The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 35: “Dire Consequences”

Drake had just made it home, having left the hospital, his face a complete tear-stained wreck, every part of his body ached as if it had been hit by a ton of bricks. He sat down on the couch and buried his head in his hands, crying to himself. It was all over. There was nothing left that could be done. Though life without Austin would be unthinkable, it was now a fait accompli, especially once the test results got back. The doorbell rang. He didn’t really want to see anyone, even though the majority of the Outrunners were very friendly and sympathetic toward him. It was Priscilla, who immediately hugged him.

Priscilla: I wanted to check on you. You know you’re like part of my family, Sweet Cheeks. (kisses him)

Drake (staring blankly in the distance): Thanks for the card and flowers.

Priscilla: It’s the least I could. Do you need anything else?

Drake: Some time alone would be great if that’s okay with you.

Priscilla: I understand. (maternally patting his shoulder) I’m going to the salon for a mani and pedi. I’m sure Taylor could fit you in if you want to come. It might take your mind off—

Drake (morosely): I’m fine here.

Taking the hint, Priscilla reluctantly left, hoping that Drake would find some solace. He found it in crying his heart out for the next half hour before he met with Allison, who gave him the bad news he had already been expecting.

FORTY-EIGHT HOURS EARLIER… SHADY PALMS REHABILITATION CENTER, MALIBU

Dr. Shoai had tracked down Heath after his emotional outburst in group therapy. Fearing that he would suffer a regression, he suggested a private session with Heath, who he found to be more open about the incident as if his dramatic confession had freed him of the weight that burdened him. They had been talking for about fifteen minutes when Heath hit a stumbling block.

Heath: I-I don’t know. I guess telling a bunch of strangers about the attack is easier than telling him.

Dr. Shoai: And you’re certain of his reaction? That he’ll flee.

Heath: I know he will. He’s that type.

Dr. Shoai: And you’re just as certain of his love for you?

Heath (dramatic pause): Whose?

Dr. Shoai: Tristan’s. Who else is there?

The sound of Lamb’s “Stronger” begins playing in the background as Heath silently twiddles his thumbs, head bowed in deep thought. When he raises it, Dr. Shoai immediately sees tears flooding Heath’s eyes.

Heath: Kyle.

Dr. Shoai: And what’s his relationship to you?

Heath: He and I lived together for four years. He was going to ask me to marry him, but then—

Dr. Shoai (sensing Heath’s reserve): It’s okay. If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to—

Heath: But I want to. (pauses) I-I want to understand how I could have messed up something so special. Kyle was so good to me, and then I betrayed him with Tristan.

Dr. Shoai: I see.

Heath (looking him square in the eye): I love them both, Doc. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Dr. Shoai: Did anyone get hurt besides you?

Heath: Kyle was furious when he found out, but Tristan was there for me.

Dr. Shoai: Has he always been there for you?

Heath: Who? Kyle or Tristan?

Dr. Shoai: Tristan.

Heath (swallowing the lump in his throat): H-He’s been there for me—on more than one occasion.

Dr. Shoai: And Kyle?

Heath: (tears coming to his eyes): With Kyle, it’s different.

Dr. Shoai: How so?

Heath: He loves me. (feeling a pang of anxiety) No, I know what you’re thinking. Let me explain.

Dr. Shoai: It’s okay, Heath. I’m not thinking anything. Just tell me how you feel.

Heath: About Kyle?

Dr. Shoai: If you wish.

Heath: Kyle, for the most part has always been there for me. When he got his promotion, his workload increased, and he didn’t have much time for me. Th-That’s when Tristan came into my life. Kyle’s feelings for me never changed then (tears flowing). He would still kiss me, hold me—(putting hands to his face)

Dr. Shoai (handing him tissues): Here.

Heath (wiping away tears): Kyle really loves me. I know it. After the—the—(pause) he was there for me. I felt so safe in his arms that evening after it happened. He stayed with me until Tristan came home.

Dr. Shoai: And how has Tristan reacted to Kyle’s support?

