting on couch, moving aside photo album): How are you holding up?

Kyle (closing door): I’m fine, I guess.

Nathan: You guess?

Kyle: I’m alive. What more can I say?

Nathan (glancing at photo of Heath lying on coffee table): Have you heard from him?

Kyle (deeply sighing): Nothing. (raking his hand through his hair) It’s like he’s really gone.

Nathan: You don’t really think he—(emotionally unable to finish the thought)

Kyle: I honestly don’t know what to think anymore, Nate. One thing’s for certain, though. Heath’s finished with me. (setting ring down on coffee table before Nathan)

Nathan (looking up into Kyle’s pained eyes): Kyle, I-I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted—

Kyle: And I felt he wanted it, too. I thought he would see the light and realize we belong together.

Nathan: Where did you get this? Did Heath leave it?

Kyle: Apparently. (going into the kitchen to put on the coffee) Bralen found it in the couch cushions.

Nathan: Bralen? What was he doing here?

Kyle: He’s really turned out to be a good friend. He’s been there for me throughout all this mess.

Nathan: I’m sorry I haven’t. As you know I’ve been really busy with the academy and all this mess with Brendon.

Kyle: It looks like he’s in the clear. Did you read in the newspaper about that guy coming forward?

Nathan: I don’t know what to make of it.

Kyle: Neither do I, but I still have my reservations about Brendon.

Nathan (wanting to change the subject): So, Bralen, huh?

Kyle (coming into the room): What’s that supposed to mean?

Nathan: I’ve seen how he looks at you. Have you given any thought to—

Kyle: I know what you’re thinking, but no one will ever compare to Heath. That’s all I have to say.

And so ended that particular topic…

PEYTON’S HOME, BEVERLY HILLS, MORNING

Brendon awoke from a nightmare about Peyton, his guilt coming back to haunt him. He rose earlier than usual and instead of working out in his home gym, he opted to drive over to Beverly Hills to surprise Priscilla with breakfast. The woman opened the door, wearing a mask of green facial cream, at once feeling embarrassed with herself.

Brendon: Sorry to bother you so early.

Priscilla (going into the other room to get a moist towel to wipe off cream): Don’t worry your sweet heart, Brendon. You know I’ll get into bed with a fine man. I’ll also get out of bed for one.

Brendon: I brought you some breakfast.

Priscilla: Are you trying to romance me, Brendon Roberts?

Brendon (laughing): A lovely woman like you should be used to this. (watching her blush) So what’s up with the cream?

Priscilla: Just some stuff that Taylor Smith recommended. I have an appointment with her—him—well, you know what I mean—in a few days. It’s supposed to be good for my skin. (lasciviously winking at him) Of course, I could think of a more natural substitute.

Brendon: Is your mind always on sex?

Priscilla: Ever since I was a little girl back in the summer of—(dramatically pausing, not wanting to date herself) well, let’s just leave it at summer, although ’69 was a good year. (winking at him)

Brendon: Not even eight o’clock and you’ve already got me in stitches.

Priscilla: And if I had my way, I’d have you in a loincloth. So what’s on the menu?

Brendon: Almond ricotta French toast, asparagus scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and mimosas.

Priscilla: Mimosas!

Brendon: I thought you’d like that.

Priscilla: Damn straight!

Brendon: I’ll set the table.

Once Brendon left the room, the doorbell rang. Priscilla gathered her robe about her and opened the door, thinking perhaps it was another hunky specimen. To her dismay, it was Callum.

Priscilla: What the hell do you want?

Callum: At least you’re covered up this morning. (pushing past her into the house)

Priscilla: How dare you force your way into my home!

Callum: Actually, that’s the reason I came. I want you out my house!

Priscilla: Excuse me!

Callum: Well, it’s really my son’s home. Peyton did leave it to Edward, but as he’s only an infant, I’m acting on his behalf. I don’t want his inheritance disgraced the way you did to my home.

Priscilla: You impudent bastard!

Callum: Call me what you want. I’ve been called everything. I’m sure the publishers of the OED are thinking of a unique pejorative just for me.

Priscilla: I would appreciate your leaving (leaning into his face) And I know you’re responsible for my son’s death, and so help me God I’m going to prove it.

Callum: By dropping your knickers?

Priscilla: Get out or I’ll call the police.

Callum: They’ll be the ones escorting you off this property in thirty days.

Brendon (coming into the room): Priscilla, why are you shouting? (seeing Callum) Why the hell are you here?

