Shadows From the Abyss

The next night during the West Palm Beach show, Shawn stayed stage side. Art ventured out into the crowd and somehow pushed his way forward to the barricade in front of Mike. He was incredibly easy to spot being six foot in a sea of hormonal girls, but the black Korn hat he was wearing and his red flannel didn’t hurt. Anytime he caught Shawn’s eye he smiled and winked before going back to dancing and singing. Just watching him have the time of his life gave Shawn a warm, fuzzy feeling in his soul. He really did love Art and being with him had really improved his mood and outlook. He stopped the whirlwind constantly spinning in his head and calmed his anxiety in a way no one had ever been able to.

He was nervous about Art flying out tomorrow. They’d drive to Tampa overnight and then first thing in the morning he and his Dad would drive him out to the airport to catch his flight back to Raleigh. What if he had a meltdown in the terminal or as soon as he was alone, had a panic attack no one could stop? Fuck, maybe he should fly back home with him and avoid any chance of falling off again. No, he needed to be able to stand on his own and be okay for a few days. And over thinking it tonight wasn’t going to help. Take the cards you’re dealt and make that shit work, as his mother used to say.

He stood up from the gear box he was sitting on and stretched before heading back and getting another beer. No one on the road crew gave a shit that he was 19, but he did his best to avoid venue staff backstage, not that any of them knew who he was or that the drummer tearing it up on stage was his father. He took his time, strolling around and checking out all the instruments and gear that was being loaded up. He congratulated the guys from Catfish and the Bottlemen on another great set when he ran into them before finally returning to his spot.

“Alright, we still need a drummer,” Billie proclaimed over the speakers. “Drummer, drummer, come on someone here plays.” He suddenly laughed. “Seriously? Alright, come on, dude.”

Shawn sipped his beer, expecting to look up and see a young kid or teenager, but almost spit all the liquid from his mouth when he saw his lover walking back towards the drum set with a swagger unmatched by anyone he had seen before. Since when did he play? He turned his hat around backwards with a cocky grin before rolling his sleeves up as he ascended the riser steps. The look on Tre’s face was full of ‘You’re shitting me’ as he approached. Shawn watched, feeling a mixture of awe and horror as his Dad stood, handed over a pair of sticks, gave basic instructions which Art immediately understood and took over as if he had played every day of his life.

“Did you set this up?” Shawn asked Billie in disbelief when all three men exited the stage beside him.

“Hell no,” Billie scoffed, trying to catch his breath as he grabbed a water bottle from the cooler a stage hand had brought for them.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was a drummer?” His Dad asked.

“I didn’t know, he never mentioned it,” Shawn watched as Art masterfully kept the beat, adding in a cymbal hit occasionally. How had he not known about this? Had he mentioned it before or was it some surprise he had been hiding?

His Dad and Mike ran for a quick bathroom break while Billie stood and watched for a few more seconds, slightly taken back. “Keep this kid, I like him.”

Shawn just nodded, pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos, letting the horror drop away and the awe and amazement take over. “Go baby!”

When the show had wrapped and everyone had left, Art finally reappeared backstage, covered in sweat and confetti but a look of satisfaction and pure enjoyment on his face. “Did I rock or what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you played?” Shawn laughed, pulling him into a tight embrace. “You did awesome!”

“Surprise,” Art beamed. “I started playing when I was like ten.”

“You mother fucker!” Tre yelped, walking over and clapping Art on the back, “I’m so fucking proud of you!”

After peeling all of the confetti out of his hair and off of his body, Art took a quick shower while the guys went out and greeted fans waiting by the back fence. He thanked his boyfriend profusely for taking photos and after debating it for a few minutes, worked up the courage to call his parents and tell them what he had been doing. “Dad’s gonna be so happy,” He smiled, waiting as the phone rang over speaker phone.

“My man,” A deep, rough voice finally answered, clearly enthused to finally hear from his son.

“What’s goin on, sailor man?” Art grinned, sitting forward in his seat at the small table.

“I was just thinking about you, long time no talk. What’s going on?”

“Well,” Art took a breath, figuring out how to word this. “Do you remember when we talked in June and I told you I had met someone?”

