As we fall apart

Out of Control ~ May 2014

He navigated his way to his mum's contact on autopilot, feeling like he was floating outside of his own body as he told her what had happened. It was as if they were reading a script to each other, like she'd seen this coming and had always had a response in her back pocket.

He felt sick as he asked her to ignore the press if they turned up at her house the next morning. He swallowed harshly when she promised him everything would be okay in the end. And then...

"How's Stephen?"

Dec was surprised when the sigh he let out shuddered so much, hunching into himself as he held the phone tightly to his ear. The familiarity of home made him want to go back there until all of this magically disappeared. He wanted to go back to being some anonymous Geordie who could do whatever he wanted without anyone turning their head.

"You have talked to him, Declan?"

"Course I have," he mumbled, scraping furiously at a tear that dripped from one eye, only to feel more replace it. The phone call had stirred up unwanted thoughts; imagined realities where he hadn't told her yet or she already knew and had dealt with it badly. And that had only brought back Stephen and everything he was still going through.

"And have you talked about the rest of it?" She asked patiently. He hadn't told her a lot, beyond the fact that they weren't together and that it had been a little messy. She'd seemed so surprised that he wasn't sure she'd believed him at first.

"Haven't exactly had time," he said eventually, covering his eyes with his spare hand and trying to get himself under control. He was shaking involuntarily, everything trembling as he curled in on himself. He didn't know what he'd do if someone walked in - he'd just found the nearest empty room and sat himself down in there.

"How do you feel about it?" She kept the question ambiguous, letting him decide whether she meant the news story or the break-up.

"I don't know – worried, frustrated, scared," he said, knowing that answer satisfied both possibilities. "I don't get why anyone cares. I hadn't got round to telling everyone I wanted to yet – I didn't want them finding out second-hand like this. And Stephen – he's not okay. I don't know how to make him okay." He heard the strength in his voice becoming more and more drained as he spoke until every word was fragile.

"I'll handle the family," she replied firmly, "And if anyone takes issue with it, I'll keep them well off your back. You've got enough to deal with as it is. As for Stephen, I think you know what you want and you're going to have to talk to him for that to happen."

"He doesn't want to explain himself." Dec could hear the weak excuse in his own voice, hiding the real reason. "I'm scared he'll say something I can't - can't forgive him for."

"And do you believe Stephen would do that to you?"

"No – I don't know," he said, his head hurting with everything. It was late, it had been a long day, he wanted to go to bed and forget it all. But he couldn't leave this list of problems for himself to deal with in the morning. He needed to take advantage of the privacy whilst they still had it. "I just feel like if I don't fix it now and if everyone knows we're not together anymore, we're never going to get that back. But I don't want to mess it up."

"If you know what you want, you won't mess it up," she said wisely, "Now you go and talk to him. I'll call you – or Ant – whoever's around tomorrow and check in."

"Just ignore the press, alright?" Dec said, knowing he'd already told her once but worrying over it anyway. "Don't give them what they want. I'd do anything to try and keep them off your back if I could..."

"You can't help what's happened, Declan. It's not your fault."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said resignedly, "Ant'll probably call you anyway so you can have one of those chats behind my back."