Unrequited Love

Author: Placebobitch/Evilduck

Rating:

Pairing: Stef/Bri

Original link

He tells me he loves me. Whispers it in my ear like a soft caress to the mind. And I believe him too, why shouldn’t he love me? I’ve been a faithful lover, well in the physical sense at least, a good friend and most importantly I can act well. Professionally trained at college with a degree to show for it, I can convince anyone I love them. I can convince anyone to love me. Except for the one who matters the most it seems.

Well here I am anyway, sitting in yet another nameless trendy bar, all senses being blocked by the untouchable beauty barely a metre away from me. Ironically next to him sits my lover, the one who loves me with an unrequited love. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy his company and the sex is mind-blowing as well. Just when I’m sitting in his arms on the sofa, in bed, anywhere for that fact, I’m not thinking of him. It’s that certain someone else I’m dreaming of.

It’s been over a year now with Alex. Alex, I hate that name. So boring and lifeless, rather how I view him as a person. But he’s a useful escape from the world I can’t stand. The world which so cruelly denies me the one thing I desire and require the most.

Back to the real world as my beauty shifts in his seat and stands up. He looks over at me and I almost melt into my chair at the sight of those eyes. His lips move perfectly to form words which I assume are something about a drink. “No, thanks” I hear myself reply as if on auto-pilot, when the whole time my body is screaming “Yes”. I feel Alex’s slightly clammy hand slide on top of mine and I dutifully turn my head to see what he wants. He is smiling at me, moving his head closer to mine and though I would rather smash those slightly un-even teeth in, I move in to return the kiss. Such public displays of affection are necessary to convince everyone of my act.

When I was younger and dating people, I would always do a simple test in my head to see how serious things were getting. I would imagine how I would feel if said person broke up with me. I could therefore gauge how much I cared for the other person by imagining my reaction to being dumped by them. I have done this test countless times in my head whilst with Alex and the results have always come up predictably the same. I wouldn’t give two flying fucks if he broke up with me. I feel nothing for him, no bonds at all. But that's understandable given my borderline obsession with the beautiful one I cannot have.

Once again my train of thought is broken by him walking back across the room to the table, his hips swaying gently as he walks. I wonder if he knows that he does that so seductively. No doubt I’ve told him before when we were both too drunk to remember. He hands drinks around the table and for the first time I notice we are with other people. They are probably all good friends of mine, but I don’t recognise any of them as my mind is already pre-occupied. The moment he has sat down, his mobile phone rings. It’s an irritatingly catchy tune which I might have enjoyed had he not answered it so quickly. I watch his serious face contort into a soppy smile as he says “Hey you!”. Its the other bastard in this world, Michael. Maybe I should lock Michael and Alex up in the same room and torture them for being the only two people I passionately hate, and for screwing up my grand scheme of things in my life. Obviously Michael is his lover. Another barrier in my way preventing me from getting to my one true love.

I feel bile rising in my throat as their conversation goes on. The mobile phone looks ridiculously tiny in his large hands. I can’t take any more so I hurriedly stand up and practically run across the room to the toilets. I can’t bear to look back in-case I see bastard Alex’s face. I retch into the nearest urinal but the pain in my stomach doesn’t go away. There’s sweat dripping down my face so I lean my forehead against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. My make-up is probably smeared across my face, but at this point in time I really don’t care. I hear a creaking behind me and footsteps. I turn around to look at the doorway and find the last person I want to see.

My senses are so blurred and my mind feels incredibly numb. I don’t even realise what I’m doing. Arms flailing, reaching out, needing to make contact with skin. Crunch, that sounded so satisfying. I’m seeing red now, possibly blind with rage. I hit out, kick, bite, anything to hurt him and to make him go away. My head hits the floor and I’m staring at a part of the room I haven’t seen before. It takes me a while to realise its the ceiling. Now my mind is unusually clear and I’m aware of a throbbing pain in my hand and wrist. I can’t move though, the paralysis of shock still has it’s effects on my body.

I lay on the floor for what seems like hours, and strangely enough no-one else enters the toilets. My left leg is now starting to ache, so I decide I’m not paralysed anymore. I reach up with an unsteady hand and grab onto the side of the nearest urinal. I then haul myself to my feet and survey the damage around me. My hand is bleeding and has glass embedded near the wrist, any closer and I would have cut a vein. The broken mirror on the wall shows where the glass came from. I look into the mirror and feel thankful my face hasn’t been hurt. These are battle scars I wouldn’t want to show. I’m suddenly aware that there is someone else in the room and I turn around too quickly, nearly falling over on my aching leg. There, crumpled in the corner by the door, is Alex. His head is bleeding, his arms too. There are also bruises starting to appear on his face. He appears to be unconscious though I can’t be too sure. I feel satisfied with the damage and pain I have caused him. Though he has done nothing wrong, and I know it, it felt good to hurt someone as much as I am hurting inside.

I’m awoken from my daze by a familiar voice just in front of me. I look up to see the shocked, unsympathetic face of my loved one. “Brian, what have you done?” he asks, cold and serious. I push past him through the doorway and run out of the bar, away from Alex, away from everyone, and away from him. My Stefan.

