Five Stages

Five Stages: Prologue

Ian Hecox had fully convinced himself he was crazy. There was no longer any denying it. He truly believed he was 100% insane.

It was the only explanation for what his mind had for years been trying to convince him and finally once and for all accepted; that he was in love with Anthony Padilla.

His best friend.

A man.

How did this happen? He asked himself this question every day since the reality of it all finally sank in, pacing and shoving stray thoughts to the back of his mind. It was almost too much for his brain to process!

But how did the poor, confused and frustrated man reach this point and how did he overcome this shocking realization?

Has he overcome it? So many questions nestled in the back of his mind about this peculiar subject.

It's probably best to start from the beginning. No, not his birth or his first day of school, not even the first day he met his future video partner who with their cheesy but iconic parody ideas and old video camera created a global internet empire that helped shape our perception of comedy today.

None of that silliness. I'm talking of course of the day young Ian Hecox first realized he was in love with Anthony Padilla.

~

Ian slammed the stall closed so hard he almost thought it would break off its hinges. Hair ruffled and messy, sweat beaded down to his chin as his failing lungs gasped for air. His fumbling hands dug into the pocket in his shorts, digging out the only thing that saved him from one of these horrid nightmarish episodes. His body quavered and he slunk down in the stall, thankful no one else was in the boys restroom this time to catch him in such a weak and pathetic state, even if locked within the protective boundaries of the pale ivory colored stalls. His wide blue eyes looked down only for a split second as they correctly positioned the rectangular shaped object in his hand before shoving the front end in his mouth.

A hiss echoed amongst the walls of the bathroom loudly due to being the only person inside making any noise. Ian let out a sigh of relief and shut his eyes. He didn't care that the toilet he was leaning his arm against was probably germ infested to no ends; all he had now was pure relief from his suffering and just utter contentment. He let the inhaler slip from his weakened grasp and allowed it to slide to the outer part of the stall. I'll get it in a sec he lazily thought, still trying to cope recovering from another damn asthma attack. He absolutely detested using his inhaler in front of his teammates. It made him feel weak and inferior. Really, it didn't matter if he always won the gold Ian Hecox had an image to maintain. He wasn't about to let some goddamn asthma get in the way of his dream.

Ian's oceanic eyes fell onto the plastic device just a foot away outside the stall and stared in silence, listening only to his breathing and rapid heart-rate. His eyelids fell once again as the quiet hum of fluorescent lights somehow began calming his nerves. Then out of nowhere and awakening his senses he heard it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His eyes shot open and caught a small glimpse of a pair of feet approaching from under the stall. Ian lay sprawled on the floor, his arm resting still on the front of the toilet seat and he watched as the feet walked up to the door where he was, a hairy slightly tan skinned arm reaching down and taking hold of the inhaler, bringing it up out of view.

"Ian?" The walls echoed suddenly loudly. "Dude..."

Ian saw the door shake and heard its shaker sigh when it didn't budge. Ian pressed his hands on the wall and toilet and hoisted himself up, turning the lock, slowly and wordlessly revealing himself to the figure now in front of him.