This is Part 2 of Chapter 117 in the "Queer Theories" series.
Go back to "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out -- Part 1", the previous section.
The narrator is Brian Kinney, featuring Justin Taylor, Sir Kenneth Fielding, Dorian Folco, Ron Rosenblum, Kenroy Smith, Harry Collins, Neville Douglas-Gore, Graham Norton, Dane, Others.
Rated R and contains a warning for violence.
Summary: Brian is feeling strange lately -- he's happy. London, December, 2002.
Disclaimer: This is for fun, not profit. Watch Queer As Folk on Showtime, buy the DVDs, videos, and CDs. Read the stories and enjoy.
So, Brian Kinney doesn't do boyfriends. Never has, never will. Remember that, kid, because you're not my lover, you're not my partner, you're not even my friend! You're not ANYTHING to me! Yeah, Justin, listen to what I'm saying! I really mean it!
How fucking ironic is THAT? Why do I get the feeling sometimes that Fate is laughing its ass off at me?
Because here I am, after the London premiere of 'The Olympian,' walking around the ballroom of the Dorchester holding hands with that non-boyfriend, non-lover, non-partner, non-friend -- my non-ANYTHING! I am so completely fucked at this point that it isn't even funny anymore. I know I have this stupid look on my face that you usually see on the faces of dickless fags who are in 'relationships' -- sort of like the happy look of a dog that sees the food bowl crossed with the stunned look of a steer right before they make him into rump roast. That kind of incredulous smile that belongs to breeders and dykes in fucking Vera Wangs! And it's on MY fucking face!
"Brian, what is so funny?" Justin asks, tugging at the sleeve of my Armani tux. He actually looks worried. Maybe he thinks I've taken something. Too much 'E' usually makes me look goofier than usual, even while it makes me feel even more fabulous than usual. But I haven't touched any of that shit. In fact, I've never been so fucking sober in my entire life!
"This whole thing! Being happy! Life in general!" I say to him, grinning like an idiot. "When are we going to wake up and find out it's all been an elaborate joke?"
"Never," says Justin, definitely. "Because THIS is our reality, Brian. Yours and mine. This is the place we belong. The place we are supposed to be. Are you sorry?"
"No," I say. "No fucking regrets, remember?"
He smiles that megawatt smile. Jesus, that kid has a lot of teeth! "Never any regrets, Brian. Never." And he squeezes my hand. I want to lean over and bury my face in that hair. Pull his pants down right here and bury my cock in that ass. I guess I just want to bury myself in him completely.
Then another group of well-wishers come up and the schmooze cycle starts all over again.
Sir Ken is the host of this afterparty at the Dorchester, which is just as well because I don't have it together enough to host anything after the last couple of days. But Sir Ken, he's always cool and in control. He is something else. When I watched the film again tonight at the theater I realized just how good he is in 'The Olympian.' I mean, he's great in 'Hammersmith,' but then that's a showy, starring role. In 'The Olympian' his character -- Bobby's rich benefactor who also expects sexual favors in return for sponsoring him -- could be such a sleazy bastard. And yet Sir Kenneth Fielding makes him a real person. You can see how lonely the guy is and how he really cares for Bobby and wants to help him -- and how he also knows that Bobby would never actually be interested in him sexually if he wasn't getting something out of the deal. You can see all that in his few short scenes. Man, he does all his acting with his face and his voice. And me? I'm still flashing my ass at the camera. I'm sure Ron will think of plenty of ways to get lots of butt shots into 'Red River'! After all, he wants to make use of my 'talent' as best he can!
"My dear boy," says Sir Ken. "You certainly have triumphed over adversity! Once they have seen 'The Olympian' those photographs just pale in importance. And just look at this turn out! The picture is a sure hit! And I know the reviews over here will be just as good as you got in the States."
"Thanks," I reply. "I have to tell you frankly, Sir Ken, that on Monday I was ready to turn tail and run! I didn't think I could go through with any of this."