I’m running down a road, my heart is pounding so fast it feels as though I’m going to drop down dead of a heart attack at any moment. The satisfaction I feel from attacking Alex has sent adrenalin pumping through my veins. The weird liquid energy pulsing through me, moving my legs at an incredible speed I never knew I could achieve. I’m unsure of where I’m running to, but my body is on auto-pilot. Directing me down unfamiliar roads and streets. All of a sudden I come to a halt outside a large brick building. A building which happens to contain my flat inside. I fumble for my keys in my coat pocket, the cool metal feels so icy on my burning skin. My key slides around the lock; futile attempts to open the door. My hands and arms, my whole body for that fact, are shaking so badly it feels like a minor triumph when the key finally jerks into the lock. A small turn and a click, and the door is open. I automatically switch the lights on, a habit I have developed from coming home so late at night. I stagger over to the sofa and collapse on it. I feel so exhausted as the adrenalin finally wears off. I try to run through in my mind the nights events and it is as if a floodgate has been opened. The tears are rolling down my face and my breathing turns into great large gasps for air in between sobbing. How the fuck did all this happen? Well I know that. I know exactly how all this started. And funnily enough it all started with Stefan.

I can remember meeting him for the first time since school at the tube station. I knew it was someone I recognised, but it took me a while to work out who. It also took me a while to work up the courage to say anything to him. But I’m glad I did, or the band would never had happened. Nothing like this would have happened. I wasn’t attracted to him at first, it wasn’t one of those love at first sight things. I just found him interesting and it was nice to find someone who had that much in common with me. Then the whole band thing happened and before I knew it we were playing our first gig. I mean, yeah we were only supporting, but it was still real. That’s when I first noticed it properly. As we were coming off the stage (well you couldn’t really call it a stage) we were all hot and sweaty, yet euphoric. It shone on his face and I have to admit it really turned me on that he had such a passion for music. He noticed me staring at him in an odd way and asked me what was wrong. I told him it was nothing and just shrugged the feeling off. I put it to the back of my mind for a while, as we were busy being signed to record labels and making our album. In those first few years I became extremely close to Stefan. He was my best friend and I felt like I knew him inside out. The bond only strengthened when Robert left, as I felt he was then the only person I could trust.

However the feelings surfaced again when we were touring for our “Without You I’m Nothing” album. Spending so much time with him on the cramped tour bus was having its effects. My mind was confused and torn over what I should do. I knew I loved him more than anything else in the world, but could I really risk our friendship? As the tour went on my mind became occupied with one thing only. I would spend whole nights just watching him sleep, my heart burning with desire. I couldn’t keep my hands off him during the day, constantly hugging and touching him. Just wanting to be close to him.

One night we were all getting drunk after a successful gig. Steve and the rest of the crew eventually went to bed leaving me and Stefan on the sofa. He turned to me and started drunkenly rambling about what a great band we were, and what a great friend I was. He had consumed far too much alcohol and therefore probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning. So I took my chances and leant in towards him, kissing him full on the lips. I could taste the bitter alcohol on his breath as he hesitantly responded. Before I knew it I was on my back on the sofa with Stefan on top of me, smothering my face with kisses while I struggled to undo his shirt buttons. He looked even taller than usual at this angle. Suddenly he sat back and looked down at me with a confused expression on his face. Then he looked down at his half-bare chest. He told me he couldn’t do it, that it felt too weird. And then he climbed off me and silently made his way to his bunk at the back of the bus. I sat on the sofa and cried more than I had ever done about someone in my whole life. Silently hoping that the tears would drown away my feelings for him.

It seemed ages before the flow of tears stopped. My hands automatically groped around on the table for the familiar cardboard box. I lit up a cigarette and inhaled the soothing nicotine, completely ignoring the ban that had been put on the tour bus concerning smoking. At that moment in time I was the only one smoking as Stefan was trying to give up. Stefan, the name brought a fresh stream of tears back to my eyes as I remembered the earlier occurrences. The tour bus was so quiet. Just me, my cigarettes and a bottle of some various alcohol on the table I hadn‘t noticed before. I downed it quickly, my throat burning but my mind blurring to take away the uncomfortable memories. I decided the best thing to do was try and sleep, and hope I would wake up not remembering anything. I stumbled uncertainly through the bus to the sleeping area. I saw Stefan on his bottom bunk and flicked my ash on him. That would piss him off in the morning. I climbed my way up to my bunk with difficulty. The others had obviously thought it would be a laugh if they made me have the top bunk. I couldn’t even reach it properly sober, let alone rather sloshed. Finally I made it and collapsed under the duvet, pulling it up close around my tear-streaked face. I finished my cigarette with one final drag and flicked it off the bunk, hoping it had gone in Stefan’s general direction. I closed my burning eyes and tried to sleep, but memories kept invading. Random memories of Stefan, as though my semi-conscious mind was trying to taunt me with the fact that I couldn’t have him. After ages of torment from those images, I was just drifting off to sleep. Suddenly there was a creaking sound to my left. Unwillingly I pulled the duvet down from my face and opened my eyes. I found myself staring into a familiar face. “I’ve changed my mind” I heard Stefan’s low voice drunkenly mumble, as he climbed up onto the bunk. I was going to resist, maybe just long enough to ask him why he had changed his mind, but all these thoughts were pushed out of my head the moment he started kissing me. His tongue roughly pushed inside my mouth as he ground himself against me with alcohol induced lust. Once again the bitterness invaded my mouth, but I didn’t care. It was Stefan. This was what I had been dreaming about for years.

