I fumble in my pocket for my coat check ticket... I know it’s here somewhere... but I can’t find it... and suddenly it’s the most important thing in the world and I can’t go... outside... without... my.... stupid...fucking... jacket... and I pull out my pockets... and... I’m... panicked... fucking... gotta... gotta... my fingers are shaking and I get this incredible wave of anger? Guilt? Sadness? I don’t know what the fuck it is... but... it washes over me... and fuck... I can’t breathe... and I step back from the coat check and Ethan is there, looking at me... and it’s like he’s floating away and I’m drowning... drowning... drowning... I fall two steps back... and Ethan grabs my arm... pulling me to the wall...

“Justin... are you okay,” he asks... but I can only read his lips... because it’s so loud... in here... and I gotta get out... fuck....

He wraps his arms around me and I cling to him desperately as the horrifying realization slides into my brain that Brian has my coat check ticket... and I don’t care if it’s fucking freezing outside... the desire to get out of here right now before I go screaming back into Babylon and run into Brian’s embrace is too strong... too great... so I grab Ethan’s hand and run down the stairs... feeling delirious as they seem to rise up at me... and I’m disconnected from my body... running away... running away... running away....

But I don’t do this... I don’t run away...

Now I do...

I finally hit the pavement and the shock of the cold is nothing to me now... nothing... and I let go of Ethan’s hand and run towards the street... run towards... nowhere or somewhere... I vaguely hear Ethan’s voice behind me, yelling at me to wait up, wait up, wait up... and I stop... the streets crowded with people... all looking at me... and... I find a dark corner and bury my face in it and I suck in breath after breath after breath... after breath...

I’m not suffocating... not gonna drown... not gonna die...

Warm hands touch my shoulders and I know it’s Ethan... he grabs me from behind in a move that reminds me of Brian and I know I’m so fucked... so screwed... so... fucking lost... from everything...

“Justin... it’s okay,” he whispers... his lips touching the side of my face... his warm breath filling my ear...

“I know... I... just needed to get out of there,” I say, turning to face him. Away from Brian...

“Shit, you must be freezing... where’s your jacket?” he asks.

I shrug. “Gone.”

“Do you wanna go for coffee or something... or...” he drops his gaze... afraid to push... like I might break or fly away or leave forever...

“Take me home and fuck me,” I say... and he looks up at me quickly... I don’t usually talk to him like that... those words are for Brian... but he takes my hand again... and wraps his scarf around my neck... and we look for the bus stop to take us back to his place.

We hardly talk until we get back to his apartment... and when we get there, he tries to kiss me... but I just duck away and strip off my pants and shirt and watch as he does the same and then I climb on the bed and roll onto my stomach... and... he tries to kiss me again... but I turn away and I just beg him over and over and over to fuck me...

He puts on a condom and climbs on my back and then slides his dick in me... and he tries to be gentle... slow... like he always is... treating me... like I’m something precious... important... but I’m not... I’m just me... and... I can’t ever be... who he wants me to be...

I push back on him hard... he sucks in a gasp of air... I feel his balls on my ass... his fingers on my sides... dig into me... Christ... I want a rough fuck and he never gives it to me... I lift my ass and get up on my hands and knees and I push back on him again... driving his cock inside me... he sways behind me and I tell him... practically fucking scream at him... harder harder harder... I wanna fucking feel this one... I wanna fucking be sore tomorrow... I wanna fucking... remember... it like this... and then he does fuck me harder and his cock pounds in me so goddamn far my eyes pop open... and... I feel it in my throat... and then there’s more and more and more and... more... and... I grab my dick and jack off quickly... I feel him inside me... and I clench my ass to make him cum... he stops... then pumps... then stops... then pumps... trying to make it last... but I need it now now now and I keep pulling and pushing his dick inside me... and... fuck... oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck... I cum hard... shooting into my hand... it drips from my fingers to the sheets... then he cums inside me... gripping my thighs with his fingers... holding his hips hard against my ass... when it’s over, I fall to the bed... he falls on top of me... his dick still inside...

And I feel...

Fucked.

I needed that.

We pant heavily... he moans... and laughs a little...

“Jesus Christ,” he says... his breath warming my shoulder blades. I suddenly realize how cold I am... the sweat from our fucking drips down my skin... making me colder as it trails down my back...

I can’t talk... I close my eyes and Ethan stays on top of me... letting his legs slip to either side so he doesn’t crush me... he pulls a blanket over both of us... and I let myself drift a little... his dick held inside me... and... I think about... how...

This is the last time I’ll be here.

After a little while, I open my eyes and see the clock... see the red numbers burning in the darkness of the room.

2:34 a.m.

I watch as it flickers and changes.

2:35 a.m.

I stir a little. Ethan’s been quiet and I think maybe he’s asleep. But he lifts his head and slides off me... pulling the condom carefully so it doesn’t spill... he lays his head on the pillow beside mine... and looks at me... smiling... his eyes crinkling in the corners... I just... wanna remember that... I just... wanna... look at him like that... know... that... one time... one person... felt... this way about me...

Know... what I’ll miss the most...

I sigh. I know he’s going to kiss me... and I don’t want to have to avoid him again.

They were my fucking rules. I oughta at least try to abide by a couple of them.

Since Brian’s held to all of them.

“Ethan,” I whisper... can’t hear my voice out loud... can’t hear... what I’m going to say...  “I have to go.”

His face just drops suddenly... he... I know he thought I was going to stay tonight. I know he thought that... it was over between me and Brian tonight. I know he thought... that... he was all I needed and wanted... he is... but...

