Golden Phoenix III
"Justin. Justin." Chris called out softly into the room, careful not to raise
his voice too high to disturb the other patrons of the hospital. "I got you your
favorite cereal, Curly. Apple Jacks."
Chris budged open the door and invited himself in with a bowl of Apple Jacks
immersed in low fat milk. As soon as his eyes fell upon the empty bed, the bowl
crashed onto the floor. Justin was gone. How could he be gone? Last night, he
was lying in his bed, attached to tubes. Now, he was gone. There was no sight
of Justin anywhere. The only thing that remained in the hospital room was the
envelope addressed to everyone.
"JC! JC! Get in here!" Chris shrieked.
Within seconds, JC was in the room, tearing at the envelope as everyone crowded
by the door. All eyes focused on JC as he read the letter out loud.
Dear everyone,
I know that it's wrong of me to just leave like that without saying goodbye, but
I have to get away. Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me. Am I
doing something wrong? Why does this keep happening to me? I'm ashamed to show
my face. I need to get away. I need time to myself. Don't worry, Josh, I'll be
okay. I called mom last night. I'm going to go to Europe and stay with her for a
little while. Please don't be too harsh on Joey. He didn't know what he was
doing. He was drunk. I forgave him and you all should, too. Good bye.
Love always,
Justin.
The letter fell to the floor as JC sunk to the bed. Justin was gone.
The colossal airport made it nearly impossible to locate anyone in the crowd.
Joey spun around several times, trying to find Justin before he left for Europe.
He had to talk to him. He had to apologize to him at the very least. He had to
explain himself to him. He just had to.
Pushing through hoards of people, Joey weaved his way in and out of traffic. He
jumped up and down a few times so he could see above the crowd for any signs of
his best friend. At last his perseverance paid off. To the far left was
Justin, sitting in the chair with Lonnie in the seat right next to him.
"Justin! Justin!" Joey hollered across the airport.
Upon hearing Joey's voice, Justin quickly got up and proceeded to walk away with
the aid of a cane. He was trying to get away from him. His best friend feared
him now. He ran after Justin, but Lonnie intercepted his path, preventing him
from going any further. He pleaded with Lonnie desperately. He had to apologize
to Justin. He just had to. Lonnie reluctantly agreed to let Joey cross by him.
He ran after Justin, successfully meeting up with him.
"Justin. Justin."
Justin refused to look at him. He continued to speed ahead. As Joey picked up
his pace, so did Justin until exhaustion and pain took precedence over his body
and Justin needed to rest. He quickly turned into the restroom. Joey quickly
caught up with his best friend. He reached out for his arm when Justin swiftly
swirled around.
"Stay away from me." Justin said to him, aiming the cane at him. Still, Joey
stepped closer. "Don't come near me, Joey. Please just let me be."
The pain in Justin's pleading voice broke his heart. Justin collapsed onto the
floor, supporting his body with his hand. In no time, Justin was in tears. The
image of his weeping friend was reminiscent of a couple of nights before. And
for the first time in a long time, Joey realized the extent of his problem. Joey
cautiously sat next to Justin. He cautiously reached for him and when Justin
leaned into him, Joey breathed in a sigh of relief.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Justin." Joey repeated.
Justin gave no verbal response. Only more tears were shed from his watery eyes.
There was nothing Joey could say or do that would change the fact that Justin
was raped by his best friend, someone he had trusted sincerely.
"I know you were drunk, but it still hurts." Justin cried. "It still hurts."
"I know. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
"What's worse than the rape itself were the words you said to me when you raped
me. You called me a whore, Joey. You told me that I deserved everything that was
happening to me." Justin explained.
"I didn't mean them. I swear, Justin, I love you. I didn't mean anything. I
never meant to hurt you."
"But you did." Justin finally calmed down. "I can forgive you, Joey, but for
the rest of my life, I can never forget what happened to me in that room that
night."
"Justin. I don't know how many more times I can say this, but I'm sorry. I'm
truly sorry for causing you so much pain."
"You kept apologizing to me when there's someone who deserves your apology as
much as I do."
And then he it occurred to him.
"Lance."
"There's no point of feeling remorse if you won't do something about it."
"Justin, I-"
"I know you were drunk and that's why even though I hate what you did to me, I
can't hate you because I know that you didn't mean to hurt me. But it still
hurts. Not just my body, but my heart. Joey, I trusted you."
"I know."
"Now, I can't even look you straight in the eyes without getting emotional about
it."
"What can I do to correct this? To mend you?"
"I'll heal, Joey." Justin told him. "Like you said, this isn't the first time.
I should get used to it by now. I'll be okay. I'll find a way to regain my
life. But..."
"But what?" Joey probed. "Anything, Justin, you have it."
"What you can do for me, for Lance, but most importantly for yourself is get
help." Justin said.
"Get help?"
"Yes. Help. Only then can I start forgetting what happened that night."
"Justin, I don't know." Joey admitted, honestly. "I don't think I can do it. I'm
not strong enough."
"Then how the hell am I'm supposed to do it?!" Justin shouted in frustration.
No response.
Justin sighed deeply, getting up and heading towards the door. Joey would never
change. He would never seek help.
"Good bye, Joey."
