Justin Mark Campbell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likefatherlikeson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2017-09-17 04:05 pm
likefatherlikeson) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2017-09-17 04:05 pm
"It must have been good, but I lost it somehow."
Who: Justin Campbell and Will Jackson
What: Ghosts from the past...
Where: Broadway, NYC
When: After this
ooc : moar retconning ahoy!
Justin’s training schedule was once again batshit crazy. Not just for him to recondition after faceplanting the stage and nearly dropping dead in front of a sell-out audience, but because he was poised to resume with a new Ariel and Rusty. It was a watch-this-space moment. Auditions for Rusty had happened the day before and Caden was in talks with his team about who would get callbacks. The private auditions for Ariel were the next day, and Justin still wasn’t convinced Cassidy would go through with it. He hoped she did. Not because he wanted her to get the part (even if that would be incredible), but because he knew it would help her emotionally when she had been struggling in her new skin, floundering in her new relationship, and basically not knowing what way was up.
For now, Justin was training with the Ariel understudy who had been holding the role. Rumour had it she was auditioning too, but Justin hoped she didn’t get it. He didn’t like how she hesitated in his lifts every single time they trained and their kisses on stage felt like they had the passion of a dead fish. If you were an actor, you should be able to fucking act. He was as gay as any gay person could be, and he still managed it with a straight chick over and over for months. Or maybe he was just out of sorts with the notion of new cast members joining again. It was never easy. He knew they wouldn’t all be as awesome as Merlin. It scared him, and it took a lot of focus and concentration to stop himself assuming they were all rapists. Not really a welcome anyone deserved, even if they kissed like dead fish.
That morning, his mind was elsewhere. It was with Sasha because when he finished training at lunch time, they were going to be driving up to Boston for the night to visit Andi and spend the night with her folks. Sasha’s nerves had been a little shot that morning and Justin wanted to be home with him, but he still had his work commitments. He was in his training gear with the Footloose insignias and had already worked up a sweat with dance training with dead fish lips lift failure. That ended when he got pissed off when she hesitated one too many time and his diva streak reared its ugly head. “I’m not doing this anymore… fuck’s sake!” he snapped. “Do I look like I’m going to friggen drop you?! You’re going to make me falter because you don’t trust my lifts! How long have I been doing this?! Goddamnit!”
The girl huffed out a sigh, flipping her hair back. “You’ve been sick!” she protested, hand on hip.
Justin held his hand up, the one he was gripping his mic with. He had grabbed it up after he put her back on the ground so he could get to his vocal training. “Don’t. You’re not my bloody doctor. You think you have a chance at this role? Prove it! Just not now. I’m done. Get the lift right for next time, I’m not risking getting injured for you.” He shielded his eyes, looking up to the box above the empty audience. “Did you hear that? No more Ariel training until I know she isn’t going to break my bloody back! Just… put the vocal tracks on. I’m out of here at lunch time.”
The girl left, giving him an annoyed glare that he ignored. He was shaking himself out, trying to re-focus. He still had hurdles. The hospital stay had him ventilated when he was on life support and apparently he was ripping it out of his throat. Although he had lost any speaking voice, there was a weakness in his throat he had to strengthen. He had been downing fluids and had special medication for his throat that kept it lubricated. That was a source of hilarity at the last chill-out sesh with his friends. Sky had a field day with ‘throat lube’. Of course he did. The conversation quickly turned to the subject of deep-throating, which had Sasha turning the same colour as a Maccas fries packet. He put his mic into the stand when the track for his cover of Zombie started to play. It had a wide vocal range and exercised the vocal cords pretty well. At his for his register. It was a song that was often befitting his mood when he teetered between the manic/depressive and one he would listen to a lot when he was still in Chicago, mind spiralling out of control. This and Evanescence. He sipped some water before he started and then got right into it.
“Fuck,” he cursed at the end of it, looking over at his vocal coach sitting on a stool by the piano. “I’m still pitching.” He rested his hands around the microphone, resting his forehead against the ball of it while he did some diaphragm breathing.
“Take it down. Track twelve, boys!” Coach called up to the sound guys in the box.
Justin took the mic from the stand, walking some of the frustration out with some short paces across the front of the stage, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “I’m straining. I feel it here.” He touched his throat just above his clavicle.
“Don’t force through it. We get rid of the pitching in the lower register and work up. The last thing you want, JC, is throat nodules at this age. Your career will be screwed. One more and we’ll take a break.”
