Super Associated

Draking

Pacing the hallway outside the studio, I try to figure out what the right thing to do is. Tell him. Don't tell him. Tell him. Don't tell him. Tell him. Don't tell him.

Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, I try to calm my nerves before having to go back inside. There was no easy way out of this because whichever way I go, there was going to be tears and heartache, no doubt about it. I speak for myself on that one, although, knowing Francis like I do, it might apply to him as well. 

The door to the producer's room opens and India gives me a blank stare as she points to the studio door. It was her way of telling that I was due back in there. Ignoring her attitude, I gather enough courage to walk back into the studio, sit next to Francis and nod at Chelsea that we're ok to go ahead. I was familiar with the song that was playing and knew that it wasn't even halfway through so while we were sitting around, Chelsea arranged for some of the social media posts she'd received to flash up on a screen on my side of the desk. 

The Tweets were slightly more complimentary than they were an hour ago but many of them were full of theories about why I was refusing to commit to Francis. The conspiracies ranged from me being a lesbian to harbouring a secret boyfriend elsewhere, or the fact that I was born a man and had a sex change. Not one person managed to get it right, though. 

"We're back on Loose Lipped and we're joined by Romy and Francis," Chelsea recaps. Her voice is sombre, just like the mood in the room. "They've been on and off for two years and while Francis wants to become official, Romy is holding back. Just before we had a music break, Francis asked Romy why she can't commit. Romy, over to you."

I take a deep breath in and decide, fuck it, he may as well know the truth. "I can't commit to Francis because I'm already in love with someone else," I admit, much to the shock of both Chelsea and Francis. Unable to look at either of them, I focused on the microphone that was under my nose and continued. "When I was twenty, I had a boyfriend. His name was Vaughn and he was this amazing person who instantly made me fall in love with him. We had an intense relationship and for months, we lived in this intimate little bubble. I never introduced him to my family and only a handful of friends knew he existed.

"Vaughn was a huge part of my life because he is the only man I've ever loved." My voice starts to break and I can feel my heart racing while my breathing becomes laboured. Feeling that this was the beginning of a panic attack, I take a moment to calm myself down, brushing my sweaty palms on my shirt. "We were only together for nine months in total and then... Vaughn killed himself."

There, I'd said it. It was out in the open. The truth was finally coming out. 

"Romy-"

"It's ok," I quickly brush off Chelsea's attempt to console me. I didn't want her pity. This was something I'd been carrying around for five years; I was ok. "It happened. You know, one day he was this happy go lucky guy and the next, I walk into his flat and he's in his bed, an empty bottle of pills at his side. Turns out, that boy that I loved so much that my heart shattered that morning, he'd been battling depression for a few years and had overdosed on medication and sleeping pills. He left a note, apologising for not being honest with me and telling me that I'd made his life the happiest it had been for years but I wasn't enough to silence his demons."

Remembering the note the police handed me when they arrived at the scene, Vaughn had thanked me for being a huge part of his life, said that he was grateful that I'd made him laugh and smile, and professed his love for me, something that he'd only said once before. I still had the letter hidden away in the pages of a book of poetry Vaughn had given me. It was on my bedside table, even now. 

Smiling sadly, I shrug my shoulder in defeat. "I loved him so much and I wasn't finished loving him. He was stolen from me and ever since then, I've been thinking, 'what if?'" Chelsea nods in understanding but Francis remains silent, his eyes fixed on the table. "What if he hadn't killed himself? What if we'd dated longer? What if we had stayed together, gotten married, had children? He was a promise, a chance at a future. When he died, all that went with him. That's why I can't love anyone else."

"Why didn't you say any of this before?" Chelsea asked. "You've never mentioned him before and we're supposed to be friends."

The truth is, I never told anyone about Vaughn and our relationship. Mel was the only one who knew and I'd made her promise me that she wouldn't share it with others. My family didn't know a thing about him; I hadn't taken him home yet and just as we were getting to the stage of the relationship where I could imagine introducing him to my parents, to Michael, to my sisters, he was gone. Knowing that Michael was listening to the show and had to hear about it this way, it made me feel sick. 

"Have you ever wondered about our 'what if?'" Francis asked, his questioning tone making me wince. "What if I'm offering you a chance at a future? What if I could love you the same, if not more? What if we got married and had children? What if, Romilly, what if?"