Hide the Truth From My Eyes

Stu's POV

Ian was devastated. 
He always wanted to protect Sean -- the boy always had been younger than him, and Ian had once confided in me that he was always afraid of hurting him whatever they did. That was back then when Sean wasn't taller than him. 

I remember that Sean didn't know what he was going to do later and the only career he had in view before meeting Ian was stripper. He got an English GCSE and just started to ride buses through Cardiff. Better than stripper. A boy like that should not be something like that.

Sean was precious -- I have to admit it--, Sean had this special something. Yet he wasn't using it. But it was still precious, this little spark. It was something like innocence. For a man whose innocence has gone long ago, this is a weird thing but there is in him this naïveté young children have, this thing about him, this hyperactivity of the mind.

I don't think he liked being a bus driver. He dreamed of spotlight. I knew it and I think that was what brought the idea of strip-teasing.
Though I have seen him dancing for Ian and I can safely say it gave me a boner too-- that I sorted with having sex with Mike. The boy is sometimes too sexy for his own good. Sure I had Mike -- What could I ask more? But what do you want, Sean sometimes does it on purpose. He sure would've made a good stripper, but god he didn't deserve to end up like that. We all know what strippers get to be. And Sean cannot be that.

Now Ian was in the bathroom, sobbing, and I heard the shower starting. I opened the door and he was sitting under the jet, all dressed up, soaked and crying his eyeballs out. His hair stuck along his thin face. I went to kneel down near him.

"Ian..."

"Leave me alone!"

"Ian just step out of this shower!"

"Why should I? You cried for hours when we brought Mike to the hospital!"

"I fucking know okay?" I cringed, my hands going to my temples, rubbing them, making my reading glasses go out of place. "But. Just stop the shower or something."

He did stop the shower and sat there shuddering. I gave him a towel and a faint smirk. 

"See?"

--

I remember that time there was a reception at the office. I was just a secretary, but I was still invited. I was supposed to bring my partner. Mike and I had dressed up and all -- I was used to his Tesco cashier clothes so it was unusual to see him in that suit, the suit from our prom -- and he was fucking fit in those clothes. "Get in my pants you sexy bitch" was all that could go through my brain. 

We arrived at the office and the boss himself went to greet me. Since that he's promoted me -- I'm service chief -- I think the man really appreciated me. He shook Mike's hand, even asked him if he had to call him Mr Richardson, to which Mike chuckled in his adorable way and said it wasn't worth bothering.

Then he hooked his arm in mine and I started to hesitantly go and talk to some of my colleagues. We sure got very dirty looks, awkward situations and all but for the first hour it was okay. 
You know this colleague that hates you unconditionally but you don't know why? Well, I knew why he hated me but still. He came up to the boss and asked why I, a simple secretary, had been invited.

The boss defended me, apparently, saying he wanted to give me a promotion and the guy scoffed because he was waiting for a promotion --not my fault if he's incompetent-- and started arguing that he shouldn't because I was, oh horror, gay, and that I sucked dick. I think he insinuated someone that GETS FUCKED can't be in control.

The boss got pissed at him and said he did not admit discriminatory talk in there.
The guy was pretty drunk actually. I came up to him and asked him what was wrong about me, Mike to my side, the boss watching. I towered over the man -- even Mike was slightly taller than him. He tried to punch me but I blocked his fist. Hello, I was the one kids paid at school to protect them.

I asked him again and he just made a big sucking noise and said me to go and eat up Mike's balls. 
I cracked up and punched him in the face. His nose bled. His mouth too. 
I said him he could go die in a hole. I still think it.

--

Jamie, Ian and I sat on the couch watching TV. Jamie's head was on my knees and Ian was falling asleep on my shoulder. Calm down, it's just bromance.
My eyes were lost in the bright coloured moving images, unable to make sense of them. 
I've lost the count of days but it might have been two weeks since Sean's been hospitalized with Lee and Mike. And still no news. 

My mind was more or less wandering down my memories with Mike. 
I knew, by the way Jamie looked at the ceiling, that he was doing the same. I could almost see Lee into his dull eyes. Nonchalantly, my hand went to ruffle his hair. Jamie blinked and looked up at me. He frowned, his fingers combing his hair back into place. 

"Stuart?"

"Yup?"

"If you had to die, how would you do it?"

Oh.
Okay.
Stu, don't do like you've never thought about it. 
I know how I would do. I would overdose. Classic.
But was it even safe telling Jamie? The look in his eyes. His mind was going wrong. 
He spoke again, ignoring my silence.

"I'd slit my wrists. Y'know, watch the blood flowing out. Like a river. A red river. Flllwwffsh." he murmured, mimicking the sound of flowing water. "It's fine dying like that. I don't feel like throwing myself in front of a train or jumping off a building. Just a cut and y'know, you're gone. It's so simple."

I stared at the wall blankly and didn't respond.

"If Lee dies I'll do that." Jamie said abruptly.

My eyes shuffled back to him.

"What?! No!"

"Yes. I'll definitely do that."

"Jamie, no!" I said, panicked.

"If Lee's dead, my life has no purpose." he said like it was the most evident thing in the world.

"But your job? And us?"

"No offence but I don't care." he whispered bluntly. 

Silence settled between us. Ian stood up and went to get a bottle of vodka. It had already been three beers of silent, quiet drinking. But I didn't stop him. 
I reported my gaze to the TV. The late night news had gotten on. First it talked about some kind of murder or shit, I didn't pay attention.

Ian drank the vodka by the neck. His green eyes were vague. 
The news report switched to the epidemic and Jamie and I froze. Ian took a gulp. 
Shots of the exterior of the hospital. 

"For now no patient is dead, but we don't exclude the possibility. Some of them get better but most of them, I can't lie, just keep getting worse."

I felt Jamie rush off the couch and saw him go crouch in the corner of the room, his head buried in his hands, trembling. I stood up and went to him.

"Jamie..."

"Leave me alone." he stuttered.

"No. Jamie. Come back. Here?"

I put my arm around his shoulder. He stood up slowly, his legs shaking, and I brought him back to the sofa.