Makes Me Wonder
Aug. 16th, 2007 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oh_ameliaTitle: I Predict a Riot
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hsbfc
Chapter: 10/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, sex
Summary: Totally AU. Justin asks Brian for his help after Ethan won’t leave him alone. How far will Brian go to help the blond? And how far will Ethan go to make sure Justin is his?
Disclaimer: QUEER AS FOLK is property of COWLIP and SHOWTIME. I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: The title was inspired by Maroon 5’s song MAKES ME WONDER, but has nothing else to do with the song. And I want to say thanks to my wonderful betaelyxer. You rock! Without your encouragement I would not be writing. THANKS and I love ya!
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9
“What the fuck do you want?” Ethan asked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.
“We need to talk,” Michael repeated as he pushed past Ethan.
“And this couldn’t wait, why?” Ethan shut the door and turned on the light.
“You told me you were just going to look around; go through Justin’s shit. If I’d known you were going to fucking rob the place, I would’ve never say yes!”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Who got robbed?” Ethan was still trying to wake up, and make sense of what Michael was saying.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Michael snorted.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking!”
“”I’m talking about you robbing Brian’s loft!”
“Are you high?” Ethan asked, now fully awake. “I didn’t rob Brian.”
“Yeah right,” Michael said as he looked around the apartment.
“Okay then.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “Say I did do it. Where the hell would I put anything? Huh? It’s not like I have a plethora of space here.”
Michael had to admit Ethan had a point there. A twin bed sat on shipping crates, and a small table with two chairs took up most the living area. There was a music stand by the window, and a violin case was propped up against the wall.
“How do I know you didn’t stash it somewhere else?” Michael asked. “You could’ve just put it in storage somewhere.”
“With what? My super secret stash of money?” Ethan asked sarcastically. “I can barely afford my rent. Do you honestly think I’d spring for a storage unit? And who’s to say that you didn’t do it yourself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Brian is my best friend.”
“Is that your argument for everything? ‘Brian is my best friend’,” Ethan mimicked.
“Just give him back his stuff!”
“I. Don’t. Have. It. God!” Ethan yelled. “And I don’t have time for this shit. I have my own problems I have to deal with now.”
“What? Your right hand finally say no?”
“No.” Ethan glared at Michael. “This guy I fucked in Harrisburg last month showed up at my door earlier tonight. I only got rid of him like, an hour ago.”
“And…?”
“He showed up with a bouquet of roses telling me how much he loves me. How we had a connection.” Ethan shook his head. “He’s delusional. We only fucked one time!”
Michael couldn’t help but snicker. “Does the situation sound somewhat…familiar to you?”
“Fuck you! What I have with Justin is different. We actually did have a connection.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Michael said. “Do what you want, but just stay away from Brian.”
“Don’t think you can come in here, start accusing me of things, and then tell me what I can or can’t do,” Ethan said angrily. “Unless you want it to slip that it was you who gave me a key and the alarm code to your best friend’s loft.”
“You wouldn’t do that. You don’t have the balls,” Michael scoffed. “Anyway, if you did, you’d only be setting yourself up to take the fall for the robbery. Everyone knows you have motive.”
“Brian would never trust you again,” Ethan countered.
That shut Michael up. He didn’t know what he’d do if Brian didn’t trust him. “Fine.” He relented, and threw his hands up in defeat. “Give me back the key.”
“I don’t have it,” Ethan said through clenched teeth.
“What do you mean you don’t have it?”
“It must have fallen out of my pants pocket,” Ethan answered. “I didn’t know there was a hole in them until I went to get the money for my breakfast and it wasn’t there.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Michael pushed his hair off his forehead. “Give me back the damn fucking key!”
“How many times am I going to have to tell you that I. Don’t. Have. It.” Ethan crossed his arms and leaned against the small counter.
Michael scrunched up his nose and looked at Ethan. He couldn’t tell if the kid was lying or not. “I’m going now, but don’t think I won’t be watching you,” he said as he made his way to the door.
“I’ll be looking for you,” Ethan said, the sarcasm back in his voice, as he slammed the door in Michael’s face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Justin woke up Sunday morning to the sound of someone, or something, banging on the loft door. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Brian through the partitions before making his way to the shower.
Brian stood barefoot in jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, drinking coffee from a take-out cup as he supervised the installation of a new lock. He’d already changed the alarm code, and the only other person who knew it was Justin.
“All done, Mr. Kinney.”
“Good,” Brian said as he threw his empty cup in the trash.
“Now, I only have two keys so—”
“That’s all I need.”
