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Justin loves California. He goes to glittering parties. He gets drunk and high and laughs at lame jokes told by people who are drunker and higher than he is. He loves the surf, the sand, the sun on his face. He discovers a health food restaurant around the corner from his tiny rented apartment and goes there so often that the corner booth becomes his. He has hot phone sex with Brian, and when he needs to take the edge off and Brian’s not around, he enjoys random fucks with random guys, all of whom are movie-star-pretty and working as waiters or lifeguards or valet parking attendants until they get their big break.
But mostly, he loves his work. He spends long hours at the studio. He gives advice, and Brett listens. He sees his ideas, his sketches, his creations coming to life and he thinks it’s something miraculous. Yet there’s always something missing, some piece of the puzzle that is lacking, a vague discontent simmering at the back of his brain, and with his success and his accomplishment and his joy in the life he is leading, he can’t quite put his finger on what it could be. When Brian steps off the plane, everything falls into place. Justin loves California. But he suddenly can’t wait to get back to Pittsburgh. |
Feedback
is always welcome
Severina
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