Disclaimer:

To all those still waiting patiently for the next chapter, the author wishes to extend the utmost apologies for the delay. Please accept this next chapter as a submission for more in the near future.

So here is chapter 61, the next chapter in an ongoing story about Stephen Gately from Boyzone and Eloy de Jong, formerly of Caught in the Act. I do hope you like this one, and please write and tell me what you think.

I have no contact with either of the gentlemen in question and such literature is the product of the author's imagination.

Cheers,

Musicfan

Stephen didn't stir until the later in the afternoon, when the insistent ringing of the telephone jarred him awake. He almost fell off the sofa as he got up, disoriented about where he was. There was a phone on the desk nearby and he stumbled over to it and picked up the receiver.

"Yeah?" He answered, still muddle-headed from the abrupt interruption.

"Steo, you're late. We're downstairs waiting to go." Keith said impatiently. "Get yer arse down here now."

That brought Stephen instantly awake. He was going to be late for rehearsal for the show that night! "I'll be right there! Sorry, overslept!"

He dropped the receiver and ran to the bathroom, running the water and putting his head under the faucet to quickly wash his hair. He knew he was going to look a mess, but he didn't have the luxury of time to do anymore more. It was with a lot of distaste that he pulled out his clothes from his bag, trying to find something that wasn't too wrinkled. After a cursory look, a shirt and jeans had to do and he pulled his boots on, shoved his wallet and room key in his back pocket and pelted down the stairs to the lobby.

"Sorry!" He apologised as he reached his impatient band mates.

"Next time answer the phone a little faster or we'll break down the door," Keith said, shaking his head.

"I'll try!" Stephen said, chastised. Mike handed him a cup of coffee in a takeaway container and he followed them out to the people mover that was waiting to take them over to the venue. He winced as he entered the bright morning light, regretting his lack of sunglasses, which were still packed away in his bag. Shading his eyes, he tried to keep to the shadows in the van as it moved down the street towards their destination.

"What happened, you must have been sleeping like the dead in there," Ronan commented, noting Stephen's slightly disheveled appearance. Stephen combed his wet hair back with one hand as he sipped gingerly at the hot coffee.

"Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I turned on the tv. Guess I fell asleep again," he said quietly, disturbed that he had been so out of it.

"I knocked on the door earlier to see if you wanted to get some breakfast, but you never stirred," Shane said, face disguised behind a baseball hat and sunglasses.

"Never heard you," Stephen said. "Guess I was really beat." He retreated into silence, content to let the others talk around him while he drank his coffee. It wasn't long before they arrived at the venue for the show. Travbane wasn't a venue they had been to before, so they weren't familiar with the way around backstage. It was a makeshift staging area at one end of the racetrack field that had been set up for the show.

They saw a few familiar faces, and Stephen was happy for the distraction of seeing one of his good friends, Shaznay from All Saints. It was a miserable day and had been raining since before they arrived. There was some question as to whether they were really going to perform, but the organisers weren't too keen on having to face the crowd outside the venue.

The boys were still working on their sound check when the crowd was let in. They rushed through the mud to the front of the staging area, yelling out the names of their favourites as they spied them on stage. Shane teased them a bit before they ran off stage to the relative dryness of the backstage area.

"Hey, love, have a towel," a voice said from off stage as Stephen ducked past the dividing curtain. He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and smiled at his friend. Shaznay was standing off to one side, a dry towel in her hands and he took it from her gratefully as he made his way past the stage pieces, cables and equipment that made up the backstage area.

"Thanks, hon, you're too good to me," he said with an impish grin as she led the way backstage to the artists' green room.

"Yeah, I know that, but since I was standing out there anyhow, I figured I might as well as be useful," Shaz said over her shoulder as she grabbed a soda off of the table.

"And why are you standing out there in the rain anyway?" Stephen asked her curiously as he followed her actions and grabbed a coke before moving over to a trestle table that wasn't too crowded.

