OCTOBER 2001 The two young lovers stood in the middle of their neat but cramped shabby apartment facing off. Justin had walked in and caught his lover fucking another man in their bed. The discarded remnants of a candlelight picnic still lay on the floor. Justin was supposed to be working late but had anaged to get off early. He’d decided to come home and surprise Ethan. He knew Ethan had been a little upset with him about something this morning. They hadn’t been getting along very well lately and he was blaming it on himself. Ethan told him that he was becoming too cynical and bitter. Justin would admit that after being practically thrown out of his home, having his father disown him and his mother barely keep in contact with him he had been a little bitter. Walking in on his lover with another man in their home wasn’t making matters any better. “If you’re going to fuck a trick at least do in an alley behind Woody’s or in the backroom of Babylon.” Justin advised. “If you wanted to fuck other guys you should have said something. I'm all for an open/no locks on our door relationship. There are plenty of dicks and Asses out there I want to get acquainted with on an intimate basis.” “I don’t go to Woody’s or Babylon’s anymore. I told you I’d stopped going there when I met you. Look I said I was sorry about tonight. So can we please drop it?” Ethan yelled. “You could have called and told me you were getting off early. Doesn’t the Big Q have a fucking telephone?” Justin shook his head in disbelief. “So, now it’s my fault that I caught you fucking a trick in our home because I didn’t call to let you know I was getting off work early?” This argument was going nowhere fast and he wasn’t in the mood. “Look, I’ve had a for shit day at school, a long night at work and now I walk in and catch you fucking one of your tricks. I’m not in the mood for your *I’m the victim* act?” Ethan went on the defensive. “I’m not in the mood for this shit either,” Ethan said irritably. “I didn’t plan on fucking that guy. It just happened.” “Oh you just happen to have a candlelight floor picnic all set out when the guy stopped over?” Justin asked derisively. “It wasn’t for him. It was for you but then you called and said you were working late. Then Eric stopped by. I was just upset okay. Upset because you didn’t remember the significance of today. This morning I was trying to get you to remember and you just shrugged.” Justin searched his memory but nothing came to mind. He gave Ethan his patented *Duh* expression. “It’s our anniversary ASSHOLE! The day we first met! Your music teacher brought your class to my violin recital a year ago today!” Damn! Justin thought. He had forgotten. The little memorable occasion had totally slipped by him. Mostly because anniversaries were the last thing on his mind. Lately he’d been trying to think of a way to break it off with Ethan not celebrate meeting him. Of course after the little episode he just interrupted a few minutes ago he now had all the reason he needed. Plus he was just tired of all the sweet words, violin music, romantic gestures and all the emotions. It was too much. Too lesbianic. Too hetero. Couldn’t emotions be expressed by gestures and actions? Then Ethan always wanted to *make love. * What was wrong with fucking? What he would give for some mind blowing energetic fucking. No sweet words or endearments just a lot of hot dirty talk to go along with his hot, pulsating dick pounding in someone’s ass and then have the someone return the favor. He didn’t regret his time with Ethan its just that he felt it was time to move on. In the beginning he had been so thrilled that an older man had taken interest in him. He’d been 17 and Ethan had been a 20-year-old college man with an apartment of his own. It seemed so romantic those first few weeks with Ethan. He’d come by Ethan’s apartment everyday after school and the weekends. Ethan would read him poetry; play him a violin solo take him to see French films with sub titles. They’d even had a candlelight picnic in his apartment. It had been everything a sensitive gay artistic boy could want. A month to the day after they had met Ethan made love to him. He called it their anniversary. It was so romantic and sweet. Justin told his parents he was spending the night with Daphne. He and Ethan had drank wine. Ethan had played the violin for him, then he’d slowly undressed him and made love to him tenderly kissing him as he took his virginity. It had been so sweet, so loving, but Justin had felt that it lacked something. That it should have been more. Still he was caught up in the idea of being in his first major love. He had adored Ethan. He’d worshipped him. When he graduated from high school and told his parents he was Gay his father had thrown him out of the house. Ethan had taken him in. For a while he’d been like the little housewife. Ethan had earned money playing his violin on the street or in the parks. Justin stayed at home cooked, cleaned and catered to Ethan’s every want. Eventually the money shortage had gotten the best of him. He was used to having spending money. He hadn’t like depending on Ethan to support him. Although he had a scholarship for college he’d gotten a job at the Big Q to help with the bills and to support himself. He thought everything was perfect. That he and Ethan would have the perfect life together. He almost laughed at his naivety. Ethan had seemed so mature and worldly back then. How a year changed things. Now he felt as old as Ethan. Along the way he had stopped adoring and worshiping Ethan. Ethan’s ego had been bruised by that development. The newness had worn off his relationship with Ethan. Lately Justin needed more. Something much, much more. Something Ethan didn’t seem able to give him. He’d surprised Ethan about six months ago by taking over a little more each day in their relationship. Now he topped Ethan just as often as the other way around. As much as he wanted to pound into Ethan’s ass and fuck him into the mattress he didn’t. He knew it wasn’t the kind of fucking Ethan wanted. Hell, Ethan didn’t even call what they were doing fucking. He called it making love. Justin had told Ethan last month he was tired of making love. He wanted to fuck and get fucked. Maybe that’s why Ethan had sought out another. The guy Eric had looked young and idealistic like he used to be at 17 years old. Maybe Ethan needed to be adored to have someone look up to him to be in awe of him. Justin was no longer in awe of him. To be exact Justin realized he was never in love with him. He loved the sweet words, the romantic gestures. He loved the fact that Ethan had been sweet and gentle when he introduced him to sex. But now it was time to move on. “So, you were angry at me and decided to fuck another guy on our *anniversary?