Joey wanted nothing more than to run after Justin, beg him to stay, promise him
to get help, but Joey couldn't bring himself to move. He watched as Justin
limped his way out of the restroom. He could see Lonnie as the door closed once
more, but not before catching a glimpse of the hatred in Lonnie's eyes. Joey
decided not too long ago that it was pointless to mope around in the restroom.
What good did it do anyways? Nothing. Justin was still gone. Justin was still on
his way to Europe. And he was still the cause of Justin's sudden departure from
the group.
He left the airport. Instead of catching a cab like he would usually do, Joey
decided that he needed a walk to reflect if anything at all. What his life had
become and how alcohol had affected his life. What his life would become if he
did not stop drinking. He didn't want to die with a bottle of wine in hands.
That was not how he wanted people to remember him, especially Lance. Lance. His
saviour. He remembered the words Justin echoed to him in the restroom. Although
so very young, with all the shit he had gone through, Justin was wise beyond his
years. Joey owed not only to Justin, but also to Lance to seek help. Lance had
always been there for him. He was always at his side even when no one else
seemed to care. God. He loved Lance. Everything about Lance was perfect in his
eyes, especially his jaded green eyes. Joey loved gazing into them for sometimes
if he looked close enough, he could see his future in Lance's eyes. A future he
wanted to have with Lance, and Lance alone.
"Hey, Joe. Back for more?" Bartender Mike asked.
"No." Joey said, simply.
"Sure?"
He had intended to stop by the nightclub to inform Mike and the other bartenders
that he was no longer coming to the club and then tip them for their continual
service even when he was a drunken bastard. That was his intentions. He wanted
to tell them that there were places he would rather be than at their club. In
Lance's arms in their bed. Nothing felt more like home than in Lance's arms.
His intentions were good. Were good.
Bartender Mike offered to buy Joey one last drink. Joey refused the drink, but
Mike insisted. To celebrate the turning of a new leaf, he said. Glasses raised
in the air, Joey took his first sip of the champagne. Another sip and another.
His weakness getting the best of him and an hour after he had arrived, Joey was
on the floor, licking the spilled alcohol off the floor. Mighty good alcohol,
according to Joey.
He did not remember much about that night. He did not remember going upstairs
and fucking bartender Mike while calling out Lance's name. He did not remember
the tears in his boyfriend's eyes as he stood in the doorway witnessing his
boyfriend thrusting into the bartender. He did not remember the fight they had
right outside the club. And he sure as hell did not remember slapping Lance
across the face, sending his boyfriend to the ground, as patrons looked on. He
did not remember when Lance half carried him to the cab or the tears that were
shed from Lance's eyes during the solemn cab ride back to the hotel. He did not
remember when Lance rubbed his back as he vomited into the toilet. He never
remembered much about the nights of his drinking binges. He would rather forget
them. They were never pleasant memories he wanted to look back on. Better left
forgotten.
It was morning, again. The blinding sunlight shone pass through the sheer
curtains and struck Joey in the face. Squinting his eyes, he turned around,
expecting a body pressed against him. Joey's eyes shot wide open with the
realization. Fear of Lance finally having enough and leaving him drained the
color from his face. He vaulted out of bed, ready to sprint across the hall in
search of his boyfriend when he noticed Lance sitting out in the balcony by
himself.
Reaching inside the nightstand for an Advil, Joey quickly swallowed the tiny
pill, neglecting to even find water to wash it down. His priority right now was
his boyfriend.
Joey cautiously stepped out of bed. His head pounded tremendously still even
though it had been hours since he had his last glass. With enough
concentration, Joey successfully made his way to the balcony without falling
down. Once outside, he quietly sat on the chair next to Lance.
"Been out here long?" He asked.
"Since last night." Lance answered. His gaze, away from Joey, still focused on
the luscious green garden down below.
"You didn't come to bed last night?" Joey asked.
"No."
"No? And why not? What's wrong, Lance? Talk to me."
Joey grabbed Lance's arm and shifted his body towards. He gasped at the sight
before him. He could not see Lance's beautiful green eyes past the swollen
eyelid.
"This is why." Lance murmured, pointing to his left eye.
"Oh, my God, Lance, it wasn't me, was it?"
"It's always you."
"Lance, I-"
"Joey, last night, you hit me. Not the first time so I brushed it off. You were
drunk. Hell, I even forgave you for fucking that bartender. But as I watched
you got sick on the tiled bathroom floor of the hotel, sweating profusely and
shaking so hard, as you puked your brains out, I realized that I could no longer
live like this anymore. As I put you in bed last night, I decided that I will
no longer crawl into your bed."
"Lance, please-"
"I didn't finish." Lance interrupted him. Taking Joey's hands in his, Lance
continued, "I will no longer crawl into your bed until you seek help for your
drinking problem. This is for the best. For me. But most importantly, for you.
I love you. I'll always love you. I don't think I can ever stop loving you."
"I love you, too." Joey cried. "But I don't know if I can do it."
"You'll never know if you don't try."
"I'm scared, Lance. What if I can't do it?"
"Honestly, I am, too. But we can't let the fear of failure stop you trying.
Will you please try for us?"
As hard a feat it was to break this destructive cycle of alcohol abuse, one look
into Lance's pleading jaded eyes, Joey couldn't say no. He nodded slowly, vowing
that he would die trying to stop drinking.
(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers
