Justin

Justin has lived in a lot of places, he's lived on the road, but he's never had what he considered a real home. Or maybe his perception of 'home' is skewed: 'home' is where you leave the crap you no longer need, 'home' is the point of origin that has no relation to your present. That's all changing now, Eleanor has given him 'home', not just this house, but a whole life, something to protect, something he'd rather die than abandon. It would be paradise, perhaps, if she didn't leave for work every morning, but his hours alone aren't really 'lonely'...Justin has never been lonely, can't even imagine what that would feel like. Before Eleanor, he was most content when by himself, and even now that he has Eleanor, the time she's away isn't empty of her. When he's alone, he has her memory, her image, he has the whole day to devote to doing things for her, about her, in her service. He has things to do to occupy his restless hands, a large house to keep in meticulous order, a kitchen he loves working in, and he has his photos, which he's been taking more of, since Eleanor liked them so much. Justin certainly enjoys playing with them, endlessly fascinated by the little sliders in the editing program, tweaking colors & effects subtly, or dramatically. He'll be at it for hours without realizing the passing time. He'll save particularly interesting ones for Eleanor to look at & print, but Justin doesn't really think of them as 'finished' pictures that way, but more like the games he plays: it's an experience, watching the colors move, the effects change as he layers over them. The pictures she prints are like game screenshots, one still image of something that should be seen in motion...but she likes them, so Justin remembers to save copies as he goes along. She's not as interested in his game screenshots, even the really bloody, violent ones, so he's stopped bothering with those.

Eleanor tells him she & Gavin are opening an art gallery together: Justin has been to a few of those with her. Art isn't his thing, he doesn't understand why she likes some pictures & despises others. He doesn't think much of the gallery parties, 'appetizers' he doesn't like watching people eat, 'art' he doesn't care about & people milling around talking about it in terms he doesn't even want to try to understand. Despite all that, Justin loves taking her to these things, loves watching her getting into her thing. Anything that sparks her, sparks him. "I want to do your catering, Elle," Justin says, leaping onto the new opportunity as it presents itself. Eleanor smiles & tells him it's a brilliant idea. "I'm sure Gavin will agree," she says.

Gavin agrees readily, even calls Justin to tell him how much he misses his cooking & how happy he is he'll be part of the gallery. So Justin has come to look forward to their first show, planning a menu of appetizers & finger foods that will put the other galleries to shame with their sorry looking cheese trays. Then Eleanor tells him she & Gavin want to show his pictures for their grand opening, his pictures of her. Gavin is always taking pictures of his girlfriends, and he isn't shy about showing them to everyone: Justin hadn't for one second considered his pictures of Eleanor as being anything like what Gavin does, and doesn't want to now. "You showed our pictures to Gavin?" he asks in a horrified whisper, trying not to want to hit Gavin really hard for daring to look at that much of his Eleanor's skin...And not just Gavin, she wants to put them on display in their gallery. "Eleanor, those pictures are just for us, I never wanted them in some art show, I'm not sure I want to let you do this," he says. She cuddles in close to him, strokes & pets him, and tells him his 'work' too special to keep to themselves. It's kind of like she's speaking another language: nothing is 'too special' to keep to themselves, like their love, it's no one's but theirs, it's not something for others to share...her words make no sense, but he understands her tone, her emotion, her love comes through in her touch. "Why don't you show your paintings, Elle? Why does it have to be the photos?" he asks, and if not her own paintings, or Gavin's pictures, then why not all those others artists out there, L.A. is full of them, like every city he's lived in: at least three of the others who worked for Xaviera had their paintings, photos, sculptures & weird what nots they were always trying to get in shows. Eleanor blushes at the suggestion, "My paintings are at best competent nude studies, Justin, your work is real art," she says, talking to him like he really was an artist. "It's not 'my work' Elle, it's just pictures of us. It's no one's business but ours. You know if it's important to you, I'll go along with this. But I can't promise to like it," he says, agreeing because he won't disappoint her, no matter what. He won't enjoy having people milling around, looking at his pictures of Eleanor, talking about them while they sip their wine, he doesn't understand why she wants to show them to others like that, but she's made it clear how very much she wants it.

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