“Well, here you go,” the locksmith said as he handed Brian a ring with two new keys on it. “I’ll send the bill in the mail.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brian said as he made his way to the door. He grabbed the handle and closed it firmly behind the man.
Justin came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in sneakers, jeans and a light blue shirt, and took the guava juice out of the fridge. It wasn’t until he had the cap off that he realized that there wasn’t anything to pour it in.
“Don’t even think about it,” Brian said.
“Think about what?” Justin asked as he screwed the cap back on.
“Drinking from the bottle.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Justin said, even though he’d almost considered it. “You wouldn’t happen to have any coffee left, would you?”
“Nope,” Brian answered. “Now come on. We’re already late.”
“Late for what?” Justin asked slowly as he pulled on his jacket.
“I have appointments this morning to get fitted for some new suits. And we still have to pick up some stuff for you.”
“Well, mine won’t take that long,” Justin said. “I didn’t have that much to start with.”
“Oh,” Brian said as he set the alarm and locked the door. “There’s no fucking way that we’re going to Old Navy.”
“That’s fine.” Justin shrugged. “Wal-Mart works for me.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He knew he shouldn’t be doing this so soon after, but he needed the money. Hopefully he was far enough outside of Pittsburgh that the store owner wouldn’t have been tipped off yet. He didn’t even know if the cops did that.
Dressed in his nicest clothes, he took a deep breath and opened the door to the pawnshop.
“Can I help you?” A tall, muscular man with light brown hair and wire frame glasses looked up from the newspaper he was reading.
“Yes,” he said, lifting the duffle bag and Brian’s garment bag on the counter. “I was wondering if you would be interested in purchasing some fine Armani suits?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait for my brother,” the man said. “He owns the place. I’m just watching it for him while he makes a delivery.”
“Oh, do you know how long he’ll be?”
“Should be back any minute if you want to wait.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t have any of those suits in that duffle bag, do you?”
“Yes,” he answered slowly.
“Brandon will never buy them if he sees you take those suits out of there.”
“Shit!” He pulled the suits from the bag and hung them on the coat hangers he brought.
“Wire hangers?”
“What’s wrong with wire hangers?”
“You obviously don’t know too much about Italian clothing,” the man laughed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say these aren’t yours.”
“Uh no,” he said. “My sister just got divorced. She took all his clothes as part of the settlement.”
“That’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t have much in the way of anything else.” The lies continued to roll off his tongue. “His clothes were the most important thing to him, so she decided to hit him where it’d hurt the most.”
“Okay,” the man said slowly. “So, what do you do?”
“Me? I—”
The bell above the door rang and a man with long, dirty blond hair entered the store.
“Ben, are you hitting on the customers again? We’ve had this talk before.”
“Fuck off, Brandon, “Ben said as he folded up his newspaper and headed to the back office.
“Can I help you?” Brandon asked as he opened the register and slid and envelope under the cash drawer.
“S-suits,” he stuttered. “I’m selling some suits.”
“Let me have a look.” Brandon opened the garment bag and inspected the suits. He moved on to the other suits and frowned. “These are wrinkled. I’d have to get them dry-cleaned. And get some decent hangers.”
He nodded and hoped that he’d still get a decent amount of money for them.
“I’ll give you $2000 for all of them.”
“What? They are worth more than that,” he exclaimed. “Collectively, they are worth well over $14,000!”
“True,” Brandon agreed. “But they are also used and half of these are so last season.”
”C’mon,” he whined. “They have to be worth more than that.”
“Two thousand. Take it, or leave it,” Brandon said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fine. I’ll take it,” he said dejectedly.
“Great. Now who should I make the check out to?”
“Would it be possible to get it in cash? I’m in between banks right now so…”
“Yeah, sure. Why not.”
“Thanks.” He sighed with relief.
Brandon took a pad out of the drawer and wrote up a ticket for the sale. “Okay, now if you’ll just sign at the bottom.”
“Sign,” he squeaked.
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded.
“Okay,” he said, picking up the pen. He cracked his knuckles, hoping to buy more time.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “My hand just cramps up sometimes,” he said before signing an illegible name at the bottom. “There,” he said, pushing the pad back across the counter.
Brandon counted out the money in crisp $100 bills. “Thanks for your business. Come back soon.”
“I will,” he said as he folded the bills and stuffed them in his pocket. He pulled open the door and made his way around the corner, letting his heart rate return to normal.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Oh, my God,” Justin groaned as he sat down next to Emmett.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Emmett asked.
“Why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Justin asked as he buried his head in his arms.
“What did you do, Brian?”
“Nothing,” Brian answered innocently, as he slid in the booth next to Ted. “We just did a little shopping.”