Heath: He thinks I’m cheating on him. I’m not, you know. Kyle and I haven’t done anything. We’re just friends.

Dr. Shoai: Is he of that same opinion?

Heath: Pardon?

Dr. Shoai: Well, you said he asked you to marry him. He must want more than friendship. He—

Heath (finishing for him): --wants to spend the rest of his life with me.

Dr. Shoai: And do you want to--?

Heath (throwing up hands): I don’t know what I want. I feel so selfish playing with their affections like this. Tristan is a wonderful guy, the greatest lover anyone could ask for, but—(long pause)

Dr. Shoai: We don’t have to talk about it, Heath.

Heath: He cheated on me. Kyle would never do that to me.

And then Heath remembered his last encounter with Kyle when he had suggestively remarked that something had happened between him and Bralen. Bralen! Another can of worms! Will this cycle of pain ever end? I’ve hurt three men, none of whom deserved it.

Dr. Shoai: Heath?

Heath (waking from his reverie): Yes? Sorry. I dozed off for a moment. You were asking me something?

Dr. Shoai: I was wondering if you would like to try some art therapy.

Heath: Never thought of it. Don’t see the relevance, but I’ll give it a shot.

Dr. Shoai reached into his satchel and withdrew an elongated pad and some pencils and coloring sticks. He handed them to Heath, who hesitantly took them, a look of confusion on his face. Soon he felt like he was back in elementary school with the task set before him, one which would ultimately unlock some deep truths within him.

HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, MID MORNING

Austin Monroe opened his eyes to the light. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, and he saw he was in hospital, a white sheet covering his body, tubes going into him. His mind disoriented, he tried to turn on his side, hoping to see a familiar face. Drake was not sitting in the chair. It was someone else. In that moment, Austin thought he had died and gone to hell. Brendon rose from the chair and came to him.

Brendon: I should let Allison know you’re conscious now.

Austin (speaking through parched throat): Dr-Drake?

Brendon: He’s not here. I think Allison sent him home. (grasps water jug and pours water in a cup) He would have stayed here all night. That boy really loves you. (holding cup to Austin’s mouth for him to drink) I probably shouldn’t have done that.

Austin (having regained some ability to speak): W-Why?

Brendon: You don’t know? You were poisoned at the potluck. (looking at Austin’s shocked expression) Yeah, you were… poisoned mushrooms to my understanding. Who would have thought that?

Austin: Well, I’m not dead.

Brendon (sotto voce): Yet. (aloud) You nearly were.

Austin: You failed.

Brendon: What? You think I’m behind this?

Austin: You couldn’t accept defeat. I won the election fair and square.

Brendon: I don’t have to resort to murder to get my position back. Actually, I think you’re simply going to resign and hand it back to me.

Austin: Over my dead body!

Brendon: How ironic! (setting laptop on roller table and moving it toward Austin) Did you know that when I woke from my coma that Callum had arranged a gift for me? (turning on computer) Yeah, he did. Photos of him with Nathan kissing in public. I likewise have a gift for you. (clicking on a tab, the sound of raunchy man-sex soon filling the room, effectively punctuated with a moan that Austin knew belonged to Drake)

Austin (trying to push away the computer): Turn it off!

Brendon (picking up laptop): So you recognize your boy? He’s quite talented. I didn’t know Drake had it in him, although if you watch to the end, you see he really does have it in him.

Austin: You bastard! (attempting to rise but getting short of breath)

Brendon: I’m sure you don’t want this getting out. I think you already know the conditions. Your letter of resignation can be either written or emailed to the Exec Board and Emeritus Council.

The look in Austin’s eyes was definitely murderous, and had he any strength in his body, he would have lunged for Brendon’s jugular, delighting in the kill. As it was, he knew Brendon held all the cards. At that moment Drake entered the room, an expression of happiness overtaking him as he saw Austin awake.

Drake (throwing arms around him): Thank God! (kissing him and turning to look at Brendon) Were you here when woke?

