Don't Give Up (On Me)

“Mom, dad,” John began, “this is Leighton, my girlfriend.”

A nervous smile graced my lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Leighton this is my mom Jenny and my dad John, but we call him Jay.” John explained.

“Oh give me a hug,” Jenny chuckled, welcoming me with open arms. “I don’t remember the last time
John brought a girl home to meet us.”

“He hasn’t, that’s why. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.” Jay greeted warmly, chuckling at his wife’s response.

“You too,” I said, as I struggled against his mothers’ grip.

“Mom, you’re killing her,” John chuckled, pulling me back into his own arms.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m just so happy you’ve finally brought a girl home to meet us.” Jenny sighed happily, clasping her hands together before pinching John’s cheek. “Now come on through, lunch is ready. I want to hear all about how you two met and where Leighton got that gorgeous dress from.”

John held me back slightly as his parents walked into the dining room. He gave me a light kiss before a smile. “They love you. I knew they would, but I’m so damn happy they love you, Lei.”

“I know your family is important to you, so it’s important to me.” I murmured, kissing him back. “I love your parents.”

“As much as you love me?” He asked cutely.

I sent him a look. “You know how much I love you is completely unconventional.”

“All the more reason I love you back, just as much as my moms’ Sunday dinner.” He chuckled.

I laughed. “Come on you big goober, give me the full O’Callaghan experience.”

“I’m so glad you guys hit it off.”

***

“How is my son? He hasn’t called me for ten months now.”

I looked up from my coffee with a sad smile. “He’s doing better, much better.”

It was late October, and John had spent the last month in the studio with the guys. They were tracking songs for their fourth album (which remained untitled) and were going really well apparently. I didn’t see him much these days because he’d spend a lot of the time at the studio, on top of his Monday and Thursday night sessions, but we always caught up for lunch on Tuesdays after his appointment in order to touch base.

In regards to his medication, his doctor had put him on something called Zoloft that had the possibility of giving him side effects such as weight gain (not so bad), sleep disturbance (nothing new), apparently there was something about red and purple spots on the skin (I was going to have to examine the ‘scars’ I thought were ‘burn marks’ later on. There was also nosebleeds, increase in mood swings, sweating and thirst. I think the one thing that pissed John off the most was the loss of bladder control (no puns intended). The list of course went on (quite extensively) and although there was a possibility that he may not get any at all, he said the moment he wets the bed is the moment he quits the medication.

What I preferred about this medication, was that Zoloft was also used to help with obsessive compulsive disorder and anxiety, so hopefully it covered all grounds. I was obviously putting a lot of faith into this medication because it really seemed like our last choice before we took a stronger approach- one I hoped we wouldn’t have to take.

“The boys have even got a show on Halloween, next Thursday,” I added, and even though it was only Saturday, I was already nervous for it.

“It’s good to hear he’s doing well, then.” Jenny nodded.

I don’t know what pushed me to meet up with John’s mom, but I missed her, and his family and figured if he didn’t know I saw his mom, it couldn’t hurt him. I know it was wrong to lie to him, but I needed to touch base with her.

I nodded, bringing my coffee to my lips. “He’s on a new type of medication too, so we’re hoping that this works better.”

“Another new medication?” She questioned, surprised. “Isn’t this the second?’

“Third,” I corrected. “If this doesn’t work, I think we’re going to try something stronger…I’ve been thinking about it anyway.”

Jenny nodded, “And he’s been going to therapy as well?”

“He has, and he’s started going to a boxing class through the week for anger management.”

She looked at me strangely, like I’d offended her. “Anger management?”

“Uh…yeah, he…the mood swings, sometimes he-“

“He hurts you, doesn’t he?” She asked boldly.

“No-“

“You can’t lie to me hun, I’m the boys’ mother. I know him better than you’d think.” She said, sitting
back. “He got into a lot of fights as a kid, I can only imagine that streak has stayed with him.”

