All We Know Is Falling
Day Twenty Five: Simple, Really.
Ian Watkins was unhappy.
He knew this, Sean knew this, but no one else knew this. It was a Monday, and it was time for Ian’s second appointment at the doctors. He had been on Saturday, after he had told Ian about his recent dreams. Ian had just burst out crying, saying he was scared of loosing everything around him. Sean had cried too, because he was scared of loosing Ian to what Sean could only think of as a sea of depression. Ian was loosing everything.
However, Ian and Sean had both promised each other they wouldn’t say a word to anyone else. Sean had to admit that Ian was a good actor. Even with everything being so terrible, he could still have a good time with his friends, or at least convince others that he was.
Ian sat in the small office, his hands together in knots as well as his stomach. The doctor was also uncomfortable; this tweed suit that his wife had bought for him in an attempt to bring him up to fashion was incredibly stiff and annoyingly itchy, and was driving him insane.
Ian looked around the office, for without Sean in there like the first time, he had nowhere to direct his gaze properly. It was made up of four wood panelled walls, which were trying to provide a homely feel, but were failing. Instead, they gave Ian the impression of a cheap model home, trying to look perfect when in fact the real walls were white and cold looking.
The flooring was a deep red carpet. This really did finish the look, as now upon inspection, Ian noted the room looked like a penthouse office. One upon the top floor of some very high building in New York, where the big cats sat, making a million dollars a second for doing nothing but screw the living hell out of the secretary, while photos of the wife in the neat little frame was lying face down on the desk, as if the frame was a camera planted.
Ian woke up from his little dream world, wiped the smirk from his face and stared at the doctor, who had coughed slightly and turned a page on his clipboard. Ian smiled as politely as he could manage.
The doctor moved from his chair to behind his desk, so he could flick through the files and set a new appointment with this client. He could tell that work was going to be high for this one.
Ian looked at the obviously important man behind his desk. He stifled a laugh as he noticed there was a photo frame face down on the desk. The doctor noticed Ian’s gaze, picking up the photo and facing it outwards. Sure enough, it contained a smiling yet proper photo of a mature woman, with permed hair held neatly in place with a fascinator.
“The old lady, she’s got to keep an eye on me, eh?” joked the doctor. “Must have slipped over when me’ secretary… bought in me’ coffee. Funny, really, in’it?”
Ian mumbled a reply, nodding slightly, while staring at the photo still.
Doctor Cox recognised that the guy was getting shifty and uncomfortable, and was still staring at the photo. He looked towards the door as a knock echoed through the room. He yelled a weak “come in”, already wanting to go home.
The doctor’s secretary came in, blonde and bubbly, carrying a tray of coffee and biscuits. Ian stood up, recognising the glances the secretary was using with the doctor. Doctor Cox handed Ian the appointment card, still looking at the secretary. Ian grabbed the card, nodded to the doctor and the lady, and strolled out, laughing to himself. He pulled Sean into a hug, as they made their way out of the building, telling him about what had happened. Sean laughed, but really wanted to know what Ian had talked about today.
When Ian and Sean got back to the flat, Ian collapsed on the bed. He was tired out, and spending an hour and a half with Doctor Cox was not the way he wanted to spend the afternoon. Now, it was only 7 O’clock in the evening, and wanted to cuddle up with Sean and sleep. However, Ian knew that Sean hated sleeping early, and he also knew that Sean was a bit on edge recently after all that had happened. Ian decided tonight, they were going to into town, and go late-night shopping. When he told Sean of his idea, Sean’s eyes lit up. Ian giggled, simply because he loved shopping. On the way to the car, the couple laughed over how excited Sean was. Ian joked that everyone was going to know Sean had a boyfriend and not a girlfriend, simply because it was too obvious.
It was 8PM, and Ian was already carrying about ten bags, all full of clothes. When Ian had got his credit card out, and given Sean the pin, he really didn’t think Sean would take to it. But after a few shops, Sean had taken to it like a duck to water. Now, not only was he buying clothes for himself, he was buying clothes for Ian too. Sean had gone crazy in Calvin Klein, and had even embarrassed the hell out of the girl who was working there by making Ian try on the incredibly tight boxers. Sean had got about five pairs for himself, and about 3 for Ian. The bill had come to £112, which Sean had just punched the pin in and thought nothing of. Ian laughed. He didn’t really mind at all, he was just happy that Sean was happy.
Ian was unhappy. He knew that, Sean knew that.
But Ian was also happy. He had Sean, and Sean could make anyone happy. Ian knew that, now he just had to convince Sean.
After the clothes shopping, Ian and Sean were both carrying 6 bags each, and had easily spent over £2000. Ian didn’t care. It was all small change in making Sean happy.