As he kissed me he used his free hand to pull down first my boxers, then his own. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I kept touching his sweaty heaving chest to make sure it was real. Then he entered me, no lube, nothing. Just pure Stefan. Filling the empty void I’d had for four years. It was hot and intense and over as quickly as it started. He kept his eyes locked onto mine the whole time he fucked me. Because that’s all it was to him, a quick tourbus fuck, though I didn’t see it at the time. I came just before him, furiously bringing myself to the point of intensity whilst watching him. Then he drunkenly collapsed beside me and fell asleep. Despite the fact he was obviously intoxicated I was deliriously happy, and cuddled into the side of his chest.

When I woke up I was alone on the bed, rolled up in the duvet. I sat up, moaning from my splitting headache and trying to remember what caused it. As the memories from the previous night came flooding back a small smile crept across my face, and I practically fell out of bed in my hurry to find Stefan. No-one else was in the sleeping quarters, which was understandable as by a check of the clock I discovered it was 2pm. I wandered through into the living area in just my boxers to find Steve sitting on a sofa drumming on the coffee table. He joked something about Sleeping Beauty awakening, but I didn’t really hear as I shuffled past him into the kitchen area. I found Stefan frying some bacon and eggs, it smelt very good to a poor hungover me. “Hiya hun” I said quietly as I slid my arms around his waist. He slipped out of my grip and turned to get some more cooking oil from the shelf. “Good Morning Brian, you’re in a good mood” he said, without looking me in the eye. I was confused at his odd reaction, so I decided to probe further into the matter. “Did you have fun time last night? I certainly did” I asked him, trying to sound calm and as though I wasn’t worried. “I need to talk about last night actually. I was very very drunk, and so were you. We just need to forget it happened and try to go back to normal.” He replied in a low voice, then turned back to the cooking. I couldn’t understand what was happening. A couple of minutes ago I was happier than I had been in ages. I was imagining my new life with Stefan, about what we would tell Steve, about how the fans would react. Now for the second time in 24 hours my heart had been torn apart. I couldn’t take it any more. So I grabbed the nearest bottle of vodka and ran to the bathroom, not even stopping to hear what Steve had to say.

Luckily no-one else was in there so I slid the lock across the door and fell to the cool, tiled floor. I was so distraught I couldn’t even cry. My eyes were red and stung from the tears welling up, and the lump in my throat felt roughly the size of a bowling ball. I unscrewed the bottle top with an unsteady hand and downed half the bottle in one go. My mind started wandering as to why Stefan had rejected me. Was it something I had done? Was it the way I looked? Obviously I wasn’t good enough for him. I stood up and surveyed my body in the mirror. It was too thin, the arms were too scrawny, I was just too small. He obviously wanted a proper man. I ran my fingers along the thin white scars on my arms. It had been a long time since I had opened those old wounds. Probably just before I met Stefan at the tube station. I felt the sudden urge to cut again, so I hastily looked around and my eyes stopped on a razor. Using my tweezers I managed to get the blade out and I stood in front of the mirror watching myself, blade poised. I made a small nick on the underside of my arm, and watched fascinated as the blood seeped out in a long thin line and dripped into the sink. The slight stinging in my arm took my mind off Stefan and it felt good. So I made another small cut, then another. All the time my mind concentrating on the physical pain, rather than the mental. The cuts increased down my arm and I stopped as I reached my wrists. Just one quick slash and it would be over. No more pain and no more worrying about Stefan. I seriously considered it before I cracked and started crying. What was I doing? I couldn’t leave all my friends, my band mates, my family. That would be the cowardly way out. The blade clattered to the floor and I started to feel dizzy. My mind was swaying and the room started spinning. Then I hit the floor.

When I finally awoke, I found myself lying down staring up at bright white lights. My arms were sore and two blurry figures were leaning over me. As my vision slowly returned to normal the faces of Stef and Steve swam into focus. I turned my head with difficulty and discovered I was in a hospital bed, with my arms bandaged up and a drip attached to my hand. The clean sanitary smell made me feel quite sick. I turned my attention back to Steve as he said “Are you OK Bri?”.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, “What the fuck happened to me?”.

“The doctors said that the amount of alcohol in your system combined with your blood loss made you collapse.” said Stef quietly, once again not bringing himself to look me in the eye.

“They also said they want to keep you in here overnight, just to make sure you get enough fluids to recover” added Steve, as an afterthought.

“Oh, I guess that means we will have to cancel the concert then?” I said, suddenly remembering the next days plans.