Priscilla (going over to Brendon): I tried to make him leave, but he won’t.

Brendon: I’ll take care of him. You go into the kitchen. (once Priscilla has left the room) You get the fuck out of here or else—

Callum (ignoring him): What are you doing here? Trying to recruit Priscilla the cougar for your underground sex operation? (leaning toward him) Or is it you’re trying to ease your conscience?

Brendon (grabbing Callum by the arm, throwing open the door and pushing him outside): I said leave, you bastard!

Callum (releasing himself from Brendon’s grasp): How do you think the old battle ax will react when she learns you’re the reason her son is dead?

Brendon: I didn’t kill him.

Callum: Keep telling yourself that, but the fact remains you and Vittoria worked together. You supplied her with those bullets.

Brendon: And there’s not a shred of proof—

Callum (cutting him off): That’s right. I heard about the two incidents of arson.

Brendon (laughing): Arson? You and that writer’s imagination of yours.

Callum: The only thing I’m imagining is your imprisonment for your little underground operation.

Brendon: I guess you didn’t get the memo. Someone came forward to admit—

Callum (cutting him off): How much did you pay him? Or did you threaten him? No bother! You won’t get away with it on my watch.

Brendon (turning to go back inside): Dream on, little man.

Callum: You should know by now that I always have a trump card. I’ll give you a hint. You might want to “call” it in.

Brendon had already reentered the house, shutting the door behind him. Callum turned on his heel, a look of victory in his eye.

BRALEN’S PILATES STUDIO, MALIBU, MIDMORNING

The Smiths’ “Please Let Me Get What I Want” plays as Bralen dismisses his pilates class. He goes to his office to eat an apple and recline on his sofa before his next class in an hour. He sat there pondering how he hoped his plan would come to fruition. He had already made progress with Kyle after Nurse Carmen was able to get Heath’s ring off his hand whilst he was sleeping. She had kept Bralen abreast of Heath’s progress—or lack thereof. I’ve been there for Kyle throughout this ordeal, and I know he’ll come round sooner or later. I hate for Heath to end up losing Kyle, but what goes around comes around. Besides, I really feel something special for Kyle. By the time Heath comes back into the picture, Kyle won’t think twice about him. The source of Bralen’s elation came from Kyle’s recent phone call, asking him out to dinner. Bralen’s excitement was short-lived, for as he exited his meditation room, he found Austin sitting in the waiting area, rising the moment he saw him.

Bralen (surprised): What are you doing here?

Austin: I need to speak with you privately.

Bralen: I’m about to start a class.

Austin: Then I’ll pay to take it. I drove all the way to Malibu to see you.

Bralen: You didn’t have to waste gas coming here. A phone call would have sufficed.

Austin: I needed to see you face to face.

Bralen: What’s so important?

Austin: I want you to pull your name from consideration for Outrunner of the Year.

Bralen: What?

Austin: Given your recent scandal, I think it’s only fair.

Bralen (moving away): I don’t have time for this.

Austin (grabbing Bralen’s arm): I insist you do. I won’t have you making a mockery of this organization.

Bralen (jerking his arm away): You’re already doing that! Now if you don’t want me to call security to escort you away, I suggest you leave now.

Austin: Fine. (turns to leave, but turns to Bralen once he reaches the door) But I do expect your answer at the potluck.

Bralen: Drop dead, Austin.

Bralen then went back to his office, lit some sage, and tried to meditate and relax, but he couldn’t shrug off the taint of Austin’s visit. Something really needs to be done about him. After thinking that, Bralen found himself able to relax as if the universe agreed with him.

SHADY PALMS REHABILITATION CENTER, MALIBU

Heath had been a wreck the past few days, still upset because he had lost Kyle’s ring. He was also angry with himself for lying to Lindsay about Tristan being his husband. Even though he hated rehab, he knew it wasn’t a place for lies. He was very fond of Lindsay, who made his time there bearable. He couldn’t believe he was socializing with a Hollywood celebrity. She probably will forget all about me the minute she leaves and enters back into her own world—like Tristan has. I still can’t believe he purposely cheated on me twenty feet away in the other room. But then again I wasn’t entirely honest with him about what happened to me the day Vittoria and Peyton died. He knows nothing of the rape. Only Kyle and Bralen know… two of the most decent and trustworthy men whose lives I messed up. Would things have been different for Tristan and me had I trusted him with the secret I held?