"'Cause," she drawled, giving him a sultry look over her shoulder. "I like watching that cute ass of yours."

Stephen snorted and wrinkled his nose in response to her off hand remark. "Yeah, right."

"Oh, honey, you do have a cute ass," she stated as she sat down next to one of the girl groups from Germany. They were a little in awe of the two acts from England and stopped talking as soon as Shaznay and Stephen sat down at their table with friendly nods, while continuing their conversation. "And one of these days I'm going to jump you when you're up on stage and it's all because you're wiggling it at me."

Stephen laughed. He could always trust Shaz to say the most outrageous things to him. "I don't think it was you I was aiming for, m'dear."

"Liar!" She accused. "I know you want it. Just admit it, won't you?"

"All right!" Stephen said, giving in with a laugh. "You're absolutely right. I knew you were back there and I set out to tease you. There, does that make you happy?"

"No, it just proves I was right!" She said in triumph. "And remember, I'm always right. Now hush while I find us something to eat while we wait." And without another word, Shaz got up and stalked around the green tent, looking at the tables of food. Stephen settled back to await her return and he looked forward to a chance to gossip while they waited their turns on stage...

#

They had a lot of time to kill, as they were the last acts to perform. Most of the time was spent in the canteen area chatting with friends or walking out to see the other acts perform. Each of the lads were keen on seeing the other European acts perform as they hadn't had a lot of success in some countries and were curious as to what was selling out there. For the most part, they weren't impressed, though Stephen eagerly watched the dance moves of some of the groups. Fleetingly he wished that Caught in the Act had been one of the other performers there so he could spend some time with Eloy, but such wasn't the case this day.

The waiting seemed interminable for them. Because of the dark overcast skies, the whole concert was performed in a gloomy light, the theatrical spots doing little to illuminate much beyond the central staging area. They were relieved to see that the rain held off in the evening and the boys waited in the wings while All Saints performed to an adoring crowd. It wasn't often that this little town got not one, but two of England's top acts at one show, and they tried to show their appreciation accordingly.

By the time the girls finished their set, the crowd had raised the noise level at the racetrack to a new level. Chanting started in the back of the venue and was quickly picked up by the fans as they shouted "Boy – zone! Boy – zone," over and over again. The boys moved into position on the dimly lit stage, minders lighting their way to the microphones with flashlights. By the time the first hit of the drums started for A Different Beat, the crowd was at a fevered pitch, screaming out names as the lights slowly came up to reveal the group standing before them.

They went smoothly from one song to another, ad libbing their links depending on the mood. They fed off the energy of the crowd, and by the time they ran off stage after singing No Matter What, they were on a natural high from the night. Cries of disappointment met the raising of the lights in the venue as the groups were shuttled off to a Pepsi sponsored party back at their hotel.

A crowd was waiting their arrival at the hotel, and it wasn't the first time that the group was amazed at their network of fans who were able to find out not only what hotel they would be staying at, but often what times they would arrive from the venue. Stephen was in a deep conversation with his friends, but still broke off to sign some autographs as he left the bus. He always remembered that for many of the fans, this might be the only time they could meet him, so he took the time to greet as many of them as he could.

The party at the Hotel D'Angleterre was held in the Royal Suite, which was on the floor above their hotel rooms, and took up most of the top floor of the hotel. Representatives from all the groups' record companies as well as local media celebrities were there to mingle with the pop stars. Stephen had never been enamoured of this kind of event, but he saw the necessity of having to have a presence at it. He would much rather just be back in his hotel room relaxing, or down in the pub mingling with the more normal people like fans, but they were here to work, and the party was considered work by the group.

Each of the lads spread out through the group, shaking hands with various DJ's and industry professionals. Stephen kept close to Shaznay, letting her lead him around the room as they greeted people. He heartily approved of her first stop, which was the catered bar at one corner of the room near the massive marble fireplace. Taking two flutes of champagne, he handed one to her and nodded in the direction of a settee that was currently unoccupied.

