Crushed Pt. 05

"I don't really know where to start," he sighed. "I feel like I spend my life apologising for my past mistakes but I think first I want to explain. I was hurt by what you did, and what you said to Alex. I felt like you were supposed to have my back and that instead you stabbed me in it," he paused and she looked like she was about to speak but he continued over her firmly.

"But, with time I've calmed down and see that one, you didn't need to be honest with me, you could have just kept your conversation with Alex to yourself, and I really value that you were honest despite knowing what might happen. And two, you cared about Alex. And although his decision has hurt me, I'm so fucking proud of him for making it. I'm glad that you were a good enough friend to him, not to let our friendship keep your mouth shut."

He was surprised to see his hand tremble as he brushed his eyes, the wetness there automatic whenever he brought up Alex.

"So, thank you, and I'm sorry for how I acted. You know I get... angry." He spat the word out, feeling that gnawing self hatred well up again. What Aiden and Ben had done such a good job of helping him with over the last two weeks. I wish I didn't but, I'm trying."

Megan had steady streams of tears flowing down her cheeks now, she had removed her glasses which had begun to steam up, and without them her eyes looked red and puffy. She watched him, waiting to see if he was done before breathing a shuddering hitched breath.

"Oh Logan, I'm so sorry too. I love you, you're like a brother to me, and I've hated seeing you hurting this much. I can't tell you how worried I've been that you'd do something stupid to- punish yourself or, or something."

"I almost did, but I've turned it around. Some old friends helped."

"Oh god, not Chris and-"

"No. Well, technically yes but no. It's not Chris, it's Aiden and Ben, they've changed, they're cool now."

She nodded quietly, "I'm just so happy to see you looking like... you again."

"Me too," he smiled sadly.

"Can I have a hug?" She asked then in a small voice and he laughed, she stood up and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him so tightly he could barely breathe, burying her damp face into his chest. He smiled and closed his eyes, holding her to his chest and resting a cheek against her auburn curly hair. She smelled like caramel, it was comforting. It was good to have her back, she was as good as his family. Without her and without Alex, he had been a ship without an anchor. But now he finally felt like he was back in control.

"Did you see him? Back home? Any idea what he's doing?" She asked.

He waited a long time before answering, "no. He could be anywhere."

Eventually she lifted her head and grinned.

"I've got some popcorn and new episodes of Drag Race downloaded?"

"Well what are you waiting for idiot, go get them!"

She laughed and ran from the room, he smiled after her and felt a weight lift from his chest. It was getting easier. It was still painful to be alive, but moments like this helped.

He glanced to the drawings that were tacked above his desk and felt that itch in his fingers that he got when he needed to create something. He looked down at them, as if expecting to see the physical effect of the strange tingling feeling, but it was nothing. And yet he smiled, happy that it had returned at last, and reached into the drawer of his desk for his tatty old sketchbook.

* * *

Alex: 14th February

"Wow, honestly Alex. This is really impressive," Helen said, peering over her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose to smile at him. "You write with such emotion, I can feel it seeping off the page. It's... it's gorgeous."

"You said to write from the heart," he said with a sad smile in response, looking at the pages in her hands and feeling an odd attachment to them, as if they were alive.

"Alex I have to ask, is any of this true? Because if it is..."

"Loosely," he replied sheepishly. "I embellished."

"And is this romantic interest character based on your lovely boyfriend?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Pity. Readers love a happy ending. Keep going, not much left now."

It was the end of class, so he took his work from her and shoved it into his bag. A few more chapters and he would be done. The hours he had poured into his first ever book. He felt proud of his progress.

He thanked Helena and then headed out to the front of the building. He smiled when he saw the familiar face waiting for him. He approached and they embraced, sharing a brief kiss before walking hand in hand.

"Good day?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah not bad, books coming along well. Just got to work out how it ends."

"Was Helena a fan?"

"Yeah, I think the weeks of scribbled out paragraphs and restarts are finally paying off. I only got like two notes this time."

"Thanks great babe, I'm so proud of you," he smiled.