“He’s worse than Daphne,” Justin said as he raised his head off the table. “He puts her to shame.”
“Brian, you didn’t,” Ted accused him.
“He’s the one who offered to come with me,” Brian defended himself.
“I hate you,” Justin said as he signaled for a waiter.
“You always say the nicest things.” Brian smirked. “Turkey on whole wheat, no mayo and a water,” he told Kiki.
“Bacon cheeseburger, chili and cheese fires, a coke, and could I have some coffee too, please.”
“Okay, it’ll be right out,” Kiki said as she tore the ticket off and went to the kitchen.
“What?” Justin asked when he felt three pairs of eyes on him. “Don’t knock it til you try it.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Ted said.
“Here you go.” Kiki said as she put a cup of coffee in front of Justin.
“Thanks.” Justin smiled at the waitress and took a sip of his drink. “Oh, God, “he said, wiping his mouth and setting the cup down. “I think my esophagus is melting.”
“Oh, yeah.” “ Emmett sucked in his breath. “I forgot that Deb isn’t here. You do not want to drink Kiki’s coffee.”
Justin handed Kiki back the cup when she brought out the other drinks.
“So, where’s Mikey?” Brian asked.
“He’s at the chiropractor, “”Ted answered. “He fell off a ladder the other day in the store and hurt his back. His friend Tracy knows someone who knows someone, so he was able to get right in.”
“What the fuck was he doing on a ladder?”
“He said he was putting up a banner, but I guess he must have taken it down,” Emmett said. “Because I didn’t notice anything different.”
“Probably just more Captain Astro stuff,” Brian said.
“”Who’s Captain Astro?” Justin asked.
“It’s a good thing Michael isn’t here,” Emmett said. “He’d have an aneurysm.”
“Well, it’s not like he’s asking who Zack O’Toole is,” Ted commented.
“Who’s Zack O’Toole?” Justin asked.
“What?” Ted’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets.
“Is he someone I should know? “Justin asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” Ted asked, shocked. “He’s only the biggest name in porn!”
Justin shrugged his shoulders.
“Ted, here, is our very own porn aficionado,” Brian said. “If there is gay porn out there, chances are he’s seen it.”
“I try my best,” Ted said with mock modesty.
“But really guys,” Justin said as he stirred his coke with a straw. “Who’s Zack O’Toole?”
Chapter 9 | Chapter 11
Author:
hsbfcChapter: 10/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, sex
Summary: Totally AU. Justin asks Brian for his help after Ethan won’t leave him alone. How far will Brian go to help the blond? And how far will Ethan go to make sure Justin is his?
Disclaimer: QUEER AS FOLK is property of COWLIP and SHOWTIME. I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: The title was inspired by Maroon 5’s song MAKES ME WONDER, but has nothing else to do with the song. And I want to say thanks to my wonderful beta
elyxer. You rock! Without your encouragement I would not be writing. THANKS and I love ya! PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9
“What the fuck do you want?” Ethan asked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.
“We need to talk,” Michael repeated as he pushed past Ethan.
“And this couldn’t wait, why?” Ethan shut the door and turned on the light.
“You told me you were just going to look around; go through Justin’s shit. If I’d known you were going to fucking rob the place, I would’ve never say yes!”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Who got robbed?” Ethan was still trying to wake up, and make sense of what Michael was saying.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Michael snorted.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking!”
“”I’m talking about you robbing Brian’s loft!”
“Are you high?” Ethan asked, now fully awake. “I didn’t rob Brian.”
“Yeah right,” Michael said as he looked around the apartment.
“Okay then.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “Say I did do it. Where the hell would I put anything? Huh? It’s not like I have a plethora of space here.”
Michael had to admit Ethan had a point there. A twin bed sat on shipping crates, and a small table with two chairs took up most the living area. There was a music stand by the window, and a violin case was propped up against the wall.
“How do I know you didn’t stash it somewhere else?” Michael asked. “You could’ve just put it in storage somewhere.”
“With what? My super secret stash of money?” Ethan asked sarcastically. “I can barely afford my rent. Do you honestly think I’d spring for a storage unit? And who’s to say that you didn’t do it yourself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Brian is my best friend.”
“Is that your argument for everything? ‘Brian is my best friend’,” Ethan mimicked.
“Just give him back his stuff!”
“I. Don’t. Have. It. God!” Ethan yelled. “And I don’t have time for this shit. I have my own problems I have to deal with now.”
“What? Your right hand finally say no?”
“No.” Ethan glared at Michael. “This guy I fucked in Harrisburg last month showed up at my door earlier tonight. I only got rid of him like, an hour ago.”
