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Nov. 24th, 2003 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nanowrenletJustin didn't have any trouble at all finding himself another job. He wound up at a newer restaurant, French, and upscale in a way that made Justin refer to it as 'Chez Pretension' in his head. But it was a nice enough place and they put him on full shifts right away and the tips were better, which meant that he could get a better apartment, too.
Moving was a little exciting and a little frightening and a little... well, sad, all at once. Justin was getting to choose his own place, which was something he'd never done before and though his choices were pretty damn limited by his price range, it was still nice. His new place was a bit closer to Liberty Avenue, and sort of on the edge of one of the 'college' districts, where kids his age who couldn't afford campus housing and couldn't find roommates sometimes ended up. It occurred to him that one day, kids 'his age' wouldn't really -be- his age no matter what he looked like, and that would be pretty fucking strange but he supposed he'd deal with it when it happened. For the time being, he was perfectly comfortable around the college crowds. Plus, it meant all the nearby stores probably stocked the snack foods he liked, which was a bonus
But he'd also never -moved- before, not like this. None of his various changes of address in the last year of his life could really count, he'd sort of just been swept along from his parents' place to Brian's and then to Debbie's. Most of what little he'd had at Brian's loft was stuff his mom had brought over for him, and he'd never been sure who all had helped haul it up to Michael's old room. Debbie, most likely, and probably his mom too and maybe even Brian... anyway. Now he was Moving, like a man instead of some freeloading kid, and the fact that none of the people who would have been most proud of him were there to see it tempered his excitement some.
Packing his shit up proved to be more of a daunting task than he had expected. Looking around the place, it didn't seem as if there'd be that -much-, especially considering that the bed wasn't his and he didn't want it anyway, so he'd have to buy one for the new place, but when he got down to it? Justin had a fair amount of crap. It was mostly because his sketch collection had resisted all his well-meaning and frequent attempts at organization, and currently existed as this portfolio and that one and those three over there, the couple he kept by the bed, more under the window seat, various stacks of sketches that he hadn't bought binders for yet and oh yeah, the ones up on his walls, too. He'd had no idea there were that many.
They sort of posed their own problem, too. By the time Justin was done packing, fully half of the boxes were full of his artwork and given the typical subject matter... he just didn't want to have to deal with questions about it. Which left out asking any of his new co-workers for help. When he tentatively brought it up to the other reapers, though, Brandon had volunteered on the spot and Rube had smiled and appeared at Justin's building that Saturday with two other reapers Justin had never met before and a pickup truck. Justin was thrilled that he wouldn't have to leave his chair behind, after all.
Late that day, Justin paused in the doorway with a box of cleaning supplies, and took a last look around the little apartment. He'd spent roughly the first nine months of his unlife there and while it hadn't always exactly been -fun- it had been... something. The new apartment was larger, big enough to hold his chair and a full-sized futon and maybe one day a desk, and nicer, and hopefully only half as infested, but he had to admit that he would miss that early-morning light through the window. He'd miss a few other things, too.
Rube had given him a funny look when he had first mentioned he was looking for a new place and no, he hadn't been itching to move because he was afraid Knox would eventually call or show up on his doorstep looking for him. But maybe it was a little bit because Justin needed to stop -wondering- whether he would, one day. Maybe even more than a little bit, not that that really mattered when Justin locked the door of his old place behind him and moved on.
The move went smoothly, his new bed was delivered on time and he generally settled into the new apartment with a minimum of fuss. And it took all of two weeks for Justin's sketches to spill out of their neatly-packed boxes and once more sprawl across every available surface.
Justin settled into his new job just as easily. On a basic level, waiting tables was waiting tables whether the specials were in Italian or French. The waiters at the new place were nice enough even if none of them was Knox, and if anyone wondered about the new guy's painful secrets, no one mentioned it. To be honest, it bordered on surreal at times: Justin hung out with guys who were not Knox or Eric or Gray, at a place that was not Charlie's, and he never did get any better at darts but he did learn to play a passable game of pool. It was like a slightly-tilted reflection of a life he'd once pretended to have, but he tried not to think about it any more than he had to.
Now and then he went home with Jessie, who had soft dark hair and a soft accent that reminded Justin of one of Brian's old tricks. He liked to fuck Justin on his couch, with both of them trying to be quiet enough not to wake his roommate and Justin couldn't really object to that since he still balked at bringing anyone back to his place. Jessie's weed wasn't as good as Knox's, and Justin never stayed the night.
Justin got the raised-eyebrow look from Rube at breakfast sometimes, but he didn't let it get to him. He understood, now, how much of his life was dictated by his status and how much was his own to control, and if the two sides impacted again like they had with Curt, well, he'd deal with it. He owned his life, and he owned his pain. The insomnia plagued him now and then, but never as brutally as that first stretch of sleepless weeks, and at least the weather was warming up enough that late-night walks were actually kind of pleasant.