“Yeah; oh God, you didn’t get someone pregnant did you?”

“No Dad,” He smirked, glancing up at Shawn, who just snickered. “No, uh, can’t really get another guy pregnant.”

There was a silence on the other end, which made Shawn’s heart skip a beat as he prepared for Armageddon to rain down. Fuck, what was he about to say? Say it already; get the hate speech over with.

“Yeah, that does seem pretty impossible,” He finally said with a slight chuckle. “So what’s the lucky boy’s name?”

Shawn and Art both let out the breath they were holding, letting their bodies relax a bit since there wasn’t an angry explosion on the other end.

“His name is Shawn, and he’s pretty spectacular. I think you’ll really like him. But anyway, his dad is in a band and I’ve been on a tour bus with them for the last three days. We’re in Palm Beach right now and heading to Tampa tonight. It’s been so amazing, you would love it.”

“That’s awesome! What band is he in?”

“Do you remember that album that I used to play a lot called American Idiot?”

“That was the one your sister and mom hated so much, right?”

Art grinned at the memory. “Yeah, that’s the one. But his dad is the drummer and they invited me to ride along for a few shows. Dad, tonight they were looking for a drummer in the crowd and I hopped up there and did it! I played in front of like 20,000 people!”

“Wow Arthur, that’s spectacular. Hang on; let me get your mom. Pam! Pam, I’ve got Arthur on the phone…..that can wait, come here, he’s got some really amazing news!........Yes, it’s more important than that! Just come here!....Alright, hang on, she’s taking her sweet time coming up here.”

“Before she gets up there, can I tell you something?”

“Sure, bud.”

The smile finally faded from Art’s face, his expression suddenly incredibly serious. “You remember when you told me how when you look at Mom, you feel fireworks going off in your heart and when she calls your name it’s the greatest sound you’ve ever heard?”

“Of course, even after forty years I still feel that.”

He looked at Shawn, a sincere look deep in his chocolate brown eyes, a slight smile returning to his lips. “That’s…..that’s how I feel when I’m around Shawn. He just….he balances my crazy and makes even the worst days fantastic. And I really love him a lot.” He reached out and gently took Shawn’s hand, squeezing his fingers and winking.

His father was quiet on the other end for a few seconds, thinking about how to respond. “I’m glad you’ve finally found your match, Arthur. Alright, now talk to your mother and be nice.”

The smile on his lips dropped and was replaced with a look of annoyance. “Hello Mother.”

“Hello Arthur,” His mother replied in a dry, nasally voice with a thick Wisconsin accent. “How have you been?”

Art shifted in his seat and was trying his hardest not to be a smartass. “Oh, everything’s just been peachy. How have you been?”

Shawn watched him as he started twitching, obviously annoyed he had to speak to his mother at all. He kept his answers short, and occasionally would make a face or silently scoff and roll his eyes at something she said. It made Shawn slightly uncomfortable, because he understood far more than Art knew he did. It had taken him and his father years to finally reach the point where they talked more than once every few weeks, even when he was living at home.

“So who’s this person you’re seeing now?”

Shawn saw Art suddenly sit back, a look of dread filling his eyes. Here we go. But he looked up and smiled, trying to reassure him it would be okay. “Well, his name is Shawn. We met online back in the spring and he makes me feel so complete, it’s wonderful.”

“Oh Christ alive, Arthur-“

“Yeah yeah yeah, again with the gay shit, right?” A snarl was suddenly on his face, an ember of anger igniting in his eyes.

“You know what the bible-“

“Oh fuck your bible!” He suddenly snapped, causing Shawn to jolt back in his seat. “Some dusty ass book that’s made up isn’t going to define my life, Mother! If that’s how you wanna live, go for it, but it’s never been my life and it never fucking will be! I’m gonna be damn happy about who I am and who I love!”

“Arthur Ray-“

“No! You’ve fucking judged me for this since I was 14 and I’m tired of it! It’s been a damn decade and you still judge me! It’s not a phase; it’s not something I’ll grow out of! I love Shawn and he makes me happy and that’s all that matters!”

