This story contains sexual situations between two males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
I was dealing with a couple of mixed emotions on my cab ride back to Grand Apartments. On one hand, I felt surprise and joy at Ty having mouthed `I love you' as he walked through the runway door at the airport, but sadness at the thought that we were suddenly apart.
And when I wasn't feeling surprise and joy, or sadness, I was feeling stupid for stressing about it. His work was taking him to Sydney and shortly, my work would be taking me home to Melbourne.
And before long, he'd be in Melbourne on tour and I'd see him again. Feel his lips against mine. Slip my hand down the front of his pants ...
Come on Michael, get a grip. You've only known him, what, a few days? Correct.
Yeah, but what a fucking mind-blowing few days. I was only five minutes from the airport and already I wanted to stroke his face, feel his hair, look into his eyes, hear his voice, lick his ballbag.
My cab came to a halt outside Grand Apartment and dear George was there opening the door before I'd even paid the driver.
"Good evening Mr Stewart," he said.
"Hi George," I absent-mindedly replied.
"Everything alright, sir?"
"Yes George, of course," I replied.
"You don't seem your normal self, sir, if I might say so."
"You're amazing, George," I smiled. "Just had to play out a goodbye scene and to borrow an expression I only learned the other day, I think I've `cracked the sads'."
"Was it a temporary goodbye scene, sir," George smiled back, "or a permanent one? If you don't mind my asking?"
"A temporary one, George," I replied, before adding, "I hope."
"Well then enjoy the anticipation, and keep the flame burning," George smiled. "As Mr Hill might say, keep it `deep inside of you'."
I grinned at his reference to the title of Ty's latest single, "Deep Inside Of You". I pinched him on the cheek. "You're the man, George," I smiled before taking the lift to the top floor.
I tried not to think about it, but I eventually acknowledged to myself that my apartment felt empty without Ty, even though he hadn't really spent a lot of time in it. I was conscious of the fact he wasn't soon going to walk through my door and light up my day. Stupid really.
I sat and watched something mindless TV for a while and then went to bed. The next morning I woke early and caught the start of `The Morning Show', which opened with the big build for Ty's upcoming interview and performance. I knew they'd string it out as long as possible to keep viewers tuned in, so I put on some coffee, had a quick shower and shave, and threw on some running shorts and shoes.
I chopped some fruit, made some toast, poured the coffee and plonked in front of the TV, just in time for the start of Ty's segment. He was introduced by the pretty female co-host of the program, who did the big gush. The camera hit Ty and he looked, as I expected, jaw-droppingly gorgeous. He was wearing my grey and pink punk tee-shirt, which I'd thrown to him when we'd sunbathed on my balcony and I thought his shoulders might be burning. I felt a surge of happiness in my chest, and inside my running shorts as well.
The interviewer rattled through all the usual questions about his album, the tour and the fans, before asking him if there was anyone special in his life?
If Ty was thrown by the question, he didn't show it. "I don't discuss my private life," he responded politely. "But I can say I'm very happy with the way my life is right now." He took the opportunity to get the interview back on track by saying he's happy that "Deep Inside Of You" is the new single. There followed a good plug for the song and a grab of the film-clip before the host threw to Ty coming up later to perform the song live.
It was another four ad breaks before they were back with the male host introducing Ty, who was sitting on a stool on the set looking bemused. It was a few seconds before the host realized that Ty didn't have a microphone. Nervous mirth ensured and when the camera returned to Ty, he said "I'm kinda lost without my Mike!". God I love this guy.
Ty's performance was faultless, and I'd like to shake the hand of the director who had the cameramen shoot it so well. When I wasn't wanting to lick the TV screen during the close-ups of Ty's face, I was thinking how good this was going to be for sales of the record.
After Ty took his applause to the break, I switched the television off, and suddenly didn't feel like my regular morning run. I felt sad again. I was back to wanting stroke his face, feel his hair, look into his eyes, hear his voice, lick his ballbag. Not just wanting to; needing to.
I pretty much spent the rest of the day sprawled on the sofa, intermittently feeling sorry for myself and then feeling grateful for everything that had come my way. When evening rolled around, I made some more toast. Drank some beer. Had a soak in the tub. Slept.