Coincidentally that evening during group therapy, the underlying subject was trust. Heath liked Dr. Shoai, the leader of the session. A warm and friendly man who made everyone feel welcome, he managed to maintain order when all chaos would break.

Lindsay: All I’m saying is that there are some people like my ex-friend Rachel, who I couldn’t depend on, and at times it’s best to just sever ties.

Trey: Yeah, but this isn’t Hollywood. Some of us can’t just turn our backs on people.

Lindsay: Why do you have to keep throwing Hollywood in my face?

Trey: Because you’re such a name-dropper and—

Lindsay (cutting him off): It’s better I drop names than underwear like you do. Yeah, I saw you last night go into the closet with that male nurse. So much for being “sexually independent,” Trey!

Dr. Shoai (admonishingly): Lindsay, you know we don’t talk to each like that.

Lindsay (mumbling): I’m sorry.

Dr. Shoai (turning to Trey): Did you have anything constructive to say? We’re not here to cast aspersions.

Trey: I think that building trust is important in any relationship, (staring at Lindsay) sexual or otherwise. (throwing up his hands) That’s all I’m saying.

Dr. Shoai (turning to Heath): Heath, do you have anything you’d like to say?

Heath (waking up): Huh?

Lindsay (playfully striking him): Pay attention! Did you have anything to say?

Dr. Shoai (staring at her for the action she had just taken): Lindsay.

Lindsay: He’s just ready to get back home to his family, especially his husband.

Trey: Dude, you’re married?

Heath: N-Not really.

Lindsay: What? You told me the other day you were.

Trey: Maybe he’s unsure about the legitimacy of the union. After all, Prop 8 could make it null and void.

Lindsay: And if that happens, it would still be a marriage in his heart.

Heath (rising): I-I can’t do this. (turning to Dr. Shoai) May I be excused?

Lindsay: Why are you leaving, Heath?

Heath (looking at everyone): All this talk about trust, marriage, sex. None of it matters.

Trey: I beg to differ about the sex. That matters.

Lindsay (sarcastically): That’s because you’re a sex addict! (turning to Heath) What’s wrong?

Heath (tears coming to his eyes): I once thought like you two (Lindsay’s hand reaching out to hold his)… that I could just turn off my emotions if someone dishonored my trust, but it’s different when you really love the person. No matter how much neglect or wrong is done, you keep forgiving them… sometimes to mutual detriment. What good is a marriage if you love two people? (turning to Trey) And, Trey, I love sex as much as the next guy, but sometimes there’s such a thing as too much of it. (noting Trey’s sour expression of disapproval) Especially when it’s forced on you like it was on me.

Lindsay (realization in her eyes as her hand dramatically goes to her mouth) H-Heath.

Trey: Hey, I like rough sex. Some dudes just can’t take it.

Lindsay (striking his arm): That’s not what he meant, you doofus!

Dr. Shoai (admonishingly): Lindsay, you know that’s not how we talk to one another here, and we certainly are not to strike each other. (turning to Heath) Heath—

Trey (clueless): What? I don’t understand.

Lindsay: He’s saying he was—(unable to finish)

Heath: Raped. I was raped. (tears breaking out on his face as he flees the room)

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, EARLY EVENING

Estrella arrived at Tristan’s home around half past four, thrilled at the prospect of their reunion. She found the front door unlocked and entered, immediately greeted by the divine aroma of something cooking in the kitchen. Opening the oven, she found lasagna. There was a bottle of wine on the table, which was set for two. I guess he’s had a change of mind and wants to celebrate the big news. Why else would he put all this together? But where is he? Her ears honed in on the sound of running water.

Air’s “Sexy Boy” begins playing softly in the background as she slips off her shoes and saunters to the bathroom, slowly pushing into the door that was partly open. She looked toward the shower, tiptoed over the semi-transparent glass partition and gingerly slid it back to peek inside. Tristan had his back to her, but she saw the unmistakable beauty of his firm ass and sculpted legs. It looks like he’s been working out in Italy. I can’t wait to feel those muscles. She slipped her lithe frame inside the shower—not caring that her clothing would get wet—stole upon his backside, reaching her soft, delicate hands around him to caress and fondle his cock as the steam enshrouded them. She soon heard him utter “Mama Mia!”

Estrella: You know I love it when you speak Italian, Signore Bersani.