Brendon (disregarding the question): We were just talking about you, Drake. Your ears must be burning… (glancing at the laptop) or is it your ass that’s still on fire?

Drake (confused): Pardon me?

Brendon (looking at Austin): I’ll leave you two to talk it over.

Drake: Talk what?

Brendon (shoving the laptop at him, taking in a Cuban accent): You got some ‘splaining to do. (turning to Austin) I’ll be expecting that letter later today. (turning to leave but wishing he were a fly on the wall)

Drake would wish he had the wings of such a fly for a speedy escape.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MORNING

Tristan awoke to the loud banging on his front door, rolled out of bed totally nude, grabbed a pair of boxers to slip into, and went to the door. Upon opening it, he didn’t have time to immediately close it, for Callum barged right inside the apartment.

Tristan: I was wondering when you would show up.

Callum: Especially since we parted on such sour terms.

Tristan: Look, I didn’t know he was an old flame of yours. Are all gay Brits off limits now?

Callum (nonchalantly): I don’t care about Talon. Whatever happened between you two is pond scum under the bridge.

Tristan: Then what brings you round? I’ve already paid this and next month’s rent.

Callum (distracted by men’s clothing strewn on the couch): My word! (picking up a pair of boxers) You do move fast. Talon’s back in England, Heath’s gone missing, and you’re onto the next whore!

Tristan (snatching the boxers from him): This is none of your business.

Callum: Aren’t you the least bit curious what’s happened to Heath? He’s disappeared without a word to anyone but Kyle, who’s under the impression that he’s done something to himself.

Tristan: Why would he do that?

Callum: Because he found you in bed with—

Tristan: Callum, I’m not responsible for what Heath does.

Callum: You’ve cast some spell over him. He was madly in love with you. Have you heard from him?

Tristan: No, I haven’t. (exhaling) But I’m guessing Heath’s disappearance isn’t the reason for this social call. That would be a little too selfless for you.

Callum: Perhaps you’re right. I came here because I need your help taking down Brendon.

Tristan: And why would I help you, the man who killed my best friend?

Callum: For the last bloody time, I didn’t kill Vittoria. She’s responsible for Peyton’s death and the scar on my arm. Of course she was always clumsy with guns. She botched up her mission to get rid of Allison.

Tristan (threateningly advancing upon him): Don’t you dare make fun of—

Callum: Hold your horses! (backing away) I figured you would need some persuasion. (withdrawing Vittoria’s cell phone)

Tristan: What are you doing with that?

Callum: Did you know Vittoria was in contact with Brendon just days before she tried to kill me? (holding up phone to show its call list) What you probably don’t know is that Brendon supplied her with the bullets that killed Peyton. I have the voicemail and text messages to prove it.

Tristan: Why don’t you take this to the police? I’m not interested in helping you. In fact, I want as much distance between you and me as possible.

Callum (snapping phone shut): As you wish. (walks to the door and turns around to face him) Of course you may get a visit from the authorities.

Tristan: Why?

Callum: Well, you and Estrella knew of Brendon’s operation. Both of you are waist deep in this.

Tristan (hearing Estrella’s name, he reacts by pushing Callum out the apartment): Like I said, you’ll have to do this on your own. I won’t have anything to do with your vendetta against Brendon.

Callum: You keep forgetting who calls the shots.

Tristan: Yeah, I do. (slams the door in Callum’s face and locks it)

TAYLOR’S TASTEFUL TOUCH SALON, SANTA MONICA BLVD, WEST HOLLYWOOD

Garbage’s “Androgyny” opens this scene as Priscilla takes a sip of her iced coffee. She looked in the mirror, watching as the androgynous Taylor Smith once more performed magic on her hair.

Taylor: So you were saying this bitch tried to kick you out of your own home?

Priscilla: Yes, Callum is a downright scoundrel, using my Peyton’s will against me!

Taylor: That’s really fucked up. You know it’s still so hard for me to imagine that Peyton’s gone.

Priscilla: I bet.

Taylor: What’s that look you’re giving me, Priscilla Ashland?