* Justin asked snidely. “Eric called and I mentioned how disappointed I was that you were working late. Eric came over to keep me company. He was being supportive and one thing just led to another.” “And the next thing you knew your dick was up his ass. Is that about it?” Justin asked sarcastically. Ethan let out a long dramatic sigh. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand. That you would blame me for this fiasco.” He looked over at the sour expression on Ethan’s face. Experience told him Ethan would never accept the blame for his mistakes. He realized as tired as he was he didn’t want to stay here and deal with Ethan’s mood. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Ethan whined running behind him. Justin stopped long enough to turn around and answer his question. “Anywhere as long as it isn’t here.” “We need to talk.” Ethan told him. Justin’s eyes swept over Ethan’s body. He was fair skinned with curly dark hair and soulful dark eyes. He wasn’t very tall and he was a little flabby around the middle. He was cute and add that to all his romantic gestures and Justin could tell how he had first fallen for him. The blinders were gone and he saw Ethan for what he was. Ethan’s ego needed someone to adore him and worship him. Justin had stopped. Ethan went out and found someone else that would. “I’ll be back in a day or two for my things. It’s over Ethan. It has been for a long time.” Justin told him quietly. With those words Justin shut the door on Ethan’s outraged expression. Justin wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking. Although he had wanted to end the relationship it didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt that it was over. Ethan would always have a special place in his heart. He was his first. Justin didn’t want him to be his only or his last. The traffic was light and there were few people on the streets. It was a chilly autumn day. The brisk cold air felt good against his skin. He’d needed it to clear his mind and the walk had accomplished that. Now he was tired and needed to get some rest. He had school in a couple of hours and work after that. A light drizzle had started and he didn’t have a hat. His hair was beginning to stick to his head as little droplets of rain ran down his face. He stopped to take in his surroundings. He’d walked quite a distance. It didn’t take him long to figure out he wasn’t far from his best friend Daph’s apartment. Walked a few more blocks and cut through an alley. He pulled his telephone out of his pocket and pressed her number into it and waited for her to answer. “Hello,” she answered her voice thick with sleep. “Hey, Daph. Can I come over?” “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Justin could hear the worry in his best friend’s voice. “I’m okay.” He assure her. “When I got home from work tonight I caught Ethan fucking another guy.” “Noooo!” She no longer sounded sleepy. “Yes! We had a major argument and I left. I just need a place to crash for a few nights until I can find a place to stay.” “I have a futon in the living room. It’s all yours.” Daph was lucky in that her parents were paying her rent in an off campus apartment. “I’m less than 5 minutes away.” “Where are you?” She asked. Justin could hear her in the background moving around. She was probably getting out of bed, lighting a cigarette. “Cutting through the alley behind your building.” Justin stopped and looked at the two men a few feet away from him near the dumpster behind Daph’s apartment building. They were passing something maybe and envelope between them. Justin had a clear view of them. His artistic eye took in every nuance of their face and the dark clothing they wore. One guy was very tall with dark hair and the other guy was a little shorter, a little stockier. Both of them seemed to notice him at the same time. Justin was still walking although now his steps had slowed. It was just something about the look on their faces or the way they were looking at him. He knew something wasn’t right. He vaguely registered Daph’s voice on the phone. “The security door isn’t working. I’ll have to come down to let you in. So, tell me about the guy Ethan was fucking. Was he like this total loser? He couldn’t have been hotter than you are. No one is.” His friend’s words of praise and support would have uplifted him if he wasn’t realizing he was in danger. “Daph, I think I’m in trouble.” “What?!!!! Justin what’s wrong?” Justin could hear the fear in Daph’s voice but he couldn’t answer her question. It seemed like it all happened in slow motion. He saw the two men and turned to escape only to be grabbed by the smaller one. He struggled with him and for a second Justin thought he was free he thought he’d be able to make it to Daph’s building. “Justin!” He heard Daph scream his name in fear. He turned just as the plank connected with the side of his head. The telephone slipped from his fingers. He heard it shattering on the concrete path. There was a moment of the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced. Then he was falling and the pain was gone as the darkness engulfed him. ------------ Carl had been sitting at his desk going over his notes. He shared and office with his partner Jim Stockwell. They had been at the hospital most of the morning. The victim was Justin Taylor, white male, 18 years old, PIFA college student. No drugs were found in his system. He had no known enemies. He wasn’t a hustler. Just a kid on his way to his friend’s apartment and got hit in the head. It had the ear markings of a Gay bashing. Carl was inclined to label