The change in season brought with it an up tick in the number of accidents around the city, and Rube said that wasn't unusual. Something about cabin fever, or maybe it was spring fever, whatever. It meant breakfast was usually pretty hurried, though, they all had multiple appointments and there was less teaming up on the jobs. It also meant Justin saw less and less of Rube, though, which was... sort of odd. It made Justin wonder what it would be like when Rube went back to the west coast, whenever he was done with Justin. And what was that all about, anyway? Justin was fine, he was handling his jobs, he'd gotten through seeing Chris and everything else, so what was left? Rube just shrugged when he asked, and said that he'd be there until they told him to go home, and that's all he knew.
On a happier note, spring hit Liberty Avenue the same way it did every year: with a bang. The weather warmed, the layers came off and the queers came out, and some weekends it looked kind of like an impromptu block party, with music and people spilling out of the bars and wandering up and down the street. Justin had less time than he would have liked to enjoy it but he took in all he could. He made it a point, no matter what else was going on in his life, to make it down there at least once a week, and he'd dance and he'd drink and he'd trick, and of course, he also kept his ear tuned to all the latest Brian Kinney gossip the Avenue had to offer.
There wasn't much, strangely, because as boisterous as the rest of queer Pittsburgh was at the moment, Brian's life seemed to be rather quiet. He still went to Babylon and Woody's and the diner, only to the latter a little more frequently and the first two a little less. He still drank, but not as much, and he still tricked, but not as often. Some people thought it had to do with his job, since he sometimes showed up late at Woody's still dressed from the office, and others said no, it must be because Michael had started seeing some new guy, which was startling and somewhat welcome news to Justin. A few said it might be that age was finally catching up to Liberty's top stud, but they didn't say it very loudly and Justin pretty much discounted that idea entirely.
Justin wasn't sure what to make of it all. But he got as close as he dared -- which meant loitering outside the diner pretending to light a cigarette while Michael sat at the counter inside -- and at least determined that no one in the family was worried about Brian, or at least not much. Michael mentioned he was "working too hard," but it was in that same tone he used when 'working too hard' really stood for 'can't meet me at Woody's tonight,' so that sort of fit, and it would just have to be enough. Justin stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away, and wondered about the man who'd sat next to Michael at the counter. He reminded Justin of Curt, in the way that he was really big and seemed kind of nice. Maybe that was Michael's guy. Maybe he'd find that out some night, if he was lucky.
[1715/1715/44986]
Note: I'll be posting longer segments less frequently from here 'till the end. Which is in sight :)
Moving was a little exciting and a little frightening and a little... well, sad, all at once. Justin was getting to choose his own place, which was something he'd never done before and though his choices were pretty damn limited by his price range, it was still nice. His new place was a bit closer to Liberty Avenue, and sort of on the edge of one of the 'college' districts, where kids his age who couldn't afford campus housing and couldn't find roommates sometimes ended up. It occurred to him that one day, kids 'his age' wouldn't really -be- his age no matter what he looked like, and that would be pretty fucking strange but he supposed he'd deal with it when it happened. For the time being, he was perfectly comfortable around the college crowds. Plus, it meant all the nearby stores probably stocked the snack foods he liked, which was a bonus
But he'd also never -moved- before, not like this. None of his various changes of address in the last year of his life could really count, he'd sort of just been swept along from his parents' place to Brian's and then to Debbie's. Most of what little he'd had at Brian's loft was stuff his mom had brought over for him, and he'd never been sure who all had helped haul it up to Michael's old room. Debbie, most likely, and probably his mom too and maybe even Brian... anyway. Now he was Moving, like a man instead of some freeloading kid, and the fact that none of the people who would have been most proud of him were there to see it tempered his excitement some.
Packing his shit up proved to be more of a daunting task than he had expected. Looking around the place, it didn't seem as if there'd be that -much-, especially considering that the bed wasn't his and he didn't want it anyway, so he'd have to buy one for the new place, but when he got down to it? Justin had a fair amount of crap. It was mostly because his sketch collection had resisted all his well-meaning and frequent attempts at organization, and currently existed as this portfolio and that one and those three over there, the couple he kept by the bed, more under the window seat, various stacks of sketches that he hadn't bought binders for yet and oh yeah, the ones up on his walls, too. He'd had no idea there were that many.
They sort of posed their own problem, too. By the time Justin was done packing, fully half of the boxes were full of his artwork and given the typical subject matter... he just didn't want to have to deal with questions about it. Which left out asking any of his new co-workers for help. When he tentatively brought it up to the other reapers, though, Brandon had volunteered on the spot and Rube had smiled and appeared at Justin's building that Saturday with two other reapers Justin had never met before and a pickup truck. Justin was thrilled that he wouldn't have to leave his chair behind, after all.