Her left hand began to jerk him as her right relayed a smack to his bottom, the slight pain and overall unexpectedness had him spinning around. She let out a brief shriek. Even though she couldn’t see that well in the steam, she surmised that one of two conditions had occurred since she’d last seen Tristan. Either he had cosmetic surgery while in Italy or someone had broken into his apartment and was partaking of its amenities.

Estrella (stepping back): Who are you?

Vincenzo: Mi chiamo Vincenzo.

Estrella (gingerly stepping out the shower): What are you doing here?

Vincenzo (turning off the water, responding in thick Italian accent): This is my brother’s home. Now what are you doing here?

Estrella (looking at his nude body): I’m Estrella Tartaro. Your brother and I are really close friends.

Vincenzo: Then why has he never mentioned you to me?

Estrella: Just put on some clothes! I can’t believe I—of all people—just said that. (grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself, leaving the bathroom)

She went into the living room, totally embarrassed. She pulled off her wet blouse, her nipples prominently showing through her wet brassiere. She likewise took off her skirt, her intent being to put both articles in the dryer. At that moment, she heard a familiar voice.

Tristan (shouting as he pushes his valise through the front door): Vincenzo, what did I tell you about l-locking this place (his eyes falling onto Estrella’s semi-nude fame) Estrella!

Vincenzo (coming into the room, wearing jeans but bare-chested): I guess it’s now three for dinner. (going over to help Tristan with his luggage) You didn’t tell me you had invited company. I’ll make another place setting at the table.

Tristan: So you two have met?

Vincenzo: Yes, and she gave me quite the American greeting.

Tristan (staring at Estrella): I bet she did.

She could only muster a smile as the two hunky Italian studs briefly left the room.

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EVENING

Rodrigo finished writing in his notebook, set it aside, and stared at Callum, who sat across from him. They had just ended the interview that would be published in Rodrigo’s university newspaper in its back-to-school edition, and Callum set down his wine glass, his eyes glossed with drowsiness. The Bird and the Bee’s “Fucking Boyfriend” begins playing in the scene when looking at Callum, Rodrigo felt a wave of carnal desire sweep over him, the feeling originating in the pit of his loins and radiating throughout his body. He had greatly enjoyed the past few days of living under the same roof as Callum, and he had eagerly waited for such a moment as this. The roofies he had slipped into Callum’s wine should soon be taking effect.

Rodrigo: Thank you, Mr. Sutcliffe. I’m really honored you would share this much of your life with me.

Callum (his arms languorously hanging over chair): You have exclusive rights to me. (inaudibly mumbling and Rodrigo doesn’t hear the following) Most have to go through my agent.

Rodrigo: You really are an incredible person.

Callum (rolling his neck to the side): I’m glad you think so. You’re in the minority.

Rodrigo: Nobody else sees you the way I do.

Callum (drowsily): And how is that?

Rodrigo (rising from chair): We’re both kindred spirits. We go after what we want and won’t let anyone get in our way.

Callum (feeling Rodrigo tug on his shirt): What are you doing?

Rodrigo (unbuttoning Callum’s shirt, exposing his smooth skin): You spilled wine on your shirt.

Callum: I-I don’t see any sp-spots.

Rodrigo: Shh! Just relax (throwing shirt onto the floor, bending over Callum)

Callum: Ohh! (feeling Rodrigo’s mouth descending upon his nipple) Th-That feels good.

Rodrigo: Let me make you feel better. (moving his mouth up to Callum’s , their lips briefly touching before Rodrigo forces his tongue inside Callum’s mouth) I love you, Mr. Sutcliffe.

Callum: And I love you… (inaudibly whispering) Gavin.

Rodrigo (his hands unbuttoning Callum’s trousers): I’ve wanted you for so long… and now I (action cut short by knock on the door)

Godfrey: Your Lordship? (Rodrigo scrambles to get back into his seat before he enters) You have company. (entering and seeing Callum shirtless and sleeping) What the bloody—

Rodrigo: He fell asleep.

Austin (shouting from outside the room): Callum! We need to talk now.

Godfrey (managerially turning to him): I told you to stay in the foyer.

Austin (entering the room): I don’t take orders from you.

Callum (the loud voices having stirred him): W-What’s all this?

Austin: Oh, you decided to join us. Not all of us can afford to sit on our ass and drink wine all day. Some of us have to work.

Callum: What are you on about?

Austin: I’ve been constantly asking you about a celebrity for the Prop 8 event. You were supposed to be going after Ian McKellan.