"Mmm, good idea, love," she murmured, taking the lead and moving over to sit down, stifling a sigh as Stephen sat down beside her. "Damn, but my feet are killing me in these shoes! I was hoping to change out of them before we had to come to this damn thing."

Stephen grinned at her, in agreement with her statement. "Just take them off. Who's going to be looking at your feet with that get up?" His eyes twinkled in amusement as he glanced down at the skimpy stage outfit that she hadn't had the chance to change out of before the party.

"Oh Lord, then they'd be stepping all over me!" Shaz said in disgust as she looked around the room. "I mean, look at that muppet over there who's all over Nicole!" Stephen obligingly turned to see what she was referring to. Some industry executive had Shaznay's band mate cornered, one arm against the wall and the other clasping her hand. He could see that she wasn't comfortable and had tried to move away without success. Stephen wasn't the only one who had seen what was going on, because Shane moved in to Nicole's rescue by draping an arm over the man and turning him around to shake his hand, effectively giving Nicole room to escape. Stephen grinned as Nic darted out from the corner and moved over towards her sister who was talking to one of the DJs in the other corner of the room.

"Good ol' Shanno to the rescue," he said, turning to look at his friend who smiled at his comment.

"Yeah, that was sweet of him to do that," Shaz admitted. "Okay, another one is headed our way. Do me a favour and act possessive so I don't have to talk to him," she pleaded to her friend. Stephen responded by wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her head against his shoulder. A voice called out his name and he looked towards it only to see the flash as a photographer took a picture of them together on the settee.

Stephen turned away and hid his smile against Shaznay's hair. As the blue glow of the flash faded from his eyes he had a vision of that photo appearing in a magazine, along with the accompanying headline saying that they were an item.

"Any bets on how long before that picture shows up back home?" He hazarded, making her laugh. He liked the way she laughed; it was low and smoky.

"Ten quid they have us snogging at the party," she said, eyes glinting mischievously at him.

"Uh, uh, not taking that bet!" Stephen vowed, knowing full well that she was probably right. "Besides, I can't complain... I have a lovely lady next to me and that will only help my reputation."

"Even if she does nothing for you?" She taunted, well aware of where her close friend's interests really lay.

"Erm, well, I wouldn't say nothing," he replied with a grin. "I mean, didn't you help me get a bite to eat earlier? Certainly that's doing something for me, right!"

The sound of their laughter grabbed the attention of those around them and several people noted how close they had their heads together as they were talking. Keith watched them from one corner of the room, knowing full well that tongues would be wagging. He also knew that it wasn't something that Stephen thought about doing deliberately, and he was often dismayed when a simple friendship was made out to be a blazing romance by the press. While he also knew that Stephen didn't like what happened, it often took the pressure off of him as to when he was going to get married like the rest of them. Even though Mikey wasn't married yet, the fact that he had a long term relationship and a daughter pretty much took him off the eligible market for the gossip rags.

A minute later, his attention was dragged away from his band mate by a question from a woman in a rather tight dress. Though he was a married man, that didn't stop him from looking, so he turned his attention to the woman at his side, forgetting his friend in the corner.

#

It was the wee hours of the morning before the party started to break up. Stephen stayed much longer than he had planned. Normally, he only stayed the obligatory amount of time that he felt he had to before slipping off to his room, but having time to spend with Shaz had been a real treat, so he had stayed through to the end. He escorted Shaznay and her band mate Mel down to their rooms before heading off to his own.

"You want to come in and cause some more raging stories about a threesome?" Shaz asked him as she walked through the door. He laughed, shaking his head at her audacity.

"Now, now, it's one thing to sit on top of each other at a party, but with me leaving your room in the wee hours of the morning, it would totally wreck my image with all those mothers that are counting on me!" He shook his finger at her. "And what would Chris say?"