They headed back to the little flat and Alex smiled at the romantic candles and heavenly smell of food wafting from the oven. Lucas had set up a table in the middle of the studio flat with a full dinner set up. He smiled and turned to him.

"What's this for?!"

"Happy Valentines," Lucas said sheepishly.

Alex felt a sudden lurch in his gut, "no. It's not is it?!"

Lucas laughed, "I knew you'd forget. But that's ok, I know you've been working flat out. Two jobs and writing a book? You're mental," he said, but gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Alex had considered if he was mental on many occasions. And yet, writing the book was addictive. It was a dramatised version of his journal. Retelling his story with his sexuality, with Logan, all under the guise of fiction. He captured the painful memories and contrasted them with the magical moments that still made his breath catch in his throat. And in that way, Logan was still a part of his life. Through retelling the story he could take a third person view of his pain and work through it healthily and at his own pace. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that it was him stood here and not Lucas. Him who had surprised him with a grand romantic gesture. Him who was leading him towards the table, fingers entwined. He blinked, and then felt immensely guilty that was using Lucas. Wasn't appreciating him. Again.

Logan. He couldn't pretend he had forgotten about him. Although he did check his social media less frequently than he once had. Although this was majorly helped by the fact that Logan rarely posted anything anymore. He had changed his profile picture to a photo of him and Aiden, laughing together. This surprised Alex. Aiden had been one of Chris's little cronies. What had happened that suddenly Logan and Aiden were friends? Or maybe even more than friends?

He had met someone, so it's possible. He hadn't intended to, but Lucas had started working at the bookshop and before he knew it he was kissing him right there as they locked up one night. And he kissed him back, his body responding to a need he didn't know he had. But he knew he didn't love Lucas, and that Lucas loved him or at least was on the way. He should end things. But... not tonight. Not when he had put in so much effort for Valentine's and he had done... nothing at all.

What was he doing? Why did he keep up with this stupid break. He loved Logan, he couldn't deny it to himself. And yet, to go back now, still at the book shop, barely having done anything at all? It felt like a puppy returning with its tail between its legs. And what if Logan didn't want him back? He hadn't got in contact, hadn't messaged.

But he had been there, outside the house that Christmas Eve, a voice in his head reminded him. He wondered what would have happened if he had just called out to him that night, if he hadn't hidden behind the tree. Maybe he would have been sat across this table from him? Or maybe not?

"You're fixating on Logan... you act like your whole life revolves around him."

Megan's words floated across his mind and he sighed, closing his eyes and massaging his pounding head.

"You okay?" Lucas asked, he opened his eyes and forced a smile.

"Yeah, just a headache. It'll pass," he replied, taking Lucas's hand and squeezing it. "Thank you for doing this, it's really special."

Lucas leaned in and they shared a small kiss before he returned to the kitchen area.

And in that moment, as he sat there at the small table in the middle of the flat, he knew how he wanted the story to end. Happy endings are after all, as Helena had reminded him, were what the reader wants. Even if they're not reality.

Later that night, as he lay awake, Lucas snoring softly beside him he whispered, "Happy Valentines Logan."

* * *

Logan: 22nd May

He had finished his last exam. His university degree was done. It was a surreal feeling.

He was headed to the train station for a night out back at home with Aiden and Ben, partly as a celebration for finishing Uni and partly a belated get together for Ben's birthday the week before that he had missed because of exam cramming, at Ben's insistance.

The train didn't take long, and then he was there laughing and celebrating. It was a great night. Ben had brought along some other friends that Logan hadn't met before who were both attractive and had great banter.

One of them, his name was Harley, was tee total and offered to drive the group into the nearby city, where they went into the big nightclubs.

Logan bought round after round, and he drank the rounds from the others too and very soon the room was throbbing and swaying delightfully to the pounding music. He hadn't been this drunk since Christmas Eve, but this drunk felt different. He was happy and arm in arm with friends. They were there until the lights came up, blinking as they saw each other in the harsh lights, roaring in pleasure as Ben was busted making out with a busty brunette chick, they both grinned guiltily and disappeared off into the night.

Harley offered to drop Aiden and Logan home, swinging by Aiden's first so that it was just him in the car beside him.

