The Victorious and the Relentless

Episode 39: “When You Were Gone”

Cast of New Characters (for this episode)

Iain Prescott: 20, spiky black hair, average height and weight, blue eyes, pierced ears/eyebrows, wears mascara, eye shadow, dark nail polish, educated but rebellious at times

The spot-on lyrics of The Veronica’s “Untouched” can be heard in the opening scene of this episode as Rodrigo mysteriously sits in Callum’s bedroom. He had managed to steal a key from the housekeeper and had enough time to make a copy of it while Callum was away in New York at Nathan’s father’s memorial. This naturally unsettled Rodrigo as he only wanted to spend every waking moment with Callum. I need to be with you, Callum. To feel your touch like the other night we kissed. We would have made love if it hadn’t been for Godfrey and Nathan. You shouldn’t be away with him. You belong with me. I won’t have to worry about Nathan much longer. He’ll be out of the picture soon.

He walked over to the vanity, picked up Callum’s hairbrush, plucking a strand of hair from it, holding it up to the light and looking at it as if it held all the answers to life’s questions. He then raked the brush through his own hair, the action a symbolic gesture of their union in his mind, before seizing a framed picture of Callum. His eyes then fell on the four-poster canopied bed, and his feet quickly carried him to it like a nail to a magnet. He lay back on the soft sheets, his head cushioned by the soft pillowcase, his nose pressed against the red satin in hope of catching the scent of Callum. He did smell a whiff of Callum’s shampoo, his heart at once racing, his fingers now at task yanking the pillowcase free. Placing his entire body back onto the bed, he pulled up the satin sheets and spreading his arms and legs, he threw the pillowcase over his face, closed his eyes, and imagined Callum was there with him, his beautiful eyes, sensuous lips, and smooth skin fervent in Rodrigo’s mind.

By impulse Rodrigo’s right hand show down to his jeans to unzip them and slip inside his undies. His other hand lifted up his shirt, the contours of his chiseled abs in view as he lifted his butt to fully pull down his underwear and free his mighty cock, already erect. It stiffened when he titillated it with the satin sheets, his right hand moving straight for the thick shaft to jerk it. He managed to get a good rhythm going, tugging on the foreskin, the tip of which was already moist. In his left hand he had grasped the photo of Callum, the image of which further aroused him and the pace at which he pleased himself began to increase exponentially with each lingering stare.

The rubbing and jerking resulted in his releasing some muted moans, and he was about to erupt when a cloud of reason descended upon him. He couldn’t leave any evidence of his being in the room, and that most certainly included seminal remnants. He reluctantly stopped the task at hand. I won’t have to wait too long. Once I have him all to myself, none of this will be necessary. We’ll have each other for our pleasure. Rodrigo rose from the bed, put his cock back in his jeans, made the bed back the way he found it, but he kept the pillowcase. The housekeeper will just have to take the blame. So what if she didn’t steal it? He looked at his watch. It was already late afternoon. He had a class later that evening, but there was somewhere else more important he had to be. He got into his car and drove through the canyon road to the get to the San Fernando Valley. It was in this part of Los Angeles that he went into a nondescript warehouse, the basement of which was where he had Tristan chained to a pipe in the wall.

48 HOURS EARLIER… TAYLOR’S TASTEFUL SALON, WEST HOLLYWOOD, EVENING

Priscilla had just left the memorial, kissing Nathan goodbye. She hated seeing him so grief-stricken and wished she could have been more comforting to him and Siobhan. She had used so much energy dealing with poor Austin, who was now more driven than ever to rally support against Prop 8. Looking at her watch she saw that it was still early evening, and as she had her digital camera in her purse, she decided to pay Taylor Smith a visit. She arrived just as Taylor had closed shop, flipping the CLOSED sign into view.

Priscilla (banging on the glass door): Taylor! Let me in!

Taylor (through the glass): Bitch, can’t you read? We’re closed.

Priscilla (withdrawing a flask from her purse and ostentatiously dangling it): I thought we might talk.

Taylor (immediately unlocking and opening the door, snatching flask from Priscilla): On second thought, it has been a long day. (takes a quick swig)

Priscilla (coming inside): I’m just getting back from Nathan’s father’s memorial. I feel so bad for him.

Taylor: Don’t you mean horny for him?

Priscilla (taking back flask): That, too! He’s such a—

Taylor: Fine piece of ass that I wouldn’t mind—

Priscilla: What? Fucking? If so that would make you a man!

Taylor (snatching back flask): Stop trying to put words in my mouth. And stop trying to figure out what’s between these legs.

Priscilla (withdrawing camera from her purse): Speaking of body parts, I thought you’d like to see what our Casanova’s packing. (shows her image she took of Tristan’s cock) As you can see, he’s quite gifted.

Taylor: He is. (a Cheshire grin coming over Taylor’s face) But, bitch, you must be crazy if you think I’m buying the shit you’re pulling.

Priscilla: What do you mean?

Taylor: That’s not Vincenzo’s cock.

Priscilla: Yes, it is. I took it myself.

Taylor: You really must think I’m dumb.

Priscilla: That’s besides the point. You’re just mad I got to him before you did.

Taylor: Priscilla, I saw Vincenzo’s cock last night, and I’m telling you that ain’t it.

Priscilla: And just how did you see it?

Taylor: I paid, of course. (seeing Priscilla’s surprised expression) Our Casanova is the newest go-go boy at OUTRAGE club. I slipped him $20 to take a peek, and you know I never forget a cock. That said, Bitch, don’t try any shit like that on me again… although I will take a copy of that one.

Priscilla (sitting down in chair): Okay, you got me. I guess I don’t have my mojo anymore.

Taylor (sitting next to her): I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. You’re LA’s most notorious cougar. You could land any man you want. (gesturing to the camera) So who’s the owner of that anaconda?