Priscilla: Well, rumor has it that you lusted after my baby.

Taylor: No shit! Girlfriend, I heard stories that you gave birth to a tripod.

Priscilla: Well, I knew at birth that he was special. There were times when changing his diaper that I knew my future daughter-in-law would have incredible orgasms.

Taylor: Only you didn’t know then that he would turn out to like men. (seeing Priscilla begin to cry, reaches for tissues)

Priscilla (accepting them and wiping her eyes): I’m sorry, Taylor. It’s still too much for me to think of him.

Taylor: It’s alright, Child, cry yo’ heart out all you want. We can change the subject—not from sex but to someone else. I noticed that you had a special glow. Are you seeing someone?

Priscilla (winking): Maybe.

Taylor: Is it serious or is he just a fuck buddy?

Priscilla: Oh, Taylor, I’m much too old for that.

Taylor: Girl, you’re LA’s most notorious cougar! Who’s the lucky boy?

Priscilla (reaching for her iced coffee): He’s not a boy… (taking a sip) He’s—oh boy! (suddenly spitting out the coffee, accidentally spraying part of it on Taylor)

Taylor: Bitch, what’s your problem?

Priscilla (raising her hand to touch Taylor’s chin and tilting it to the side so that Taylor could see the origin of her unforeseen frenzy): That!

Taylor: Damn!

In through the door had come the most tantalizingly delicious male specimen either of them had seen in a matter of weeks. He was tall, well-tanned with an enviable olive complexion, and possessed a muscular frame that begged attention and indubitably received it. Once seeing them, he gave the most heartwarming smile and came over to them, a palpable note of seduction in his walk, his tight clothing like a second skin.

Priscilla (rising from her chair): How may I help you?

Taylor (pushing her back down into the chair): Bitch, speak for yourself. (extending her hand out) Hi, I’m Taylor Smith, owner of this fine establishment. How would you like me to do you? (feeling Priscilla strike her side) Uh, I meant, what can I do for you?

Vincenzo: I was told you gave the best haircuts.

Priscilla (sotto voce): And bruises. (rubbing her legs)

Taylor (to Vincenzo): That’s true. Every queen within a mile of West Hollywood knows I give the best haircuts.

Priscilla: And head!

Taylor: I heard that.

Priscilla: Good. I wasn’t whispering that time.

Taylor (to Vincenzo): You’re not from around here. Your accent gives you away.

Vincenzo: I’m visiting my big brother. He was the one who referred me to you.

Taylor: Is that so? And what’s his name?

Vincenzo: Tristano Bersani.

Taylor: Tristan? You’re his brother?

Priscilla (her eyes glued to his crotch): I think I can make out the family resemblance. (taking the newspaper and fanning herself)

Vincenzo: Are you all right, signora?

Priscilla: H-Hot flash.

Vincenzo: Allow me to get you some water. (he moves to the vending machine in the far corner to purchase some bottled water, Priscilla stops fanning herself as Taylor bends down, her face coming into Priscilla’s vision)

Taylor: Just what do you think you’re doing?

Priscilla: You’re much too young. Step back and learn from an expert.

Taylor (laughing): Bitch, please. I was turning tricks back in kindergarten.

Priscilla (scoffing): You nearly broke my hip when you pushed me down into this chair.

Taylor: Yeah. So we’ll be even once he breaks my hip when he twists me around his—(interrupted by Vincenzo’s return)

Priscilla (accepting the bottled water): Thank you. I meant grazie… er—

Vincenzo: Vincenzo. (kissing her hand) The pleasure is all mine.

Taylor (sotto voce): And soon to be mine as well. (aloud) I’ll be right with you. I just need to finish with her.

Vincenzo (his cell suddenly ringing, answering it): Pronto. (he walks away)

Taylor: Okay, Mrs. Robinson, you want to make a bet.

Priscilla: On what?

Taylor: Who gets Casanova in the sack first.

Priscilla: At least he knows what he’ll find between my legs. With you, it’ll be a guessing game.

Taylor: Bitch!