The line went quiet on the other end as Art wiped angrily at his eyes, fighting back tears of rage, his face pink and his hands shaking. There was a muffled exchange on the phone as Shawn reached out and took his boyfriend’s hand, squeezing his fingers gently.

“Hey. It’s okay,” He whispered.

“I just wish she’d accept it,” Art muttered, his voice wavering with emotion and frustration.

Shawn nodded, his eyes sympathetic. He had never told anyone how ugly it used to be between him and his father; the bitter fights they had, the verbal low blows that caused them to stop any communication for days at a time. They were both too stubborn to admit defeat and would drag petty arguments out for weeks. No one ever won; they just both eventually gave up trying to make the other understand.

“Guess what, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. As long as we love each other and are happy, that’s what matters. To hell with anyone who says otherwise.”

Art nodded slowly, appreciative Shawn had his back. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Okay that’s about enough,” Art’s Dad was back on the phone. “I had a bad feeling you two would explode again.”

“Dad-“

“I know. It’s okay. But I need to talk to just you alone, okay? Not about what just happened, about something else. Think you can handle that right now, solider?”

The pair shared a glance and Shawn just nodded. Art cleared his throat and turned his speaker phone off before standing up. He kissed Shawn’s head and smiled weakly before exiting the bus. “What’s up, sailor?”

As Art was leaving, the guys were finally returning.

“Is he okay?” Tre asked.

“He will be,” Shawn sighed. “He told his mom about us and she didn’t take it so well.”

“To hell with her,” Mike called from the back.

Tre and Shawn shared a look, both grimacing at the same time; Tre from guilt and Shawn from general discomfort.

Everyone settled in for the night, Billie putting a movie on the flat screen at the front of the bus and everyone grabbing a seat. Art took his time returning and Shawn watched out the window as he walked around the backstage area a few times, his speed rapid and his face tense.

“I’m gonna go make sure he’s okay,” Shawn mumbled after the third lap. He slipped his shoes on and exited the bus, sprinting to catch up with his boyfriend. “Baby!”

“I can’t fucking believe this bullshit,” Art spat.

“What happened?”

“Oh what hasn’t fucking happened!” He finally stopped and turned, his eyes red and puffy, his cheeks streaked with tears, his breathing fast and ragged. “I…Dad….they…”

“Baby,” Shawn tried to remain calm. Don’t feed his anxiety; you’ll only make it worse. “Take a breath. Tell me what happened.”

The anger fell from Art’s face and was instantly replaced with sorrow. “Dad’s been really sick and they didn’t bother to tell me. They fucking hid it. He’s been in and out of the fucking hospital for months. Months! And no one fucking told me!” The palpable rage was back, stronger than before. He turned away from Shawn before kicking at the grave beneath his feet, sending rocks spraying forward into the darkness. “And they moved back to Kentucky. Thanks for the fucking update! Glad I didn’t need to find you!”

Shawn sighed, knowing good and well he wouldn’t be able to fix this; all he could do was listen.

Art turned again to face him again, a calmer expression on his face. “When I get back…” He sighed, “I’m gonna grab as many shifts as I can. I need to get all the PTO I can so I can go see him before it’s too late.”

Shawn nodded. “Whatever you need to do.”

“Just…please don’t be mad at me if you don’t see me for awhile. I’m not pulling away, I just….I need to focus.” He let out a shuttering breath as his shoulders began to shake. A string of sobs finally escaped his lips, finally letting go of the pain he was trying to hide.

“Come here, babe,” Shawn whispered, stepping forward and pulling his lover tight against him.

*
Art didn’t sleep at all that night. Everyone else was asleep and quiet, Shawn snoring softly beside him, but he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. How the hell could his family have kept this from him for so long? When someone’s that sick and in and out of the hospital, you make a damn phone call and let everyone know the end could be near. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. His dad hadn’t been hiding it, his mother had. Fucking bitch, you just don’t want me around. Dad’s the only one who loves me and you want to deny me that. I hope you fucking choke. If he were at home, he’d be able to go for a walk or a drive to try and clear his head, but the bus was finally starting to feel claustrophobic. He couldn’t leave, they were flying down the highway so he couldn’t get off, no one was awake to talk to; this was hell.