Priscilla (nonchalantly): Oh, just one of my many conquests. (smiling to herself with the secret that while Taylor may have seen Vincenzo’s package, she was at least keeping the exploits in the Bersani family)

BRENDON AND NATHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, NIGHT

Brendon came home exhausted and emotionally drained. It had been too painful for him to witness Nathan hold back tears as he, Kyle, and Allison each had taken to the podium to say their remarks about Seamus. He had wanted to be next to Nathan and comfort him through this tragedy; it was tearing him apart inside to know that Nathan didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Pouring himself a drink, he sat down and stared at a photo of them together, taken during a cruise, the beauty of the ocean behind them. How I wish we could return to those days. Everything was so peaceful then. We were secure in our love for each other. We did everything together… running those coastal relay races. You always wanted to do those 100 mile-plus runs. You were always such a show-off. Where did we go wrong? How can we get back to those times again? Of course that was before Justin came into our lives.

The thought of his son jarred him from his reverie. Going to the foot of the stairs, he shouted out to him. Not getting a response, he started mounting the steps, knocked on the door, and called out Justin’s name again with no answer.

Brendon: Justin, we’re going to have to talk about this. (his hand twisting the knob, finding it locked) Justin, open this door. (his hand slamming against the door) I said open it. Now, young man!

He persisted banging and shouting before getting the key and entering the room. Finding it empty, he didn’t think much of it at first. He’s probably still out. It was nearing ten. Deciding to wait for him, Brendon went back downstairs to finish his drink. He had two more of them before slumber stole over him around one in the morning.

SAN FERNANDO VALLEY WAREHOUSE, NIGHT

Tristan had a splitting headache when he came to. It took a while for his vision to adjust to the dim lighting of his surroundings. There was a huge pile of boxes gathered in the corner, yet there was space around him. The room felt stuffy. He saw an old blow fan in the opposite corner. He tried to move but found that his hands were bound, the ropes too tight around his wrists.

Tristan: Help!

Rodrigo (speaking from a darkened corner): No one can hear you except me.

Tristan: Let me go! Untie these!

Rodrigo (emerging from the shadows): How does it feel to be helpless?

Tristan: I’m not into BDSM. If this shit is your idea of fun—

Rodrigo (cutting him off): Did you think it fun earlier today when you knocked Callum over those tables in the restaurant?

Tristan: I get it now. You’re sending me a message from Callum. He put you up to this.

Rodrigo: He knows nothing about this. It was all my idea to teach you a lesson. Callum doesn’t deserve your kind of treatment.

Tristan: Look, Rodrigo, I’m sorry about that. (pause) Okay, now will you untie me?

Rodrigo: You think a simple apology is enough to erase all the stuff you’ve done.

Tristan (still trying to free himself): What do you want? Sex?

Rodrigo (laughing): You can’t fuck your way out of this. You’re going to pay for all the things you’ve done to Callum from the insults to kidnapping his son.

Tristan: I didn’t do that!

Rodrigo (noticing him moving): I would conserve your energy if I were you. You have a long night ahead of you.

Tristan: Let me go! (Rodrigo goes behind him and ties a bandana around Tristan’s neck and mouth)

Rodrigo: I’m sorry I have to cut this short, but I must get back to Callum. He’s leaving out in the morning. (hearing Tristan mumble) Did you say something? It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow’s Judgment Day for you. I’d spend the night praying for a miracle. (rises to leave, switches off light, plunging Tristan in total darkness, the last sound he hears is Tristan whimpering)

SHADY PALMS REHABILITATION CENTER, MALIBU, NEXT MORNING

Heath had a good night’s sleep, awaking with revived spirits. He had dismissed Trey’s threats, fully accepting what Lindsay had told him the past evening. He’s just afraid he’ll get kicked out of rehab for having sex with that nurse. But what good is it doing him to be here anyway? He’s mot making any progress from what I can see, and I’ve only known of him for a little over three weeks. I hope he doesn’t show up at group, though. He really doesn’t contribute much to anything. Heath had an energizing breakfast before meeting with Dr. Shoai, who was pleased to see his drawing of the fruit tree, which prompted vibrant discussion about Kyle and consequently Tristan. Darren Hayes’ “I Just Want You to Love Me” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zpm7IBy6Fcc) plays softly in the background of the scene as Heath thinks about the two men in his life.

Dr. Shoai: So he wanted you to come to Italy with him?

Heath: Granted it was for a funeral, but it was his intention for me to accompany him thousands of miles away. (questioningly) That’s got to count for something, right?

Dr. Shoai: What do you mean?

Heath: Well, you just don’t ask someone to come back to your home country with you unless it’s serious.

Dr. Shoai: Perhaps. (interlacing his fingers) His friend’s death hit him hard, and he needed the emotional support of those around him. You were the closest person to him.

Heath (tears coming to his eyes): He was upset with me for not comforting him. I just couldn’t be near him so soon after what “they” did to me.

Dr. Shoai: You think he would have harmed you?

Heath (dismissively): No, Tristan is not like that.

Dr. Shoai: And yet you felt he would have abandoned the relationship had he known you were sexually assaulted.

Heath: He would have seen me as damaged goods. How could he love something—someone—like that? I may have an incurable disease. He wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Dr. Shoai: So you put his feelings—or what you assumed to be his—before your own? (seeing Heath bow his head and wipe away the tears) You felt he wouldn’t want a life with you yet days before your other friend proposed to you outside the medical clinic. You said he didn’t care if you were infected—that he wanted a life with you.

Heath: That’s different.

Dr. Shoai: How? You had one man who knew the whole truth and was still willing to be with you, whereas the other has left you in doubt about the security of your relationship.

Heath: Don’t pit one against the other. They’re both incredible men.

Dr. Shoai: Heath, it’s not my intent to make one look better than the other. I know you love them equally, but I want you to really look at what’s going on.

Heath: I told Lindsay Tristan was my husband. I can’t stop the lies, Doc.

Dr. Shoai: Have you spoken with either of them?

Heath: I couldn’t bare talking to them. I have to make things right with myself first. Kyle has enough on his plate, and well, Tristan—he’s probably in Italy with his new boyfriend.

Dr. Shoai: Pardon?

Heath: Oh, that’s right. I didn’t tell you. Tristan went to Italy with Talon, the guy he brought home and fucked just to spite me.

Dr. Shoai: You seem to have some unresolved issues about Tristan’s fidelity. I would like for you to channel that into your art therapy.