Ian took Sean’s hand, and they laced fingers through the string from the bags. He pulled Sean on a sharp left, into the “Bedroom and Living Room” Ikea, the only one open at this time of night in their area. It had only two members of staff working in it, and it was only one floor, because the top floor was closed off after 5PM. They walked out into the Living Room bit, where they found another couple talking about which sofa would look best in their cottage. One, the girl, was really obviously into it, whereas the lad just wanted to get home, “Come on, luv, we can talk about this tomorrow,” he kept on saying, but she was trying to come to a decision now. Ian gripped Sean’s hand, and pulled him onto the nearest sofa. Sean poked Ian, and bounced a bit on the sofa, “This ones really comfy, Ian!” They sat on every sofa in the small part of the store, and Sean said that everyone was comfy, aprt from one which he said was so solid and so cold he felt “like it could give him piles”. Ian pretended to be grossed out, but he didn’t mind. Sean was still happy.
After their half an hour spent in Ikea, trying out the sofas, they walked, hand in hand to the pizzeria on the corner. It was a proper Italian, with European waiters who struggled to understand the Welsh accent, and music playing softly in the background. After much debate with “Jacque”, their waiter for the evening, that there was only two on them on the table, they got a seat outside, on the courtyard. There was a small awning over them, with white, red and green stripes, and the stones on the courtyard were bumpy.
“Whatta cliché…” Sean mumbled as they sat down.
However, none of them argued with the cliché when they got their food. Infact, they pretty much sat in silence, because they were so busy stuffing the pizza and pasta they were sharing into their mouths. Jacque had come and collected their plates, and after struggling to hear what they wanted for dessert, they finally ordered a child’s bowl of ice-cream to share. Sean had wanted sprinkles, but Ian joked that the waiter would probably either be really disgusted at what he thought he would want, or drop his trousers and place his privates on a plate in front of Sean.
When they had finished, the sat, just generally gazing around and playing footsie under the table without even realised. Sean was watching a couple across the court, who were trying to hold back a whispered argument.
“Ian?” Sean broke Ian’s gaze across the restaurant.
“Yeah?”
“We won’t be like that anytime soon, will we?” Sean nodded directionally towards the couple. Ian smiled, “Of course not, sweetie. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You’ve just got a lot on your plate at the moment. I just hope you don’t go crazy but feel you have to act happy for me.”
“Sean! I would never do that. If I were to go crazy, you would be the first to know.” Ian paused, thinking, “In fact, you would be the one to tell me.” Sean laughed lightly. Trust Ian to always make light of everything.
Ian wondered what had made Sean say it, but he could understand it. He had tried to kid himself that tonight was for Sean, to make Sean happy. But he knew that sometimes he was selfish, not very often, but sometimes. Tonight had been one of those nights, even though Ian didn’t mean it to be. He just knew that the one way to make him happy was to make sure Sean was happy. This night had been full of clichés, from the meal, to the waiter, to the conversations, but the biggest cliché of all was that Ian knew that he should be unhappy, but he simply… wasn’t.
He knew this, Sean knew this, but no one else knew this. It was a Monday, and it was time for Ian’s second appointment at the doctors. He had been on Saturday, after he had told Ian about his recent dreams. Ian had just burst out crying, saying he was scared of loosing everything around him. Sean had cried too, because he was scared of loosing Ian to what Sean could only think of as a sea of depression. Ian was loosing everything.
However, Ian and Sean had both promised each other they wouldn’t say a word to anyone else. Sean had to admit that Ian was a good actor. Even with everything being so terrible, he could still have a good time with his friends, or at least convince others that he was.
Ian sat in the small office, his hands together in knots as well as his stomach. The doctor was also uncomfortable; this tweed suit that his wife had bought for him in an attempt to bring him up to fashion was incredibly stiff and annoyingly itchy, and was driving him insane.
Ian looked around the office, for without Sean in there like the first time, he had nowhere to direct his gaze properly. It was made up of four wood panelled walls, which were trying to provide a homely feel, but were failing. Instead, they gave Ian the impression of a cheap model home, trying to look perfect when in fact the real walls were white and cold looking.
The flooring was a deep red carpet. This really did finish the look, as now upon inspection, Ian noted the room looked like a penthouse office. One upon the top floor of some very high building in New York, where the big cats sat, making a million dollars a second for doing nothing but screw the living hell out of the secretary, while photos of the wife in the neat little frame was lying face down on the desk, as if the frame was a camera planted.
Ian woke up from his little dream world, wiped the smirk from his face and stared at the doctor, who had coughed slightly and turned a page on his clipboard. Ian smiled as politely as he could manage.
The doctor moved from his chair to behind his desk, so he could flick through the files and set a new appointment with this client. He could tell that work was going to be high for this one.
Ian looked at the obviously important man behind his desk. He stifled a laugh as he noticed there was a photo frame face down on the desk. The doctor noticed Ian’s gaze, picking up the photo and facing it outwards. Sure enough, it contained a smiling yet proper photo of a mature woman, with permed hair held neatly in place with a fascinator.
“The old lady, she’s got to keep an eye on me, eh?” joked the doctor. “Must have slipped over when me’ secretary… bought in me’ coffee. Funny, really, in’it?”
Ian mumbled a reply, nodding slightly, while staring at the photo still.
Doctor Cox recognised that the guy was getting shifty and uncomfortable, and was still staring at the photo. He looked towards the door as a knock echoed through the room. He yelled a weak “come in”, already wanting to go home.