"Chris wouldn't say anything at all, since he doesn't know I'm sweet on him," Shaz retorted in response to Stephen's reference to the man she had confessed great interest in earlier in the evening. "And don't you go spreading that around mister, or I'll spank you silly!"

"Ah, promises, promises," he teased as he moved out of her reach. "You're turning me on again, Shaz." He could feel the effects of the champagne they had drunk as he found himself losing his balance and listing against the wall. "Not that I'd be able to act on it in this state."

She giggled as she watched him weave back and forth unsteadily. "Ah, my virtue is safe for the night, then." She leaned out the door, but held onto the frame for balance as she gave him a kiss. She wasn't feeling too steady herself. "G'night, love."

"Night. Sweet dreams," he said softly as he made his way down the hall. He heard the door closing behind him as he did and he chuckled to himself as he worked his way to the stairwell.

A whisper of a tune was going through his head as he climbed the stairs back up to his floor. In the stairwell, he could still hear the strains of music floating down from the party upstairs. He picked up the melody and hummed it under his breath as he exited onto his floor and made his way to his room. It was quieter here, the well-insulated walls protecting the clientele from the noise from above.

He wasn't feeling too steady as he walked down the hall to his room on the end. Silently, he berated himself for having too much to drink. If he weren't careful, he would have a splitting headache in the morning. He knew somewhere in his bags he had some Panadol, if only he could find it before he fell over.

With a wry smile to himself, he carefully inserted the key into the lock and let himself into the room. The room was much neater than when he had run out earlier in the day, housekeeping having tidied up the mess he had left behind in his haste to get to the lobby. A lamp had been left on next to the bed, the covers folded down invitingly. He looked longingly at the pillows, but knew better than to just fall into bed before taking some kind of remedy before sleeping. He made his way over to the settee, where his bag was still sitting, half unpacked. Clothes that had been strewn about the room were folded neatly next to the bag and he made a note to remind himself to leave a generous tip when he left. He always felt bad about making extra work for the hotel staff, and this was one of those days when he had been in such a hurry that he hadn't thought about the mess he had made.

Rummaging through his bag produced the promised bottle of Panadol. He sighed with relief and made his way to the bathroom, looking for a glass. A short time later, he came out of the room, shirt over one arm and the bottle in his hand. He carefully disrobed, not wanting anything to jar his head which was feeling the effects of the long day. As he sat on the bed, he winced at the sharp pain he felt. Reaching down, he dislodged his mobile that had rolled underneath him as he had sat down. He looked at it blearily, not feeling up to see if there were any messages. It could wait until morning, as he really wasn't in any condition to talk to anyone at this time of the night.

He placed his mobile on the nightstand and eased back into the awaiting covers. The pillow cushioned his head and he sighed with relief that he didn't have to get up early. He stirred only long enough to reach out a hand to shut off the light before burrowing under the duvet.

#

The next morning he was up before the alarm. Despite the lateness of the hour he had gone to bed, he found himself feeling rather good this morning. He had a leisurely shower and called for room service, allowing himself that small bit of luxury while he relaxed. The afternoon was another flight to another appearance so he wanted to be able to enjoy what quiet time he had to himself.

Lounging on the sofa, he turned on his mobile and checked for messages. The first one was from his sister, who had left a message asking when she was going to see him again, if ever. He grinned at her tart quip as he went on to the next message. When he first heard Eloy's voice, his grin grew larger, only to be replaced with an expression on concern as he listened to his lover.

"Stephen, when you get this, please give me a ring. No matter what time. I need to talk to you," Eloy said tersely before hanging up. Stephen shivered at the tone in his voice and wondered what had gone wrong. He checked when Eloy had left that message, which had been early afternoon the day before when he was asleep on the sofa. There were two more messages, and so Stephen listened to them also. Both were from Eloy, asking him to call. By this point, Stephen's stomach was in knots, trying to imagine what had gone wrong for Eloy to sound that way. His mind skittered in circles, as he thought of all sorts of reasons for the call, none of them good.