The next day was worse. I hadn't heard from Ty, and I was annoyed at myself for expecting that of him. And I wanted to call him but didn't because I knew he had to be focused on tour rehearsals. So I just spent the day slothing around the apartment, unshaved, plugging the gaps with mindless things like TV game shows, online Solitaire and the crosswords in the newspapers. I thought a wank might help, but it didn't.
I snacked through the day but hadn't actually had a meal, and my stomach was just starting to let me know that when the doorbell rang. I was suddenly aware of how un-fresh I probably looked.
I was relieved yet surprised to see George, who walked in carrying a bag of Chinese takeout.
"I didn't order anything George," I said.
"No, you didn't Mr Stewart," he replied. "But that doesn't mean you don't need to eat. These are some Asian greens and a stir-fry mixed vegetable dish, sir. You should enjoy them."
George, as always, went to the kitchen and returned with crockery and cutlery, set a place at the table, served the food and poured a wine.
As I thanked him and tried to pay him, he refused. "Please Mr Stewart," he said graciously, "the vegetables are on me. And once you've had a good meal, you might feel like a shower and a shave. And then you can look forward to being back in Melbourne and catching Mr Hill's concert there."
It was George's second indication that he knew about Ty and me, and I was touched. I put my hand on his shoulder. "I love you, George," I smirked. "If you were a hundred years younger, I can think of a certain rock star who might feel a little threatened!"
George seemed delightfully flustered. "Save your love for the rock star," he said. "It'll be some years before he needs a hip replacement."
I didn't quite get the reference, but I laughed and rubbed his balding head as I saw him out the door. While the Asian greens were delicious, they made me think of Ty again, and his earlier life on the farm, being made to eat homegrown green vegetables.
Perhaps with some divine intervention, my mobile rang. It was Ty! We chatted excitedly, babbling on and clearly glad to hear each other's voices. Ty was about to start rehearsals for the tour, and wasn't looking forward to all the travel involved in taking his show from city to city. It felt so good to hear him say the thing that was keeping him going was ending the tour in Melbourne, and seeing me again.
I was suddenly feeling good again, and resolved to enjoy the last few days of my Coolangatta break. I returned to my regimen of running every morning, and hitting the gym and pool in the afternoon.
On the Friday before I was to leave on Sunday, I spoke to George in the lobby and asked if he might be able to arrange some dry cleaning for me the next day. George explained that Saturday was his day off, but he could have them express cleaned today. He returned to the apartment with me and waited while I threw together a bundle of clothes that needed pressing. As I handed them to him I was struck by a thought.
"What are your plans for your day off, George?"
"I don't have any, Mr Stewart," he replied. "I'll just be at home puddling around."
"Would you like to come and have lunch with me here?"
"Me, sir?" he asked. "Really?"
"Yes, really George," I grinned. "I'd like that. To say thanks for looking after me so well. Let's say 1pm?"
"I would very much enjoy that sir," he beamed. "Can I bring something?"
"Just bring yourself, George," I said. "And between now and then, practise calling me Mike!"
I went through my usual routine on Saturday, only I skipped the gym in favor of a walk to the local markets to buy what I needed for lunch. It was another spectacular sunny Queensland day and I was looking forward to having George as my guest. He'd been so helpful every time I visited Grand Apartments, where he'd spent countless years as the faithful doorman and concierge.
I settled on braised lamb shanks, and worked my way around the stalls picking out shanks, onions, garlic, celery, rosemary, tomatoes, beef stock, flour and olive oil. To save time, I bought a home made sticky date pudding and some ice cream. My last stop was the bottle shop where I picked up a bottle of good red wine.
The preparations took a while but by midday, the shanks were braising nicely and the apartment was filled with hunger-inducing aromas. I sat on the balcony in the sun with a beer until the doorbell rang at exactly 1pm. As I knew it would. George was always punctual.
Having only ever seen him in his official "Grand" uniform, I was surprised by how different George looked in casual slacks, shirt and pullover. He walked in with a bottle of Pinot Noir, and out of habit went to open it and pour. I stopped him.