And so Heath ended his session with yet another assignment that would further help him come to an enlightening realization about himself.

KYLE’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, MIDMORNING

Bralen told his secretary he would be in later that day, kissed Kyle, and rose from the bed. Last night had been another wonderful experience for him with Kyle. Bralen loved the strength of his arms. They were like a fortress of warmth, protecting him from the horrors of the outside world. The love they had made last night was very romantic, Kyle’s kisses such a memorable part that Bralen didn’t want to ever leave. Kyle’s such a good lover. When he’s in the mood for love, it just all comes together. He’s a man who knows how to bring it home. I’m tempted to say he’s better than Tristan, but whatever Tristan lacked in romantic tenderness, Kyle more than makes up for it. But where is Tristan? He knows that Heath is alive and in rehab. If he tells Kyle, I don’t know what would happen. Would he suddenly forget all about us?

Bralen went into the kitchen to put on some coffee. He called Tristan’s phone and left him a message. Just as he finished doing that, there came a knock at the door. At once he thought it was Tristan coming to tell Kyle the truth. He was relieved and surprised to see it was Brendon.

Brendon (noticing shirtless Bralen answering the door): What are you doing here?

Bralen (snappishly): And good morning to you, too.

Brendon: I need to speak with Kyle. Is he here?

Bralen: Hold on. (he disappears down the hall and moments later returns with Kyle, also shirtless)

Kyle (rubbing his eyes): Brendon, what is it?

Brendon: I didn’t know whom else to go to. Justin’s missing again.

Kyle (gruffly): And what do you want me to do about it?

Brendon: Well, you’re the police. I thought—

Kyle: You thought what? I’d help you out with your miscreant son.

Bralen: Son? I thought he was your—

Brendon (turning to him): Do you mind butting out of this? And while you’re at, put some clothes on! (turning back to Kyle) From your tone, I can only assume you’ve spoken with Nathan.

Kyle: Yeah, and he told me everything. How Justin tried to harm him not once but twice, the most recent being the night before last.

Brendon: Listen, Kyle—

Kyle: No, you listen, Brendon. I told you weeks ago that Justin should be sent off. I know his type, and they’re nothing but trouble.

Brendon: I thought he had changed.

Kyle (getting in Brendon’s face, trying to keep his voice low): He tried to kill my best friend—the man you supposedly love—and you tried to cover it up! I think you’ve got your priorities mixed up.

Brendon: Look, Kyle, I don’t need a lecture. I know what I did was wrong, but Justin’s family.

Kyle: And that’s supposed to excuse what he’s done?

Brendon: N-No, he’s done some bad things to Nathan, but Kyle, I love them both. Justin simply needs some discipline.

Kyle: He needs help.

Brendon: Then help me find him.

Kyle (sighing): How long has he been gone?

Brendon: He didn’t come home last night.

Kyle: it’s too early to file a missing person’s report.

Brendon (throwing up his hands): So you’re not going to help me? I know you’re upset with me about Nathan, but don’t take this out on—

Kyle: Nate deserves much better.

Brendon: Pardon me?

Kyle: You heard me. He didn’t deserve the treatment he got from Justin while you stood idly by and let it happen. You’re as much to blame for this.

Brendon (shouting): Look, I love Nathan.

Kyle (shouting back, the noise drawing Bralen’s attention, tempting him to eavesdrop from other room): You have a funny way of showing it, keeping secrets from him.

Brendon (raking his hands through his hair): I’m tired of people saying that shit. I know what I did was wrong but that doesn’t change how I feel about Nate. (coming closer to Kyle) I love him with all my heart, and yes, I did keep secrets from him, but I did that because I was scared of losing him. Nathan’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Wouldn’t you be afraid of losing the person that matters you most?

Kyle (sotto voce): I already have.

Brendon: I haven’t been the same since he’s walked away from our relationship. I can say from experience that when you feel loveless, you do crazy things to hold onto someone you do love.

Bralen (moved by Brendon’s words, whispers to himself): I know what you mean.

Brendon: You may not be able to forgive me, but in my heart, I am sure of one thing, and that’s my love for Nathan. So will you help me or not?

Kyle (clearing his throat from the emotional buildup in his system as a result of Brendon’s sappy words): I’ll see what I can do.

Bralen (coming into the room, to Kyle): I have to get back to Malibu. (to Brendon) I hope you find Justin.

Brendon: Thanks.

Both Bralen and Kyle had been moved by Brendon’s rebuttal, his words ringing true in both their cases. Kyle related to it by way of his feelings for Heath, a love of such strength that Kyle still though of him even as he was trying to start a new relationship. Bralen related to it by way of his own devious tactics to keep Kyle to himself and away from Heath. Brendon, for all his persuasive talking, left content with securing Kyle’s help but oddly felt insecure about the prospect of getting Nathan to return his emotions.

MOYNIHAN FAMILY HOME, ASHAROKEN, LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK, EVENING

Callum’s plane arrived in JFK International Airport with one hour delay, and it likewise took him another two hours to get to Moynihan residence out in Long Island. He hated all the unnecessary traveling, having wanted to get a hotel in Manhattan, but as Nathan insisted he stay with him in his family home, he couldn’t turn him down. By the time he made there, it was evening, but Nathan’s megawatt smile brightened Callum’s spirits.

Nathan: How was your flight?

Callum: Bumpy.

Nathan (helping to take his luggage): You couldn’t handle the turbulence? (winking at him)

Callum: I’ll have you know I can handle much—(moving in to kiss him but doesn’t get chance)

Siobhan (coming into room, Callum pulls away from Nathan): Oh, you’ve finally made it. We’ve already had dinner. I made a plate for you. It’s in the oven.

Nathan: Ma, that was kind of you, but I’m sure Callum—

Siobhan: What? He only has gourmet food?

Callum: I ate on the plane, Mrs. Moynihan. Besides, I had too much to drink. I’m tired and should sleep well tonight.

Siobhan: Let me show you to your room.

Nathan: I can do it, Ma.

Siobhan: Fine. I’ll tend to the dishes. (leaves the room)

Nathan (coming over to Callum): Thanks for coming.