Vincenzo (coming back): I need to schedule for another time. Tristano needs me.

Taylor: Come back anytime, and I’ll put you at the head of the line… (sotto voce) and my bed!

Vincenzo thanked Taylor, winked at Priscilla, and left the salon. Taylor and Priscilla continued their usual bickering and gossip until Priscilla’s hair was finished.

BRALEN’S HOME, SANTA MONICA, MIDMORNING

Bralen’s strong body had sustained much from Rodrigo’s battering. It was just a few cuts and bruises. He foolishly chose not to press charges, partially because he knew he was to blame, having instigated the matter by dumping the chocolate on Callum. The one good thing to come out of it was Kyle’s doting charm when he insisted Bralen stay with him that night. Nothing sexual happened between them, but Bralen knew Kyle’s resolve was waning. He hated leaving Kyle that morning, but he needed to get back to the coast. He found a shocking surprise when he made it home to Santa Monica, the front door of his house wide open. He wondered why the alarm hadn’t gone off and gingerly entered the house, noting there weren’t any unusual cars parked in the vicinity.

The inside looked awful, furniture overturned, papers scattered over the floor, the TV screen shattered, the curtains ripped. Realizing someone had definitely broken into his home and vandalized it, he pulled out his cell to call the police when a thought stopped him from following through with the action. He intuitively rushed to the garage on the other side of the house where his greatest fear was confirmed. Heath’s car was missing!

ALLISON’S OFFICE, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, NOONTIME

Allison had finished a snack in the cafeteria and was going to visit a colleague in the OBGYN ward when she saw Estrella exit from one of the doctor’s offices there. What’s she doing here? She’s in the wrong ward to get penicillin for one of her STD’s. She followed a safe distance behind Estrella until the woman stopped and pulled out her cell phone. Allison tried to listen in on it, thinking that perhaps it was Chloe on the other end. What she heard confirmed that it wasn’t.

Estrella (talking into the phone): Lindsay, what do you mean you need to stay there for a friend? You’re an actor in Hollywood, where the only friends you have are money and occasional good publicity. Speaking of which, I have a gig for you at the No on Proposition 8 benefit.

Having heard enough, Allison walked back to her office, wanting to call Chloe. She had made up her mind about it but had left her cell in the office. She didn’t expect to see Drake there, his eyes stained red from crying.

Drake (rising upon seeing her): Allison, I really need your help.

Allison (concerned): Is everything all right? Austin was fine this morning when I checked on him.

Drake: It’s not Austin. He’s not the reason I’m here.

Allison (closing the door): What is it, Drake? You’re starting to worry me.

Drake: Oh, Allison, I’ve made a terrible mistake, and I desperately need your help.

Allison (sitting down next to him): What is it?

Drake: You promise to keep this confidential.

Allison: Of course.

Drake: I need you to give me an HIV test.

KYLE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, AFTERNOON

Baxter’s “Love Again” opens this scene as Kyle receives an important call that afternoon that had drained him of life. At first he didn’t want to believe it, but when his police buddies ran the license plate numbers, he knew it had to be true, even though the prospect seemed bleak. He couldn’t hold back the tears. He crashed onto the couch, sorrowfully placing his head in his hands, and soon felt a tap on his shoulder, instantly startling him and prompting him to look up and see Bralen’s face staring at him. He had forgotten to lock the door again.

Bralen: Kyle, are you all right?

Kyle (rising and hugging him): No, Bralen. I’m not all right. They found Heath’s car.

Bralen (hesitantly): Th-They did?

Kyle: At the bottom of a cliff on the coast.

Bralen: Oh my God, Kyle! Was Heath—

Kyle: I don’t know. The car had filled with water. I’m sure we’ll know more soon, I hope. Oh, Bralen, what have I done?

Bralen (holding him): You didn’t do anything. This isn’t your fault.