Justin nodded, having some more water and flipping the mic through his fingers with his other hand like he always did when he was trying to get back into his zone. It was habit. He always fidgeted when he was trying to ground himself again. Sometimes it could be a sign he was getting manic, but not this time. He was just frustrated at himself that he couldn’t recover more quickly. Coach was right, the last fucking thing he needed was nodules.
He was about to recommence his training when the music started, but it wasn’t track twelve that started. It wasn’t even almost track twelve. Instead, what was playing was It Must Have Been Love by Roxette. He might have an 80s reprisal niche market, but he hadn’t sung this song in a very long time. His nose scrunched up and he was once again shielding his eyes to try to see the guys up in the box with WTF written all over his face. “Are you kidding me? What the fuck is--” He had been speaking into the mic when the lights lifted and what he saw standing in the middle aisle of the audience caused him to fumble the mic, dropping it to the stage and causing a sharp crack and a screech of feedback. He froze, face paling and mouth dropping open. All he could do was stand there and stare.
Will jumped in fright when the lights had suddenly lifted and revealed him. He hadn’t really been standing there too long. Only since just before Justin started bitching out his co-star. He arrived to catch the end of the dance routine and even he had been able to see that she faltered in the lift… something he knew pissed Justin off because being out of sync with a dancer could be disastrous. This wasn’t new. In fact, it was evidence to Will that Justin hadn’t changed. At least, not when it came to his performing. It was way too long since he had last watched him perform live like this and not stalking him through Google to keep up with what he was doing, all the while telling himself he didn’t care.
Like he would never not care.
Then he was nailed in that all-too-familiar blue staredown and he felt like a deer caught in headlights. This was so much easier when he played it out in his head. Contrary to what it might seem, he didn’t have anything to do with the song playing right now. That was somehow Justin’s sound guys pulling the piss or something. They must have spotted him. Of course they had, from the vantage point they had up in the technical box. Just because Justin hadn’t been able to see him until that moment didn’t mean no one could. Then Justin’s vocal coach seemed to back away, making herself scarce too. They weren’t really alone, but it was close enough too. When Justin suddenly sharply put his hand up, the music cut halfway through the song. He was still staring at Will.
Will tried to gulp back the tight lump in his throat. “Is this the part where you kick me out and have me arrested?” Maybe not the time for jokes, but jokes had been the way he and Justin used to cope with so many things. It was automatic. He didn’t know what else to do here. He didn’t know how or where to start.
Justin hadn’t seen Will in many months. Not since that night he hit Sasha. Prior to that, he tried to extend some sort of offer of friendship, but Will hadn’t taken him up on it. Next thing he heard through his dad via Luke was that Will had moved back to Sydney to live with his parents. Just disappeared and lost contact with everyone. By that point, Justin was trying to pick up the pieces of his own shit. Still. Not again. It had been a residual shitstorm of crap since Bondi, but in the process of all that, he had met Sasha, who rescued him from the darkness. His mind was trying to dial back rapidly seeing Will standing there, but all it was feeding him was a scrambled timeline of hurt and pain. There was probably a part of him that want to scream at him to get out and go fuck himself, but it wasn’t winning out. Quite possibly because he didn’t want nodules on his throat. Or possibly because he didn’t really want to. He was quite possible a lot of things in that moment.
He blinked, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, but he couldn’t break the stare. Absentmindedly he was trying to buy time, but for what? This shouldn’t be happening. He was pretty sure for months now he would never see Will again. Not once he heard Will had cut ties with everyone else too, including Layla. He stopped caring, just like it felt Will had stopped caring about him months prior. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this?
Justin’s silence was painful. Will felt awkward and knew he was also coiled up, expecting Sasha to appear from the wings of the stage. He feared that, facing the poor guy again. Chances were, though, Justin would resume the restraining order and never let him within a ten mile radius of Sasha. It wasn’t out of the question. Justin had a lot of connections. Justin was unreadable. There was shock, but Will couldn’t identify anything else. That was hard too. He used to know Justin so well and be able to read his emotional shifts. There was no shift, just the tongue on his lips and sharp staredown that didn’t falter. “I-I can go. I’m sorry, I… I’ve been trying to rehearse this… figure out what to say… m-my… Luke arranged for me to be able to visit. W-With your security folk and…” He swallowed again and then fell silent. He sounded like a dick. Fitting, because he was a dick. A dick he wanted to make up for.