Callum (hugging him): I know that it means much to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back in LA.

Nathan: Don’t worry about that. You were busy with Rodrigo. That was very nice of you to be there for him during his time of need.

Callum (holding his hand): And now I’m here for you. (looking into his eyes) How about a tour of this lovely house? And then you can take me to the bedroom.

Nathan (cracking a smile): About that… (hesitantly) I think we should hold off on anything, especially with Ma around. She even has you sleeping in my sister Sinead’s room. (seeing Callum sigh) I know, but it’s only for a little while.

Callum: Could you at least tuck me in? (winking)

Nathan: You just won’t stop. (smiling) Okay, let’s go upstairs.

Siobhan (coming into room): Nattie, the dishwasher’s acting up. Would you have a look at it?

Nathan gives Callum a brief glance before reluctantly agreeing, and as he leaves to help his mother, she and Callum exchange looks. Damn that shrew! I’ve spent three months trying to get into his pants, cock-blocked at every opportunity by that troll Allison. Now that she’s three thousand miles away, her wrinkled doppelganger is fast at work here!

SAN FERNANDO VALLEY WAREHOUSE, EARLIER THAT DAY

Tristan had been in pain and shock all day. When he woke to the sound of the door unlocking, he braced himself for Rodrigo’s entrance, clearly remembering his threat from last night. He was surprised to see two tattooed thug-like men when the bandana was removed. I guess they’re with Rodrigo. What the hell is he up to? One of them untied the ropes around his wrists.

Thug #1 (withdrawing gun): Don’t try anything funny.

Tristan: Why are you doing this?

Thug #2: Just shut the fuck up!

They took Tristan to the bathroom to pee, one of them devilishly looking at his penis as he relieved himself. The other then threw a bag at him, which contained some snack foods and bottled water, both of which Tristan voraciously devoured and drank. He didn’t dare try to escape, for the one thug had the gun on him at all times. When he had finished eating, they tied him back up and left. Tristan took solace in the fact that the ropes weren’t as tight but still not loose enough for him to escape. It was several more hours before Rodrigo entered, the sound of Basement Jaxx’s classic “Where’s Your Head At” playing in the background.

Rodrigo: Did you miss me, Lover?

Tristan: Fuck you!

Rodrigo: I bet you wish you could right now.

Tristan: Let me go! Now!

Rodrigo: You’re not calling the shots, Tristan! (withdrawing gun and placing it against Tristan’s right temple) I am.

Tristan (scared): Okay! Okay!

Rodrigo (bursting out into hysterical laughter): I knew you’d see things my way.

Tristan: Please! Put the gun away. (Rodrigo obediently moves it away several inches, prompting Tristan to release a sigh of relief, beads of perspiration rolling down his forehead) W-Why are you doing this?

Rodrigo: I told you why. All the things you’ve done to Callum, especially kidnapping his son.

Tristan: I told you I didn’t do that.

In one quick movement, Rodrigo had crouched down and placed the gun under Tristan’s chin. He could feel the hard steel against his skin. He closed his eyes, but that did little to stop the tears from coming to them. Sweat immediately gushed from every pore on his body as he feared his brains would be blown.

Rodrigo: Don’t you fucking lie to me! (jamming It farther into the soft skin under Tristan’s chin, making him raise it higher) I was down by the river and saw you collect the ransom. You kidnapped him, you bastard! Admit it!

Tristan’s nose had by this point started running, leaving his entire face a mess of tears, snot, and sweat. To Rodrigo’s question he remained silent, his few whimpers and sniffles his only response.

Rodrigo: Do you know what that shit does to a kid? I was taken from my mother when I was eight. The sick bastard said he was my mother’s friend. The stuff he did—(he rises from the floor, feverishly rakes his hand through his hair)

Tristan breathed a sigh of relief as Rodrigo had placed some distance between them. This did nothing to tame his racing heart. He silently prayed for salvation as he knew there was no reasoning with the mentally unbalanced man before him. Tristan jumped back when Rodrigo aimed the gun at a box and pulled the trigger. Hardly a sound was made but Tristan saw where a hole materialized in the side of the box before it fell to the ground.

Rodrigo: People like you and Nathan don’t deserve to live after the things you’ve both done to children. Molestation and kidnapping! (rushes up to Tristan, forces the gun into his mouth) Give me one fucking reason to spare your life! (pulls the gun out)

Tristan (through tears): I didn’t do it. I swear to God! It was Chloe. She took him.

Rodrigo: Then why were you at the river? Why did you take the money?

Tristan (crying): I swear to you I didn’t take the baby. When I found out she had taken him, I only wanted to see if could get some money out of Callum. (feeling the gun pressed against his head) I’m telling you the truth! I would never intentionally harm a child! Please! (feeling snot and sweat roll into his mouth) Please! You’ve got to believe me!

Rodrigo (removing the gun as he sees Tristan pee on himself): Even if you didn’t take him, you’re just as guilty, taking advantage of his kidnapping. (suddenly his phone rings, he sees it’s from Callum) Excuse me. (leaves the room and returns minutes later, a smile on his face)

Tristan: Please don’t kill me!

Rodrigo: I’ve had enough of you for tonight. You’re lucky that Callum called and put me in a good mood. I don’t want your death to be the last thing on my mind as I go to bed. (putting gun away) I’ll see you tomorrow. (leaves the room and Tristan begins uncontrollably crying)

AUSTIN AND DRAKE’S HOME, WEST HOLLYWOOD, NIGHT

Austin had been home for a day, and the place felt completely empty without Drake. His family was being very distant with him regarding Drake’s status, but Austin felt in his heart that Drake was still alive. You may not be able to talk to anyone, but you do speak to me in my dreams and in my heart. I believe we’ll be back together soon. In the meantime, I’ll do everything I can to make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. He had really thrown himself into the prep for the Against Prop 8 event. He had been speaking with Jeremy Dodd and all the key people involved with the program. He even surprisingly found Lindsay Slocumb to be a delightful person in spite of all he had read about her. She seemed fiercely determined to promote the event with her celebrity and strike down all the haters.