I sighed. “It was only twice. And by accident- he didn’t know what he was doing.” I said, deciding that twice sounded better than three times.

She didn’t respond immediately, but looked disappointed. “I’m so sorry sweetheart,”

I shook my head. “He’s never hit me

“Can I ask what he’s done?” She asked gently.

I winced. “I’d rather not go into it. We’re trying to put it behind us.”

She nodded respectfully. “That’s alright hun, just don’t be scared to call us for help. I know he’s my child, but it’s doesn’t make it right.”

“I know, and we’ve talked about it, we’re okay. I’ve only accepted his apologies because he’s doing something about it.” I stated.

“He’s so lucky to have someone like you, Leighton. He really is,” Jenny sighed, “someone who won’t take his crap but is understanding with him.”

“I can’t afford to be anything else,” I mused. I hated when people praised me for staying with him. I know it was obvious that I put him before me, but you had to be selfless in a relationship. Right now he was going through something emotionally painful. I had no idea what that was like but I needed to be there for him. It was quite simple, really.

“Can I ask a typical motherly question?” She asked, bringing the conversation to a lighter topic.
Hopefully, anyway.

“Of course,” I nodded.

“Do you see yourself marrying my son? Be honest, I’m not going to get offended.” She prompted.

I thought back to the other day when he gave me the ring and I freaked out. That was an honest reaction even I didn’t see coming. Did that indicate that I didn’t want to get married to him? I’m sure one day, when we were past all of this. “Eventually, yeah.” I nodded finally, bringing a smile to her lips. “I see it happening in the future, even if it’s the distant future. I don’t think we’re ready just yet.”

“Of course,” she nodded, “and what about children?”

I shook my head. “Definitely in the distant future. I don’t think he loves or cares enough for himself to care and love another human being just yet.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed, “hopefully we’ll have cleared things with him before any of that happens, his father and I would like to be a part of that.”

“You’d definitely be a part of our lives,” I assured, “I’m trying to figure out how to bring the subject up with him without him going off at me.”

“Getting married?”

“No, talking to his family. He won’t talk to me about what happened or why he acted like that, but I’m hoping it comes out soon at one of his sessions.” I vented.

“I wish I could be of more help with all of that hun, I really do.” She sighed. “We miss seeing you two
around the house.”

“I miss you guys,” I sympathized, “I really do.”

“Why don’t you come around then?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Come over for lunch one day next week, I know Shane misses you.”

I thought seeing Jenny behind John’s back was going to be hard. Seeing his whole family? I don’t know if I could do that to him. Sure I missed them all; especially his brothers, but I don’t know how I’d be able to betray him to such an extent after promising him I would support his decisions.

But I missed them. And maybe I could even talk to Shane about what happened with him and John. I mean, he never had to find out I saw them. But no…I couldn’t do that…could I?

“How’s the Saturday?”

***

“You look stunnin’ did I tell you that already?” He murmured against my neck.

I blushed, shaking my head as my hands found their way to his hip bones. “A few times.”

“Well it’s worth saying again,” he whispered, his hot breath roaming my skin before his lips sucked on my neck.

I tipped my head back against the front door, gripping his shirt in my hands. “John…”

“Say my name,” he grunted.

My hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning the front of his short sleeved shirt. It was some weird design but I liked it, I’d seen it in Top Man a few days ago and the relation made me smile. I pressed my lips to his neck and started kissing down his chest.

“You wanna take this inside?” He breathed heavily.

My eyes widened as I realized we were still on the front door step outside of my house. “Yeah, sorry.” I blushed, turning around and grabbing my keys from my purse. I stopped suddenly when I felt his lips on the back of my bare shoulder, making me shiver.

“Your skin is so smooth, you taste like strawberries,” he observed as I regained my composure and unlocked the front door, letting him inside.

“You smell like mint and cigarettes.” I threw back, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall.

“Sorry, does that put you off?” He winced from behind me.

