Brian's loft. Brian enters, to the sound of Daphne chirping on his answering machine and Justin dancing around in the living room with headphones on, wearing Brian's shirt. Oh, man. Daphne's voice keeps saying that she knows Justin's there: "Are you guys doing it?!" Brian picks up the phone, then slams it down. Bye bye, Daphne. Brian's holding his side, so I take it his ribs are still bruised. Brian also looks near-homicidal. He pulls the headphones off the top of Justin's head, and then asks him what he's doing. Justin: "Huh?" Brian screams again: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Gah! Run for your life! I never noticed how tiny Randy Harrison is; Gale Harold totally towers over him. Justin tentatively replies that he's listening to Moby: "It's really hot." Brian glares at him, not saying a word. Justin's getting nervous. "So," he asks Brian, "What's up?" Brian testily lists Justin's sins: the door's unlocked, Justin's left his junk everywhere, and finally, Jennifer visited Brian today. In the distance, the thunder rolls, as Brian moans that all he wanted to do was come home and have something to eat. Justin eagerly replies that he could make Brian something. Brian, opening the refrigerator and finding it empty: "No. You couldn't." He slams the fridge door closed in frustration. Justin says that he's sorry, and he didn't mean for this all to happen. Brian: "Well, it did." Justin, bare-chested, sidles up to Brian and tells him that at least they're together, so they might as well make the best of it. Bwahahahaha! You've gotta be kidding me. Justin has probably never looked so unattractive in his life. Brian snarls that they're not together: "You're here because of a series of an unfortunate set of circumstances, which have given me the worst headache of my life." That's a little further than I would have gone, but, seriously, Justin, get a clue. Please. For the love of God. Brian throws the duffel bag at Justin. There's the hurt puppy face again. Brian then announces that he's going to bed, and Justin -- who has more nerves than brains -- agrees, and starts to follow him. Shyeah, right. Brian redirects Justin over to the desk to do his homework, and announces that the teenager has to be in bed by eleven. Justin's like, what, eleven? Dude, this isn't home. You don't get to do whatever you want. Brian turns on him: "Do you know I had to promise your mom that you wouldn't be late for school tomorrow?!" Snicker. Oh, and um, the nipple ring's disappeared, FYI. Sad Justin mopes back to the couch as Brian adds, with a mighty sigh, "Oh, and, by the way, she sends her love." Ha!