"But you DID! You AND Justin. I know what a huge source of support he has been for you, Brian. You are still standing, still smiling -- that is what counts in the long run. It shows the press you aren't afraid. That they can't bend you and they can't break you. And the tide is turning, dear heart," Sir Ken insists. "All the editorials on this unfortunate affair are in your favor. The piece in 'The Times' summed things up perfectly -- it should be the WORK that matters and not the personal life of the actor. And the coverage in the tabloids is beginning to reflect public sentiment -- which is also overwhelmingly in your favor."
"Well," I say. "I think a couple of those tabloid writers took the wrong road when they attacked Justin. When assholes like Julian Brithewaite discussed Justin's bashing like he was at fault somehow, that pissed people off. Because that's just bullshit! And it made a lot of people rethink the whole situation."
Justin grips my hand and nods. "I almost cried when I read that interview the guy at 'The Pittsburgh Clarion' did with my best friend Daphne. She ripped a lot jerks new assholes! Daphne is so great! She made everyone see that what they thought happened at the prom was completely wrong. But Daphne was THERE that night and she totally set the record straight. And all those other teachers and students who also gave statements of support for me -- I was really touched."
"Justin, when we get back home I'm going to call my lawyer in the Pitts and tell him to go ahead with that civil suit against Hobbs and St. James Academy. I wanted to do it over a year ago," I say, turning to Sir Kenneth. "But Justin's mother asked me to back off. She didn't think Justin was up to going into court and having to testify so soon after he got out of rehab. And then I left town and...." I pause and take a deep breath. "But it's important that Justin have his day in court now, if only to prove to Hobbs and other assholes like him who think they can mess with queers that they can't fucking get away with it!"
Sir Kenneth laughs. "Good show, my dear boy! You give them what-for, Justin! By the way, Brian, I wanted to speak with you about a project I'm pursuing. As a follow-up to 'Hammersmith,' in fact."
"Hey, Sir Ken -- you died in that picture, remember?" Now I laugh, too. "NO sequels!"
"This is not a sequel, exactly, my dear. But I'm excited with the possibilities. And there is a wonderful role in it for you, of course."
"Let's talk a little later," I say. Because the line of hand-shakers and ass-kissers is beginning to back up! Jesus! I've been to a lot of sex clubs and orgies in my day, but I've never been kissed as much as I have tonight -- not even at the Hollywood premiere! And I've certainly never been kissed by so many females in my entire life! Justin, too. I hope it doesn't turn him straight.
Harry Collins gives both of us a huge hug. Even Gerry Milton is behaving well tonight and not being his usual asinine self. Gerry shakes my hand and tells me, sincerely, how much he liked the picture.
"Are you two still planning to come down this weekend?" asks Harry. "And Jimmy Hardy and his lovely wife, too, of course. Because we're counting on you! Mrs. Jones is making all of Justin's favorite desserts!"
"Oh, extra helpings of Spotted Dick, huh?" I say, glancing at Justin.
"Shut UP!" he says, elbowing me. "We're definitely coming! Will it be too cold to go riding?"
Harry guffaws. "In England it's never too cold to ride! Just toss on an extra sweater and off you go. The horses are looking forward to your visit, Justin, almost as much as I am."
Justin grins. "I'm looking forward to it, too! I've been riding out in L.A., so I haven't forgotten how to stay on the horse!"
"Yeah, just make sure you stoke up that fire in our room," I remind Harry. "We're used to California temperatures!"
Then Justin sees Fiona standing in the corner with Gerry's sister, Sybil, and her husband, Albert, and he goes over and hugs her and talks to her for a while. But I don't go over. Fiona still freaks me out a little. So I just smile and wave. From a nice, safe distance. I'm not into any heavy psychic scenes tonight to put a damper on my good mood!