“And…?”
“He showed up with a bouquet of roses telling me how much he loves me. How we had a connection.” Ethan shook his head. “He’s delusional. We only fucked one time!”
Michael couldn’t help but snicker. “Does the situation sound somewhat…familiar to you?”
“Fuck you! What I have with Justin is different. We actually did have a connection.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Michael said. “Do what you want, but just stay away from Brian.”
“Don’t think you can come in here, start accusing me of things, and then tell me what I can or can’t do,” Ethan said angrily. “Unless you want it to slip that it was you who gave me a key and the alarm code to your best friend’s loft.”
“You wouldn’t do that. You don’t have the balls,” Michael scoffed. “Anyway, if you did, you’d only be setting yourself up to take the fall for the robbery. Everyone knows you have motive.”
“Brian would never trust you again,” Ethan countered.
That shut Michael up. He didn’t know what he’d do if Brian didn’t trust him. “Fine.” He relented, and threw his hands up in defeat. “Give me back the key.”
“I don’t have it,” Ethan said through clenched teeth.
“What do you mean you don’t have it?”
“It must have fallen out of my pants pocket,” Ethan answered. “I didn’t know there was a hole in them until I went to get the money for my breakfast and it wasn’t there.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Michael pushed his hair off his forehead. “Give me back the damn fucking key!”
“How many times am I going to have to tell you that I. Don’t. Have. It.” Ethan crossed his arms and leaned against the small counter.
Michael scrunched up his nose and looked at Ethan. He couldn’t tell if the kid was lying or not. “I’m going now, but don’t think I won’t be watching you,” he said as he made his way to the door.
“I’ll be looking for you,” Ethan said, the sarcasm back in his voice, as he slammed the door in Michael’s face.
Justin woke up Sunday morning to the sound of someone, or something, banging on the loft door. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Brian through the partitions before making his way to the shower.
Brian stood barefoot in jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, drinking coffee from a take-out cup as he supervised the installation of a new lock. He’d already changed the alarm code, and the only other person who knew it was Justin.
“All done, Mr. Kinney.”
“Good,” Brian said as he threw his empty cup in the trash.
“Now, I only have two keys so—”
“That’s all I need.”
“Well, here you go,” the locksmith said as he handed Brian a ring with two new keys on it. “I’ll send the bill in the mail.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brian said as he made his way to the door. He grabbed the handle and closed it firmly behind the man.
Justin came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in sneakers, jeans and a light blue shirt, and took the guava juice out of the fridge. It wasn’t until he had the cap off that he realized that there wasn’t anything to pour it in.
“Don’t even think about it,” Brian said.
“Think about what?” Justin asked as he screwed the cap back on.
“Drinking from the bottle.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Justin said, even though he’d almost considered it. “You wouldn’t happen to have any coffee left, would you?”
“Nope,” Brian answered. “Now come on. We’re already late.”
“Late for what?” Justin asked slowly as he pulled on his jacket.
“I have appointments this morning to get fitted for some new suits. And we still have to pick up some stuff for you.”
“Well, mine won’t take that long,” Justin said. “I didn’t have that much to start with.”
“Oh,” Brian said as he set the alarm and locked the door. “There’s no fucking way that we’re going to Old Navy.”
“That’s fine.” Justin shrugged. “Wal-Mart works for me.”
He knew he shouldn’t be doing this so soon after, but he needed the money. Hopefully he was far enough outside of Pittsburgh that the store owner wouldn’t have been tipped off yet. He didn’t even know if the cops did that.
Dressed in his nicest clothes, he took a deep breath and opened the door to the pawnshop.
“Can I help you?” A tall, muscular man with light brown hair and wire frame glasses looked up from the newspaper he was reading.
“Yes,” he said, lifting the duffle bag and Brian’s garment bag on the counter. “I was wondering if you would be interested in purchasing some fine Armani suits?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait for my brother,” the man said. “He owns the place. I’m just watching it for him while he makes a delivery.”
“Oh, do you know how long he’ll be?”
“Should be back any minute if you want to wait.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t have any of those suits in that duffle bag, do you?”
“Yes,” he answered slowly.
“Brandon will never buy them if he sees you take those suits out of there.”
“Shit!” He pulled the suits from the bag and hung them on the coat hangers he brought.
“Wire hangers?”
“What’s wrong with wire hangers?”
“You obviously don’t know too much about Italian clothing,” the man laughed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say these aren’t yours.”
“Uh no,” he said. “My sister just got divorced. She took all his clothes as part of the settlement.”