Late that day, Justin paused in the doorway with a box of cleaning supplies, and took a last look around the little apartment. He'd spent roughly the first nine months of his unlife there and while it hadn't always exactly been -fun- it had been... something. The new apartment was larger, big enough to hold his chair and a full-sized futon and maybe one day a desk, and nicer, and hopefully only half as infested, but he had to admit that he would miss that early-morning light through the window. He'd miss a few other things, too.
Rube had given him a funny look when he had first mentioned he was looking for a new place and no, he hadn't been itching to move because he was afraid Knox would eventually call or show up on his doorstep looking for him. But maybe it was a little bit because Justin needed to stop -wondering- whether he would, one day. Maybe even more than a little bit, not that that really mattered when Justin locked the door of his old place behind him and moved on.
The move went smoothly, his new bed was delivered on time and he generally settled into the new apartment with a minimum of fuss. And it took all of two weeks for Justin's sketches to spill out of their neatly-packed boxes and once more sprawl across every available surface.
Justin settled into his new job just as easily. On a basic level, waiting tables was waiting tables whether the specials were in Italian or French. The waiters at the new place were nice enough even if none of them was Knox, and if anyone wondered about the new guy's painful secrets, no one mentioned it. To be honest, it bordered on surreal at times: Justin hung out with guys who were not Knox or Eric or Gray, at a place that was not Charlie's, and he never did get any better at darts but he did learn to play a passable game of pool. It was like a slightly-tilted reflection of a life he'd once pretended to have, but he tried not to think about it any more than he had to.
Now and then he went home with Jessie, who had soft dark hair and a soft accent that reminded Justin of one of Brian's old tricks. He liked to fuck Justin on his couch, with both of them trying to be quiet enough not to wake his roommate and Justin couldn't really object to that since he still balked at bringing anyone back to his place. Jessie's weed wasn't as good as Knox's, and Justin never stayed the night.
Justin got the raised-eyebrow look from Rube at breakfast sometimes, but he didn't let it get to him. He understood, now, how much of his life was dictated by his status and how much was his own to control, and if the two sides impacted again like they had with Curt, well, he'd deal with it. He owned his life, and he owned his pain. The insomnia plagued him now and then, but never as brutally as that first stretch of sleepless weeks, and at least the weather was warming up enough that late-night walks were actually kind of pleasant.
The change in season brought with it an up tick in the number of accidents around the city, and Rube said that wasn't unusual. Something about cabin fever, or maybe it was spring fever, whatever. It meant breakfast was usually pretty hurried, though, they all had multiple appointments and there was less teaming up on the jobs. It also meant Justin saw less and less of Rube, though, which was... sort of odd. It made Justin wonder what it would be like when Rube went back to the west coast, whenever he was done with Justin. And what was that all about, anyway? Justin was fine, he was handling his jobs, he'd gotten through seeing Chris and everything else, so what was left? Rube just shrugged when he asked, and said that he'd be there until they told him to go home, and that's all he knew.
On a happier note, spring hit Liberty Avenue the same way it did every year: with a bang. The weather warmed, the layers came off and the queers came out, and some weekends it looked kind of like an impromptu block party, with music and people spilling out of the bars and wandering up and down the street. Justin had less time than he would have liked to enjoy it but he took in all he could. He made it a point, no matter what else was going on in his life, to make it down there at least once a week, and he'd dance and he'd drink and he'd trick, and of course, he also kept his ear tuned to all the latest Brian Kinney gossip the Avenue had to offer.
There wasn't much, strangely, because as boisterous as the rest of queer Pittsburgh was at the moment, Brian's life seemed to be rather quiet. He still went to Babylon and Woody's and the diner, only to the latter a little more frequently and the first two a little less. He still drank, but not as much, and he still tricked, but not as often. Some people thought it had to do with his job, since he sometimes showed up late at Woody's still dressed from the office, and others said no, it must be because Michael had started seeing some new guy, which was startling and somewhat welcome news to Justin. A few said it might be that age was finally catching up to Liberty's top stud, but they didn't say it very loudly and Justin pretty much discounted that idea entirely.
Justin wasn't sure what to make of it all. But he got as close as he dared -- which meant loitering outside the diner pretending to light a cigarette while Michael sat at the counter inside -- and at least determined that no one in the family was worried about Brian, or at least not much. Michael mentioned he was "working too hard," but it was in that same tone he used when 'working too hard' really stood for 'can't meet me at Woody's tonight,' so that sort of fit, and it would just have to be enough. Justin stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away, and wondered about the man who'd sat next to Michael at the counter. He reminded Justin of Curt, in the way that he was really big and seemed kind of nice. Maybe that was Michael's guy. Maybe he'd find that out some night, if he was lucky.
[1715/1715/44986]
Note: I'll be posting longer segments less frequently from here 'till the end. Which is in sight :)