On this particular night Allison had come over to discuss the event as time was drawing nearer to it. He likewise saw a different side to her character the more he interacted with her. They had just finished talking about the event when she got up to refill her coffee.

Allison (pouring it into her cup): I’m sure you got the email I sent to the club earlier today.

Austin: I did. So you’re moving forward with the Echo Park Staircase run? That was my suggestion. As the new president you didn’t have to go through with it.

Allison: I know. (coming over and sitting down next to him) But a good president is open to everything. (patting his hand) Besides, I think it’s a good idea. It would expose the club to different areas of LA.

Austin: Thanks, Allison. (tears coming to his eyes)

Allison (gently): Austin, please don’t.

Austin: You’ve been so kind and helpful to me throughout all this.

Allison: I’m not doing what any other Outrunner wouldn’t do for someone in your situation. We rally together and support one another.

Austin (wiping eyes): I was all wrong about you.

Allison: Most people are.

Austin: Especially Callum.

Allison: Please don’t ruin the evening bringing up his name. And just so you know I’m shooting down the idea of a new run along the Venice Beach canals.

Austin (laughing): Point well taken. (pause) Thanks for even coming to Drake’s rescue then. No matter how cruel I got with you, you were always great to him. (breaks down crying) Oh, Allison, I miss him so much. (Allison takes him into her arms for a hug) I-I just don’t understand how this happened. Why would he do something like this?

At that moment, Allison’s conscience gripped her. She had been fighting an internal battle ever since she had last spoken with Drake, delivering him the bad news which had compelled him to attempt taking his own life. As she looked at Austin reduced to tears, she knew she couldn’t keep it from him any longer. Medical ethics aside, he deserves to know. I owe it to them both.

Allison: Austin, there’s something I need to tell you. I may know why Drake did this to himself.

Austin (looking at her with reddened eyes): You do?

Allison (taking a deep breath): Earlier that day, I-I had told Drake—(pause)—that he had contracted HIV.

She would spend most of the night trying to console Austin.

TRISTAN’S APARTMENT, WEST HOLLYWOOD, THE NEXT MORNING

Vincenzo awoke to the sound of banging on the door. He pushed aside the soft, delicate hand that was resting on his bronzed chest along with the other one that was lying atop his crotch. As he rose completely naked, he threw the sheet back over the person that had been sleeping next to him, an audible sigh heard from under the blanketed lump. He rushed out the room, grabbing a robe and loosely throwing it about him as the banging continued.

Vincenzo (shouting): Okay! Okay! (throwing open the door) It’s you!

Estrella (pushing inside): Yes, it’s me. Where’s your brother?

Vincenzo: I don’t know. He’s not been home for the last two nights.

Estrella: We were supposed to meet last night. (suddenly seeing Vincenzo’s meaty, thick cock hanging between the two sides of the loose robe) H-Have you hard—I mean “heard”—from him?

Vincenzo: No. (following her gaze to his groin) Is there a problem?

Estrella: Not from what I can see.

Vincenzo (purposely shifting so that the fat bulb of his cock head pops out in full view): Do you want to leave him a message?

Estrella: Y-Yeah. (finally raising her head, her eyesight in line with his sexy and flirtatious face) H-Have him call me when you see him.

Vincenzo: Will do, Bella.

Estrella (nearly going weak in the knees): Ciao!

He tightened the sash of the robe and saw her to the door. Once outside the apartment, she took a deep breath. Damn! What do they feed those boys back in Italy? They’re so gifted. Perhaps it’s time for me to go back there. She had started moving again and, in her reverie of a sun-drenched Italian holiday surrounded by handsome, well-hung men, she accidentally bumped into someone, knocking them aside, their purse falling to the ground.

Priscilla: Hey! Watch where you’re going!

Estrella (reaching down to pick up the woman’s purse): I’m sorry.

When the purse had hit the ground, her digital camera fell out, the impact turning it on, an image of Priscilla and Tristan freeze-framed. It was the one of her next to him on the apartment couch from a few days back when they were both drunk, her lips were firmly pressed against his cheeks. Estrella’s eyes caught a glimpse of it, and an exclamation burst from her lips.

Estrella: What the hell is this?

Priscilla: Hey! Hand that back to me. (tries to reach for it, but Estrella jerks it away)

Estrella (her fingers pressing the control for the pictorial history): Oh my God! You have pictures of his—

Priscilla: Who are you to be going through my stuff like that?

Estrella: Tristan is my—

Priscilla: Your what? He’s gay, you know.

Estrella: What are you doing with pictures of him like this?

Priscilla: That’s none of your business. Besides, a lady never tells.

Estrella (laughing): Lady? You should have stopped saying that back in the 80’s.

Priscilla: You tart! Just who do you think you are? I saw you coming out of his apartment. You’re wasting your time.

Estrella: It’s you who’s wasting time if you think either of those boys would hop into bed with a cougar like you.

Priscilla: I’ll have you know I’ve converted several gay men onto my side.

Estrella: Yeah, only after you got them drunk and chained up.

Priscilla: That sounds more your style. I’m more a woman with class.

Estrella (her eyes sweeping Priscilla from top to bottom): And plenty of ass to spare!

Priscilla: You trollop! (turning to go) I’ll come back once he’s fully thrown out the trash.

Estrella (shouting at her retreating figure): He’s not here anyway. (suddenly rushes up to her) You haven’t seen him, have you? According to his brother, he hasn’t been home in two nights.

Priscilla (calming down): Honey, it’s Tristano Bersani we’re talking about. He’s probably off still boinking some lucky guy’s ass. Granted it should be mine, but I’m not mad at him. The boy’s so damn fine that—yeah!—I even have thought about chaining his ass up in my home basement.

With that said, Ms. Priscilla Ashland sashayed to her car, got inside, and sped off.

MOYNIHAN FAMILY HOME, ASHAROKEN, LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK, MIDDAY

Nathan and Siobhan were in the sunroom, a worried expression on her face as she had just ended a phone call with her late husband’s financial advisor. She was in the middle of a talk with her son.

Siobhan: It doesn’t make any sense… not in this economy.

Nathan: Ma, Dad got smarter in his later years. We both know how tight he could get.

