BETAED BY: girloftheburbs, second reading positive_pat; buzziecat.
BANNER BY: ohfreckle
TIMELINE: Year: 2074; 60 years Post-Chapter One's timeline.
WORD COUNT: 2366 words.
WARNING: Be advised that this is a REINCARNATION fic; B/J will have a happy ending of course.
DISCLAIMER: Brian/Justin and QAF are not my property. They are creations of COWLIP and ShowTime.
SYNOPSIS: Brian and Justin traveled into the stormy night never knowing the road ahead of them. A tragic accident took their lives. A promise was made before their last breath were taken. Over 60 years had passed, will the soul mates find each other? And if they did, would they remember the promise that was made that night of tragedy. Their destiny is about to prove that their love has no boundaries...
A/N: I've been working on this story for the past week. This story had been betaed so many times and under-went a few changes but they are for the better (I think.) Thank you very much to all my betas and friends for the suggestions. This chapter have not been proofread after I made changes so ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE. To those who've read the first version, you will notice a change in the story but I hope that it won't discourage you to read the other chapters. Will be posting chapter 3 in a couple of days to give everyone a chance to read the first and second chapters. You won't be seeing any new B/J stories from me (except maybe for some drabbles) because I've decided to focus on this story. It's been ages and this story is giving me nightmares already. I NEED TO FINISH IT.
I hope you're still interested in this story.
Love is appreciated!
NO BOUNDARIES Part One
"Know, therefore, that from the greater silence I shall return… Forget not that I shall come back to you… A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me."
- Kahlil Gibran-
2. A letter from the Foundation.
Kinnetik and Co., Pittsburgh, PA.Andrew Brian Kinney, or Brian, as his friends and family calls him, usually starts his day at the office with a bundle of mail. Today, the first one he opened was from the CEO of a very prestigious airline company in the United States. The letter thanked Brian and the firm for the outstanding campaign created for the airline. After reading the first mail, Brian went through the others one by one. Once in a while, he would look up, his hazel eyes catching the rays of sunlight coming through his office windows and to his table. The natural light hit the plate that had his name and title embedded on. As President of Kinnetik and Co., Brian was considered as one of the youngest and most successful businessman in the east coast. He owned 70% and ran the firm that was originally known as Kinnetik; an advertising agency that was established by his grandfather's father and had been in Brian's family for over 70 years.
Brian, at 29, wasn't only the youngest and the most successful in the field of advertising, but he was also one of the bests. His passion and devotion for his job was unmeasurable as he lived to work with both small and big clients. His fresh ideas matched his natural talent with playing with words; one of the many great factors to Kinnetik and Co.'s success and continuous expansion.
Brian opened and read all his mail but one which sat on top of his handsome table. The letter was as if watching him intently, waiting to be opened.
It read “Young LGBT Foundation” on the front, and on the back “To Mr. Andrew B. Kinney Jr.”, written in perfect golden script.
It took his brain a minute to process any command. Finally he pressed the button for the intercom.
“Cara, when did we receive the letter from the foundation?”
“Yesterday afternoon, after you left for your meeting with Iconoptics,” Cara, Brian's assistant, referred to one of the company's very old and important clients.
“Thanks, Cara.” Brian cut the line off.
For a minute Brian sat in silence, pondering thoughts that the unexpected letter from the foundation has raised.
Kinnetik and Co. has been a big part of The Young LGBT foundation, an organization founded years ago in Pittsburg and worked with the young population within the community in the tri-state area. The firm has been supporting the foundation since Brian's grandfather, Gus Petersen was president of the company until the old man's death. The tradition was continued by Brian's father, Andrew (Gus' only son) and it was carried on when Brian took over the company after his father's death.
In return, yearly the foundation honors its sponsors and supporters. At the foundation's last annual gathering , Brian was one of the supporters that was recognized.
Swallowing, Brian finally reached to open the last letter. The crisp handmade paper felt rough on his finger tips; there was a hint of earth in its scent. He unfolded the rich paper and read the embossed characters.