"You're the guest this time, George," I smiled, thanking him for the bottle and pouring us a glass each.
"Thank you sir," he said.
"Sir?"
"Thank you ... Michael," he managed.
"If Michael's the best you can do, then Michael it is!"
Our chat as I dished the meal was relaxed and casual, and George was very complimentary about my cooking. Over lunch, I decided to open up a little to this lovely man who'd been so helpful to me for so long. I felt I could trust him implicitly and I knew he'd sussed out there was more between me and Ty than just friendship.
I filled him in on the detail of my break-up with Aaron and the pain that had caused me, and then told him the whole story of how I came to meet Ty, and what an unexpected turn of events had ensued.
"If I may say so, Michael," George said at one point, "you and Mr Hill seem to be perfectly suited."
"You reckon, George?"
"You're both so happy around one another. I can tell from his eyes that he cares for you a great deal."
I went on to recount the caution we'd had from Vince about any hint of a male relationship getting out, and my one nagging fear that it was putting pressure on Ty. I surprised myself by sharing with George something that had been on my mind for a while now; should I take a backward step for the sake of Ty's career?
George was pensive before answering. "Michael, I was once in a similar situation myself, many years ago," he said. "I met an actor in Sydney in the 1950s and we fell in love. He too had to keep up a front because in those days, a gay leading man just couldn't get work. All the sneaking around and secrecy finally got the better of me, and I took that backward step. It's not what either of us wanted, and it broke my heart when he finally moved to Hollywood and became a big star. I still feel sad even today when I read about him in the magazines."
"Really George?" I asked, amazed. "Who is he?"
"I really couldn't say, Michael," was George's response. Always the soul of discretion. It reinforced my belief that details of my own personal life were very safe with him.
As lunch came to an end, George leaned across the table and said to me quietly, "My advice Michael is to grab happiness when it comes along, and do whatever has to be done to preserve it. You love Mr Hill and he obviously loves you. Does anything else really matter?"
"No, it doesn't, George," I smiled. I reached across and took George's face in my hands, and clearly surprised him by giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you George. You're a good man, and I'm sorry things turned out the way they did for you. Was there anyone else?"
"No Michael," he replied softly. "I never did quite get over him. Don't let that happen to you."
When it was time for George to leave, I noticed for the first time a slight limp. "Have you hurt your foot George?" I asked.
"No Michael, I had a fall a few weeks ago at home and I've damaged my hip. I'm told it needs replacing."
"When are you having the operation?"
"I need to somehow save the money to pay for it so it's likely to be quite a long way off. It's not too bad though. Things could be worse."
At the door I gave George a hug and thanked him for looking after me during my stay. He thanked me for lunch before shuffling off to the lift.
On Sunday morning, I went for a run and enjoyed a leisurely seaside breakfast, before returning to the apartment and packing my bags. I went to the lobby to say goodbye to George and organize a cab to the airport, but George was nowhere to be seen.
I settled my account, asked the receptionist to pass on my farewell to George, and less than four hours later, I was back to Melbourne's much cooler climate, and my own apartment.
After unpacking, I spent the evening checking my work emails to see what might be in store for me at the office the following day. I scrolled through all the work-related correspondence as Ty's `Love On The Rocks' album played in the background.
Monday morning rolled around all too soon and I hit the ground running. I was immediately thrown into a royalty dispute between a major record company and an electronic duo. It involved a lot of intense research and late nights, which was just as well because it took my mind off missing Ty.
We talked every day, and texted back and forth often. A few days later, Ty's national tour kicked off and I anxiously read the online review of the first concert in Sydney. This was Ty with a full band and I knew he was nervous. He needn't have worried; the critics raved. The tour moved on to Newcastle, Canberra, Brisbane, Cairns, Townsville, Perth and Adelaide, and from talking with him by phone I could tell his confidence was growing with each show.
Finally, the tour was headed for Melbourne, the last stop, and Ty was to play two nights at the Regent Theatre. We were both ecstatic to learn that his arrival in Melbourne was preceded by "Deep Inside Of You" reaching Number One. That was three chart-toppers in a row!
