Affirmation, Part 2
Hi everyone, here we go with part 2. I want to thank everyone who wrote me about part 1 (all two of you :) ). Your comments really helped and encouraged me to keep going. I want to hear from more of you. Please e-mail me at silentkid@angelfire.com Thanks--Amber :)
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction that depicts homosexuality in a positive context. It is not sexually explicit so I don't see any reason for people under 18 to avoid it, but if laws prohibit you from reading, then go away and come back when you're older. The pop stars depicted as gay in this story may or may not be gay in real life. I make no claims either way.
This story is told from the viewpoint of Savage Garden's singer Darren Hayes.
.....
In the morning Darren awoke in an empty bed. Robbie had gone, leaving the sheets thrown haphazardly to one side as though he had tried to make the bed but hadn't succeeded for one reason or another--either haste or incompetence; Darren wasn't sure which. He got up himself and made it properly. As he tugged on Robbie's side, a paper fluttered down to the floor. Picking it up, he saw that Robbie had left him a short thank you note with a little grinning demon drawn at the bottom of it. He smiled and set it on the nightstand near the hotel Bible. After he showered, he pulled his clothes on and carefully spiked up his hair. Sally Jesse was on the tv. Her guest was a doctor who had invented an operation that stopped people blushing. Darren watched with interest. Several satisfied patients were on to praise the doctor and talk about their improved personal lives. One woman said she was never able to talk to a guy before, but now she could have her choice of anyone at all! Looking at her sexy outfit, Darren wondered if she wasn't over crediting the operation. He turned the tv off as a woman in the audience asked the doctor if the surgery would harm her unborn child.
He got downstairs too late for breakfast, but found the other guys in the lobby, all except for Robbie, sprawled across the leather furniture. He plopped down next to Stephen on the couch. Stephen smiled groggily at him and offered half of his egg sandwich. He accepted, even though he didn't like eggs. J sat on the floor between Stephen's and Ronan's legs. He twisted around and said something unintelligible to him. Darren shook his head at him, something between a yes and a no. Satisfied, J turned back around. Darren thought he saw Ronan subtly move his leg closer to J and brush his back. J looked up at Ronan, mumbled something, and Ronan responded by showing him his new Rolex. Stephen leaned over and whispered,
"It's fake. Don't tell him."
Darren nodded slightly, acknowledging the secret.
Ronan reached over and tapped Stephen sharply. Stephen looked over and Ronan shook his head sternly at his older bandmate. Sighing, Stephen inched away from Darren. He put on his "public", expressionless face and feigned interest in the people at the counter. Ronan leaned up and glared at Darren who responded by lazily meeting his gaze then dropping his eyes down to J. Although he wasn't touching him now, Ronan moved his legs away.
"What are you guys doing today?" Darren asked, although in his head he was asking, "where's Robbie?"
"I'm in the studio this afternoon," Ronan said smugly.
"Is Robbie at his venue?" Darren asked.
"Aye," mumbled J.
"I'm going to a wedding rehearsal, myself." He turned to Stephen. "Wanna come?" He had an overwhelming urge to get Stephen away from Ronan. As long as the Baby Seal was present, Stephen wouldn't speak for himself on anything. Darren desperately wanted to give him at least one afternoon of freedom.
Stephen started to answer, but Ronan grabbed him and pulled him close so their heads were nearly touching. He whispered something in Stephen's ear and Stephen muttered something into Ronan's. Even though Darren couldn't hear them, their stoic expressions betrayed the conversation's jist. Stephen sat up and again stared at the people coming in. At this point Shane, who until now had silently sat in the chair opposite them, looked up from his paper at Stephen. In a moment a telepathic link passed between the two and Shane yelled over at Ronan,
"Eh! What do you care what he does? You're in studio today!"
Ronan, clearly taken aback by this attack on his authority, simply stared in wonder at Shane's atypical outburst. Recovering, he said that yes, of course Stephen should go. He was just being silly. Stephen subtly nodded in Shane's direction and Shane blinked in acknowledgment. J had now slid down against the couch so his feet were an inch from Shane's. Seeing this, Shane kicked him playfully before twisting around so his legs hung over the side of the chair well out of J's reach.
"Great! Can you leave in 15 minutes?" Darren said.
"Sure," Stephen answered. He excused himself to go back to his room. J hopped up and ran after him. Darren saw him casually drape his arm around Stephen's shoulders as the elevator door closed. Ronan, meanwhile, walked behind the couch and put his hand on Darren.
"Help me take the rubbish to the bin."
Even though Ronan could easily carry it all himself, Darren gamely agreed. At the bin, Ronan stopped him.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm helping you with the rubbish," Darren said.
"I meant for later," Ronan said. "I was referring to your intentions."
"I'm going to my cousin's wedding." He really didn't know what to say.
"What about Stephen?"
"What?" Now Darren was really confused.
"It's not good for him to be seen with you. Not good for his image, I mean," Ronan pressed.
"His image?"
"Ever since he came out we have done an excellent job of marketing him and Eloy as the ideal happy couple. Little girls who should have cried over the loss are sending them cards."
"Marketing them?" Darren couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Don't be like that, Darren. You know how this business works, especially in a band like ours." Ronan was getting brisk again.
"Are you saying they aren't the happy couple?"
"Oh, they are perfectly happy. That's not the point."
"What is?" Darren asked.
"If someone takes a picture of you and Stephen and that picture gets into the papers, we have trouble on our hands. See what I'm saying?"
"No." He really didn't.
"Stephen is gay. This is common knowledge. You are divorced. This is common knowledge." Ronan spoke slowly, as if he thought his imposed pauses would prompt Darren to understand without his having to actually say what he meant.
"What are you saying?" Now Darren was getting sick of the blonde.
"I'm talking about two gay men in a picture together. Considering that one of the men has an image to protect, considering that that man is my best friend and my bandmate, I can't have something like that happen."
"Gay men?"
"You and Stephen!" Ronan hissed.
"Gay?" Darren couldn't believe it. He knew the rumours, of course, but no one had ever said it to his face. "I'm not gay."
"Right." Ronan rolled his eyes. He put his hand on Darren's forearm. "Look, you don't have to worry about anything from me. I'm not trying to threaten you. I'm just telling you how people see you."
"If you were Stephen's best friend, you'd trust him, not try to control him all the time."
"He's not the one I'm worried about here," Ronan challenged.
Darren stumbled back, away from Ronan's touch. Suddenly that touch was poison to him and the glint in Ronan's eyes revealed a venom unfathomable to him. His eyes clouded over and he mumbled something at Ronan, something he couldn't understand now and wouldn't remember later. He walked, unseeing, to the hotel's staircase. When the firedoor closed behind him, Darren sat down heavily on a concrete step. He just wanted to get away. Gay? He saw how Ronan would think that, but he didn't act gay. He had been married, for goodness sakes! Darren wished Robbie was there sitting next to him, so he could tell him. Robbie knew about gay rumours. He'd understand. But more than that, Darren wanted Robbie there just because at that moment he was the first person he thought of, no, the only person he thought of. He hunched over and pulled his knees into his chest. He imagined Robbie hugging him and he blushed. He rubbed his cheeks vigorously to stop it, but could feel the heat overtaking and spreading up to his ears.
'I can't go like this,' he thought. He waited, counted to 40 forwards and backwards, willing the colour down, before he walked out to meet Stephen.
Thanks for reading! Please write me. I need some feedback. silentkid@angelfire.com