“That’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t have much in the way of anything else.” The lies continued to roll off his tongue. “His clothes were the most important thing to him, so she decided to hit him where it’d hurt the most.”
“Okay,” the man said slowly. “So, what do you do?”
“Me? I—”
The bell above the door rang and a man with long, dirty blond hair entered the store.
“Ben, are you hitting on the customers again? We’ve had this talk before.”
“Fuck off, Brandon, “Ben said as he folded up his newspaper and headed to the back office.
“Can I help you?” Brandon asked as he opened the register and slid and envelope under the cash drawer.
“S-suits,” he stuttered. “I’m selling some suits.”
“Let me have a look.” Brandon opened the garment bag and inspected the suits. He moved on to the other suits and frowned. “These are wrinkled. I’d have to get them dry-cleaned. And get some decent hangers.”
He nodded and hoped that he’d still get a decent amount of money for them.
“I’ll give you $2000 for all of them.”
“What? They are worth more than that,” he exclaimed. “Collectively, they are worth well over $14,000!”
“True,” Brandon agreed. “But they are also used and half of these are so last season.”
”C’mon,” he whined. “They have to be worth more than that.”
“Two thousand. Take it, or leave it,” Brandon said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fine. I’ll take it,” he said dejectedly.
“Great. Now who should I make the check out to?”
“Would it be possible to get it in cash? I’m in between banks right now so…”
“Yeah, sure. Why not.”
“Thanks.” He sighed with relief.
Brandon took a pad out of the drawer and wrote up a ticket for the sale. “Okay, now if you’ll just sign at the bottom.”
“Sign,” he squeaked.
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded.
“Okay,” he said, picking up the pen. He cracked his knuckles, hoping to buy more time.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “My hand just cramps up sometimes,” he said before signing an illegible name at the bottom. “There,” he said, pushing the pad back across the counter.
Brandon counted out the money in crisp $100 bills. “Thanks for your business. Come back soon.”
“I will,” he said as he folded the bills and stuffed them in his pocket. He pulled open the door and made his way around the corner, letting his heart rate return to normal.
“Oh, my God,” Justin groaned as he sat down next to Emmett.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Emmett asked.
“Why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Justin asked as he buried his head in his arms.
“What did you do, Brian?”
“Nothing,” Brian answered innocently, as he slid in the booth next to Ted. “We just did a little shopping.”
“He’s worse than Daphne,” Justin said as he raised his head off the table. “He puts her to shame.”
“Brian, you didn’t,” Ted accused him.
“He’s the one who offered to come with me,” Brian defended himself.
“I hate you,” Justin said as he signaled for a waiter.
“You always say the nicest things.” Brian smirked. “Turkey on whole wheat, no mayo and a water,” he told Kiki.
“Bacon cheeseburger, chili and cheese fires, a coke, and could I have some coffee too, please.”
“Okay, it’ll be right out,” Kiki said as she tore the ticket off and went to the kitchen.
“What?” Justin asked when he felt three pairs of eyes on him. “Don’t knock it til you try it.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Ted said.
“Here you go.” Kiki said as she put a cup of coffee in front of Justin.
“Thanks.” Justin smiled at the waitress and took a sip of his drink. “Oh, God, “he said, wiping his mouth and setting the cup down. “I think my esophagus is melting.”
“Oh, yeah.” “ Emmett sucked in his breath. “I forgot that Deb isn’t here. You do not want to drink Kiki’s coffee.”
Justin handed Kiki back the cup when she brought out the other drinks.
“So, where’s Mikey?” Brian asked.
“He’s at the chiropractor, “”Ted answered. “He fell off a ladder the other day in the store and hurt his back. His friend Tracy knows someone who knows someone, so he was able to get right in.”
“What the fuck was he doing on a ladder?”
“He said he was putting up a banner, but I guess he must have taken it down,” Emmett said. “Because I didn’t notice anything different.”
“Probably just more Captain Astro stuff,” Brian said.
“”Who’s Captain Astro?” Justin asked.
“It’s a good thing Michael isn’t here,” Emmett said. “He’d have an aneurysm.”
“Well, it’s not like he’s asking who Zack O’Toole is,” Ted commented.
“Who’s Zack O’Toole?” Justin asked.
“What?” Ted’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets.
“Is he someone I should know? “Justin asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” Ted asked, shocked. “He’s only the biggest name in porn!”
Justin shrugged his shoulders.
“Ted, here, is our very own porn aficionado,” Brian said. “If there is gay porn out there, chances are he’s seen it.”
“I try my best,” Ted said with mock modesty.
“But really guys,” Justin said as he stirred his coke with a straw. “Who’s Zack O’Toole?”
