I Think I Love You | Randy

track 14. i don't want to talk about it - rod stewart

I don't want to talk about it, how you broke my heart.

***

It should have stopped before it started.

Before the guilty feeling swelled up within me. Before I realised that somebody who'd once called your body home could feel like a stranger again. Before pleasure turned into regret. Before distraction became delusion. Before I reached the point I couldn't turn back from, a hand reached between my legs to jerk myself off so that it could be over as quickly as possible, a fake smile on my face and blasphemous moans forcing their way past my lips.

I had the power to stop it. One word would have been all it took, so that I wouldn't have to lie here now and live with myself. But I never said it.

I went straight home from the party, a vodka bottle in my hand as I stumbled through the familiar streets, wondering if I could black myself out and wipe my memory clean. Then perhaps I wouldn't have to wake up with this feeling of self disgust. My phone dinged and I glanced down at it, the sight of Rye's name like a stab in the gut.

Where'd you go?

I didn't want to lie but I couldn't face his disappointment yet. It was better to keep it vague for now, just enough to stop him from worrying.

Got drunk. Went home.

You safe? He texted back. I just sent him a yes even though I hadn't reached my house yet, just needing the conversation with him to be over before I broke down on the street. Ok, good, he replied. I'll pick you up in the morning x.

Once I made it home I laid in my bed staring at that little 'x' until it got too blurry to see. One tiny little kiss; to think that was what had triggered all this. That one tiny taste of him had made me go insane.

***

The sun rose, welcoming me into the new year with a headache and enough regrets to last into the next year to come. Sobriety didn't ease my suffering one bit, instead it brought a sickening clarity to the extent of my problems. I was chained to my bed as my mind put together just how badly I'd fucked up.

I'd surely have to end it with Brook. I wouldn't be able to look at him if I kept this to myself nor could I go on with him pretending nothing had changed. I hated myself, because we still had the shows to get through and it would be awkward, not to mention Jack would finally have a good reason to hate me. I started crying as I realised every friend I'd made in that cast had been Brook's friend first, and if they had to pick sides not one of them would be on mine. And I couldn't even blame them, because I was the bad guy, the cheater. I could quit the show, but I was their lead, and that would only end up letting them down even more. Why did I have to be so fucking stupid?

I was shaking, on the verge of a breakdown when Rye came into my bedroom, I hadn't even heard his car pull up. I just sat there, unmoving while he moved to sit next to me, looking at me with concern, not understanding what was happening or why my suitcase was still open unpacked on my floor. I felt his hand touch my back lightly and that was what sent me over the edge, because he was being so kind, but I knew he would hate me too when he found out.

"Baby, what is it?"

I just collapsed into his chest, no words able to form as I drenched his shirt with tears. He hugged me tight, rocking me, not aware that everything he did was making my crying worse because even though it was the most irrational of my concerns, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was the one I had betrayed the worst.

"Andy, you're scaring me." He pulled away so he could hold my face in his hands. I immediately tried to wrench away, ashamed to look him in the eyes but he held me firmly. "Did something happen last night?"