He dialed Eloy's number, hoping that he was going to be able to reach him. He kept on replaying the tone of Eloy's voice back in his head and wondered whether someone had found out about them. The breakfast he had eaten a short time before sat heavily in his stomach and he began to feel nauseous.

"Hullo?" Eloy answered, sounding very tired.

"Eloy, it's me. I'm so sorry I didn't ring you back before now. I only just got your messages. What happened?" Stephen asked anxiously.

"Stephen," Eloy said, glad to hear his voice. "Its okay, I know how busy you are. Thank you for calling." Stephen grew more concerned, since Eloy was sounding so formal.

"E, what happened?" Stephen asked again. He found himself pacing his hotel room as he waited for Eloy to tell him whatever the news was.

A long sigh answered his question. "I don't know how it happened, but we got the news yesterday. Our record company is dropping us," Eloy said almost tonelessly.

Stephen stopped pacing, shocked at Eloy's news. On one hand, he was a little relieved that it hadn't anything to do with them, but on the other, he knew how devastating that news would be to his lover. He also felt guilty for feeling that relief. "Oh hon," was all he could manage. "Did anyone say why?"

"Our sales weren't good enough," Eloy said a bit bitterly. "Nothing was said, of course, about their lack of promotion for us." He went on to tell Stephen about the meeting with the representative from the record company.

"That's so unfair, hon. You guys were doing so well, too." Stephen commiserated with him. He let Eloy rattle on, knowing how he would feel if Polydor had said that to his group. Eloy eventually wound down, out of things to say for the moment.

"E, do you want me to try and get out of my stuff here and come stay with you?" Stephen asked, not sure how he was going to be able to do that, but willing to try.

"I'd love you here, but I still don't know what we're going to do ourselves," Eloy admitted. "We talked about doing a one off concert for fans. I think we're going to do it, as no one can really stop us. It's going to be a mess when we do it, so I don't think you'd want to be around for that."

While Eloy had been talking, Stephen had pulled out his datebook where he scribbled down dates so he'd know where they were headed from day to day. When he saw how busy the upcoming schedule was, he knew he wasn't going to be able to get away, anyhow. His spirits sank at the realisation as he really did want to be there for Eloy if he could.

"Well, maybe you should get away afterwards and come here," Stephen suggested, his mind working at when they could get together. "I want to be there for you, baby. I can only imagine how you're feeling right now."

In a way, Stephen's reaction to his news made Eloy feel better. If anyone could empathise with his situation, it would be Stephen. "No, I don't want you to get into trouble and dropping things just to be with me. And ja, I do want to spend time with you. Maybe I should look at it this way --- we'll have more time to get together ja?"

"Oh, but that's not the way either of us would want it, honey. But if you get to find more time to visit, I'll take what I can get," Stephen said warmly. He didn't want Eloy to tailspin into depression with the news of the end of the group. Eloy had already told him that a couple of the others had been wanting to do some solo stuff, so they were just going to go on with that and hope for the best. He worked hard at trying to cheer Eloy up, knowing full well how devastating the news was for his lover. By the time their conversation wound down an hour later, Eloy was talking about it more as an opportunity for television presenting work and the like and definitely sounding more upbeat than when Stephen had first talked to him. Stephen also made him promise to call with any new details and told him that he would leave his mobile on in case Eloy needed to talk. He then had Eloy promise to call him at the end of the night so they could chat again before ringing off.

Afterwards, he sat there on the sofa for a long time, thinking about what had happened to Eloy and trying to imagine what he would have been acting like if their situations had been reversed. With a convulsive shiver he tried to banish his thoughts by turning on the television in an effort to distract himself . . .

#

After another gig at a television station Cologne, the group flew back to England so they could appear in a television programme there. Stephen had shared his news with his friends and accepted their warm thoughts on behalf of Eloy. Each was well aware of what it would be like to have that happen to them, and it created a frenzied air to their next performance in Bristol that day. The reception they got fueled their need for adulation and they gave an outstanding performance that night that was later written up in the trade publications due to the fan reaction they got there.