Siobhan: Nathan, it’s over half a million dollars in that one account. Your father wasn’t that shrewd!

Nathan: So what are you implying? That dad started back gambling in Atlantic City?

Siobhan: Heavens no! I thank the good Lord your father ended that addiction when he did.

Nathan: Then what’s your concern?

Siobhan: It’s just that I swear our savings in that particular account wasn’t that much the last time I looked at it. I don’t know where all this money came from. (looking over to see Callum standing in the doorway, she starts, and he moves away into the shadows, out of her sight)

Nathan: Ma, it’s probably nothing. Knowing you, the last time you looked into that account was during the Reagan administration. (looking outside) It’s a beautiful day. I think I’ll take a quick swim. (goes over to kiss his mother, takes off his shirt, and starts to exit through the French doors to the pool outside)

Siobhan (stopping him): Hey, take that off before you go in! (unhooks the locket around his neck, puts it on the table as he goes outside, closing the door behind him)

Callum (coming into the room): I hope I—

Siobhan: Don’t you know it’s impolite to eavesdrop?

Callum: It’s only eavesdropping if the other person doesn’t know about it. You knew I was blatantly listening in.

Siobhan (balking): Such impudence won’t be tolerated in my home, young man!

Callum (crossing to the window): Then please accept my apology, Mrs. Moynihan. (releasing a deep sigh of longing as he sees Nathan’s muscular body swimming in the pool outside)

Siobhan: I can see you’ve taken an unhealthy liking to my son.

Callum (turning around to face her): What’s so unhealthy about it? We care very much for each other.

Siobhan: He cares for Brendon.

Callum (laughing to himself): That ship has sailed… well, more like shipwrecked. He won’t be going back to Brendon, and I suggest you accept that… no matter how much you pray for their reunion. (picks up the locket on the table)

Siobhan (crossing to him): How dare you speak that way to me in my home! (snatching the locket from him) And I would appreciate your not touching priceless family heirlooms.

Callum: I’m assuming you don’t tolerate liars in your home, either… yet if you were to look in the mirror, you’d see one. (feeling the crack on his cheeks as Siobhan slaps him)

Siobhan (angrily): I want you out of this house. (puts down locket) I don’t care if my son invited you.

Callum: Allow me to explain myself.

Siobhan: There’s no suitable explanation.

Callum: There is indeed. You’re as much a liar as your husband. (going over to pick up locket once more) We both know this doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to my family… or rather my in-laws.

Siobhan: What are you on about?

Callum: Allow me to introduce myself. You know me as Callum Sutcliffe, but I married into the Armitage family. I’m sure you know my harpy of a mother-in-law. Does the name Eleanor Burnham Armitage ring a bell? (seeing Siobhan’s face blanch) It’s amazing how everyone has the same reaction to that venomous cow. If I’m correct, you haven’t seen her in some time. (reaching into his pocket)

Siobhan: N-No, I-I haven’t. (handed a miniature photo)

Callum: It’s a family portrait, taken over a year ago at the behest of my late husband. He’s the one to the left of Eleanor. (pause) Did she look that way when you last saw her? I’m told vampires don’t really age.

Siobhan (the photo slips from her hands, falls to the floor as she grabs onto back of chair to brace herself as she feels weak in the knees): W-What do you want? You can have the locket back.

Callum: That’s Eleanor’s junk… one of her many trinkets. I could care less you nicked it from her. (bending down to pick up the photo)

Siobhan: Then why are you here?

Callum: Isn’t it obvious? (seeing tears in her eyes) Your husband was extorting money from mine! That’s why you have a nice retirement nest egg. Now someone has to pay for that.

Siobhan: Your family has millions. Why can’t you just—(tears flowing over her cheeks)

Callum: You know why I can’t just turn away.

Siobhan: It’s always about money with you lot!

Callum: You’ll hardly leave this world a peasant. Seamus saw to that.

Siobhan (suddenly dawning on her): Did you---?

Callum (coolly): No, I didn’t. Your husband just couldn’t handle the truth. His heart—that is if the bastard even had one—couldn’t take the pressure of his conscience. His death is not on my hands.

The eminent Edith Piaf’s “Non Je Ne Regrette Rien” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YGXsw3XK9I) begins playing softly in the background of the scene, replaying throughout until its conclusion.

Siobhan: Please just go. Leave us alone. You can have the money. I don’t want it.

Callum: Neither do I. As you said, I have millions.

Siobhan (shouting): Then what is it? What do you want?

Callum (his eyes going to the window): I want Nathan.

Siobhan (wiping away tears): No. I won’t lose my son to you.

Callum (laughing): You really haven’t a choice in this.

Siobhan: I’m not scared of you.

Callum (withdrawing his cell): Perhaps I should ring Eleanor. Have her hop on the next flight over—or her broom, whichever is quicker. She’ll arrive just in time for Seamus’ memorial. (ostentatiously holds up phone, fingers positioned on the button) Then you two can get reacquainted.

Siobhan (falling onto sofa): No, that won’t be necessary. Please! For the love of God, please don’t do this!

Callum (sitting next to her): Why should I show you any mercy? Seamus didn’t towards Gavin. Why shouldn’t Eleanor know about your dirty secrets? For that matter, why shouldn’t Nathan know you and Seamus as the thieves you are? You two have stolen so much already. It’s time to pay the price.

Siobhan (forcefully taking his hand): I’m begging you. Please! (her eyes red from crying as the tears stream from them) I never meant any harm. What Seamus did was wrong, but this would kill Nathan if he—

Callum: I know it would. And if I didn’t love him…

Siobhan (rising): You’d have killed him, too. (turning to him, anger in her eyes) Just like you did my husband. I don’t believe one word out your mouth!

Callum: Call me a liar all you want, but I do love Nathan.

Siobhan (skeptically): I bet you do. (sotto voce) And we both know why.

Callum: I’m growing tired of this little tête-à-tête. Let’s settle on some simple terms, shall we? You keep out of my affairs with Nathan, and I’ll see to it that you’re kept out of prison. That sounds fair. Agreed?