Two days before the first show, I had a call from Vince. He confided that Ty has been "moping" a bit, and couldn't wait to see me.
"You two are gonna be in faggot heaven," he laughed.
Vince asked me how many tickets I wanted for the shows and I told him I only wanted one. I wanted to savour this experience all by myself. He told me that Ty was able to talk his folks into letting Scott fly to Melbourne for the final two shows of the tour, and then to stay on for a short break. Scott would be at the concert, but was going to be assisting Vince backstage.
The main purpose of Vince's call was to make me aware that because the single was at Number One, Ty would have back-to-back media commitments as soon as he arrived in Melbourne, so it was unlikely we'd be able to get together until after the first show. I told him that was fine by me, and he explained he'd booked a hotel suite for Ty at the Hyatt, one with an adjoining door through to the next bedroom. That way, Ty would be seen to have his own room with his lawyer in the room next door, and tongues wouldn't wag. Good old Vince, always taking care of business!
Concert day finally rolled around and I felt a real sense of excitement. I left work early, went home and packed my bag, had a quick meal and headed off to see my guy strut his stuff on stage.
The venue was packed to capacity and there was audible buzz throughout the auditorium as the house lights went down. Ty's band strolled on stage to cheers and applause, and took their places. I was waiting for the big announcement, but none came. Without warning, Ty was caught in a spotlight as he casually strolled on from the wings; I should have known he'd take the `no frills' approach.
The audience erupted as he kicked off the show with "Deep Inside Of You" and then worked his way through his whole album and several tracks already recorded for album number two. He surprised everyone by ending the show with a cover of Leonard Cohen's magnificent "Hallelujah". His band was in darkness as Ty stood centre stage in a pin spot with just his acoustic guitar, and he literally let rip with a spine-chilling interpretation. I was gob-smacked; that Ty was a great singer was a given, but even I didn't realize he was capable of such simple brilliance. His crystal-clear voice sounded like a bell, with balls.
When the song finished, the stage fell black and a few moments passed before the stunned audience started to cheer. When the lights came back on, the stage was bare. Two of three minutes of the audience chanting "we want more!" were answered when Ty and the band ran back on and launched into "Love On The Rocks". The whole audience – already on its feet – was stamping, cheering, and singing along.
This time when they left the stage, the house lights came up. It was the end of the show and people slowly started making their way to the exits, many of them chatting excitedly about the show, and about my guy. I stayed in my seat soaking up the excitement until the theatre had almost emptied, and then made my way to the stage door.
My name was "on the door", and a security guy directed me through a maze of corridors to backstage and the dressing rooms. I was walking quickly, anxious to see Ty and to congratulate him on the show and the success of the tour.
I was about to turn into the corridor leading to the dressing rooms when I heard Ty's voice. "Man, fuck me! You're back. I can't believe it. I cannot fucking believe it!"
I stopped in my tracks, uncertain of what I was hearing. I slipped into an alcove and looked around the corner, to see Ty standing in the corridor outside his dressing room, talking to a well-built guy a little taller than him. Ty had his arms around the guy and appeared to be hugging the life out of him, and they were ruffling each other's hair, and slapping each other on the back.
"I told you I'd come back to you, Ty," the other guy said. "I've thought of you every day. Every single day."
"Mate, this is the best thing that's happened to me all year. You'll never know how much I've missed you, and you'll never know how much I love you."
"Oh yeah, I do Ty. And I love you too. And man, I hear things are really happy in your life since your trip to the Gold Coast?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Ty, dismissively. "I promise you mate, nothing has ever made me happier than having you back in my life. When you left I really thought I was never gonna see you again and here you are!"
I felt numb, almost disoriented. I felt like I was either going to faint or throw up. I couldn't breathe, and all I wanted was air. As I turned to run, the last thing I saw was Ty kissing the guy, saying over and over, "I love you, man."
I stumbled back the way I came, desperate for air and needing to be as far away from the theatre - and Ty - as I could be. I found my way back to my car in an almost empty car park, jumped in and started the engine. I cursed when the radio came on, playing "Deep Inside On You". I banged the `off' button, slammed my fist into the dashboard and drove off. How I got home to my apartment, I'll never know. It's hard to drive when your eyes are full of tears. Me, who hasn't shed a tear in years, blubbering like a baby.
