Workplace Issues

2 - Hiding Again In a Shell of My Own Making

After what seemed like an eternity of takes and retakes, the skit finally wrapped.

The crew erupted into applause, and Damien felt a wave of sweet relief wash over him. He had made it through unscathed and despite being in a slight bit of pain from having to do a million crouches with a body that was already under strain, he was pleased with the overall product. That mean that after the editors were done with it, hopefully their fans would be as well.

As they began to break down the set and put away their equipment, Damien took the opportunity to slip away from the others and head back to the dressing room alone, collapsing onto a chair and undoing the pants and shirt that were strangling him. Of course, he hissed when taking in the deep red lines crosscrossing his abdomen as his back ached from the effort of holding himself together, but that was all part of performing.

He would be grateful when he got home and could just take most of his clothes off.

Suddenly, unlike before, he heard footsteps approaching the dressing room, and his heart skipped a beat as the doorknob was being jiggled. Quickly putting his clothes back on at a speed that was almost akin to before he was...well, expecting, Damien pretended to be scrolling on his phone as the door finally openied.

It was Shayne, his face creased with concern. "Hey, There you are. Thought you'd gone home. Courtney was looking to invite you over for dinner tomorrow night."

Damien swallowed. There's that stab of guilt again. "Oh man, wish i could, but I gotta stream. Haven't streamed good in well over a month adn I've had DM's."

Shayne and him both laughed, thankfully, but then that look is back again on the latter's face and it takes all of Daimen's being not to call it out. "Not that I should be asking, but dude, are you okay? You looked a little off out there."

Damien forced a smile, trying to play it cool. "I'm fine, man. Just a little tired, that's all. You know how it is." Shayne studied him for a moment, but eventually nodded and sat down beside him. "Yeah, I get it. We've all been working our asses off lately."

"Yeah, I know right." He tried not to move away as Shayne approached, hiding a grimace as Shayne got close to him like he normally did. When they had been hooking up, it had been welcomed, but now in the face of all of this, it was different. He hoped Shayne didn't notice.

However, it seemed Shayne could still read him like a book, sensing something off about him and after a while, he nudged him gently with his elbow. "Hey, man, you know we're here for you, right? Whatever you need, we'll help you through it."

Damien looked up at that, meeting his eyes. There was genuine concern there, and a hint of something else that Damien couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was understanding, or maybe it was just friendship, or something completely stupid on his part that he wasn't exactly dialed in enough to read into at the moment.

Either way, he made him hate himself more - not that Shayne knew that. Instead, he forced a small laugh. "Thanks, Shay. I appreciate that. I'll be okay, I promise."

They sat together for a few more moments, before Damien finally stood up and stretched, trying not to draw attention to his midsection as he did. "Well, I'm beat. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then, I'm going to head for home."

"Not staying for an after work La Croix?" Shayne joked, making him unable to not smile at him as he did so. "Nah, man. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, man. I'll tell Court you couldn't make it." He heard Shayne's words at he wandered off down the hall and out the door, but they didn't truly hit him until he was washing his hands and oh fuck, the guilt was back again, burning and aching more than his back ever could now.

There's still noise around him from the conversations outside, but it's blurred so bad that he can't make out what people are saying aqs he's suddenly leaning against the sink, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. There was already a slip up today, how many more would there be till he couldn't hide anymore?

As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he realized that he needed help. He needed someone to talk to, someone who could understand what he was going through and offer some advice. But who could he trust? His agent? His friends? They all had their own agendas, their own priorities. He didn't know who to turn to.

With a sigh, he splashed water on his face and straightened his beanie as he left the bathroom and beelined straight for the carpark. There was nothing more he could do here, at least, nothing that would help the storm inside him get any better.

He knew that the next few weeks would be crucial. He had to figure out a plan and he had to do it fast, before the truth came out and everything fell apart.