He’s not Brian. Can’t ever be Brian. And... I’m a sick, sick boy. I need Brian. I need to love Brian. I need to look after Brian. I need... to try again with Brian.

“Why can’t you stay?” he asks, pushing himself up and turning away from me.

I slide off the bed and find my underwear.

“Because...” I don’t want to talk anymore. Christ. I understand Brian so much better right now.

My socks are missing and I need to find them... it’s too cold to walk home without them. If I focus on finding socks... then... I can’t think about... what I’m... doing... here...

“Stay,” he stands up and plants himself in front of me, watching as I pull my jeans on.

Christ... that word... and I so fucking know I’ve made the right decision because more than anything right now I wish Ethan was Brian saying it... wish I’d heard Brian’s voice and not Ethan’s... know that... for me to spend one second longer... letting Ethan think... he ever had a hope in hell... of... stealing my heart... from Brian... is so unfair... so so so unfair.

A second goes by and he’s staring at me.

“Stay,” he says it again, louder.

“I can’t,” I answer, quietly... not meeting his gaze.

He grabs my arm and I have to look at him now. “Justin, I’m asking you to stay,” he says it quieter.

“I know, Ethan,” I look back at him and feel a lump in my throat... noooooo... this isn’t supposed to be hard. “But... I have to go.”

“If you leave... right now... I don’t want you to ever come back,” he says and he drops my arm.

I nod and the tears threaten in my eyes. “I know,” I whisper and pull my sweater over my head. “I know, Ethan.” Christ, this is all I can say.

“Fuck you, Justin,” he grabs his pants from the floor and pulls them on, pausing for a second. Then he looks at me... “Fuck you,” he says louder. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” his voice screeches out of his throat.

“I...” I wanna say I’m sorry... but I’ve apologized enough.

He turns away from me and his shoulders start to shake. I can’t bear this... and I desperately try to swallow... this is... so much worse than anything I’ve ever done before... so... much worse... God...

But... Brian’s not the only one... who can push people... off cliffs...

I head for the door, my vision blurring as I blink back tears. But I have to do this. I have to have to have to...

“Wait, Justin,” he calls to me and then he’s at my arm. “Please don’t go, please, please, please” He buries his face in my shoulder, holding my arm tightly. Clinging to me. Begging me. His fingers are digging into my arm. “Please, please...” he starts to sob and I almost can’t stand it. But I deserve this. Deserve... to feel like... this...

“Ethan... I have to go,” I say and try not to look at him. Try not to remember him holding me after we’d made love. Try not to remember his quick, warm kisses. Try not to remember the way he always, always, looks at me. Try not to remember how much he loves me.

“Please,” I try to pull away a tiny bit and he lets go of me suddenly and pushes me away hard, his hands on my chest. I stumble backwards and hit the door, the coat hook cracking against the side of the head. I close my eyes for a second while the sharp pain works it’s way through my brain.

Ouch...

“Just go if you’re leaving! Get the fuck out of here, then!” he stands in front of me, yelling, and I raise my hands to shield myself... I... can’t have this happen... I can’t let myself panic... I can’t let that old fear come creeping back on me... but... my head is fucking screaming... my stomach in knots...

“Don’t,” is all I can stutter out.

He pushes me again, and it’s not hard... and I know he’d never... ever... really hit me... he’d never... ever... really hurt me... but it’s just enough... to make the terror return... the terror of last year, that I thought I had beat... the terror of not remembered nightmares... the terror of someone coming after me... the terror that Chris Hobbes planted in my brain... this panic rises like puke in my throat and I fumble at the door knob behind me... desperate to get out... desperate to leave this place... before... before...

Something bad happens...

He takes a step back from me, and I pull the door open... his hands are on my back and I’m thrown to the ground... I fall to my hands and knees... I... I try to get up... but my head my head my head... Christ... my fucking head hurts so much... it was just a bump... it didn’t mean to hurt so much, I know it... I know he didn’t mean to hurt me... I know... he didn’t mean... for this... to happen... but it did... and fuck... it hit me so close... to where... the bat... hit... me...

And... the pain... is... fucking... blinding...

Ethan’s behind me... I can feel him standing there... I don’t want to look at him... can’t get up... just... stay there on the floor... hoping I’ll be able to see again... hoping... the pain will subside...

“You got your fuck, now leave!” Ethan practically screams these last words and slams the door shut.

I’m left there... with the upstairs neighbour banging on the floor... shakily trying... to pull myself up... to stand... without falling down... but... I don’t want to fucking move... don’t want to fucking breathe... each intake of air... seeming to bring... a searing rage of pain to my brain...

But I know he’s still there... waiting behind a closed door. Probably staring at me through the peephole... I don’t want to give him the wrong impression... let him think... I mean to stay... I slowly pick myself up... pushing past the dizziness... the nausea... the agony... I somehow manage to put one foot in front of the other... and climb down the stairs... gripping the railing... like my life depended on it...

Get outside... so fucking cold... I hear his window open and I look up.

“Take this shit too,” he says and throws my painting out the window. The one I gave him.

I stumble over in my daze and pick it up. Pull out my cell phone... call a cab... because... I don’t feel too good right now...

I get back to Brian’s... I slowly walk up the stairs to the loft and grab the handle to pull the door open... but...

It’s locked.

It’s never locked until both of us are home for the night...

I try the code and it works... but... the metal latch on the inside is slipped across the door.

Locked.

He... wasn’t expecting me tonight...

He didn’t think I’d come home.

I feel... victorious... because he believed my play... he fell for my game... he believed me... leaving him... I got him got him got him...

But... I feel...

So bad.

He thought I left him for good.

I hear the thunk of metal on metal and the door slides open...

Go to part 3...