I shook my head, looking over my shoulder and smiling at him. “Quite the opposite actually.”

He smirked at me, pushing his lips back onto my shoulder blade as we made it to my bedroom where I dropped my purse and kicked off my heels. I turned around to him and took him in. with only the lamp on, his skin was golden, his chest especially, exposed to the light.

“Shit, you’re just really pretty,” he mumbled, blushing immediately once realizing he’d spoken aloud. “I mean-“

“I think you’re adorable,” I teased, walking over to him and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. “Now, are you sure you want to do this?”

He sent me a look. “Okay, don’t emasculate me entirely.”

I sent him a pout. “If it’s your first time, you can tell me, sweetheart. I promise I’ll go slow.”

He let out a laugh. “This. This is why I asked you out.”

“Because I’m pretty?” I teased, my hands playing with his belt.

He swallowed thickly. “Yeah…”

“Well come on, O’Callaghan; spit it out.”

***

“Babe I’m home!” I called out as I walked inside. There was an extra car on the front lawn that I couldn’t quite place so I figured one of the guys were over with him in his studio. John had promised that he’d save the weekend for us, but I guess he was quick to forget that.

I didn’t get a response but heard guitar coming from upstairs. I made a note not to disturb them and headed into the kitchen instead. I grabbed a bottle of guava juice from the fridge, even though I was craving an ice cold beer. I was glad to say we’d done well without the alcohol, and John was cutting down on his smoking. Jared had let me know that there was no drinking going on in the studio so I was relieved
John hadn’t gone behind my back either.

I took a seat at the kitchen bench and sat quietly before noticing a worn notebook at the end of the bench. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew that it was John’s song book. Guiltily, I picked it up and flicked through it. The page that caught my eye, was the page with the most words scribbled out. It looked like a schizophrenic’s diary. At the top of the page, it read ‘Happy’.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” I mused, before letting my eyes flow over the words.

I don’t think I am capable of
this teenage televised, taping of love

What?

But here is my guide on how to be alone
Just act like a freak and sleep with everyone you’ve ever known

I tried to not let that get to me.

I’m half crazy, all just cracked up
When will what I have ever be good enough?
I’m sad, funny it seems lately this ain’t a fairytale and
I don’t think I’ll ever be happy

Way to shoot down the purpose of your therapist, John. Did he honestly think he wasn’t good enough? Because that broke my heart. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be happy. That was definitely relevant towards his depression. I threw the book back down on the bench, my mood a lot darker than before.
I couldn’t wait to hear what the rest of the album was going to reveal.

Not.

****

“Do you know why I love it when you wear my leather jacket?” He asked later that night, as we walked through town.

“Why is that?” I asked, shooting Layla a text, curious about her relationship with Jack.

“Because when we first started dating you wore leather jackets- remember? You were really badass and
independent. Now…I feel like I’ve worn you down to be someone who’s constantly worrying about me and looking after me. It’s not you. You used to be more reckless and carefree.” He said, his fingers playing with my ring as we walked hand in hand. He’d gotten frustrated with Garrett upstairs over the music and I suggested we go out for a walk and that they leave it until Monday. It seemed to have calmed him down a lot.

“I grew up, babe. It had to happen.” I insisted. “No more badassing around.”

“You mean you had to look after me.”

“I could have left, y’know,” I stated boldly, “I could have walked away because I was young when you got diagnosed, and I had to make that choice. Do I leave, find someone my age and continue being as reckless as I was? Or do I grow up, put more effort into my career and put ‘us’ first? I chose the second obviously.”

“And why is that?” He asked softly as we made our way through a park. It was nice and peaceful at night, extremely relaxing.

“Because I love you,” I answered immediately. “Because you’re now a huge part of my life and I hope it stays like that for a very long time, if not forever.”

He stopped at a park bench and we sat down. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into my chest. “The first few months, the rough months, I could tell how frustrated you were with me. When I’d snap at you and you weren’t used to it-“

“I bit my tongue a lot,” I nodded admittedly.

