Something More | Randy

chapter eleven | comfort

I somehow made it through the maze of rooms and burst out of the apartment building. I doubled over in the alley outside, my asthmatic lungs rebelling against my body's desire to keep running and running until this memory was an unrecognisable dot behind me. 

I couldn't believe I had let that happen. I was foolish not to see it before, but if I had I never would have let things go this far. It was all too clear now that this thing with Rye would never be just an experiment for me. It was more than merely a bit of fun with a close friend, a harmless crush.

I was devastatingly, hopelessly in love with him. Despite all my attempts to ignore it, it had been the truth for a long time. So I cried. 

I cried hunched up in that alley for what felt like a small eternity. The tears streamed down my cheeks freely, now that I had finally faced the full extent of my feelings for him, tasted him and let him go, there was no stopping them. I would have been content to curl up on the sidewalk and wait for the cement to swallow me up, had the cold not invaded my senses, urging me to action. 

I knew I needed to get home, and riding back the way I came was no longer a viable option. My first thought was to call Brooklyn, he was the only one who could understand. I cursed under my breath when I remembered he couldn't drive. 

The next best option was Mikey. He wouldn't know what was going on, but I banked on his kindness out-winning his curiosity, knowing he would help me even if I left his questions unanswered. I pulled out my phone and dialled the number. 

***

When the car pulled up I was shivering in my still damp clothes. I was in such a state that Mikey had to get out of the car and squat down next to me before I even noticed his presence. He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. 

"Let's go home, Fovvs."

I hugged my knees on the drive. Mikey, reminding me why I loved him, didn't press me for a single detail all the way home. He simply turned up the heating and held my hand in a gesture of pure familial comfort. 

He didn't even say a word when my phone began to buzz, over and over again. It was Kylie's contact, not Rye's, that flashed up each time on my screen, and so I couldn't bring myself to answer. Eventually, I switched the phone off completely.  

Finally, we pulled into the driveway of our country home. Once we were through the front door, I pulled Mikey into a hug. 

"Thank you," I mumbled into his shoulder as he rocked me. 

"Anytime, mate," he said, pulling out to look me in the eyes, "you know you can talk to me about it, Andy. Even though I said I didn't want to be in the middle, if you're upset, I'm here for you." 

"Maybe tomorrow," I muttered, not sure if I meant that. Besides Rye, Mikey was my closest friend in the band. I didn't know how he would react to what I was going through, and I wasn't sure I could handle potentially losing him too. All the same, I was beyond grateful for him tonight.

"Okay. Love you," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead, "try get some sleep."

"Love you too." We went our separate ways to bed. 

I pulled off my jeans and crawled under the covers, obsessing over how differently this night might have ended. For the first time since leaving, I realised the shirt I had picked up in my haste was not mine, but Rye's, and wearing his clothing only made me regret more everything that had transpired. I threw off the shirt, only to grasp at it once more once I realised I wouldn't be able to sleep without his scent tricking my brain into believing he was here with me, instead of in the arms of another, picking up where we had left off.