Justin knew if he didn’t speak, he was going to burst into tears. And he fucking hated that. He had told himself for a long time that if he ever saw Will again, he would kick his arse for hurting Sasha, but there was no anger. Just something again to wounded pain of old memories being dredged up. Memories that never had closure, they just cut off without anything. Eventually, his closure came in bringing Sasha into his life, finding love again, healing, learning that he did deserve to be loved, that he wasn’t so damaged he was completely unlovable… how he had felt when Will shat all over what they had by just disappearing and dropping their relationship like a steaming hot turd. The hand he had held up to get the sounds guys to shut the fucking music off had now balled into a fist. His other hand was gripped around his microphone so hard the bedazzled rhinestones were digging into his skin. “What do you want?” finally came out, croaky, hoarse, choked. It didn’t sound like his voice at all.
“To talk.” Will hesitated for a moment or two. “To start to talk,” he corrected. None of this would ever be resolved in one talk. He also didn’t want Justin to think he was barking orders at him because beneath this roof and other roofs alike, he had a lot of power. One snap of his fingers and Will could be stormed upon by a full security unit and dragged away in a cop car. He wasn’t convinced that wouldn’t happen. Justin hadn’t moved. His feet were rooted to the stage and his eyes hadn’t shifted from Will at all.
With that, Justin’s face crumbled into a mix of pain, frustration and a little anger. It was scrunched up, eyes narrowing, lips pulling into what seemed to be a sneer. He was having flashback feelings to his mom coming back, and at least that had worked out. Eventually. Or was working out. It was an ongoing process. He wasn’t quite sure he was medicated enough for this. In the end, he was just standing there, slowly scratching his forehead as he watched Will. “Right.”
“Justin.” Justin looked over to where his name had come from and found Caden standing to the side of the stage. “Are you right, kiddo?” he asked, eyebrows raised a little as he glanced beyond the stage to Will.
Justin’s tongue rested between his lips as he contemplated the query. He surprised himself when he nodded. “I, um… have you made a decision on the Rusty callbacks?” he asked, glancing at Will again before looking back to Caden.
“That can wait. There’s one particular person who auditioned that I want a word with you about before we proceed,” Caden explained.
There was something cagey about Caden, like he had his hackles up in protection. But he did that, protected Justin. It was to be expected. He made that pact with Justin’s dad long ago. “Please… fucking tell me it’s no one from my past come back to haunt me,” he pleaded, a little moan of helplessness in his tone. It said a lot for how he was feeling right now.
Will was biting his lip, expecting Caden to throw him out. Caden always had this powerful presence to him, and rightfully so. He was a fucking bajillionaire or something and owned this show. He could throw anyone out that he wanted with a good arse-kicking if he felt like it. He was poised for it. This could be make or break. If Justin didn’t want to do this, WIll might not get another chance to get near him. He heard Justin had new staff. A new carer, even. Some hot blonde dude who lingered in the background of photos like a Mafia boss. He looked like he could play a hot version of Draco Malfoy, and as a result, Will had his personality pegged like Malfoy too. Not that he knew the guy, but he did wonder about him. What had led to it. He had only found one interview about Justin who referenced a new carer, but no further information.
“That wouldn’t happen, kiddo. All cards on the table, remember? I think you’ll be pleased with this one, but we can do that when you get back from Boston. What time are you leaving?” Caden asked.
“Just around lunch. Whenever I finish here. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me about it now?” Justin asked. There was the merest of glances at Will, but it was so quick, you could have missed it.
Was Justin trying to scramble for an excuse not talk to Will? Will just didn’t know. It was eating him up inside that he no longer could read Justin. Not his facial feature, not his tone of voice, not his body language. It used to be second-nature. “Listen, I can just… go…” he spoke up, pointing over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”
“Wait,” Justin said, stopping him.
Caden cleared his throat and gave a little wave of his fingers. “This can wait until Monday, kiddo. We’ll talk about all the callbacks then. You going to be right here?”
“Yeah.” Justin was putting his mic back on the stand. Or trying to, at least. It was like he was all thumbs, taking a couple of attempt to lock it into the ring. “But you can tell them to get rid of that fucking song from the library.” Caden gave him a little knowing smirk and then was gone. It wasn’t long now until Caden’s wedding. It was going to be some destination, two part wedding that incorporated Tristan’s Buddhist customs. Knowing all the people they knew, it wouldn’t exactly be classified as ‘intimate’, but it would be far from a flashy affair. He pulled his hoodie on over his tank top, back to Will as he did. Then he picked up his drink bottle and walked to the side of the stage so he could head through to the stairs down into the audience. The soft squeaks of his Converse high-tops were usually swallowed up my music but the theatre was in silence now and the footfalls were prominent. Soon, he was down at Will’s level and came up to him. “I’m not rehashing. It’s taken a hell of a lot for me to get back to a place I can cope again. My head spends enough time rehashing past all on its own. I won’t do it voluntarily.” He sat down in one of the seats in the front row and had some more water that was laced with aloe vera juice to also help his throat. It didn’t taste the best, but you had to suffer for your art.