I pulled into the basement of my block, grabbed my bags and took the lift to my apartment. I slammed the door shut, dropped by bags and fell onto a sofa.
I put my head in my hands and immediately, it all came pouring out. The anger, the denial and the self- pity. Christ, it had happened to me again. Memories of my break-up with Aaron came flooding back, along with a reminder that I'd promised myself then that I wouldn't let it happen again.
But it had. I'd given my heart away and had it stepped on by another asshole. I couldn't believe Ty could do this to me, or that what we'd shared meant so little to him. Stupidly, I thought I just might have been Ty's "Mr Right", but obviously I was "Mr Right Now" as he waited for Mr. Right to come back.
How long I sobbed, I don't know, but all the while, my mobile rang and rang. It was long after I'd been expected backstage so I guess I was officially "missing". Well, fuck Tyson Hill. Fuck `em all. I'd get over it, eventually. I'd survive. I always do. And hopefully I'd learn something from it this time.
I was rational enough to realize I was in shock, as I sat and gazed into space until I reached the stage where I didn't want to think anymore. I wanted my mind to shut down. Before turning it off, I checked my phone quickly. Seven missed calls from Ty, four from Vince and two from Scott.
With no idea of what time it was, I stumbled into my bathroom, took an emergency sleeping pill from the cabinet, kicked off my shoes and fell on my bed. I wanted sleep to smother me, and it did.
I woke feeling like the wrath of God and just lay for a few moments, before rolling to my other side in the hope of fading to black again. As I did, my eyes glanced at my alarm. Fuck! 8:50am, and I had a 9.30 meeting. Much as I wanted to phone in sick, it was a meeting I couldn't miss. I jumped up, ripped my clothes off and had a quick shower, then threw on a shirt, tie and suit and raced out the door. No time to shave, no time to wash my hair. I knew I looked like shit, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I got to the office, made my apologies and went straight into my meeting. There were a couple of comments about my appearance which I dismissed with the lame excuse of having overslept. The meeting went well, which was a blessing, and I jumped straight from that into a client briefing.
Ty, and how he'd hurt me were very much on my mind, but the rigors of the work day thankfully meant I had little time to dwell on them. Back in my office early afternoon, our receptionist buzzed me to tell me someone was waiting in reception to see me.
"Who?" I asked cautiously, even though I was sure I'd never mentioned to Ty or to Vince the name of the law firm I was with.
"Scott Hill," she replied. Of course; I'd told Scott about the company when we had the poolside discussion about what my job entailed, before he'd quickly realized I might be able to help his fucker of a brother get more bucks. Fucker of a brother? Hmmm, seems like a bit of the anger was coming back, which I reasoned was possibly a good thing.
"I can't see him," I said, wondering why I was suddenly whispering. I hung up and a few seconds later, it rang again.
"He says that's OK, but he's prepared to wait all day if he has to. He's going to sit in reception until you can spare him a couple of minutes."
"Shit," I replied. He had me cornered. To get to the lifts, I had to walk through reception. And I wouldn't be able to work knowing he was out there, waiting. May as well get it over with now. Fuck.
"Show him in, Lyn," I sighed, and hung up.
There was a short knock on my door before Lyn opened it and ushered Scott in. "Anyone like some coffee?" she asked helpfully, and I wanted to throw a stapler at her.
Before Scott could answer, I said, "No thanks Lyn, this is going to be brief."
As she closed the door, Scott looked at me in bewilderment, arms out to his sides, and said, "What the fuck, Mike? Where were you last night?"
"I had to leave," I said lamely.
"You didn't take anyone's calls. Ty's beside himself. He thinks something's happened to you."
"Something has happened to me Scott, and now I have just have to get on with my life. Queensland was Queensland, but I'm back in the real world now."
"But what about Ty?"
"What about Ty?" I snapped.
"I know, by the way," he said.
"You know what?"
"I know you and Ty fell for each other big time. I knew you would. That's why I pushed the two of you together, because Ty was never going to find the perfect guy by himself. What's he done to deserve this?"
