Re: Brian/Margaret
"I know!" Brian said smirking. "But he's really rich, totally loaded rich, not that he's ever said it, but you can tell from the way he acts. He wasn't living off an officer's salary, that's for sure."
He grinned. "Of course I am. Famous for that, or infamous. Everyone knew me in the gay community in Pittsburgh, and not just because I fucked most of them, but I also ran a club there, a real one, not like here." He took another sip of the drink and then snorted. "Just because you're ancient, it doesn't mean I'm not old. Now there, that's the age," he said pointing toward John with the glass. He has the whole world in front of him." He turned his head to look at Margaret. "If only I could corrupt him. He's way too serious."
Brian shrugged. "More like a word we were using fifteen years ago. Now we're into this post racial, post every fucking discrimination bullshit world. We all love each other, don't you know?" He hated political correctness. He looked at her again and shook his head. "No, God doesn't love him for it. God doesn't give a shit that you're brave or forward, he doesn't give a shit when you get beaten, punched, kicked, set on fire and killed. Your grandson is just lucky that he had people to protect him, because no matter what he went through, there are thousands of kids that have it a lot worse, that are left without parents, money or a house. It wasn't God that gave a shit; it was his family and the secret service."