Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Eighty-Eight

-Andy's POV-

I sat on the cold, hard floor, waiting for the panic to subside, but it kept coming back, again, and again, and again. Every time that I sucked in a nerve-free breath of air, my nerves recharged themselves and energized me with fear. Rye sat with his arm around me, waiting until I was ready.

For the first time, I hadn't been able to run – The realization that I would have to stay here and face whatever consequences come my way rested like a sick feeling in my stomach – I guess that I went with whatever route caused me in the most pain in the long run. Remembering that both Liv and Mikey were merely a few feet away, behind the closed door, set my body shaking again. I guessed that this was what Liv felt like when she had her panic attacks – Like your whole body was waging a war against you, in partnership with the whole rest of the world. You had no allies. It was a losing battle, hands down, but you were forced into the fight anyways.

"It's okay to be afraid, you know." Rye spoke, and if anyone knew that, it was him. And maybe it was okay for him, but not for me. I had no good reason for being such a mess – Not one that I could use, anyways.

"Did you mean to do it?" He spoke again after a moment, and I wondered if telling him would help relieve the feeling of unease that had settled itself inside of me and made itself a home. It was the feeling of not knowing if your best friend would ever want to speak to you again, and of not knowing if your band would ever be the same. It was the feeling of staring down an abyss where all of your loved ones hated you, and the thought that this would be the last time Rye would ever have his arm around you, because soon he'd see just how terrible my true intentions were. My life and the very last of my friendships would be irreparably ruined as soon as I opened my mouth in 3, 2, 1...

"I love her."

I waited for the world to end, but all I go was, "I already knew." I looked up at him, confused.

"What? How?"

"I was just waiting for you to tell me," He admitted. "I can tell by the way you look at her, and how you talk about her." He nuzzled my head. "I'm your other best friend. I know you these things."

"And you don't hate me?" I asked, and my voice came small and scared, which was exactly how I felt.

"Andy." He grabbed my hands and squeezed them. "I need you to look at me while I say this, and I want you to believe me, okay?" I reluctantly met his eyes, and he held my gaze for a second, waiting for my breathing to align with his own before he said, "I don't hate you. I could never hate you. You might hate yourself, but I don't. Because I can see what an incredible, and genuine, and caring person that you are. Don't mind Mikey, he's clearly gotten possessive, but he'll get over it. You're so much more than what's going on in here-" He tapped my forehead. "Or here-" He motioned to my dick. "Or even here." He tapped my arm, and I gave him a little smile.

"All of this, it's, it's not gonna last forever. Things change. People change, and relationships change, and this, for sure, will not last forever. Not everything's gonna hang on the shot of a bullet or a slip of the lips, and that's okay. That's a good thing. For better or for worse, feelings change, and you're not gonna be hurting forever, I'll make sure of that. Even if I have to strip in Primark and do the chicken dance to make you laugh again, I'll do it."

I felt my eyes get misty as I said, "You've gotten proper wise in your old age, innit?" He grinned and pulled me close for a hug and a kiss on my cheek.

"Are you at least feeling a little better now? Are you ready to go back in?" He asked. My breathing was still shaky, and my stomach and mind could still double as high speed blenders that you'd see advertised on an hour long infomercial, but I nodded.

He stood up first and then gave me his hand to help me up, as well.

"As ready as I'll ever be." And with that, he reached over and opened the door.