Siobhan didn’t have time to give an answer, for Nathan came inside the room, drying his hair with a towel, his partially nude and desirable body in full view. His swimming trunks were dripping water onto the floor.

Nathan: Ma, is everything okay? You look a bit flustered.

Siobhan (taking a quick sideways glance at Callum): I—I was—

Callum: We were just talking about what a good man your father was, and she got a little worked up. I was just about to get her some brandy when you came in.

Nathan: Thanks for looking after her, Callum.

Callum (looking him in the eyes): Anything for you, Nathan. (he moves in to kiss him)

Nathan (granting him a quick kiss before pulling away): C-Callum, what about what we discussed?

Callum: What? (turning to Siobhan) You mean your mum? She’s fine with us. We had a nice heart-to-heart. She knows the importance of family… and how much I want to make you happy.

Nathan: Is that right, Ma?

Siobhan (hesitantly, looking at Callum): Y-Yes. (suddenly snapping out her daze) Nattie, you’re dripping water on my hardwood floors.

Nathan: Sorry, Ma. (rushes to kiss her) Thanks for coming round to respecting my decisions. (turns to Callum) And thank you. (rushes from the room)

Callum (staring at Siobhan): The pleasure’s all mine. (turns on his heel to leave, seeing the puddle of water on the floor) And, Siobhan, please have that mess cleaned soon. We wouldn’t want any more accidents to happen. (leaves the room)

Siobhan collapsed on the couch and profusely cried to herself. Callum went to his room, a smile on his face. I couldn’t have planned this better. Now no one will get in the way of me getting what I want.

MICHELANGELO’S TRATTORIA, BEVERLY HILLS, MIDDAY

Talon and his nephew Iain were dining alfresco at a swanky Italian restaurant for lunch. Iain was decked out entirely in black with the exception of his Doc Martens which had yellow intermixed with black. He was in stark contrast to his uncle, who wore khakis, a red polo shirt, and penny loafers, looking as if he had stepped out the pages of Gentleman’s Quarterly.

Iain (leaning back in his chair, now on its hind legs): Thanks for lunch, Uncle Tal.

Talon: Consider it payment for my not visiting you when I was last here. It mustn’t be easy living on your own here in Los Angeles.

Iain: It isn’t, but Aunt Evelyn’s inheritance has been a godsend.

Talon: When was the last time you spoke with Errol?

Iain: Your brother won’t have anything to do with me. I’m disowned, remember?

Talon: He no doubt blames me as an influence for your—

Iain (testily bringing the chair’s legs back to the ground): My what?

Talon (hesitantly): Y-Your homosexuality.

Iain: I’m not gay. I hate labels.

Talon: That’s understandable.

Iain: You think I’m a freak as well.

Talon: No, I don’t. You’re my nephew, and I love you. I don’t care if you’re a Goth, Emo…

Iain (crankily): I told you I hate labels.

Talon: How about we change the subject? How’s school? You told me Enid’s there now. How’s that?

Iain (matter-of-factly): I give it another week before she’s expelled.

Talon (immediately concerned): It’s not drugs, is it?

Iain: Heavens no! She’s got this bloke living in her dorm with her. He’s a total prat, and if the Housing Board learns of it, she’s sure to get into trouble.

Talon: Who is this person?

Iain: Some skateboard loser chav who’s taking advantage of her.

Talon (sighing and raking his hand through his hair): Just what Callum needs.

Iain: Are you still pining over him? I remember when you two would snog in front of me when I was eleven.

Talon: I hope you didn’t tell Errol that.

Iain: I don’t care what Dad thinks and neither should you. But I remember it so well because you two were so in love back then. (seeing forlorn expression on Talon’s face) He really hurt you when he left you for that ponce. What was his name again?

Talon: Gavin. (looking up to see Godfrey coming out of a shop next door, their eyes instantly locking)

Godfrey (coming over): Mr. Prescott, I was unaware you were back in town.

Talon (caught off guard): I-I’m here temporarily for business… a conference. H-How’s Callum?

Godfrey (glancing from Talon to Iain): He’s presently out of town.

Talon: Where are my manners? Godfrey, this is my nephew Iain Prescott. Iain, this is Godfrey. He works for Callum. (they shake hands, Godfrey somewhat unsure what to make of Iain’s appearance) Iain is a film student at USC.

Godfrey: How charming!

Talon: Er, Godfrey, I trust that you won’t tell Callum you saw me.

Godfrey: You can rest assured that I won’t. (seeing Talon’s facial response) You did hurt him rather badly with your duplicity. I trust your stay here will indeed be short-lived. Have a pleasant day. (turns to leave)

Iain (whistling): What was that about?

Talon: Nothing with which you should concern yourself.

Iain: Why don’t you want Callum to know you’re back?

Talon: I need time to get to him. I need to make a game plan. I’m not messing it up this time.

Iain (checking his watch): I’ve got to get back to campus.

Talon (admonishingly): Remember to keep quiet about me around Enid.

Iain: She already thinks you two are back together.

Talon: With any luck we will be soon.

ALLISON’S OFFICE, HOLLYWOOD HOSPITAL, EVENING

Having had a very busy day, Allison was ready to go home for some much-needed rest. She had spent much time last night with Austin, who was full of questions after she made the revelation. He naturally had gone into a state of denial, not wanting to believe a word of what she said. The hardest part was suggesting that he likewise get tested. To this he adamantly refused, claiming his mind was otherwise engaged in event planning, and he couldn’t be bothered with something that monumental right now. He eventually consented to being tested after the event.

I have to give him credit. He really wants this event to be successful. I hope all his hard work pays off. I never thought I would say this of Austin Monroe, but I’m genuinely proud of him. There came a knock at her door, and Allison found the beaming face of Jeremy Dodd greeting her on the other end. Lifehouse’s “Whatever It Takes” begins playing in the background as he enters and they start talking.

Jeremy: Good evening, Allison. (she hugs him) I figured you would be here at this hour.

Allison (laughing): You know me well.

Jeremy: Yeah, you are a workaholic. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for all you help with the event. You and Austin have become quite the team.

Allison: We’re both dedicated to the cause.