Callum: He can’t do it. He’s much t-too busy—and quite frankly a little too “high up the social ladder” for such a trifling occasion.

Austin: You asshole! I knew we couldn’t depend on you. We’re going to press soon and need a—

Callum: Pipe down. I’ll see who I can get for you in the morning.

Austin: You’re of no value to me or this club.

Callum (starting to rise from the chair): And neither is Drake, that pathetic excuse of a wife of yours!

Austin (getting in his face): I oughta sock you one.

Rodrigo (aggressively coming forward): I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Callum: By all means, Austin, take your best shot. (suddenly collapses to the floor)

Godfrey (turning to Austin as Rodrigo picks up Callum): I think you should go.

Austin: Please call me at once if he dies. I want to be the first to know.

Godfrey escorted Austin to the door while Rodrigo lifted Callum into his arms and carried him upstairs. Godfrey rushed after him, watching as Rodrigo laid him in the canopy bed, dotingly pulling the blanket over Callum and drawing a chair up to the bed. Godfrey dramatically cleared his throat as Rodrigo started to lower himself into the chair.

Godfrey: That won’t be necessary.

Rodrigo: I was going to sit by the bed and make sure he—

Godfrey: I’ll do that.

Rodrigo: But I—

Godfrey (sternly): I said I’ll do that. I’ve known him much longer than you, and he’ll be rather alarmed should he awaken to you.

Rodrigo: But you don’t understand.

Godfrey: No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. I promised Lord Armitage, his life partner, that I would look after him should matters of this nature occur. You’ll have to pardon my brusqueness, but I needn’t remind you that your room is in the other wing. I suggest you go there.

Rodrigo turned on his heel and reluctantly left Callum’s bedroom, a look of anger and disappointment on his face. That’s two interruptions on our special night together. I know you wanted me to get in bed with you just now. I felt how much you wanted my love when we kissed. Next time I’ll make sure we’ll have our privacy, and remember I won’t let anyone else come between us.

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

Since his presidential victory, Austin’s antics grew more cumbersome for LAOR members, especially when his idiosyncrasies were shoved in everyone’s faces. Having started an LAOR group on Facebook, he would write the most trivial status updates from giving bubble baths to his dogs to what he was preparing for dinner—or in some instances making Drake prepare. On this particular night before the LAOR Rose Bowl Potluck, three sets of eyes were at Austin’s profile page, reading his latest update which needlessly informed everyone of the entrée he would be bringing to the potluck: grilled Portobello with red wine reduction and sautéed onions and carrots. The three individuals all scoffed before their monitors at Austin’s frou-frou nature (mainly because many Outrunners would bring less inferior dishes or worse—fast food dexterously masqueraded as being homemade). However, one of these persons intended to have murder on the menu.

PASADENA ROSEBOWL POTLUCK, BROOKSIDE PARK, THURSDAY EVENING

The Pasadena Potluck at the Rose Bowl was an annual tradition with the Los Angeles Outrunners, taking place the final Thursday in August. It was an occasion on which many Outrunners from all over the vast city of Los Angeles would convene for food and camaraderie, some not having seen each other in several weeks or months; however, this year nearly half the club reluctantly came, knowing that Austin would make some grandiose spectacle of his recent victory.

Kyle particularly had not intended to come, but Bralen successfully coerced him, reminding him that it would be good to get out his depression and socialize with his friends. The persuasion took longer than expected, and as a consequence, they arrived at the event rather late. This unsettled Bralen, for he had learned from experience as a staunch vegetarian that he should arrive early to load his plate with fruits and veggies that the “carnivores” took for granted, and this sometimes left him without much to eat. Such would be the case this evening, leaving him to eat mainly what he had brought, a plate of steamed asparagus. He sat down next to Jeremy Dodd.

Jeremy: Bralen, why don’t you try my quinoa vegetable soup?

Bralen (politely): I’ll pass.

Jeremy: Why? It’s very delicious.

Bralen: It looks like it’s made with chicken stock. I’m vegetarian, remember?

Jeremy: Oh, I had forgotten that.

Callum (sitting across them): Bralen, are you really that anal about vegetarianism? I didn’t see any chicken parts in the soup.

Bralen: It still came from an animal!

Callum: I believe I have some fresh fruit and vegetables in the car. I bought them at that farmer’s market down the street.

Jeremy (getting up to get seconds): That’s great, Callum. I’m sure Bralen would appreciate that.