“Yeah, the tour manager has arranged it already.” replied Stef

We sat in silence for what seemed like hours until Steve got up.

“I’m going to get a coffee, do you want one Stef?”. He asked whilst wringing his hands together. He looked as though he had a lot on his mind.

“No, I’m OK” replied Stef. We both watched Steve leave the room and head off in search of some well-needed caffeine before turning back to each other. Before I could say anything Stefan spoke up.

“I’m so sorry Bri, if I would have known you would do this I suppose I would have done things a little differently.” he said, taking my hand in his.

“Yes well, you obviously don’t feel the same way about me so we had better just try to forget things.” I replied a little too icily, watching those large brown eyes contort into an expression begging to be forgiven.

“I’m... I’m just so sorry. What more can I say?” he said as he leant forward and held me in his arms. I felt so warm and safe in his gentle grip, but the knowledge I couldn’t have him just infuriated me. So I just hugged him back and gritted my teeth to stop myself from screaming out loud.

The concert we were due to play in Paris the next day was cancelled. They just told the press it was due to personal issues. No-one apart from us ever knew the real reason we missed that concert.

After that Stef and I never talked about that night again. We never discussed what happened. Steve just assumed I was a bit fucked up on drink and drugs and feeling depressive. I just carried on as though nothing had happened, keeping my feelings bottled up inside me. The pain didn’t hurt so much after a year or so. I kept it buried deep in my heart. Stef seemed to forget pretty quickly, as he got himself boyfriend after boyfriend. It killed me to see him with other people but I had to keep up facade. When the rumours started up about Stef and myself seeing each other, it was nearly enough to send me over the edge again. We flirted with each other on stage to please the fans and so lots of them believed it was true. How I wished it was. Every time I read articles about it or when people asked me about it, I seriously considered re-visiting that fateful bathroom. Luckily they died away after a while, when people got bored and moved onto another rumour. I was able to start seeing other people again. But I never really felt anything for any of them. I was still desperately in love with Stef. I just used them to convince him everything was fine again.

And so that brings us up to the present day. I met Alex about a year ago as I said before. It was at some club and I was getting intoxicated whilst watching Stef with his new lovely Latino boy. He came over to me and started chatting and buying me drinks. I think I only let him sit with me because he kept buying more alcohol. At the end of the night I was so wrecked I couldn’t even walk straight and he offered to take me home, except for he took me to his home. I didn’t even realise until we were on his bed and he was kissing me. My heart really wasn’t up for another useless fuck, but it seemed my body wanted it so I just let him continue. And its pretty much been this way ever since. I pine over Stef during the day when we do band-related work, and I use Alex as a release from this cruel world at night.

Oh god, my mind aches from recounting that story. I try not to remember it, it brings back too many painful memories. My head slides on the cool leather of the sofa as I lay down, my arm reaching out for a bottle which I’m sure is on the glass coffee table by my side. Its not there so I give up. The adrenalin has finally worn off and I’m feeling too tired to move. But suddenly I become aware of a distant sound. The sound becomes louder and louder until I realise its someone pounding on my front door.

“Brian, let me in” someone is yelling.

Shit, its Stefan. I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to him so I decide to keep quiet.

“Bri, I know you’re in there. If you don’t let me in I’m going to break the door down” the voice says again, ripping through my head. I have no doubt he could break the door down, but I’m hoping its an empty threat. I put my hands to my ears to try and drown out the sound, and I close my eyes to keep out the torturing memories that keep flooding back.

“Alright, I warned you. Steve, help me here”

There is an almighty crash as I can only assume my flat is broken into by my two best friends. There are heavy footsteps on the floor and I can sense someone standing over me so I carefully open my eyes. I find myself looking into the beloved face of Stefan. But instead of the angry contortion I expected myself to me looking at, I only see worry and concern in those deep, heart-filling brown eyes.

“Shit, Bri. You really need some help”

I can’t speak. I can’t say anything to either of them. How the fuck do I explain my actions in the bar without stripping bare the contents of my soul? It’s as though there is a mental barrier preventing me from speaking. They seem to understand though. They have seen me fucked up many times before and I think they both know that this is the worst. Steve sits down by my feet and Stef lifts my head up off the sofa and pulls me into a tight embrace. We sit like this for what doesn’t seem like long enough. My head buried into Stef’s warm comfortable chest, and Steve looking around the room, not knowing quite what to say.

“He’s doing OK now. Alex, I mean” Stef whispers into my ear, as if the words would comfort me somehow. I know its mean but at this moment in time I really don’t give a shit how Alex is doing. He’s the last person on my mind right now. I just murmur something inaudible.

“Why did you do it Bri?” he asks, this time a bit louder so Steve can hear. My mind spins and I feel the anger rising in me again. Does he really want to know why I felt the urge to smash my so-called lover’s face into a wall? Does he really want to know why I have faked my way through hopeless and pointless relationships for the past few years? I don’t quite think he’s ready for the truth. So I keep silent.