The next week was an extremely busy one for Stephen and his friends as they did their promotional appearances for the release of the new single, No Matter What. It topped the charts in the number one spot and the sales were so good that the record company held a party for them in London, inviting Andrew Lloyd Webber and Jim Steinman to join in the celebration.

Stephen was feeling rather guilty as he contrasted his week with his lover's. Every night he spoke with Eloy on the phone, wanting to be there for him if he needed it. He would lay on his bed, listening to Eloy, feeling that he had to be there for his lover. His heart ached when Eloy tearfully told his story about the group's last performance.

"Afterwards we went backstage and just bawled," Eloy said as he ended his story. "Mama was there and she just wrapped her arms around me and told me that something better would come along. I don't know about that, because it felt like the end of the world."

"Oh, honey, it isn't. There's so much you can do," Stephen said encouragingly. "Take some time off, then plan what you want to do. You said you wanted to get back into television. Maybe that's what you should do." He twisted the phone cord around his finger as he stared up at the ceiling. "Or you could work on some solo stuff. You never got to sing enough stuff on your own, so now's your chance, yeah?"

"Ja, maybe." Eloy replied, though he sounded somewhat doubtful. Stephen worked at convincing him that he could do anything he put his mind towards, and encouraged him to look at all the options.

By the time they hung up, Stephen was feeling exhausted. At the same time, he was feeling miserable that he couldn't be there to wrap his arms around Eloy during what had to be one of the worst times in his life. Over the past several nights of talking, Eloy had expressed concern that he was cursed because of all the recent problems that had occurred, from the death of loved ones to his knee injury and the collapse of his contract with the record company. Stephen had spent much of the time they talked on the phone trying to convince him that it wasn't the case, and that he had a lot to work with, despite the recent disappointment. And just when he thought he had gotten through, Eloy would spiral down to another bout of depression.

Stephen lay for a long time staring at the ceiling as he mulled things over. He really wanted to get Eloy out of this cycle and the only way he knew how was to get him out of his apartment and out of Holland. That they should get together and spend some time together where Stephen would be able to assure him in person that he still had a career in the business and that he could do well on his own without the support of the group behind him. Eloy's confidence seemed to be fragile enough to crack with enough pressure, and Stephen really wanted to give him time to recover from the recent blow he had been dealt.

With a sigh he rolled over, and reached for the datebook for what the group had planned in the upcoming weeks. He made the resolution that come hell or high water, he would find some time that he could take off and just spend some quiet time with Eloy. Lord knew they both deserved a break for a change. He resolved to push the issue with Mark in the morning, thinking up what he could use as an excuse for some time off. When he looked at the last few weeks, they were full of commitments and performances. That in itself was a lot of work over the summer and should be enough to allow them to push for a few days off. They had been going non stop for weeks now, and he had barely had time to see his family since they had been moving around so much with the promotions.

Having come to the decision, he decided to see where his friends were, and approach them with the idea of another break. He thought he wouldn't have much of an argument, and all of them together pushing at their management was better than one person whinging on his own. A groan escaped him as he stood up and he stretched to get the kinks out of his neck from where he had been laying on the bed with the phone crooked against one ear. It was after ten, and the lads would most likely be in the hotel pub downstairs. He grabbed his mobile and his room key, absently shoving both in his back pocket as he left the hotel room. On the way down the lift he ran into some fans who were awed that they were sharing the ride down with him. He chatted with them politely, his thoughts still elsewhere as he responded to their good natured teasing about the rest of the lads. The two girls followed him to the pub where he posed for a picture before telling them that he really had to go meet the rest of the lads. He left them with a hug for each and approached the rowdy party that was taking place to one side of the dartboards. Sure enough, Keith was holding court, telling all what he thought was a very funny story. Stephen stood off to one side, listening to the increasingly incoherent tale as Keith rambled on. He shook his head as Keith kept talking, mainly because he wouldn't let anyone else get a word in edgewise.