In honor of your support to the The Young LGBT Foundation we are presenting you an extraordinary gift from one of New York’s renowned artists and foundations pride--”
Brian continued to read the message, stopping when he read a familiar name. Etched in gold ink, the name was written in script as well. He ran his index finger on top of name and as he read the additional note stating that the artist will be contacting him soon, his stomach tightened.
Aside from being the youngest and one of the most successful persons in the industry, Brian was also infamous for being the most elusive and most private of all successful people in the east coast. He rarely gave out interviews and usually sent people to appear in occasions he had been invited to. Like the foundation's annual celebration which every year he purposely missed.
He offered people no reason, no explanation to his behaviour. And some people didn't ask but most speculated different theories as to why one of the riches, single sons of Pittsburg act the way he act. Maybe he was just eccentric, they said. Or just couldn't be bothered. Some shrugged their shoulders and thought Brian had all the money and fortune in the world and that Brian probably thought he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Others just simply don't give a damn.
That was good enough for Brian. He didn't deny nor confirm.
What was important to him was what he knew. And he knew that he didn't like his privacy being invaded. Whatever the reason was, he didn't need to explain it to anybody.
A heavy feeling sat on Brian's chest as he thought of another person invading his precious private life. He suddenly felt he couldn't let this happen but then reminded himself that it was going to be temporary. He had long avoided direct contact to the foundation-- and any other foundation, as a matter of fact-- maybe he could give in just this once...
How hard could it be? He asked himself.
The letter clearly stated that the artist from New York, who was a famous painter, by the way, would be creating a piece for him. The letter wasn't really specific as to what kind of piece... There was no way the Foundation would've known what kind of art interests him as they never spoken to them... They did try to contact him before the annual event but he never got back to them, Cara did. Maybe Cara had given them information regarding this gift. Brian doubted it as Cara would've told him. That was one great thing he liked about his personal assistant, she knew who's side she was in. His curiousity deepens as he thought of the artist's speciality and then he realized he knew the artist. Well, not personally but he knew that the artist was known for his breath-taking portraits. He didn't like portraits. Maybe he could have someone else's portrait painted then. After all, the services was a gift for him. And he always believed that once something's given in your possession, you can do whatever you want with it.
A slight smile appeared on Brian's lips. This wasn't going to be bad after all. Still, he'd have to deal with the artist one way or another. He shook his head. The quicker he goes through this the better. He would try to get rid of the artist as soon as possible. Even if he had to use all his power to do so.
With the artist in mind, Brian stood up and walked over to the huge glass window of the office. He looked down at the city of Pittsburgh below him as he pondered old thoughts consisting of old, old memories he couldn't understand why were coming back now?
With a deep frown, he once again pressed the button for the intercom.
“An artist from New York City will be contacting me sometime this week; please take a note that I will be very busy. Take care all of the arrangements for him to get from New York to the manor.”
“Consider it done, Brian.”
“Oh and Cara--”
“The artist’s name is Justin Taylor.”
Britin. Brian was extremely tired and it was rather late when he got home. The manor was dark and quiet when he entered and once inside, he felt comforted.
The manor would do that to you... Gus would tell him when he was little. Gus claimed that the manor was the most comfortable house in Pennsylvania. It was big, it was open and most importantly it was taken cared of by people who loved it, Gus said. And the house felt it hence returned the favor. The memory made Brian smile.
The manor which he lived in was a big part of his childhood and a great reminder of his grandfather's stories...
Brian often heard of the story about the lovers who died in each others’ arms on New Year’s Eve over 60 years ago. His grandfather told him about the tragedy and the two men involved... How they lived; how they loved. How they were torn apart so many times, but always found each other again, that even in their deaths they were together. He couldn’t grasp the idea of a young child remembering such vivid memories. Gus was only twelve years old when his father died, but Gus remembered his old man so well. Gus told him how he remembered memories of his father as far as when he was 2 years old. A child’s brain was such a magnificent and efficient machine. It was like a sponge that absorbed information, stored memories and experiences that later in life would play a big part in constructing that person’s ideals, dreams, principles and beliefs.