I meet a pack of British actors I mainly know from 'Masterpiece Theatre' and British movies on PBS. I shake hands with Richard Briers, Juliet Stevenson, Penelope Keith, Rupert Graves, Maureen Lipman, also Lulu, one of the former Spice Girls (don't ask me which one), and some boy band, Westlife, that they play a lot on the radio over here. I also meet Diane Rigg from 'The Avengers'! She's still a beautiful woman. Wait until Lindsay and Mel hear about this! Emma Peel is a big dyke icon, so they will be very, very jealous! And then Neville Douglas-Gore comes over. The future SIR Neville Douglas-Gore. He's Gerry Milton's rival as the Big Dog of British Theatre -- except Douglas-Gore is doing movies these days and getting all the press. Douglas-Gore lives in L.A. most of the year now, but he's in London casting for his new picture, another big budget Shakespeare adaptation.
"Brian," he says, like we know each other. We've actually met only once, when he invited me for an 'intimate' weekend at his country house. But I couldn't go because I was recovering from almost being murdered. I HATE when that happens! "I wonder if you'd be interested in a role in my new production?"
I almost choke on my gum. "You mean your Shakespeare thing? Playing what? Spear-carrier Number Three?" I mean, come on! Brian Kinney doing Shakespeare? Let's be real!
"Yes," he grins. "My Shakespeare thing. 'Troilus and Cressida,' actually. I have a few modern takes on the story. And there might be a part that would be perfect for you. Please give me a call before you leave town." And he does that little holding-your-hand-much-longer-than-necessary move that means he isn't thinking about my acting so much as about my ass! Okay -- moving on....
Then I see someone I didn't expect, but I'm really pleased he's here. He's wearing a spiffy tux and looks just great. He grabs me in a bear-hug and practically pulls me off my feet. "Kenroy, please don't suffocate me! That's Justin's job!"
"You TWO!" he yells. "The kind of trouble you get into -- and yet you come up smelling like a rose!"
"Well, the smelling part is right," I say. Before I send Kenroy over to maul Justin, I make plans with him to take us to the studio to tape the Graham Norton television show tomorrow night, and then down to Harry Collins' house on Friday. I gesture Harry over and he extends an invitation for Kenroy to stay all weekend as a guest, but he declines.
"I never mix business with pleasure, man!" Kenroy says. "And you want me to leave London for the whole weekend? I have people to drive! I can't spend ALL my time chasing after you, Brian!" he jokes.
We're still laughing about my slight tendency for mishaps when I'm in London when Dorian appears and gives me a quick and very passionless kiss. He's here with his elusive wife, the actress Maria Montgomery. I saw both of them briefly at the premiere when he introduced me to her, but otherwise Dorian has been pretty elusive on this trip. He hasn't been up to the room and he hasn't called me. He had a video dub of 'Hammersmith' sent over for Justin to watch, but that's it.
"Your wife -- she's a lovely woman," I say lamely, as Dorian and I walk over to the bar. I get myself a tonic and Dorian a glass of champagne. And Maria Montgomery IS lovely. For a woman well into her fifties. She's blonde and elegant and has obviously kept herself up well -- European plastic surgery is first-rate. Maria is sitting at a table with some friends of Sir Kenneth. I admit that I feel more than a little awkward with this situation. I'm not used to being in the same room with TWO ex-lovers AND their wives at the same time. Talk about your fucking past catching up with you!
"Yes, she is," says Dorian. And then he sighs. "She's only in London for the Holidays, then she's going skiing with some friends in Austria."
"You going, too?" I have no idea how much time Dorian and his wife spend together, but it doesn't seem like a lot.
"Oh, Lord, no. I hate the snow. Besides, I have work to do...." Dorian looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but standing next to me.
"Is there something wrong, Dorian?" I ask him. "It's like you've been avoiding me. I know I'm persona non grata these days, but...."
"Hardly, Brian!" Dorian smiles weakly. He looks really tired. "I've just been so very busy. Getting ready for that film with Jude Law in Vancouver at the first of the year, you know."