Shane spotted him off to one side and motioned towards a seat with a drink in one hand. Stephen grinned and made his way through the crowd. He sat down on the bench next to Shane, appreciating his friend's warm hug as he did so.

"He's gone. Completely pissed," Shane slurred with a nod towards Keith, who hadn't noticed Stephen's arrival.

"Is he now? I never would have guessed!" Stephen said as he relaxed under the arm his friend had thrown over his shoulders. "What's he on about now?"

"Women," Shane said with a twinkle in his eye. "And how man was not created to service only one woman, but many."

Stephen rolled his eyes. Trust Keith to go on about a topic he really knew nothing about. "Is anyone buying it?"

"Nope!" Mikey said, leaning in to add his two pence worth. "Half of the crew left long before you got here. The only reason why the rest haven't left is because Keith is buying the drinks!"

The three of them laughed, knowing full well that once Keith got started, it was impossible to stop him. Mikey poured Stephen a pint from the pitcher on the table and Stephen accepted it with a nod.

"How'd it go tonight?" Shane asked, referring to Stephen's evening call to Amsterdam.

"Not too bad. He really needs a change, though." Stephen said. Shane nodded, knowing what he meant. "I'm wondering if I can't get him to come over for a weekend or so, just to shake him out of the funk he's in."

"Why don't you?" Shane asked. Stephen shrugged and allowed that he was thinking of talking to Mark about getting a few days off. "That's not a bad idea. I wouldn't mind a couple of days to just sleep, myself. Not that I'd see anything of Easther if I did, with her running around with her group. But it would be grand to actually just sit in one place for a few days, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, it would. Do you think it is a good idea?" Stephen asked, anxious to get his friend's approval. Shane nodded and gave him a little squeeze of support.

"Sure I do. Tell you what. I'll come talk to Mark with you and tell him that it's not just you who's feeling a bit ragged around the edges. That way maybe he'll try and find a few days off for us. How's that sound?"

"It sounds great, Shane," Stephen smiled up at his friend. Through the past few months with all that he had been through, Shane had been a rock of support for him. Even though Shane had readily admitted that he didn't know what Stephen saw in another man, he had supported whatever Stephen had wanted to do and that really meant the world to him. While the others were close, it was to Shane he turned to most of the time. The support had been a godsend in recent weeks, as he had been emotionally torn by his need to be with Eloy and his commitments to the group. He shared some of his ideas with Shane and they talked quietly under the cover of the good natured teasing of their friends as they tried to shut Keith up. They weren't successful, but the barman was as he closed down the bar and kicked them out to their rooms for the evening.

It was with a lot of joking around that the group of revelers left, barely able to walk out of the hotel bar under their own power. Some of them just took their drinks from last call and moved their conversations outside to the lobby. Others took being expelled from the bar with humour and made their way to the hotel elevators, calling it a night. Stephen decided to follow the latter group and bid his farewell to his friends who were still trying to keep the party alive. He waved and followed the dancers into the elevator, gently teasing them about their unsteady movements. He was still pretty sober, though Shane and Mike had made sure that he had had more than enough to drink. He wasn't comfortable getting pissed in settings like that, all too aware of what might come out his mouth at an unguarded moment. So he restrained from the public exhibition that his friend Keith indulged in, content in feeling part of the group but not the centre of attention.

Soon he was back in his room, the strains of the drunken singing was shut away by the distance between them. It was with relief that he made his way into his room, feeling quite justified in his relative sobriety and that he had accomplished much in the way of garnering support for a break for the group.

Tomorrow he would get up early and find Mark so that they could have a conversation on the subject. Tonight was left for a shower to rid him of the smoky pub and the gritty tiredness in his eyes. Sleep was the first order of business, and hopefully tomorrow would take care of itself....