“Remember when you pushed me into the kitchen bench?” He chuckled, “You gave me a bruise but you brought down my ego.”

“Don’t bring that up,” I whined, burying my face into his chest. “I’m so sorry-“

“No, Leighton that’s not what I’m getting at.” He said, shaking his head, “I want you to do that again-“

“Push you into the kitchen bench? John if that turns you on, there is seriously something wrong with your meds-“

“No,” he chuckled, “Babe I need you to hit me back.”

“I’m not going to hit you back,” I sighed, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“I mean bring my ego down,” he murmured, his lips against my temple. “I’m not saying this right…babe, I know that I say stupid shit, and I do stupid shit, and I want you to…”

“Keep your ego down.” I nodded slowly. “Not let you walk all over me, make you my bitch.”

“In so many words, yeah.” John nodded, kissing my forehead. “Can you do that for me?”

“I can,” I confirmed quietly, “don’t expect me to physically hit you though.”

“You do whatever it takes.” He murmured.

I looked up at him. “You planning on snapping at me?” I asked, slightly amused, slightly curious.

“We can’t do this if you’re scared of me.”

I tensed up. How did he know that? Not that it was true-how did he think it was true? “I-I’m not
scared of you.”

“Yeah, you get scared when I get aggressive, you get scared when I snap at you.” He stated, looking
down at me. He pulled me further into his chest because it was getting colder as it got later into the night.

“I know I’m not myself a lot of the time, but I do know you. Very well.”

“Is this a lifestyle change?” I asked softly.

“Yes, because this lifestyle doesn’t make you happy and I need to change that.”

We headed home after another hour on the bench. We had a good talk between us, at some points it was difficult and I felt like crying, but for the most of it…it felt like we were making progress. Not so much with his condition side of things, but the relationship side of things. We were more…together.

When we got home, he made head upstairs and get changed, claiming he had another gift for me. I fought him on it but he won in the end and said he was going to make us both a coffee while I got ready for bed.

“That’s just going to keep you up all night!” I called down to him as I changed into one of his old sweatshirts and a pair of pajama shorts before climbing into bed.

“That’s the point!” He called back up.

I frowned in confusion but picked up my phone and checked my emails while I waited. My curious fingers tapped on my Instagram app to see what was going on in the real world. Nothing too exciting except for an update from Layla. Apparently she was having dinner with Jack. It was an obvious couple photo and was only confirmed by an earlier text I’d missed from before.

I made a comment before flicking through everyone else’s posts. When John finally made his way upstairs, I put my phone down and sat up, a small smile growing on my lips. “So why do we needed to stay up all night?” I asked curiously.

“Because I want to talk to you. And I want to make out with you. And I want to watch scary movies with you. And I want to listen to Bob Dylan with you.” John stated, handing me a coffee and climbing into bed beside me.

“Is that my birthday gift is it?” I laughed, kissing him.

His eyes widened and he pulled away. “No, shit. Hold on.” He mumbled, climbing out of bed and placing his coffee on the bedside table.

“And take your boots off!” I called after him. “And you jeans.”

He sent me a look but did so before walking into our closet.

“You hid my present in there? How could I not have seen it?” I frowned.

“Because it’s in a box,” he said, leaving the closet with a large square box, not high in width but high enough to keep me interested. “I hope you like it.”

“You didn’t have to get me another present,” I pouted, “this ring looked like it cost you a fortune already.”

He looked at the ring with a blank expression before sending me a small smile. “Just open it,” he nodded, placing the box in my lap and sitting beside me, reclaiming his coffee.

I kissed him quickly before lifting the lid of the box. Inside, was a black leather jacket; much nicer than the one I thought I’d lost. Much nicer than his- much nicer than any jacket I’d ever seen. “Oh my god, John it’s gorgeous.”

“I’m glad,” he chuckled. “Happy birthday darlin’.”

I looked back up at him and hugged him. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”