“Did he hurt you? If so we’ll go after him, you know we would” he asks softly, thinking he has hit the right reason. I lift my head grudgingly away from his warm body and stare into those deep, soul-searching eyes. Then I snap. He thinks he knows everything about me. Well he doesn’t. What he thinks he knows, couldn’t be further from the truth. I stand up and yell and scream. My voice is just screaming things at him, I can’t even keep up with myself.

“No, he didn’t fucking hurt me. He never did anything wrong to me. He was lovely and kind and generous. But I fucking hate him. I can’t stand being around him. It just infuriates me. And do you know why Stefan? Come on, you think you know everything about me. Why?”

“I…I don’t know” he stammers at me. He looks so small and fragile just sitting there. Genuinely shocked by the behaviour of this short lady-boy who is screaming uncontrollably at him. But I can’t control myself now, its gone too far. And so I continue yelling.

“It’s because I LOVE YOU. I fucking love you. And you can’t see it, either that or you just don’t care. Do you have any idea how much you have hurt me? Do you know the pain and torture it has caused me to see you with other people? Ever since that fucking night when you fucked me then rejected me. I have felt as though I’m not good enough for you. As if I need to improve myself in some way. That’s why I’ve started cutting myself again, and that’s why I attacked Alex. Because I wanted to make the pain go away. The pain that you fucking caused Stefan.”

With that Steve decides this is a thing best left between me and Stef, and quietly creeps out of the flat hoping we won’t notice. I have of course, but now it just leaves me standing in front of my only love, having just admitted that to him. You would think I’d be happy, that it would be all better now. But the look on Stefan’s face is telling me something different. It’s a mixture of shock and pity. Really not the reaction I was hoping for. I can feel my legs give way underneath me and my stomach churns as if I had just been on a roller coaster. My legs buckle beneath me and I crumple to the floor.

I curl up in a ball, silent tears now running down my face. I’m trying to hide them from Stefan but I’m sure he can hear my quiet sobs. I hear the sofa creak as he slides off it and onto the floor next to me. His arm slides around my shoulders trying to comfort me.

“I never knew you still felt this way. I just had no idea.” he whispers so quietly it barely makes a sound.

“Yes well you obviously didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your own busy little life with all those lovely boyfriends.” I’m speaking to myself more than anything. He lets out a long sigh and the sweet air tickles my ear. I just wish I could have him. That he could finally be mine.

My thoughts are interrupted by his strong yet gentle arms pulling me up into a sitting position. I try to hide my face behind my hair but then I remember that this isn’t 1997, its 2004 and sadly my hair is now at a shorter, less face-hiding length. He puts his hands on my cheeks to make me look at him.

“Look at me. You know I love you. You and Steve mean more to me than anything else in the world. I don’t know what I would do without you. It’s just…” he says, pausing to think of the right way to break things to me, but I already know.

“You don’t love me that way?” I say, tonelessly. Knowing exactly what to expect.

“I…I’m with Michael. I can’t do anything to hurt him” he says sorrowfully.

“I understand. That’s why I never said anything before. It’s just not meant to be. Now if you don’t mind I want to be alone” I pull away from his grip and hug my knees to my chest, trying to protect myself from the outside world. After a second of silence instead of getting up and leaving I hear his clear voice penetrate the air again.

“I really don’t think you should be alone Bri. Not after what happened the last time.”

“Oh do you think I need babysitting or something? Better stay with the child in case he does something stupid?” My anger flares up again. I can’t help it, my emotions are all over the place. The last person I want to be screaming at is Stefan but I just can’t stop.

“Maybe I do need looking after, but not by you. I’ve just been rejected by you again, I don’t want you here.” He looks shocked again, probably amazed that one person can have so much rage in them.

“Please Bri, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself..” I cut him off, screaming and yelling once again. I wonder what the neighbours are thinking.

“JUST GO! GET OUT!”

He finally gets the point, stands up and walks out of the door. Out of my life. Slamming it shut as if he is locking away my heart.

~^*^~ Stef’s Point Of View ~^*^~

I can’t believe he’s acting like this. I mean I know it must be hurting him right now, things have gotten pretty fucked up. But I just wanted to make sure he’s OK. I couldn’t continue to live if anything happened to him. I find myself walking out of the flat building and onto the cold street. I see a familiar car with a familiar face in it. Steve. He opens the door and motions for me to get in. He looks tired, not surprising as it’s now 3 in the morning, but concerned.

“What happened?”

“I told him nothing could ever happen between us and threw a fit. I only wanted to stay with him to make sure he was alright but he wasn’t having any of it.” I sighed. How I wish I could just make things better for him. How I wish…

“Why did you say that? Why not just tell him the truth?” Steve asks me, getting straight to the point as usual. I pretend to not know what he’s talking about.

“What do you mean? I did tell him the truth” I put my head in my hands. I know what’s coming, even though we have never spoken about this subject during our whole time as friends.

“Oh come off it Stef. I know mate. Maybe even Bri knows deep down, maybe that’s why he chose tonight to finally confess things.” He’s so right. For the first time tonight things are finally making sense. I know what I have to do, I just hope Bri doesn’t do anything stupid.