After some hesitation, not sure he was allowed, Will sat in the seat beside Justin. He nearly laughed when Justin requested the song be removed from the library. Because that was familiar. Justin’s diva streak. It wasn’t really diva, it was just his form of diva. He quickly tired of people being basic when he was working hard and his patience frayed. It was pretty notorious, but amusing with everyone who knew him. Will had to admit to himself that when he moved on from the anger in the grief cycle of losing everyone he loved, and losing his relationship, he played that song on repeat for too many times than was healthy. Because it was true. He had been angry at Justin for ending things at first, until it hit him that he deserved it. Justin never deserved getting hurt in the way Will hurt him. That was what made today so hard. “Are you, um, going to Boston to visit Sasha?”
Justin slowly swallowed the mouthful he had. “Sash lives here now.” He gave Will a sideways glance. “With me.” He exhaled slowly and was chewing the corner of his lip, eyes on the ornate fascia of the stage in front of them. He started to bounce his leg without realising it because he was feeling a little trapped here, but he always felt that with a blindsiding. If he had been asked if Will could see him in advance, he wouldn’t have said yes. Will wasn’t dumb, he would have known this. That didn’t suddenly stop Justin’s anxiety from trying to kick in. The plain in simple phenomenon here was that he just didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to feel. And through all that, he was worrying how Sasha would take this when he was already feeling a little fragile this week missing Andi.
“Oh. Well, that’s… that’s pretty cool.” Will was sure it was just dumb coming out of his mouth. Or contrived BS, which he knew Justin hated. He hated false platitudes with a burning passion, but that wasn’t what Will meant with it. He stumbled over the words because what Justin said was suddenly a big clue that he had grown up a lot recently, and Will found his eyes drawn to Justin. His face, his appearance. Nothing was too visibly different, but there was something in his face that seemed more grown up than last time they were in each other’s presence. “You’ve lost weight,” he added without thinking about it. Justin had covered up a little with his hoodie now, but prior to that, he was only in track pants and a tank top. It was subconscious for Will to log how he looked.
“I was in hospital for awhile,” Justin replied. He had only been on IV nutrition the whole time he was unconscious and even then, he hadn’t eaten a lot when he woke. He had been so sick with the Serotonin Syndrome that even since all that, he had only been eating smaller meals and mostly then, it was so he could take his medication. His phone trilled with a text message, so he rested his water bottle between his knees and took his phone out to check who it was. It gave him a distraction he needed. This felt so strange and awkward. It was only Presley proposing a booking for him. His eyes briefly skimmed the details, and he flicked back a quick reply telling Presley to email him the event’s schedule for more information. He put his phone back in his pocket, exhaling deeply.
Will nodded, licking his lips. “I know. I mean, um… I know from Luke now. Not the whole story, though. He just said you had been sick and in the ICU, so he told me to hold off coming to see you. Before that, I read online that you collapsed on stage and it was pretty scary. They didn’t say what it was, just that you did and were rushed to hospital. I couldn’t see anywhere confirming what it was. Lot’s of dumb fan speculation, but what else is new?” He picked at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans. “That pretty much told me it had to be bad. I know your PR folk never release a lot of details when you’re in a bad way.” He did still know. He knew everything, he didn’t forget any of it. Even if they weren’t together anymore, he would never be able to just unthink everything he knew or erase the memories. He didn’t want to either. Not anymore. At first, he wished he could. “Did you… was it an attempt?” There was always a chance here Justin would tell him to shut the fuck up because it was none of his business. The part that hurt was that he would be right.
Justin shook his head, tugging his lips to the side. “Not this time. It was a really dangerous medication reaction. They were trying something new and it made me feel sick and throw up, so they added something to stop me being sick, and it interacted in a bad way. It’s called Serotonin Syndrome. Nearly killed me, but hey, what else is new? I’m just glad it happened at the end of the show during curtain call rather than right in the middle of it. Why are you here?” he finally added, now looking at Will directly, waiting for him to explain. It was eating into his training session, but he was okay with that. Maybe this needed to happen and now was as good a time as any. The when didn’t matter. It would still be hard as ever loving fuck to face. Really hard. So hard, he felt a churny sick feeling in his gut. He knew it was anxiety.