"What's HE done?" I seethed, my voice cracking with anger. "What did I do to deserve being cheated on?"
"WHAT?" Scott almost yelled. "Ty wouldn't cheat on you. Are you insane?"
"He used me Scott," I said between gritted teeth. "He's a fucking asshole."
"Hey, that's my brother you're talking about Mike," Scott snapped. "I know my brother and he would never do anything to hurt anyone. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I saw it with my own eyes Scott," I replied. "He and the guy with the stupid crew cut. He was all over him like a rash. Hugging, kissing. Lots of `I love yous'. So the fill-in has served his purpose."
Scott was looking at me with his mouth open, stunned. "You have to be fucking kidding me?"
"I told you. I saw it. And I think you should leave, Scott."
Scott started to laugh. He was still laughing as he opened the door.
"I'm glad you think it's so fucking funny," I said, shaking. Before he closed the door behind him, I added, "I don't want to see him, Scott. It's over. Finito."
I sat down at my desk and felt like I could cry again, but I was determined not to. I stayed in my office for the rest of the afternoon, got some takeaway food and some beer on my way home, and shut myself in my apartment, flicking through cable TV channels until I found a Hollywood blockbuster I could immerse myself in.
There were several more missed calls from Ty, and some from Vince, but nothing from Scott. Not that I care, I thought, as I turned the phone off.
I watched Bruce Willis and his stunt-double go through their paces, before heading to the bathroom to get rid of all the beer I'd consumed. Thankfully it had made me sleepy and after stripping off my clothes, I slid into bed and slept.
I woke the next morning and was still feeling like shit. I felt like I'd pushed aside the anger and even the self-pity, but I was still feeling hurt and disappointment. I couldn't face the office or the possibility of a return visit from Scott, so I called in sick and spent the day languishing in a darkened apartment. Again I didn't shave, just lazed around in sweat pants and a tee, eating potato chips, drinking Coke, and watching TV. If there'd been cigarettes in the apartment, I'd have smoked them. I didn't turn my phone on, and I didn't check my email.
I was just about to neck my first lager for the day and watch the 6pm news when my apartment buzzer sounded. Who the fuck? I knew it couldn't be either of the Hill brothers or Vince, so who the fuck was dropping in unannounced? Hopefully not my sister, who'd been through this with me once before when Aaron and I had split up.
I looked around the apartment and shuddered, looked in the wall mirror and cringed, and pushed the intercom. "Yeah?"
"Mike, it's Scott."
I was taken aback. "How do you know my address?"
"You told me you lived in South Yarra, opposite the biggest inner city park, and that you could always remember where you lived because you were born in 1978 and your street number was 19/78. So I just wandered the block around the park until I found an apartment block at No. 78 that had more than 19 apartments."
Fuck, this kid was a budding Sherlock Holmes. "I can't see you right now Scott, sorry," I said before taking my finger off the intercom. Immediately, the buzzer rang again.
"What?"
"That's OK Mike. But I'm just gonna sit here on the steps until you can see me."
I groaned. "There's nothing to say Scott. I told you that. I hope life's good to you mate, but this is it."
"I'm flying home tomorrow," he said. "I probably won't see you again. I'm sorry for whatever you think Ty has done to you, but you and I were friends and I just need to say goodbye."
It's true, Scott had done nothing wrong. He was a good kid. I shouldn't hold him responsible for the actions of his asshole brother. I softened. "You alone?"
"Yep".
"Lift to the fourth floor, apartment 19," I said as I buzzed the door open. I opened the curtains and did a mad scramble to hide empty crisps bags and Coke bottles before the doorbell rang. I opened it and stood back as Scott walked in.
"Shit, you look awful," he said.
"Thanks."
"Seriously man, you don't look good."
"I'll be fine," I said. "According to the doctors, it just a run-of-the-mill everyday broken heart and I'll be back to normal in no time."
"I'm really sorry, Mike," Scott said, sincerely. "I really thought it would work out between you guys. I thought it was going to be happy-ever-after."