Jeremy: Well, it is the civil rights movement of this millennium. So how are you otherwise?

Allison: I’m fine.

Jeremy: And Chloe? How’s she? I haven’t seen you two together in ages.

Allison: It’s complicated.

Jeremy: How so?

Allison: We’ve had arguments, and—it’s nothing really.

Jeremy: Allison, I can tell you’re lonely. At the last meeting I could see the despair in your face.

Allison: Jeremy!

Jeremy: And don’t tell me it’s about Drake. What happened to him was awful, but you forget I can read you and Nathan like a book. There’s no holding back anything from me.

Allison: I should have known better.

Jeremy: So are you going to level with me?

Allison: Chloe and I have been through much lately. We did some unforgivable things to each other.

Jeremy (persuasively): But?

Allison: But I know that I irretrievably love her. This whole ordeal with Drake has made me see the light. Austin is beside himself with grief and uncertainty. He may never see Drake again, hold his hand, tell him that he loves him, (she starts crying) or hear it said back to him. I don’t want that to be the case with me.

Jeremy (coming to hug her): Allison, you’ve always been a strong woman. I know you can see yourself through this.

Allison (wiping her nose): There’s this looming cloud over us as to whether I have feelings for someone else. I’m seeing a therapist about that, and while I’m not sure they’ll go away, I can’t lose Chloe. She means too much to me.

Jeremy: Then let her know that. It’s never too late.

Allison (through teary eyes): Thank you, Jeremy. (kisses the crown of his head) I have to get to her now. I’m not wasting another minute. Close the door on your way out.

BRENDON AND NATHAN’S HOME, HOLLYCOVE ESTATES, EVENING

Brendon was growing impatient. He hadn’t heard back from Kyle in a day. He called him at the station, but each time he was away from his desk or on duty somewhere. He wasn’t even returning any of the calls to his cell. So much for moving over to my side! Justin couldn’t have gone far. He doesn’t have much money. Where could he be? He went back to Justin’s room, hoping to find something—anything—that would help him in his search. The room was just as he had last seen it. Nothing seemed out of place. He looked to the window and saw the curtains slightly billowing. He went to them, and seeing that the window hadn’t been shut completely, he began to close it when he suddenly saw something flashy on the roof. He raised the glass up, reached his hand out to grasp what he soon discovered was a university-issued student ID card for Enid Sutcliffe, his eyes at once burning into the surname.

SAN FERNANDO VALLEY WAREHOUSE, EVENING (SAME DAY AS OPENING EPISODE)

Tristan was ready to die. He had mentally willed himself to such a destiny after what he had endured yesterday with Rodrigo. He had dealt with another day of captivity, yet earlier that day his ropes had been replaced with handcuffs, and he was now chained to a pipe in the wall. The same thugs came to bring him food and free him for bathroom breaks, all the while holding him at gunpoint. It was around early evening when Rodrigo came into the room, the gun in his hand.

Rodrigo: How are we doing, Tristano?

Tristan: Don’t call me that.

Rodrigo: it’s your birth name. What your parents called you since you were a little, helpless baby.

Tristan: I know where you’re going with this, and I told you already. I didn’t take that kid!

Rodrigo: Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I’m having that matter taken care of. There’s a bigger issue I need to handle—Nathan! It’s time to take care of him, and you’re going to help me.

Tristan: The hell I will! You might as well kill me now. I’m not helping you.

Rodrigo: I’m not going to kill you, Tristan. You said you wouldn’t intentionally harm children, and I believe you.

Tristan: Then let me go!

Rodrigo: Not until you help me. Because if you don’t, then I might be forced to hurt the woman carrying your child. (seeing Tristan go white in the face) Yeah, I know about that. Remember I was in the restaurant lobby when you openly announced your impending fatherhood.

Tristan: You leave her alone!

Rodrigo (holding up gun): I’m the one holding all the cards—along with this gun, of course. I have one question for you, Tristan. Deal or no deal?

LOS ANGELES GAY AND LESBIAN CENTER, HOLLYWOOD, EVENING

Chloe had just finished her therapy session at the Gay and Lesbian Center. It was nearing nine and she rushed out into the parking lot to her car. Nightfall had come, and as she pulled out the parking lot, she didn’t see the car behind her, the one that continued to follow her down the street until her own car suddenly started wobbling uncontrollably. Realizing that she had a flat tire, she swerved to the side of the road and got out to assess the damage, now grasping that it had been two flat tires. That’s strange. I don’t remember either of them looking low. Just as she was about to withdraw her cell to call AAA, she saw a car pull alongside hers. A Good Samaritan in Los Angeles. I didn’t know they still existed. Chloe’s thoughts immediately shifted once her personal prejudices took effect as two unsavory young-looking men got out the car. To her eye, they looked dirty with their numerous tats and piercings. One nastily spat something to the ground before coming up to her.

Thug #1: Look like you’ve got a few flats.

Thug #2 (advancing upon her): Need any help?

Chloe: No thanks. (gesturing to cell phone she had just withdrawn) I’ve got it under control.

Thug #2 (snatching phone from her): So do we!

Chloe dashed to the car door, quickly opened it and managed to get half her body inside before she felt one of them grasp her. Letting out a scream, she struggled to free her lower body as her hands frantically reached for her purse in the passenger seat. Her fingers curled around the little can just as she was forcefully pulled from the car.

Chloe (screaming): Let me go!

Thug #1: It’s time to pay the price, Dyke!

Thug #2 (shouting as his eyes are sprayed with mace): You bitch! (feeing his body pushed away)

Thug #1 (wrenching the spray can from her): Where do you think you’re going?

He grabbed onto her frail figure, and Chloe fought back with what strength she had, slamming her foot into his as hard as she could. When he released her with the expected yelp, she kneed him in the groin and took to running away. She only got a few feet before she saw a car coming down the street, and without thinking, rushed out into the lane, hysterically raising her hands and waving them. As she then prayed for rescue, Chloe didn’t see him when he rushed upon her and knocked her to the ground in the other lane. When she raised her head, she let out a scream as she heard an eardrum-splitting horn sound off and saw blinding lights rapidly coming straight at her.

TO BE CONTINUED…