He finally pulled himself out of the small bed and stumbled through the dark, found Shawn’s jeans on the floor and pulled out his lighter and open pack of cigarettes. He glanced back one more time before silently slipping out the door. Then he heard the clicking of a keyboard. Fuck, someone’s awake.

Billie’s eyes lifting from his computer screen behind his glasses and he offered a small smile.

“These windows open at all?”

He just nodded and reached over, slowly sliding the window beside him open, but didn’t say anything else as Art sat across from him and lit up. He slid the ashtray at the corner of the table over, but kept his eyes on the screen, not wanting to come across as nosey. After several minutes, however, he couldn’t ignore the mounting tension radiating off of the younger man. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I doubt you’d understand,”

Billie snorted, sliding his laptop aside. “I may not understand but I can listen if that would help.”

Art tapped some ash into the ashtray and sighed heavily. “I fucking hate my family.”

“Don’t we all at some point?”

“No, like,” He angrily took a long drag, tapping his foot as the anger rose in his blood. “My mother is a fucking homophobic piece of trash, my siblings hate me, and I’m the fucking disappointment of the family,”

Billie just nodded; reaching in the seat beside him and pulling out his own pack of cigarettes. If they were going to have a venting session, he might as well get comfortable.

“My dad’s dying,” Art blunted said as he finished his cigarette.

“I’m sorry,”

“He’s been sick of months and in and out of the hospital and no one thought to call me. They didn’t think I’d give a shit or make any effort to see him before he fucking dies.”

Billie took a long drag and blew a pencil of smoke towards the open window. “And why would they think that?”

“Because they don’t want me around.” Art said quietly. “I ruin their perfect, wholesome family image and they don’t want me in the picture if they can help it.” He could feel any reservations he had about talking to Billie slipping away. Shawn had warned him about that; that he had some weird calming effect and was easy to talk to even when you hated him. They had barely interacted the entire time he had been on the road with them, but talking to him now it felt like they had known each other for years. He felt safe and inviting. It was slightly unnerving.

“Well, it doesn’t matter what they want, what matters is what you need,” Billie tapped ash from the end of his cigarette. “So if they don’t want you around, too bad. If you need to be there for your dad, to hell with what they think about you being there. Your piece of mind is more important.”

Art lowered his head a bit, trying to fend off a wave of emotion. “I told Shawn I need space when I get back and I feel really bad about that.”

“I know he of all people will understand, don’t worry about him.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“When he came back from California and isolated himself for a week, did you understand?”

“Absolutely.”

“The cause is different but the reason is the same,” Billie concluded wisely. “He will be fine, do what you need to do so you don’t go crazy.”

He nodded slowly. “I just don’t want him to find someone else. But I need to focus on getting to see Dad…I’m just afraid he’ll be gone when I get back.”

Billie shook his head. “Shawn is one of the most loyal people I know. If he really loves you like he says he does, he’s not going anywhere.”

Art lifted his head, a spark suddenly in his watery eyes. “What did he tell you?”

“He’s crazy about you, kid. He’s locked in for the long haul, so don’t worry about him. He’ll be right where you left him when you get back, I can promise you that.”

**
The terminal was quiet and almost empty that morning. Art sat beside Shawn while Tre was giving them space and sitting a few seats away while they waited for his gate number to be called. He held on to his boyfriend’s hand like a lifeline, terrified he would either fall apart and cry or panic and faint when his flight was called. He didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment just to throw himself onto every work shift he could grab to keep his mind occupied while he saved up to drive to be by his dad’s side just to watch him die. This couldn’t be real. His dad was always the strong one who laughed too loud; the guy who didn’t take no for an answer and if he wasn’t on a Destroyer in the Atlantic he was working on some project in his workshop. He didn’t have a weakness, or at least Art never thought he did. It felt like Superman had lost his powers and the wind was gone from his cape.

Shawn is talking to you. What the hell was he saying? Shit, could be something important. Focus, Art, fucking focus!