"So did I Scott," I said from under my veil of sadness. "But for some reason, happy-ever-after keeps eluding me. But hey! The bright side is I got to meet you. I had a great time in Coolangatta and you were part of the reason for it, so no regrets there."
"Yeah, and it's home tomorrow, but I'll stay in touch every now and again," he said. "If that's OK? Maybe the occasional text or email?"
"Yeah, that'd be great. Can I give you a hug?"
"Sure," he said as he walked into my outstretched arms.
"Bye Scott, be happy," I said, as I karate-chopped my inner cry-baby.
"You too, Mike," Scott replied. "But there's just one thing I need to clear up before I go."
With that, he stepped away from me and opened my front door. To my complete shock, Ty was standing there, looking not quite as disheveled as me, but almost.
I glared at Scott. "You fucking asshole," I spat, and he just shrugged.
I look at Ty. "Ty, you really need to go. Just go. Please. I can't deal with this."
Ty help up his hand and said, "Mike, I know you don't want me here, but if you're going to shut me down, there's someone you need to meet before I can have closure on us."
I was about to push he and Scott out the door and slam it, when he turned and called out, "come on in".
Through the door walked the guy Ty had been hugging and kissing outside his dressing room. What a fucking nerve. I was stunned, looking first at Scott and then at Ty.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked, my voice shaking.
Ty ignored my question and turning to my replacement said, "Mate, this is Michael Stewart, the man I told you about. The guy I fell in love with."
Again I stared at him, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth, or to comprehend why he was putting me through this kind of humiliation.
Lover Boy stepped forward and held out his hand. I stared at it, shaking my head.
"Hello Michael," he said. "Lance Corporal Lachlan Hill".
I looked at him and had to take a few seconds to digest what he'd just said, before I was swept up in a tidal wave of déjà vu. Was this really happening to me again?
Nobody spoke for what felt like an eternity. It was me who broke the silence. I looked at Ty in shock. "Your brother??"
"Yes Mike, my brother. My brother who's in the Australian Army and who's been on the frontline in Afghanistan. My brother who I worried about every single day he was gone, praying he wouldn't die. My beautiful brother, who flew back on leave just so he could see me in concert. It was Vince's surprise. And when he turned up backstage, I couldn't wait for you to arrive and share the moment with us."
I felt like my legs were going to give way. Despite myself, my eyes welled up, and as tears started rolling down my face I put my hand over my mouth. It was hard to speak, between fingers, but I managed to sob, "Ty, I'm so sorry. I am so, so, so sorry."
I couldn't actually read him. He looked hurt, maybe just a little angry.
Again, nobody spoke until Scott piped up with, "Well aren't you girls gonna have a hug or something? That's what they do in the movies."
I felt ridiculous. I couldn't move. How the fuck could I have gotten this so wrong?
Eventually Ty moved forward, put his arms around me and squeezed. "Don't know where we go from here, Mike," he said in my ear. "I'm a bit shocked you thought so little of me. I'm only here because I need you to know – from me – that I meant it when I said I loved you. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
I needed to say something but I couldn't speak. I was numb, standing with tears rolling down my face. I was vaguely aware of a running nostril but my brain wasn't telling my hand to move. I watched as Ty's shoulders slumped slightly before he stool tall again, turned to his brothers and said, "Guess we'd better get going, guys."
Lachlan stepped forward and put his arm protectively around his older brother. I wondered vaguely whether his other arm was going to propel his fist into my face. I wished it would. I deserved it.
"I think Scotty and I'd better get going," Lachlan said. "I think you two fellas need to stay here and talk all this shit through. And you both need a bloody shower and a shave."
He looked at me. "Maybe make the shower the first thing you do?"
"I'm so sorry Lachlan," I said. "I wish I was meeting you in circumstances where I don't feel like a total fucking moron. I'm an idiot. And I'm sorry I ruined such a special moment for you and Ty."
"Nah, we're good," he said dismissively. "We're the Hill brothers, and we're as thick as thieves. Except for Scott, he's as thick as two planks."
"Hey," said Scott defensively. "I can't be that stupid if I've managed to pull off this party trick twice in a row! Let's not forget how Mike met Ty. And now Scott strikes again and it's Double Jeopardy!"
