distraction: you

chapter twenty three

it's as if the world has caved in on itself.

eddy stumbles into the dimly-lit restroom, blindly scrambling for the lock on the door before he sinks to his knees, thoroughly spent. there is a wild and wretched storm brewing behind the cage of his ribs, untameable gale winds whipping through the shattered pieces of his composure.

he feels shaky. he feels numb. he should've moved past this ages ago, but god—he hasn't. he hasn't.

she had never gone to any of his concerts before, not even once. she had never even bothered to see her son for years before now. eddy had carved a life out for himself here: a lonely and frigid life for the most part, but a free life nonetheless. why on earth would she come to see him now?

no distractions, eddy.

the mental voice once thought banished to the ether—startlingly feminine, startlingly familiar—returns with ruthless vengeance. he buries his head in his hands; it's all eddy can do to keep himself from tearing his own hair out.

—nothing but weaknesses.

he does not allow the mental images those words bring to flood his senses and keep him captive, but it's a near thing. he's bested this beast once; he can do it again.

didn't i tell you—?

"eddy?"

the sudden voice jolts him out of the internal whirlwind, but then the surprise is quickly overshadowed by overwhelming dread. of all the people who could've followed him, it's the one person that he—that he wants to—that he's trying to make a good impression on.

eddy cares about brett's opinion of him. brett shouldn't be seeing him this low in the dirt.

the door creaks threateningly, a small sliver of light streaming in from the opening brett's pushing through, but eddy shoves his own body back against the doorframe, slamming it back shut. "don't come in here," he gasps, and already, his voice is a mere shadow of itself.

"please," eddy begs—and hopes that will be enough.

there is a silence for a moment. he would've thought brett had left him there, but there are no receding footsteps. damn it all. "does this have anything to do with your mother walking around the lobby right now?"

a shaky laugh tinged with desperation claws its way up his throat. he doesn't want brett to see him like this. and—if he has to resort to hurt like he has so many times before, then he will.

eddy's no stranger to being hated, anyway.

"maybe? i don't know? god, can't you just leave it well enough alone?" he slams a fist against the door, listens to the way brett audibly flinches on the other side of the barrier. "go away, brett. i don't want you here."

there. that should do it. eddy waits for the inevitable harsh retort and departure—that doesn't come. there's another moment of silence instead, the faint scuffling of polished shoes against floor tiles, and then: "you don't mean that."

truth be told, he's flummoxed. why isn't he leaving? maybe eddy should be trying harder. "i do, okay? can't you understand that i—"

brett cuts him off, tone low and measured. "i know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work." the door creaks again, like the man on the other side had placed his weight against it. "not this time."

those words, gentle as they are uttered, make his eyes water. god, will wonders never cease where brett yang is concerned?

anything eddy has to say dries up in his throat, nowhere to be seen. all he can do is cling to the faint grooves of the wooden doorway and try his best not to fall apart where he stands.

when the next words come, they continue to be gentle, coaxing. "let me help you, eddy. please. that's all i want."

no distractions—

"let me in," brett whispers from the other side, and for a brief fanciful moment, eddy imagines the other man leaning his forehead against the door, against the exact place eddy's tilting his own head towards. without this barrier between them, they'd be touching. the thought makes something in his chest ache all too acutely. "p-please?"

despite his earlier resolution not to let brett see him in this pathetic state, eddy hates the way his friend sounds: so unsure of himself, nothing like the confident leader he knows him to be. above all else, maybe—maybe he just wants to let go and trust that he'll be caught safe and sound. just for a while. he wants to be weak with someone who'll be there for him, give him strength. maybe—maybe that person is on the other side of the door right then and there.

eddy feels his resolve waver, and then finally give way.

he can trust brett yang with his life, he knows this. he'll find out whether he can trust brett yang with his heart.

(the door opens, and a flame shines in the dark places where no light had once touched before.)