“Call me as soon as you get in,” Shawn said softly, rubbing the back of his hand. “Anytime you need to talk, you know I’ll be there, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“And if you need me to come home early, I will.”

Board this damn plane with me today then. I don’t want to be alone right now. “Thanks baby. I’ll be okay though. You enjoy your time with your dad.” Oh my God, stop lying and tell him you need support right now, you fucking stubborn bastard!

“I’m really proud of you,”

Art turned his head in shock. “For what?”

“You’re doing what you have to do. I know this is a really scary time, but you’re taking it in stride.”

Art swallowed, trying to control the shaking of his entire body. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Shawn furrowed his brow, his eyes full of confusion. “Why would I be mad?”

“I promise I’m not pulling away. I just-“

“Sweetie, it’s okay to focus on work right now.”

“Right, but I just want to make sure you’ll still be around when I get back.”

Shawn squeezed his fingers and smiled slightly. “I’m not going anywhere, love. When you’re ready, I’ll be right there by your side again.”

Art nodded, suppressing the desire to beg Shawn to come with him. How was he not freaking out right now? Or did he just hide it well? Were they both putting on a front and bullshitting each other that they were stronger than they actually were? This would be the longest they would be apart since the California trip in the spring.

Shawn traced the veins on the back of Art’s hand, trying to hide how terrified he was. If he was calm and collected about this, making a fuss and hysterics on his end wouldn’t help at all. Or was Art terrified too? Doubtful, he was always level headed. “I’ll be home by the twelfth at the latest, okay?”

“Don’t rush home just for me. If you want to stay on for California, go for it. It’s okay to have fun without me.” Art replied smoothly.

“When I figure out what I want to do, I’ll let you know. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds great, babe.”

Art’s heart almost stopped when his flight was called. He wasn’t ready to be alone. Please don’t let go of my hand. Come with me. Or we can stay here, just don’t leave me alone! “Alright, I should go.”

Please don’t leave, please don’t leave. Fuck, take me with you. You’re more important. I don’t like being away from you! “Alright baby. Call me as soon as you land, okay?”

“I love you,” Art breathed.

“I love you,” Shawn smiled, kissing him sweetly. “I’ll talk to you later today.”

Art nodded before hugging Tre, who wished him a safe flight home and to let them know if he needed anything at all.

Shawn stood with his dad, watching as Art got his ticket scanned and waved one more time before disappearing down the hall. He felt like he was going to faint, wiping at his eyes, trying and failing to keep it together.

“You’ll see him when you get home, bud.” His dad reassured him, holding him as he shook, trying to fight off an anxiety attack.

***
Shawn sat alone in the quiet apartment, tracing the key in the palm of his hand. September seventeenth would forever be the date etched in his memory as the day his boyfriend gave him a key to his apartment. It was a simple but incredibly sweet gesture and a great gift to return home to after almost a month on a tour bus.

He had gone against his better judgment and stayed on the tour with his dad until the Pasadena show just outside of LA. The next morning, instead of getting on the bus and driving six hours north to Oakland, he headed to LAX and got on the first flight to the Greensboro airport he could find. It had been great getting to spend time with his dad and extended family again and everything had gone smoothly, but California wasn’t home, a tour bus wasn’t home. It was wonderful getting to spend quality time with his step mother, who he had always liked because she was understanding and never attempted to fill the void his mother left behind. Repairing his relationships with his dad and step dad felt amazing, but he was ready for some distance again. He had been invited to come out for Christmas again with the promise of not having to stay longer than he wanted and if Art wanted to come he was more than welcome to, but they needed to think on that before agreeing to anything.

He had missed Greensboro in some weird way. When he lived here as a kid with his mom, he hated it. Even when he was in high school here, he hated it; although he hated California too so nowhere felt like home for a long time. But now, it was a pretty enjoyable place. Granted, having Art by his side was a massive help, but here he had freedom to do what he wanted, no painful memories to try and avoid, a nice quiet small bedroom in a small condo. That was all he needed.