Kyle: If I had just been more—

Bralen (taking Kyle’s head into his hands): Look at me, Kyle. You are not responsible for this. You would never—

This time Bralen cut himself off as his eyes locked with Kyle’s. His head already cupped in Bralen’s hands, Kyle didn’t have to move his mouth too far to kiss Bralen. Neither pulled away as their tongues massaged each other, their lips touching in a passionate embrace. They briefly separated for a moment, staring at each other with an ardent sense of bubbling hunger that lasted a few seconds. Kyle had surrendered himself over to this sensation as he drew Bralen closer to him, his brawny right hand pinning Bralen’s lean physique against him. Their mouths gave off heat as Bralen’s hand dexterously slipped between their bodies to unzip Kyle’s fly and shove his trousers down.

Bralen hadn’t expected the force of Kyle’s strength as he pushed him back against the wall, Bralen’s back causing the walled mirror to shake. Kyle’s mouth went to Bralen’s neck, the feeling further arousing Bralen’s libido, Kyle’s stubble brushing against his sensitive skin. Their bodies pressed tightly together, Bralen could feel Kyle’s erection poking through his black boxers. Reaching around, his hands yanked them down, his fingers feeling the tight, firm contours of Kyle’s ass. He couldn’t resist taking a quick grab of it, which resulted in Kyle biting his neck. Their breathing grew deeper and then Bralen felt Kyle rest his head on his shoulder, followed by the feeling of hot tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. Kyle’s whimper confirmed he was crying.

Bralen: Kyle?

Kyle (pulling away, tears in his eyes): I don’t know if I can go through with this.

Bralen: Let me—(lowering his body)

Seconds later Kyle felt a familiar sensation course through his body as Bralen reenacted a sinful performance that they had done mere weeks before. But then Kyle’s resolve was stronger, and he had been able to fend off temptation. Now his body craved contact with another man, and that carnal determination coupled with his crippling lonesomeness proved a formidable opponent for his conscience. Bralen had been working his magic, the roof of his mouth an inviting warmth to Kyle’s starving cock. It was suction sent from heaven, Kyle giving himself over to the manly impulse to grasp the back of Bralen’s head and gently pull it forward. No gag reflex as he expected! Kyle tilted his head back, his eyes staring at the ceiling, and released a moan that only seemed to further excite Bralen’s mission, his velvet tongue skillfully stirring pleasure nerves Kyle had never even felt before.

The tableau of Kyle locked in ecstasy with Bralen on his knees was an unexpected image to greet Tristan as he came into the room. He stared at them for a few seconds before dramatically grunting to alert them of his presence. Kyle reactively pulled away, drawing up his trousers as Bralen rose, wiping the corners of his mouth with the side of his hand.

Tristan: Please don’t stop on my part.

Kyle: How did you get in?

Tristan: I’ve been knocking on the door for the last minute. I heard you say “yes” so I just came inside.

Bralen (to Kyle): You really need to start locking that door.

Kyle (to Tristan): What are you doing here?

Tristan: I came by to talk with you about Heath, but you’re apparently over him.

Tristan saw Bralen blush and smile while he read an odd mixture of confusion and regret in Kyle’s face.

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

Justin missed Enid. He didn’t know her whereabouts. Had she returned with Callum or stayed in England? In the short time I knew her, she was a cool chick. I can’t say I’ve had much experience with women, the most important one being the woman who passed herself off as my mom. I need to find my biological mother. I hope Callum can come through for me. I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, knowing how the fag is head over heels for Nathan. Justin went downstairs to make himself something to eat and found Nathan in the kitchen.

Justin: What the hell are you doing here?

Nathan (sighing): I came to speak with Brendon.

Justin (curtly): He’s not here.

Nathan: I know that. I’m meeting him here. He said he’s stuck in traffic. (pause) Don’t mind me. Go on with what you were doing—

Justin: You know he’s upset with you for what you told me.

Nathan: I’m aware of that. I think that’s what we’re going to talk about.

Justin: What’s there to talk about? You betrayed his trust!

Nathan: I thought you’d at least be somewhat grateful. Your mother is alive.

Justin: No, my mother is dead to me just like you are!

