He wished he could live up to that image of himself. He wished that he could be a better person; he wished that he could be the person Justin believed in. “I’ll tell you the true parts if you want.”
On the screen, interview footage played; younger Kris blew cigarette smoke and left a lipstick kiss on the camera lens, in grainy artistic black and white. In the background Reggie’s voice said, “No, he’s always just like that, no, the one who’s high right now is Tom—” and Tommy, off-screen and impossibly young and owlish, said, “Huh?”
“Yes,” Justin said. “If you want to tell me. I know you didn’t deny it, at the time…”
“I didn’t, because it was a good story.” He glanced up from tea, found Justin looking at him, looked away. “Are you sure you want to know? You said easy. And you should be re