“Ok, you know where to go Steve” And with that we drive off into the darkness. I turn around and look at the fading building in the distance. Hopefully it won’t be the last time I see it tonight.

~^*^~ Brian’s Point Of View ~^*^~

I’m still laying on the floor where Stef left me. The flat door is open letting in a chilling cold breeze that isn’t very comforting. I feel so numb all over. My mind is spinning, trying to process what has just happened. I’ve lost everyone. Alex, though not that great a loss I feel, Stef, Steve. They have all gone. It’s the fucking end of Placebo. What am I going to do now? I have no friends, no career, nothing. I’m going to have to live on the streets, or worse, become a dustman.

Shit. I can’t believe what I’ve done, with one night I have destroyed so much. Whole relationships have been pulled apart, all because I can’t fucking get what I want.

I can feel the heavy cold tears run down my cheeks again. I feel so alone. I wish Stef was here to comfort me, take me in his arms and tell me everything is going to be alright. But he won’t, because he’s never coming back. Not after the way I’ve treated him. God damn, why do I have to be such a bitch? He was only thinking of me and I screamed and yelled at him.

Its times like this that only alcohol can help the situation, so I climb rather unsteadily to my feet and move into the cold bare kitchen. The light is blindingly bright in here. I grab the comforting bottle of vodka and shuffle back into the living room, totally forgetting about the open door. I collapse onto the sofa, the leather now feels uncomfortably hot and clammy. I don’t really care though, my attention is totally absorbed by the healing liquid in my hand. I think I downed half a bottle in one go, as is usual in these kind of situations. The alcohol goes straight to my head and I start to feel drowsy. Why the fuck does all this happen to me? Nothing ever goes right in my life, nothing. I wish I could just end the pain. My mind goes blank as I down the rest of the bottle, letting it slip out of my hands and onto the floor.

But why blame anyone else? Its my own fault. I’m so fucking stupid. I can hear a voice in the distance chanting it, fucking stupid. It echoes and twists around my confused brain until I realised its my own voice screaming the same phrase over and over again. I feel the sudden burning urge to destroy things, but I hold back. I can’t go acting like a spoilt child again. It’s as though I have no control over my hands though. They rapidly move towards the first thing I can see, the empty bottle on the floor. It smashes against the wall as I hurl it with all my might. I push the glass coffee table over and the various contents shatter on the floor. Next to go is the book case, ripped pages flying through the air like some kind of odd creature. I kick my heavy black boot through the TV screen, all the while screaming obscenities at thin air. My fists balled up, I punch the wall. One of the framed photos falls to the floor. I stop to stare at it, the flat eerily silent without my manic wailing or the noise of destruction. Its me and Stef, on holiday last year in Spain. He has his arm around me and we look the perfect image of happiness. How I want to go back to that, to the happy pretending. But I can’t now.

“It’s all fucking ruined” I scream to the silence around me. “All fucking ruined”. A small sob escapes my lips. The sweat has matted my hair to my head, and most probably smeared my makeup into something truly hideous. But for once tonight I just don’t care. My heart is beating to some twisted rhythm, but I fall to the floor exhausted, and curl up into a ball amongst the destruction. The alcohol washing me away on a tide on uneasy sleep.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep for, but suddenly my mind is startlingly awake. I try to open my eyes but it seems they are just not up to it. My whole body is aching and all I can do is stay curled up on the floor. Suddenly my ears pick up a noise, somewhere by the door. I can hear the heavy footsteps and I dread to think who owns them. I try to cry out, but it appears my voice won’t work either. There is a crunch as the feet connect with the broken glass of the coffee table, which is now littered over the floor. The person is so close I can feel the heat radiating off their body. My muscles tense in fright, I left the bloody door wide open. This could be anyone. I brace myself for the inevitable blow, but it never comes. Instead I feel strong gentle arms wrapping themselves around my legs and chest. I know these arms better than anything else in the world. Its Stef.

I’m confused as to why he’s back again. I saw the hurt in his face when he left earlier, I was convinced he was gone for good. But all my worries are put on hold as he slowly lifts me up and carries me. I nearly melt into his arms, trying to absorb some of his warmth into my shockingly cold body. Just as I start to enjoy the gently swaying rhythm of his walking, it stops, and I find myself laid down on my bed. There is a creaking and an indentation appears next to me on the bed. I try with all my might to force my eyes open, and after what seems like ages of trying they grudgingly give in. I blink a few times to try and adjust to the darkness of my room, and slowly Stef’s outline swims into view.

He looks down at me with a look of worry on his face, but curiously half mixed with shy smile. I wonder what’s up, maybe he had a good night with Michael. Ugh, I shudder at the memory of that name.

“Hey Stef” I manage to choke out. Obviously my throat doesn’t seem so intent on letting me speak. He slowly puts a gentle hand out to stroke my cheek as I clear my throat.

“Why… why are you back? I thought you hated me..” I say quietly, trying to avoid his watchful gaze. He shifts slightly on the bed and bends down closer to my face.