After Art had left the tour, Shawn had a few down and out moments and a handful of nightmares, but nothing compared to what they had been in the past. In fact, when he thought about it, since they had met he had become much more stable, at least in the day to day sense. He wasn’t sure why, but it was nice. Even his therapist Jayce was noticing improvements; though he did admit he was still hesitant to change their session schedule or adjust medication doses. And even though their relationships had improved, he still needed to keep his guard up around his father and step father. Anytime he had felt a mental slide coming on, Sara would give him a sketch pad and either tell him to draw how he was feeling or give him an art prompt to work on, or someone would find a task for him to do. Even if it was menial or just a time waster, it was nice to feel like he was accomplishing something and wasn’t just sitting in his own head over thinking things.

Art would be home any minute now, and hopefully would be thrilled to have company. He had been taking every possible shift he could at both jobs, running himself ragged. But in the note in the box the key came in, he had requested his boyfriend join him for ‘a super late night dinner and a much overdue sleepover’. In the meantime while waiting, Shawn had been kind and folded the laundry that was in the small closet dryer, unload the dishwasher, swept, and completed the general housekeeping tasks Art had been too busy to worry about in the past week and a half. He just hoped that would ease any anxiety over trivial things and help him focus.

His phone chimed with a text. Got Taco Hell! On the way beautiful! Find us a movie to watch?

“Who gets Taco Bell before trying to have sex?” Shawn snorted to himself as he settled on the couch and booted up the TV and Roku. Something mindless was a good idea; since he was doubtful they’d be paying much attention to anything but each other.

By the time he had settled on putting on Friends, he heard footsteps coming up the hall and keys jingling, causing his heart to jolt in his chest as he jumped to his feet. The lock turned with a loud click and the door pushed open.

Even though they had talked every night when Art got off work, when their eyes met, it felt like they hadn’t seen each other in months. They both stood stone still in silence, just staring at each other, as if they weren’t sure the other was really there.

Now looking at him, it was visibly clear how exhausted Art was. He clearly hadn’t shaven since before they left on tour, so his usually short goatee was now accompanied by a dark mustache and patchy, dark beard growing in. There were heavy, dark bags under his eyes and he looked like he was ready to collapse. But he was still absolutely gorgeous in his lover’s eyes.

“I’ve missed you so God damn much,” He finally whispered before pushing the door closed and putting the bags of food on the kitchen counter. He quickly closed the space between them in the small apartment and pulled his lover into a vice tight embrace, holding onto him for dear life, trying to control his breathing. “I got the time off. I can leave the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Shawn smiled, squeezing his thin frame tightly. He rested his head against his firm chest and sighed contently. “I missed you so much.”

“Did everything go okay?” Art finally pulled back and looked down at Shawn. “I know you kept saying everything was fine but I was so worried-“

“Everything went fine. I’m fine.” He smiled weakly, trying to be reassuring. He didn’t want Art worrying about him when he needed to worry about his own family situation.

Art stared down into Shawn’s bright blue eyes, searching for a sign of dishonesty that he knew he wouldn’t find. Finally he just nodded before looking away and sighing. “I talked to Dad today. He was having chest pains again last night and lost his balance. He smacked his head on the kitchen counter so Mark took him to the hospital. He’s not sure how long he’ll be there this time.”

“Oh shit…”

“Will you…can we just sit down for awhile?”

The pair made their way to the small bedroom, collapsing on the bed and cuddling up beside each other. After a few minutes of soft whispers back and forth, Art finally closed his eyes and drifted off. Shawn just pulled his closer and kept stroking his blond hair softly, tracing a small circle on the back of his head. He watched him in the soft light of the bedside lamp as his breathing evened out and his nose twitched slightly. After several minutes, he finally admitted defeat to the exhaustion circling his mind and closed his eyes and drifted off as well.

Two hours later, Art’s phone vibrating on the nightstand jerked Shawn out of his light sleep. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but found Art hadn’t budged at all and was still tucked under his arm, fast asleep. His eyes slid over to the buzzing phone and his heart immediately dropped, his blood running cold.

INCOMING CALL: MOTHER

He knew good and well what this call meant, and it wouldn’t be anything Art wanted to hear.