"Thanks again for the lift man," he said as he recognised his street, the car pulling to a stop at the end of the drive.

"You gunna be alright getting to your front door?" He grinned and Logan chuckled.

"I guess we shall find out," he replied. After struggling with the door for a moment he stumbled out the car and up the drive.

But when he got to the front door he swayed, searching his pockets for his keys. Eventually he found them, but dropped them twice whilst searching for the door key on the full ring. Harley came up the path behind him giving him a pitiful look, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

He picked up the keys from the floor and Logan gave him a drinken grin, leaning slightly on the wall as he extended his hand.

"Th-thank you," he hiccuped.

"What do I get if I give you these?"

He frowned, "what do you-?"

"Get? Come on, I'd be a fool not to make some sort of bargain. Not often I get a cute guy like you in such a bind."

"You're gay?" Logan asked genuinely surprised.

"Yes, and I could spot you a mile away. Checking out the guys all night, weren't you?"

Logan had been looking. Not with any intentions but, looking all the same at the cute guys around. Harley was an attractive guy, a little shorter than him, but broad with a strong jaw and bright confident eyes. He felt a little thrill of excitement, then stumbled into the wall slightly again. Harley stepped forward putting a hand on his arm to help steady him. But once he was still he didn't remove it, instead he stepped a little closer, tracing a finger across his chest.

"So, what do I get Logan? For the keys?"

"What do you want?" He asked, feeling his heart pick up pace.

"I guess just a kiss... for now."

Logan smiled, he could do that. He closed the gap and lifted a hand to Hsrley's face, feeling the rough brush of stubble against his palm. Then, closing his eyes, he kissed him. His lips were chapped and firm, but good. It felt good to kiss him. He stepped in closer and he felt Harley's hands on his body, hard, his fingers digging in. It was so unlike anyone he had kissed before, not like the girls, not like...

The thought of Alex made him hesitate in the kiss, pulling away only a centimetre and breathing gently. His chest hurt a little at the memory of Alex being in his arms like this.

"You ok?" Harley whispered.

It was stupid to still be hung up on Alex. It had been almost six months since he had walked away. He pushed the memories to the back of his mind.

He didn't bother replying, but instead kissed him more insistently, his tongue brushing against his playfully. He felt rather than heard Harley's moan of pleasure.

It was that exact moment, that it all went wrong. Right then, that the happy little bubble he had created popped like a bubble, and pure terror turned his blood cold.

The door had been wrenched open, and his father was glaring at him with an expression of utmost loathing and disgust.

His father once could have been a handsome guy, and in fact still could have been. His eyes, like Logan's in shape and colour, were dark and angry most of the time. No laughter lines could be found on his face, only his strong features and thick hair that was speckled with greys. He was lean and fit, surprisingly strong for an older man and was eye to eye in height.

Logan was frozen by those eyes, and so it seemed was his father, as he stood speechless and shaking in rage.

"Leave," his father growled to Harley without even looking at him.

Logan was aware how suddenly he felt entirely sober. The fear burning the alcohol away in his veins. Harley looked from him to his dad, concern in his face, clearly unsure whether he should leave.

"Go, just... go," Logan said as calmly and softly as he could, and then flashed him a firm look when he still didn't move. Harley looked again from me to his Father and then nodded, running off down the path back to his car.

"In. Now," Dad said. With a heavy breath, he walked in to the living room. Logan followed slowly, closing the door behind him and turning towards him, heart racing.

So it had finally arrived. The truth was coming out at last. At least it would finally be out in the open.

He thought it would start with a question or a conversation at least, so he was caught off guard when the smack came. Fierce and firm it whipped across his cheek like a flame, causing him to stumble back into the arm of the sofa. He had flashes of his childhood, when his father had punished him. He remembered going hungry for a week, only living on school lunches, or when he had been locked in his bedroom for an entire weekend, screaming and begging to be let out, but only being allowed out for toilet breaks. Or when his Dad had spanked him, or slapped him, or beaten him with...

He was pulled from his reverie from his face, inches from Logan's as he pulled him close, gripping the front of his shirt, pointing a finger in his face, spit landing on his cheeks.