He punched the air. It was what was needed to cut the tension.
"Come on asshole," said Lachlan to Scott. "We need to be outta here before that shower starts running!"
"Can't we stay and watch `em make up and get all gooey and stuff?" Scott mock whined.
"You don't know they're gonna make up, asshole. You need to talk less."
"I'll bet you they do."
"Yeah, like you've got something to bet with? What are you gonna put up – your biology homework?"
"Well, if I'm wrong, I'll give you a hundred bucks, and I'll throw in an autographed Tyson Hill CD as well. And if I'm right, you'll talk Mum and Dad into letting me go to the Army Base in New South Wales with you, and I can shoot a machine gun and do the hand grenade thing. Pleeeeease Lachie?"
"I used to think you were gonna grow up and maybe be a writer, or work in something creative like advertising," Lachlan said, rubbing his chin. "Now I'm thinking you're gonna be a terrorist."
"Hey, terrorist is good. Two minutes ago I was an asshole!"
I appreciated the fact they were doing a little routine to not only lighten a heavy situation, but to give me time to compose myself. I had a brief moment where I felt like I was on the set of some movie, like `Sleepless In Seattle", or another of those soppy Hollywood weepies where everything starts of going pear shaped, but everyone's happy by the end of it. And there's kissing.
The only difference, I wasn't convinced this story would have a happy ending. And if it didn't, it was all my fault.
I held out my hand to Lachlan, but he brushed it aside, surprising me by embracing me in a manly hug. "Ty reckons he loves you, so that means I love you too. And before you ask, that isn't a gun in my pocket. It's one of the backstage torches!"
As we hugged, Scott started chanting quietly, "Tyson's got a boyfriend, Tyson's got a boyfriend ..."
Ty looked at him. "Asshole!"
Lachlan looked at him. "Asshole!"
I grinned at him. "Asshole."
Scott laughed. "I played matchmaker and got you guys together in the first place, and I'm an asshole? Not fair!"
Ty slapped Scott across the back of the head. "Lance Corporal Hill will escort you back to your quarters. And you're definitely under house arrest for the remainder of the evening. No mini bar, no porn."
"Yeah, and no fucking fun," Scott pouted.
"It's either my way or I tell Mum and Dad you've become a rebellious teenager and you need to spend more time on the farm."
"Shit"
"Exactly! No mini bar. No porn. But feel free to have a wank."
Ty opened the door, turned to Lachlan and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you mate," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He turned to Scott, and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you too, asshole. See you tomorrow."
And then, before they made their exit, he turned and kissed me on the lips. "I love you, too. And I promise you, there are no more Hill brothers."
I finally found my voice. "I don't deserve you Ty, but I love you. And I love your brothers. Mind you, I love them in a `you're-really-nice-guys-and-I-like-being-around-you' kind of way, whereas I love you in a way that involves full frontal nudity and male genitalia."
Lachlan rolled his eyes, placed his hands over his younger brother Scott's ears and made for the lift, saying, "Time we were going. Breakfast in the morning in the hotel restaurant. 10am. And please don't either of you limp!"
Ty closed the door and again, I could only stumble through an apology. "Ty," I began. "I really am sorry. What can I say. After what happened with Aaron, I overreacted. I couldn't go through that again, so I just shut down. I'm can't believe I put you through this."
Ty smiled. ""I understand it now, Mike," he said. "The only thing that hurts is that you'd even think I'd treat you like that. In the time we had together on the coast, I thought we got to know each other pretty well. I just wish you'd confronted me at the time and we wouldn't have had to go through this."
I felt burning shame. "I know what I've done, Ty," I said quietly. "I've always steered clear of possessive and hysterical men, the type who create a great big drama over the smallest thing, and I've just gone and fucking done it myself."
"Well, can't argue with that mate," Ty smirked. "You kinda reacted like a big girl, but I know there's a big boy inside those track pants ..."
"Time for a shower and shave?" I asked tentatively.
"Let's leave that til the morning," he grinned. "I think I'd like to get to know Unkempt Mike a whole lot better ..."
Please feel free to email me your comments. marcusis32@live.com.au