“I came back because, well, I have something important to tell you” he says. My mind spins, he’s going to tell me he’s moving away. That the band is over, that Steve never wants to see me again. I don’t think I can handle this right now, I don’t want to lose my best friends but it looks as though it has come to that.

He takes a deep breath, almost as though he is preparing himself to break the news to me. Two large tears roll down my cheeks as I think about what he’s going to say. I let out a quiet sob to myself as he starts to talk.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I guess I never realised before. But its coming out now so… Oh Bri, why are you crying?” He puts his arms around my shoulders and pulls me up into one of those wonderfully comforting Stef hugs. I manage to stutter out my fears into the comfort of Stef’s shirt.

“Bbecause you want the band to end, and you and Steve are both going to leave me, and I don’t want to be alone…” At that there is a deadly moment of silence. My worst fears had been confirmed. It was true. I really was going to be all alone.

Then suddenly the tension is broken by Stef’s soft laughing. I can’t believe he is laughing at me. After all this, the tears, the tantrums. All he can do is laugh at me.

“I would never leave. Never. Not even if you called me a fucking cunt and tried to kill me” he says gently into my ear, as I turn my head to look at him. I’m feeling thoroughly confused now, and all I can do is sit and listen to what he has to say. He takes another deep breath and looks the most nervous I have ever seen him.

“I… What I’ve been trying to say is that I’m in love with you too Bri. It may have taken me a while to realise it, but I’ve always loved you.”

My head is reeling with a thousand questions. I haven’t actually really processed the information but as usual my mouth speaks before my brain thinks.

“But… but what about Michael?” I find myself asking. I don’t think Stef would give up his boyfriend just for me.

“Oh, I’ve told him its over. Steve drove me round there earlier. That’s where I’ve been all this time.” He replies softly, gently stroking my face. I couldn’t have been more wrong about Stef. Then suddenly it hits me. My love, my one and only love, has just left his boyfriend of a year, for me. All for me. My dreams and wishes have finally come true. After all these years something has finally gone right. I feel as though fireworks are going off in my heart. The warm kind of fuzzy feeling that makes you feel sick when you see a young couple together in a café.

“I….I…” I try to speak but words won’t come out. Stef hushes my attempts by placing a long finger on my lips. Then slowly, achingly slowly, he leans down towards me. Moist lips glistening in the low light coming from the window. It seems like forever until our lips connect. A gentle loving kiss that has the promise of something more passionate. His tongue runs over my lips hesitantly, but I open my mouth slightly to let my tongue intertwine with his. Our mouths lock together, seamlessly becoming one as I pull him down onto the bed with me.

He runs his hand slowly down my spine, which makes my whole body tingle with delight. We lay on the bed for ages, gently kissing each other, exploring each others bodies as though for the first time. I shiver every time he touches my face, each caress seeming like a blessing. My mind still hasn’t caught up with everything, but I’m happy for once just to lie back and enjoy things, not having to worry about consequences. I slide my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt, savouring the feel of his smooth silky skin against mine. Just high enough to reach his nipples, but twisting around them, softly teasing him. He moans above me, and kisses me slightly harder as if in protest. I move my hands back down and slowly peel his shirt off his glistening body, only pausing kissing to pull it over his head. Now my hands roam all over his chest, marvelling at the feel of his cool skin.

His kisses get more passionate, teeth gently biting my lower lip, his tongue twirling around mine like some kind of strange pirouette. And my shirt is pulled off, thrown to join Stef’s on the floor. I briefly notice the contrast between the black and the white, then my attention is pulled back to Stef as he licks a trail along my own bare chest. He gently teases his way up to my nipples, flicking around them with a mad torture. He raises his head to look at me, to see the impact he is making on me. I just smile and kiss him firmly on the lips, before watching as he slowly makes his way back down my chest. Stopping occasionally to suck at the flesh, leaving the tell tale red marks.

I moan gently in delight as his teeth make contact with my nipple, testing the hard smooth skin with his tongue. He slides his hand down my side to reach the top of my jeans, and ever so slowly moves across my stomach. All the time teasing me with his tongue. I have wanted him for so long, I don’t think my body can take much more teasing.

He slowly slips his hand under the waistband of my jeans, but a shiver of panic runs through my mind. I try to shake it off, and continue enjoying myself but Stef has stopped and is looking at me concernedly.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, removing his hand from my jeans and holding my side. “Don’t you want this?”

“Of course I do, I’m fine” I reply, trying to hide the panic and doubt now growing in the pit of my stomach.

“No, you’re not fine. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me Bri. Please?” he asks, almost pleadingly. He can read me so well. I take a deep breath as I prepare to pour my heart out to him, not for the first time tonight.

“I just keep remembering the last time. I don’t want it to happen again” I try not to look Stef in the eyes, but it seems an impossible task to avoid those deep pools of emotion. He looks back at me, softly stroking my side.

“It won’t. I want things to be perfect this time.” he smiles down at me, but I obviously don’t look convinced.

He slips off me onto the bed and pulls my body close over to him. He plants a gentle kiss on my forehead and holds me tight in his strong arms.