The doctor’s secretary came in, blonde and bubbly, carrying a tray of coffee and biscuits. Ian stood up, recognising the glances the secretary was using with the doctor. Doctor Cox handed Ian the appointment card, still looking at the secretary. Ian grabbed the card, nodded to the doctor and the lady, and strolled out, laughing to himself. He pulled Sean into a hug, as they made their way out of the building, telling him about what had happened. Sean laughed, but really wanted to know what Ian had talked about today.
When Ian and Sean got back to the flat, Ian collapsed on the bed. He was tired out, and spending an hour and a half with Doctor Cox was not the way he wanted to spend the afternoon. Now, it was only 7 O’clock in the evening, and wanted to cuddle up with Sean and sleep. However, Ian knew that Sean hated sleeping early, and he also knew that Sean was a bit on edge recently after all that had happened. Ian decided tonight, they were going to into town, and go late-night shopping. When he told Sean of his idea, Sean’s eyes lit up. Ian giggled, simply because he loved shopping. On the way to the car, the couple laughed over how excited Sean was. Ian joked that everyone was going to know Sean had a boyfriend and not a girlfriend, simply because it was too obvious.
It was 8PM, and Ian was already carrying about ten bags, all full of clothes. When Ian had got his credit card out, and given Sean the pin, he really didn’t think Sean would take to it. But after a few shops, Sean had taken to it like a duck to water. Now, not only was he buying clothes for himself, he was buying clothes for Ian too. Sean had gone crazy in Calvin Klein, and had even embarrassed the hell out of the girl who was working there by making Ian try on the incredibly tight boxers. Sean had got about five pairs for himself, and about 3 for Ian. The bill had come to £112, which Sean had just punched the pin in and thought nothing of. Ian laughed. He didn’t really mind at all, he was just happy that Sean was happy.
Ian was unhappy. He knew that, Sean knew that.
But Ian was also happy. He had Sean, and Sean could make anyone happy. Ian knew that, now he just had to convince Sean.
After the clothes shopping, Ian and Sean were both carrying 6 bags each, and had easily spent over £2000. Ian didn’t care. It was all small change in making Sean happy.
Ian took Sean’s hand, and they laced fingers through the string from the bags. He pulled Sean on a sharp left, into the “Bedroom and Living Room” Ikea, the only one open at this time of night in their area. It had only two members of staff working in it, and it was only one floor, because the top floor was closed off after 5PM. They walked out into the Living Room bit, where they found another couple talking about which sofa would look best in their cottage. One, the girl, was really obviously into it, whereas the lad just wanted to get home, “Come on, luv, we can talk about this tomorrow,” he kept on saying, but she was trying to come to a decision now. Ian gripped Sean’s hand, and pulled him onto the nearest sofa. Sean poked Ian, and bounced a bit on the sofa, “This ones really comfy, Ian!” They sat on every sofa in the small part of the store, and Sean said that everyone was comfy, aprt from one which he said was so solid and so cold he felt “like it could give him piles”. Ian pretended to be grossed out, but he didn’t mind. Sean was still happy.
After their half an hour spent in Ikea, trying out the sofas, they walked, hand in hand to the pizzeria on the corner. It was a proper Italian, with European waiters who struggled to understand the Welsh accent, and music playing softly in the background. After much debate with “Jacque”, their waiter for the evening, that there was only two on them on the table, they got a seat outside, on the courtyard. There was a small awning over them, with white, red and green stripes, and the stones on the courtyard were bumpy.
“Whatta cliché…” Sean mumbled as they sat down.
However, none of them argued with the cliché when they got their food. Infact, they pretty much sat in silence, because they were so busy stuffing the pizza and pasta they were sharing into their mouths. Jacque had come and collected their plates, and after struggling to hear what they wanted for dessert, they finally ordered a child’s bowl of ice-cream to share. Sean had wanted sprinkles, but Ian joked that the waiter would probably either be really disgusted at what he thought he would want, or drop his trousers and place his privates on a plate in front of Sean.
When they had finished, the sat, just generally gazing around and playing footsie under the table without even realised. Sean was watching a couple across the court, who were trying to hold back a whispered argument.
“Ian?” Sean broke Ian’s gaze across the restaurant.
“Yeah?”
“We won’t be like that anytime soon, will we?” Sean nodded directionally towards the couple. Ian smiled, “Of course not, sweetie. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You’ve just got a lot on your plate at the moment. I just hope you don’t go crazy but feel you have to act happy for me.”
“Sean! I would never do that. If I were to go crazy, you would be the first to know.” Ian paused, thinking, “In fact, you would be the one to tell me.” Sean laughed lightly. Trust Ian to always make light of everything.
Ian wondered what had made Sean say it, but he could understand it. He had tried to kid himself that tonight was for Sean, to make Sean happy. But he knew that sometimes he was selfish, not very often, but sometimes. Tonight had been one of those nights, even though Ian didn’t mean it to be. He just knew that the one way to make him happy was to make sure Sean was happy. This night had been full of clichés, from the meal, to the waiter, to the conversations, but the biggest cliché of all was that Ian knew that he should be unhappy, but he simply… wasn’t.