Nathan: Justin, if you can’t stand to be in the same room as me, I think you should go back upstairs.

Justin: You’re not my father!

Nathan: What are you? Nine? Grow up and start acting like an adult. Stop placing blame on the very people who want to help you. If it weren’t for Eileen and Brendon, Lord only knows where you would have ended up.

Justin: And if you hadn’t come into his life—

Nathan: Look, I’m really tired of your shtick. I’m not the reason Brendon left you. I’m not the reason he’s gay. Just because you hate the fact he loves me doesn’t give you the right to spread malice and lies. Justin, I very nearly went to jail because of you! I’m just glad your father got to you in time, made you come to your senses, recant your statement, and drop those charges.

And in that heated moment of Nathan’s long overdue diatribe to Justin, the boy realized he had been given the necessary ammunition to drive the wedge further between them.

Justin: Yeah, I did put you through hell and nearly sent you there.

Nathan: Don’t you have any compunction?

Justin: Any what?

Nathan: Any regrets?

Justin: My only regret was not finishing the job. If it hadn’t been for that carpet muncher coming to your rescue, you‘d be out our lives forever.

Nathan: What are you talking about? (his facial expression undergoing a dramatic transformation as it dawns on him) No. (shaking his head)

Justin: It wasn’t an accident. I knocked you out.

Nathan (stuttering): B-But—

Justin: I know. Brendon said you slipped but he saw the whole thing.

Nathan: No, you’re lying.

Justin: Just how do you think he got locked in the cellar? Or rather who do you think locked him in? For once I’m telling the truth, but I can understand your doubts.

Nathan (holding onto kitchen counter to brace himself): Why should I believe any of this?

Justin: Brendon saw everything and still he lied about it to you. He protected me like a good father. It’s the one good thing he’s done.

Nathan (turning to face him, shocked): You tried to kill me.

Justin: Well, I guess you and Brendon really do have a lot to discuss now.

Brendon (at precisely that moment, he opens the front door and walks inside): Sorry, I’m late. The freeway was a nightmare. (noticing Nathan’s troubled expression) Is everything okay?

Nathan: I-I need to go. (picks up keys and hurriedly leaves)

Brendon: No, Nathan, wait! (runs after him, but Nathan is too quick, having got into his car and sped off) Justin, what was that about?

Justin (smiling to himself): He said something earlier about you being too late!

CALLUM’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EVENING

Callum had finished writing the draft of a chapter in his new story when Rodrigo knocked on the door of his study. He rose to open the door, finding a warm and happy expression on Rodrigo’s face.

Rodrigo: I hope I’m not interrupting you, Mr. Sutcliffe.

Callum: I was just finishing up. What is it?

Rodrigo: You’ll be very proud of me. I paid a visit to that yoga douchebag’s home. I left him a calling card not to ever fuck with you again.

Callum: Rodrigo, I’m not sure if that was such a—

Rodrigo: Don’t’ worry. I didn’t harm him. I just left him with a huge housecleaning bill and a need to call his car insurance company.

Callum: Just make certain it can’t be traced back to me.

Rodrigo: Ah, Mr. Sutcliffe, you know I would never do anything like that. I always look out for you. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. I care for—

The beginning of his amorous confession was cut short by Godfrey entering the room to announce that Nathan was downstairs. Callum politely dismissed Rodrigo and asked Godfrey to send Nathan to him. Moments later, he came into the room, Callum instantly reading a pall of unease in his body language.

Nathan: Hi, Callum.

Callum: Good evening, Nathan. Is everything all right? You look rather stressed.

Nathan: I’ve just been very preoccupied lately. My parents are visiting. They should be in later.

Callum: They should be a nice distraction.

Nathan (sighing): Yeah, I’m not ready for them.

Callum: You can always invite them over here for drinks. I would love to meet them.

Nathan (hesitantly): I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You live next door to Brendon, and Ma’s already full of questions as to why I’m staying in Silver Lake.

Callum: You haven’t told her about you and Brendon.

Nathan: Callum, there is no me and Brendon.