Callum (looking at Bralen once Jeremy’s out of earshot): The only problem being that I don’t know if they were fertilized with manure, you know… cow shit—which comes from an animal.

Bralen (indignantly rising from the table): Go to hell, Callum!

Callum: You go first.

Austin (coming up to him): Callum, may I have a word with you? (now receiving Callum’s full attention) I got your email. Lindsay Slocumb is our celebrity. Are you kidding me? Is that the best you can do?

Callum: She’s one of Hollywood’s brightest young stars.

Austin: She’s tabloid fodder! What’s her relevance?

Callum: She’s openly supportive of gay rights, and she’s currently in a relationship with a prominent English record producer of the fairer sex.

Austin: So she’s a lesbian? Big deal! We need someone with gravitas. I knew Jeremy was out of his mind to depend on you for something so important. You couldn’t pull a rabbit out your ass if your life—

Callum: T’is pity that a dildo was the last thing poor Drake pulled out his ass, seeing that you’re never around for him.

Austin (pushing Callum): You bastard! (Callum falls back into the main table, knocking dishes onto the ground, Austin’s dish being one of them) You idiot! Look at what you’ve done.

Rodrigo (rushing over and giving Austin the evil eye): Is everything all right, Mr. Sutcliffe?

Callum: I’m fine. I did my duty to spare the club from Austin’s horrible cooking.

Drake (coming over to Austin): Babe, what happened? (looking at Callum) What did you do?

Callum: Nothing. (to Rodrigo) Thanks for your concern.

Rodrigo: I’ll get you some water. (Callum notices Nathan in the distance and goes to him while Drake pats Austin’s shoulder)

Austin: He knocked over the Portobellos. I worked so hard on them.

Drake: Don’t worry. I had already put some on your plate. You should sit down and eat.

Austin (kissing him): You’re right, Babe. I’ve worked up an appetite.

Callum (to Nathan): Hiya.

Nathan: Callum! I heard you were back in town. I haven’t had much time for a visit with the new school term about to start and all.

Callum: You needn’t apologize.

Nathan: Besides, I’m sure you and your friend want your privacy. Where is he? You know I have yet to officially meet him.

Callum: Talon and I parted ways in England.

Nathan: Sorry to hear that. I hope it was amicable.

Callum: He lied to me. (his eyes seeing Allison in the distance) He betrayed me in the worst possible way.

Nathan (patting his shoulder): Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, you know I’m just a phone call away. (looks over to see Kyle in the distance and politely excuses himself)

Callum (going over to Allison): Allison, what an absolute displeasure to see you here. I know you and Austin aren’t on good terms.

Bralen (interjecting): And neither is he with you!

Callum: Austin and I have an arrangement. He needs professional favors from me. Of course these aren’t the same favors you’re accustomed to giving out in West Hollywood.

Allison: Callum, don’t you have a rock to crawl back under?

Bralen: Yeah, just go away. You’re ruining the evening. I wish you had stayed in England.

Callum: I was actually tempted to fly to Beijing for the closing ceremony. As you know, the next Olympiad will be in London. Perhaps you’ll be there in the audience… right where you belong so as to preserve the integrity of the Games! (turning to Allison) And as for you, Xena…

Bralen: Callum.

Callum (turning to face Bralen): What is it now? (unleashes an exclamation as Bralen dumps chocolate from the fondue machine all over him, staining his clothing, the melted chocolate flowing down his head, over his hair and face, getting into his eyes) You idiot! Look at what you’ve done!

Bralen: I figured since you like to talk shit, you might as well look the part.

The spectacle drew the attention of Rodrigo, who rushed over to the defense of Callum. He tackled Bralen, knocking him to the ground whereupon he began violently kicking him in the ribs, chest, and mouth. Rodrigo looked as if he delighted in the thrill of exacting this type of torture.

Callum (rushing to him): Rodrigo, stop it! Stop it, I say! For heaven’s sake, don’t break his jaw. How else is he to earn his living on Santa Monica Boulevard?

Fortunately for Bralen, Kyle had rushed over to pry Rodrigo away from him, ending his heinous spree of deadly affliction. Kyle didn’t have time to get to the bottom of the incident and interrogate Rodrigo, for at that precise moment all eyes had gone to the table where Austin sat. He had risen as if to make yet another grandiose speech when suddenly he began coughing hysterically, his hands reaching to his neck, his body swaying back and forth before it collapsed motionless on the table in front of him.

TO BE CONTINUED…