How many times has he been introduced to Brian Kinney’s ghost?
"You look exactly like him!"
"You talk and act just like him."
Yes, he heard it so many times. He heard it enough times that there was a point in his life when he would look at himself in the mirror and asked himself who he really was.
Brian brought his hand to his face and rubbed the beard that he had let grow for as long as he could remember. Was this his way of disconnecting himself from the late Kinney’s shadow? He let this mask cover his face and what was behind it.
He took his tie off as he looked around the manor he inherited from his grandfather. It was Gus’ father who bought and took care of this home. It was kept clean in the same way it had been since Gus' father lived here.
Brian walked upstairs driven by sudden remembrance of the past, he entered one of the biggest rooms in the house; the art studio. It's completed with all the art materials one could ever imagine. He had always been fond of this room; he felt warm and comfortable whenever he was here. Growing up he would visit Gus and sit in this room with the old man while he listened to stories about the past-- about Gus' childhood which always led to Gus' father. His grandfather obviously was very fond of his father as the old man told him every story he knew of the late Brian Kinney. He never understood the warmth Gus’ stories brought him. All he knew was that he didn’t mind listening to them, and often he would find himself asking questions--and correcting Gus--with a lot of the facts about certain stories. He remembered the first time the old man told him the story about his father attending a high school prom. They were here, in this same room…
“They danced beautifully according to the people who were there. It was romantic--”
“I thought he didn’t like romantic stuff like that?” He looked up at Gus as he twirled one of the paint brushes in the palm of his hand.
“He would like for people to think so.”
“And yet, he enjoyed dancing to The Drifters,” Brian whispered, his expression was far away.
The paint brush fell from his hand.
"Brian, who told you that?!" Gus held him by his shoulder and shook him lightly.
“Told me what, Grandpa?” He woke up from his trance.
Brian shivered at the thought especially remembering how he had realized what was happening to him as he grew older. He realized he was remembering memories. Old memories. Memories that did not happen just yesterday or the day before.
It terrified him. He did not tell anyone about it, even his grandfather. Not especially his parents who never really understood him. At some point, the memories became nightmares and he decided that he took Gus’ stories too seriously. Because of this, he saw Gus less and less, but the flashbacks and the ‘imaginations’, as he once called them, continued and became more intense.
He then changed. He coiled within himself as he did not know where to turn, confused and irritated with his nightmares. His parents paid him little mind so his behaviour had gone unnoticed. Approaching his teenage years, he became a loner and at this point his desire to keep things to himself backfired and he fell into depression. There was nowhere to turn to but Gus found him... Like the old man always did... He still refused to talk about what was going on with him but once again he welcomed his grandfather's stories.
And with a more open-mind, he was somehow able to determine where he needed to start, where to begin to figure out what was happening to him. He began to read about dreams. He learned to interpret them; learned to remember every detail of every scene... He kept reading. Every single day he learned something new. Every week he found out more and it helped him cope and understand his dreams. Years passed, his dreams remained but they became a lot subtle and they visit him sporadically. Although, it still remained a secret he fed with continuous information he learned from various books he read. And then one summer day when he was 18, exactly a year before Gus passed away, he had come across an ideal he'd read about when he was a teenager but didn't think applied to him. No, he told himself. He had considered it but he was too afraid, to terrified to even go there: reincarnation. It left him baffled up to this date. It took one word for his whole being to be shaken out of proportion.
Could it be?
Brian closed the door to the art room shut, confused as to why he was thinking about these things? Yes, it was the manor. The manor could do it to him...
But why now? He asked himself. It had been a while since he had a dream or had he thought about the time when he had them almost every night.
Brian walked to his bedroom as memories from the past filled his heart and soul. An echo of an old promise uttered was whispered in his ear...
NO BOUNDARIES Part Three