Nathan had just left from Brendon’s, his altercation with Justin still fresh on his mind. Though he didn’t want to believe a word out of the boy’s mouth, something told him there was the horror of truth in that malicious confession. Nathan hadn’t taken the time to realize that he had vocalized something to Callum that he had wanted to initially keep to himself, but as his eyes locked with Callum’s, he no longer cared. Callum had always been there for him when Brendon wasn’t. Razorlight’s “I Can’t Stop This Feeling I’ve Got” starts playing in the background as he moves toward Callum, his hand rising to cradle Callum’s head, gently pulling it forward to offer him a kiss. Callum didn’t resist, his body language seeming to encourage it. Their mouths connected with an intense warmness.

Callum (gently pulling himself away, his eyes never leaving Nathan’s): Are you sure about this?

Nathan’s mouth planting itself back on Callum’s was all the confirmation he needed. Their kissing spree grew in intensity, their bodies moving backwards until Callum fell back onto the couch, the weight of Nathan atop him a most welcome force. All the while kissing, both their hands worked to free Nathan of his clothing, Nathan unbuttoning his shirt, and Callum’s nimble fingers working to undo Nathan’s zipper and slip out the belt.

Callum (pushing Nathan back a few inches): To hell with this! (grabbing Nathan’s shirt and ripping it off, buttons popping off and scattering on the floor) I’ll buy you a new one!

Callum’s mouth went straight to Nathan’s exposed chest, kissing it, his tongue playing with Nathan’s left nipple. He couldn’t believe that he was in this moment, feeling this close to Nathan, whose mouth was nibbling on the nape of his neck. Callum released a very loud moan. When he raised his head to look deeply into Nathan’s intoxicating eyes, it was then that Callum saw the familiar locket hanging around Nathan’s neck.

Nathan (noticing Callum’s sudden silence): What is it? (following his stare) Oh, this. It’s my mother’s. I can take it off if it’s—

Callum (snapping out his daze, kissing him): It’s fine. You can keep it on, but everything else has to—

Nathan (looking at him with hungry eyes): I don’t know what it is about you, Callum Sutcliffe, but I’m drawn to you. It’s—

Callum: Bitchcraft.

They laughed before Nathan moved in for another kiss. Callum had managed to get out of his own shirt when Nathan’s cell phone rang, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” ringtone filling the room.

Nathan: Hold on! (reaching for the phone)

Callum: Don’t answer it.

Nathan had already answered it, his facial expression changing dramatically after the first ten seconds.

Nathan: Ma, just calm down. Did you call an ambulance? I’ll be right there. (snapping phone shut) Callum, I’m sorry. I-I have to go. That was my mother. They’ve made it into Los Angeles, but my dad’s complaining of chest pains. (grabbing his shirt) I promise I’ll be back once—

Callum (rising from the couch and composing himself): Don’t worry about me. See to your family. (feeling Nathan kiss him)

Nathan slipped into his shirt, pulled up his trousers, and headed for the door. Rodrigo, who had been peeping through the keyhole, moved away in time for Nathan’s exit. Rodrigo swiftly turned on his heel and headed down the hall, murderous anger written on his face.

AUSTIN AND DRAKE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, EVENING (SAME DAY AS OPENING SCENE)

Allison had finished her last rounds for the day. Austin was in his room, sleeping soundly. He would be discharged in another day or so. Though she was exhausted, she wanted to go check on Drake. Earlier that day, she had delivered him really unfortunate news. It took her another thirty minutes to get to West Hollywood, parking outside Austin and Drake’s home. Drake’s car was in the drive. She could tell that Drake was half-expecting the test results she had given him earlier that day, yet the devastation had clearly been on his face. She only wanted to be supportive as she knew it had been a life-altering revelation for him. She rang the doorbell a few times. It was then that the almighty force of feminine intuition stole over her, and she walked across the porch to peek inside the nearest window, at once unleashing a scream that deafened the neighborhood.

There inside Drake appeared suspended in the air, a rope secured around his neck.

TO BE CONTINUED…