"You dare, you DARE! On my front doorstep!"his father roared as he looked down at him. Maybe it was the pain or the last dregs of alcohol that gave him the courage but today Logan wasn't going to take it lying down, whatever the punishment may be.

"Yeah I dare. I like guys Dad, I've liked them for a long time you just never fucking knew because I knew you'd react like this."

His father shook his head, "You are disgusting, I thought we had raised you better than this."

"Better than what? Better than being gay?" Logan almost laughed, "What's so bad about being gay Dad? Why can't you just be happy for me?"

His father stared at him with a rage like no other.

"Happy for you? For ruining your life? You make me sick."

"Yeah well I know the feeling," he said as he glared at his father. They were head to head, and now Logan was tall enough to look him in the eye. No longer was he the scared little kid his dad could push around.

"Get out my house."

Logan felt his composure slip for a moment, his eyebrows raising in shock, he said nothing, just glaring at him in fury. He hated this man with every bone in his body.

"Honey?" His mother's voice came from the hall.

"Out. Get out. Now," he spat.

"No," Logan growled.

"Logan? Steven?" His mother said as she came through the living room door hesitantly, "What's going-"

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!"

He shoved Logan so hard he fell to the floor, crawling backwards instinctively from his fathers fury. He backed up and moved towards the door, gesturing for his mother to move away from him as his father followed him still yelling.

"GET OUT. YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE. I DONT WANT TO SEE YOU, I DONT WANT TO LOOK AT YOU. I AM REPULSED BY YOU."

Logan had backed away all the way to the front door, and stood there, his hand on the handle. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders as he looked back at his father waiting for him to finally take a breath. When he paused, his face red and blotchy, Logan spoke in a calm and soft voice.

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you, but I am gay. It's not going to change. I hope one day that you will come to me with an apology." He opened the door and turned back to his father, who seemed stunned by his calm response. "Not that I will accept it, but it will show me you have finally fucking grown up. You are a hateful, abusive asshole. Oh and by the way, I hate business. I was never going to be the progidy son you dreamed of. Thank the fucking Lord. Goodbye Dad."

He glanced over his shoulder at his mother who stood white faced in the living room door. They exchanged a lot in that look, an understanding, pity, a promise. Then, he turned away and walked from the house.

He turned onto the pathway still feeling their eyes on his back. He kept walking, determined not to let him see any sign of weakness. It was only when he was out of eyeshot of the house that he realised that his entire body was shaking violently. He couldn't quite believe what had happened. With shaking fingers he pulled out his phone, and opened up his contacts and hesitated. Who would he even call? He felt tears begin to fall, and his throat tightened with agonising emotion as the truth of what had just happened truly began to sink in. He had been thrown out by his own father. Disowned.

"You are no son of mine."

The words echoed again and agian through his brain, faster and faster until he felt dizzy. His breath was coming thick and fast and he thought that maybe he was having a panic attack. He braced a hand against the wall to steady himself as the nausea and alcohol induced light headedness began to seep back in. He looked back down at his phone, open on his contacts.

He could call Aiden. Or Megan. But they would both ask if he was ok and what had happened, and he didn't think he had the strength to explain to them. He needed someone who would just know. Who always knew what he needed. Someone who when he spoke to them he felt like he was speaking only to himself. Besides they wouldn't understand. Not truly. Neither of them were gay. Neither of them truly knew how it felt to be cast out like this for their sexuality. But there was someone who did.

There was only one person he could call. Despite all this time, it didn't feel strange as he scrolled to the name, gazing at it. The letters alone beginning to calm him. He took a deep breath and dialled.

* * *

Alex: 23rd May

The jarring ring of the phone was what startled Alex awake. He turned bleary eyed to check his digital watch that sat on his bedside table, the blueish light glowing in the dark room. It was late, just gone 3am in the morning.

He reached sleepily for his phone, pulling it from its charger and bringing the screen close to his face to see the name written across it.

He sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake. He blinked a few times, checking that this wasn't just a trick of the light or maybe even a dream. But there clear as day, was the name. Logan.