Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 21: Everything Is Over

Justin knocked over his easel, satisfied with the loud bang as it hit the floor. His life was fucked. His art career was fucked. Everything was over. One bat to the head had ruined everything for him. He turned to look at the person standing in the doorway watching him.

"What do you want?" he practically yelled.

Brian slowly made his way into the room, letting his presence be known. It'd been the last thing he suspected, to say the least—to get a phone call saying he needed to come calm Justin down. And, as he took in the destruction in the young man's room, Brian was somewhat thankful.

"Your mom called me," he explained quietly, hoping he wouldn't suffer the same fate as Justin's easel. "She said she didn't know what else to do, so here I am."

"So you're the Justin patrol now? She's so worried about me. Well she should stop worrying. I'm not going to get any better. I'm not going to be the same as I was before Chris Hobbs tried to kill me." He tugged at his hair in frustration. "He should have fucking killed me."

Tears started to run down Justin's face, but he kept his look of anger.

Brian chose not to comment on what Justin said. "Well, since it was just the other day that your mother more or less told me to fuck off and never see you again... Not to mention the fact that you came to my loft, looking for me..." He clicked his tongue pursed his lips.

Brian took a tentative step forward, closing the door behind him, his eyes never leaving Justin's face. He shrugged a shoulder, cocking his head to the side. "I figured you'd want to see me. Forgive me if I was wrong. I can leave if you want; just say the word." He jabbed a thumb toward the door behind him, lifting an eyebrow, his eyes searching Justin's face.

Justin looked at Brian, not knowing what else to say. He didn't want Brian to leave, but he also didn't want to think he was only here because he was having trouble controlling his anger.

"You don't even want to be here, do you?" His anger started to fade slightly until all he felt was sadness and depression.

"Did I say that?" Brian asked, his voice calm and collected. He took a few more steps until he was standing in front of the younger man, looking down at him. He pulled Justin into an embrace, his hand running lightly and up and down Justin's back.

Justin stood still for a moment before wrapping his arms around Brian and burying his face in his neck. He let out a ragged breath.

"I'm really fucked up, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," Brian answered calmly, carding his fingers through Justin's hair. He held him close, letting the younger man calm down. "You're allowed to be angry. You're allowed to be hurt. Just let it out."

Justin continued to let angry and sad tears fall down his face as he calmed down in Brian's arms. Brian was only person who he had left touch him in weeks. He was the only person who had been able to calm him down. Justin didn't know why, but he felt safer with Brian around.

"I don't want to live like this, Brian."

"Shh," Brian hushed him, his touch feather-light in Justin's hair, on his back. "Don't think about what happened, alright? Just focus on what you're feeling right now." He squeezed him gently, pressed his lips to his temple. "Don't worry about anything. Just let it out."

Justin fisted his hands in the back of Brian's shirt. He stopped crying, but continued to find comfort in Brian's touch.

Brian continued to hush him, holding Justin against him as if he'd fall over if he didn't. He pressed his lips to Justin's ear and spoke gently, his voice almost a whisper. "Your mom took your sister out to eat, so you don't have to worry about them hearing you. Just let it out."