it as such. He had taken a statement from Justine’s friend, Daphne Chanders. She’d been talking to Justin when the crime occurred. She said it had only been a couple of minutes after she’d lost contact with him before she’d alerted the security guard in her building and they’d found Justin. She said Justin’s last words to her were “I’m in trouble.” Then she’d heard this sickening crunch and the line went dead. They’d found Justin lying on the ground with blood pooling around his head. Carl hadn’t questioned her more the kid was too shaken. She’d found her best friend bleeding to death behind her building and didn’t know if he’d live or die. She was at the hospital in a pair of pajama’s covered in Justin’s blood. The paramedics said they had to pry her away from him so that they could load him on the stretcher. She’d rode in the ambulance to the hospital. He could tell that she was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Stockwell wanted to press Daphne for more details about the car she had seen leaving the scene but Carl made him leave her alone. He didn’t think Daphne could tell them anymore than she had. Daphne had told them Justin was estranged from his family. Although after being notified of her son’s condition the mother did show up tearful and distraught. Even the boyfriend had come to the hospital just as tearful and distraught as the mother. The kid had survived the surgery to stuff his brain back in his skull and to release the blood formulating beneath the skull. After surgery he was moved to the intensive care unit where he would remain probably for several weeks. He hadn’t regained consciousness and the doctors had told them they didn’t hold out much hope that he would. Carl looked over at the blood covered wooden plank wrapped in plastic and the broken cellular telephone in a baggie that had been found near Justin. It wasn’t much to go on but it was all they had. “You ask me it’s just another Fag on Fag crime thing. You know how emotional and erratic those Fags are Carl. The black girl…..Daphne said he and his lover…Ethan had and argument and Justin was coming to her house. The little Fag’s boyfriend probably caught up with him. They argued some more and then that Ethan fag bashed in his skull. The end of the story.” Carl stared at his homophobic partner and wondered for the thousandth time how he managed to put up with the guy for the last 9 years. “Jim I’d appreciate it if you kept your view on Gays to yourself. As for the part about the boyfriend it doesn’t add up. The cops’ say when they got to the apartment the kid Gold was playing his violin. The neighbors say he’d been playing it for well over an hour. Plus he had no blood on him and there was no blood found in the apartment. Ethan didn’t have enough time to run behind Justin, bash him in the head, run back home wash the blood of himself, change clothes, dry his hair--don’t forget it was raining and discard his bloody clothes. Cops say the kid hair as greasy but not wet. Besides Daphne said she saw a dark four-door sedan pulling off when she and the security guard reached Justin. The Gold kid doesn’t drive.” Stockwell shrugged. Carl could tell he was bored with the crime. Jim didn’t care much about what happened in the Gay community unless it adversely affected him. A fag being hit in the head and at death’s door had no bearings on his life. Therefore he didn’t care whether the crime was solved. “Well, we don’t have a lot to go on until that kid—Justin Taylor regains consciousness. From what the doctor’s have said that doesn’t seem likely. In the meantime we have some real crimes that need our attention. I say we focus on them.” Carl let out an exasperated sigh. He knew he could lecture Jim again but it wouldn’t help. The guy was a homophobic prick and nothing he could say or do would change that. Carl pointed to the items wrapped in plastic, “I’m going to get those downstairs. Maybe forensic can find some finger prints or something on them.” Carl could tell Jim had already lost interest. He had his head buried in another file. Jim was more interested in cases that would help him politically. Solving the crime of a gay kid getting hit in the head wasn’t the type of cases that made political careers. Jim had already told Carl he wanted to be police chief and then run for mayor. Carl had to admit Jim was certainly kissing the right asses to do it. Jim should become a fag himself as many asses as he’d kissed. Carl smiled at his own joke. Jim would shoot him if he knew he’d even thought that. Carl picked up the evidence and took it downstairs. He didn’t know why Jim had brought the stuff up to the office. It wasn’t procedure. It should have been taken away from the crime scene by the forensic team. He hoped it hadn’t been contaminated. For a week Justin was the main topic on the local news. The headlines in the newspaper and on TV was *Gay college student bashed.* There were pictures and footage of Daphne and his mother leaving the hospital. Reporters had spoken to the police, EMT’s, residents of Daphne and Justin’s building and even the doctors were in the spot light. By the middle of the week interest in Justin was weaning. By the end of the week Justin was barely a blimp on the news or the local paper. For weeks Carl had checked with the hospital. Personally going by to see Justin. He had been moved from the intensive care unit but he hadn’t regained consciousness. Carl was assured of running into the mother or Daphne when he stopped by in the evenings. For a few months Ethan had been at the hospital when Carl stopped by but after the months dragged on Ethan disappeared. Even the Father had made an appearance as long as the cameras were around. As soon as the cameras disappeared so did Craig Taylor *grieving* Father. Forensics drew a big zero on the blank. Nothing was found on the plank or the cellular telephone but Justin’s blood and fingerprints. No one came forward with any information and Daphne couldn’t think of anything that she hadn’t already told the cops. The case grew cold. After a few months Carl had other cases he had to work. Although he didn’t forget about Justin Taylor he had to move on to solve other crimes.