“How about if you’re in control? Then if you feel uncomfortable you can stop” he tells me, as he pulls me over on top of him. I do feel a lot more confident knowing that I’m in control of things and I start to relax again. I let a small smile creep across my face to reassure him that I’m fine now, as he lifts his fingers up to my face barely touching the skin.

I let my hands wander across his bare, marvellously smooth chest. Slowly, trying to remember every part of him. I kiss him again, this time more insistently as my passion is once again ignited. Our groins brush against each other and my whole body feels on fire. All these years of yearning for the one thing I couldn’t have has made me a bit desperate in my task. I wriggle my hands down his sides to reach his jeans and unzip his fly, easing the straining in his pants. All the time never breaking that needful kiss. I attempt to inch his jeans down past his waist, but I can’t see what I’m doing so my efforts are quite unsuccessful. Stef lifts his hips up off the bed and I manage to slide his jeans off and onto the floor.

I pause what I’m doing for a second to pull my own uncomfortably tight jeans off, and throw them on the floor to join the other clothes. I stop and look down at the tall, sweating figure below me. I carefully take in every detail on his body, from his taut stomach muscles and lean arms to the very obvious bulge in his boxers. I lick my lips slowly and Stef looks as though he is about to burst from the anticipation. I think about teasing him for a split second, but then I realise my own horniness couldn’t cope with it. So I quickly remove the final obstacle standing in the way of me, and Stefs’ complete nakedness.

I straddle his expectant body, throbbing cocks touching, as I lean down to kiss him again. I run my hands down his body, slipping along his back as I move my body down his. I grasp his hips firmly as my tongue reaches its destination, flicking out to test the swollen head of Stef’s cock, making him moan softly.

I trail my tongue up his length before enclosing it in my mouth. Stef’s hands creep down and his fingers twist themselves in my hair, gripping me closer. I start to slowly suck and I can hear Stef’s breathing getting heavier. One of my hands lets go of his hip and moves down to grip my own hard cock, stroking in rhythm with my sucking. I let out a moan which almost brings Stef to the point of intensity, so I slow down a bit to let him enjoy the experience. My tongue swirls around my mouth, tasting him and taking him in. I gently graze my teeth along the underside of his cock, as his moans get louder and more desperate. I increase the rhythm, my fist now enclosing my hardness. The sensation is building inside of me almost to the point of explosion, so I stop and slide back up Stef’s panting body, teasingly licking one nipple. I move my mouth back up to his and kiss him with all the passion I can find in me. He pushes his tongue against mine, tasting himself as I grope around on the bedside table. I sit back up as I find the desired packets, and Stef tears one open and rolls the condom over my waiting cock. I prepare myself with a generous amount of lube and gently enter him. I bend down to kiss him again, unable to resist those moist lips and he wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me close. I start moving into him with a slow rhythm and let a moan escape. His warmth totally encloses me and makes me feel safe. My hand travels down to find his cock, and I stroke it with the same rhythm, delighting as he lets out a low soft growl.

Stef pushes his hips up to brush mine, so I start to move faster, desperate for release yet wanting to relish every moment.

I can feel myself reaching an orgasmic point, and I glance down to Stef. He looks the picture of beauty, with cheeks slightly flushed, and swollen lips slightly parted. He has an entrancing heavy-lidded gaze and he blinks up at me, his eyelashes tremble slightly. Hot cum spills over my stomach and hand as Stef yells my name with earth-shattering lust. His muscles contract around me, and I throw my head back as a wave of pleasure sweeps over my own body. The noises from outside my window suddenly disappear and all I can see is Stef writhing in orgasmic bliss underneath me. My breathing slowly subsides and the rest of the room gradually comes back into focus.

I withdraw my spent cock and throw the condom in the bin, which is rather conveniently placed next to the bed. Every muscle in my body suddenly aches, so I collapse next to Stefan and curl up into his warmth. He moves his arm to pull the covers up around us, and then wraps it comfortingly around my shoulders. We lie in silence, just absorbing the sounds of the night and the feeling of each other.

Stef’s clear voice cuts through the quietness, awaking me from my light sleep.

“Bri?”

“mmmhmm?”

“There's something else I never told you..”

I sit up, not knowing quite what to expect, but Stef doesn’t look worried. He looks relatively calm. So I settle back down by his side, one arm propping my head up so I can just about see his face in the moonlight.

“Its just you know that day, with the... the bathroom incident.”

I nod my head, trying not to remember that much. I’d rather not think about the past right now.

“Well I blamed myself so much. I cried so much and just sat in the tourbus not knowing quite what to do. I felt so helpless watching your small body being taken off in the ambulance, with the knowledge that there was nothing I could do. I don’t know what I would have done if I would have lost you..”

He reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair, as if to make sure I‘m really here.

“Please don’t ever leave me like that again?”

He looks at me with large sorrowful puppy eyes, and its all I can do to stop myself ravaging him again right there. I smile slightly and pull myself closer to his warm, slender body. I reach an arm across his bare chest and kiss him slowly on the lips.

“I’m never going to leave you baby.”