"Oh, right. The romantic comedy. I guess they won't be sending me any more of those kinds of scripts after the big fag revelations! Which is just as well, I guess!" I laugh. "Hey, I just saw Jude Law at the 'Vanity Fair' photo shoot before we left L.A. He seems like a nice guy."
Dorian nods. "He is. It looks like a fine picture, Brian. It's a wonderful role for him. And a good showcase for me. My first American film!"
"Yeah -- all shot in Canada! How do they figure that, Dorian?"
"That's the way it works these days." Dorian looks over at Justin, standing with Kenroy and a bunch of other people who are chatting him up. "Justin seems to be holding up well. I hear he's moved out to live with you -- finally."
"Well, it was inevitable. I want him to be with me and it was no use trying to fight it anymore. And Justin keeps me from fucking up," I reply.
"I'm glad. And I'm happy for you," he says. But Dorian doesn't look very happy.
"Look, Dorian," I say. "I'm sorry... I mean about the last time I was here in London and... I mean, I just keep screwing up, let's face it! You know that. But I never really told you how much I appreciated you helping with all that shit at the hospital, and getting me that other doctor, and calling Justin and... well, everything. It means a lot to me."
"You don't have to thank me, Brian. It needed to be done." Dorian looks down at his expensive Italian shoes. Dorian is always impeccably dressed. "You seem to be happy, Brian. I'm glad, because you deserve to be."
"Thanks, Dorian. I AM happy. And after all that's happened to me lately, I should be freaking out! How fucked up is THAT?"
But Dorian just sighs and looks away. I keep wondering if he's seeing someone now, but he doesn't seem to be. Maybe that's why his wife is back in town. "There's Nick Parr. You remember him?"
"Sure," I reply. "The assistant director on 'Hammersmith.'"
"I need to speak with him. If you'll excuse me, Brian." And Dorian hurries away without a backward glance. Now I KNOW he must be pissed at me. Every time he has to deal with me it's a shitload of trouble for him. I watch Dorian go over and talk to Nick Parr -- and I see Rowan Conley, standing next to Nick. Shit! Rowan looks over and catches my eye, but I look away. I still don't trust that kid. And he's still playing Nick Parr to get ahead in good old Show Biz! What a creep.
Rowan smirks at me and starts coming over here to talk. Shit! I immediately turn and head over to the corner to scoop up Justin. "Excuse me. Conference time." I grab Justin's hand and pull him along. This is something I've been meaning to do ever since we got to this party, but I've been postponing it. But now seems as good a time as any.
"Brian, where are we going?"
"You'll see." I drag him down the hall where the restrooms are. No good. Too public. We keep moving along some halls. I push open a door and find what I'm looking for. An empty meeting room. Just the place to have a private conference. We go in, I shut the door, and get busy taking off Justin's clothes.
"Brian, do you really think this is the best time and place for THIS?" giggles Justin. But he doesn't try to stop me from unbuttoning his shirt. "It would only take us 5 minutes to go up to the room."
"And leave our guests? You know that if we went up to the room we'd be gone for an hour at least. Here, maybe 10 or 15 minutes, tops!" I undo his pants and have him step out of them. I leer at him. "Now, if you don't mind coming over here, sir. We have some lovely accommodations -- right on this sturdy-looking table!"
"Brian, you are the most incorrigible person I've ever met!" Justin says, hopping up on the table. Then he lies back, grinning and putting his legs up to show me his little pink hole. He really IS a dirty little boy!
"I know. Isn't that why you like me?" I say, unbuckling my belt and opening my fly. I'm so fucking hard that this isn't going to take very long at all. I check my pocket. I've only got one condom. But that's enough to do the job.
"Your shy and retiring ways are actually what attracted me to you, Brian. Oh, and your 9-inch cock."
"I'm glad you like that," I reply. "Because...." And I don't say a lot more. After all, as I've said again and again, my dick is much more eloquent.
Continue on to Page 2 of "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out -- Part 2".