“It’s not, like, a twelve step program or anything. I get that’s what you must been thinking. No one’s putting me up to it or telling me I need to do it for therapy for anything. I’ve wanted to do it for awhile now. Pretty much as soon as I accepted how much of a cunt I’d been to you. And to Layla. And to Sasha. And to Luke. To everyone I cared about, really. I wish I had a big long reasoning and justification of why it happened, but I don’t and that wouldn’t be fair anyway. It happened, and whatever I turned into back then, I hate. I still hate myself a lot, but I’m trying to turn back into myself. If that makes sense?” Will paused, forehead creasing when he met Justin’s gaze. “Things got to a point where this horrible fear cancer would catch up with me overtook everything, and then it morphed into this dangerous mix of me feeling like I would never be good enough to care for you the way you needed it. For a long time, I convinced myself it was because I was a kid and out of my depth, but I still tried. Only now, I know it’s all utter bullshut because apparently Sasha manages it. The truth is, I was just an arsehole making excuses for my insecurities and that made me hurt you in the worst possible ways. It destroyed us, and why I’m here is… I want to say sorry. You don’t have to accept it, but I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for all I did and didn’t do when I promised you time and time again I would. Your illness had been getting worse and I had to grow the fuck up and step up, not act like an arsehole and abandon you when you were at your worst.”
Justin stayed quiet for long enough that it probably felt like awkward silence. It wasn’t. All he was doing was processing what Will was saying, because no matter how much he had been hurt and how much he hated how it all ended, they had still been together a long time. They had still loved each other. He still thought Will was a good person, deep down inside beyond all the hurt he was causing. “Thank you,” he soon murmured. He was glad Will was respecting his wishes here and not rehashing or dredging up what all happened. He was just taking responsibility for it and apologising, and that did mean a lot to Justin. He appreciated it and he was grateful for it. “This must’ve taken a hell of a lot of balls for you to do. I never thought I’d see you again. Once you just fucked off and then I heard you moved back to Australia. It was all very final. I don’t regret what we had. I haven’t forgotten all the good. I think it was just time to end so I could breathe again.”
Will gave him a wry smile. “About one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life, and I beat cancer. This is worse than all the chemo collectively. In difficulty, I mean. I expected you to tell me to go fuck myself. I was a total wuss not just contacting you and asking if we could talk, so I’m sorry for that too. I didn’t want to give myself any ways to chicken out. He’s… I’ve read about you and Sasha. The official stuff, like. Interviews, sound bites where you mention him, seen him in photos with you. I know he sings with you now. Back-up with Maryanne for charity stuff. Does he make you happy? Because I know I stopped awhile ago and I didn’t try to fix it. Not even when you actually told me you didn’t know how to be happy anymore.”
“Yeah, really happy,” Justin confirmed with a fleeting smile. “He’s a complex soul. I don’t want you thinking what he does is indicative of what you failed at. There’s a lot of reasons why Sash and I work the way we do. It’s got nothing to do with the fact he knows how to take care of me and you don’t. You did. For a long time. Then you stopped. That’s what went wrong. He doesn’t care better than you do. Care is care. There’s no wrong way to do it. He’s an onion boy, lots of layers. If things hadn’t been so shit, I know you would’ve gotten along well with him. Pain teaches you life shit, and he’s had a lot of pain. He has a good friend who’s moved here now. He’s a cancer survivor too. Zeke. You’d have a lot in common with him. He’s actually Shannon’s cousin. It can be a small world sometimes. Are you back permanently, or just for a visit?”
Will listened closely. He noted the way Justin was choosing to say things. There wasn’t any filtering or signs he was trying to keep Will’s nose out of his business. But he was being purposefully vague for a reason and Will was pretty sure it was Justin trying to protect him. That was a massive thing, it wasn’t lost on him. But he was at a place now where it didn’t feel like agony hearing Justin talk about his new love. He actually wanted to know more about the guy who stepped up when he dropped the ball, and the ways he made Justin happen. Maybe in time. At this point, he knew there was a very real chance he wouldn’t be invited back into the squad fold and if not, it would be something he would have to deal with and accept. It would just be hard, considering he was returning to their school on Monday. “Even if I didn’t want to admit it back then, I knew if he had gotten close enough to you that you were falling in love with him, he had to be something incredibly special. And I… I was jealous. So jealous. It was eating me alive. I hated him for no reason other than he had you and I didn’t, no matter how much I also knew I threw it away. Stupid shit like jealousy stops you thinking like a normal rational person. Turns you into a flaming dickhead. I hated that he was doing what I failed at. I was messed up and had to accept that I needed help after I destroyed everything. I owe him apologies just as much as I do you, if you ever let me near him. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. I’m here permanently, on conditions, of course. If I fuck up again, I’m on the next plane back to Sydney. Luke split up with Haley and he’s got custody of Milo, so I’m living with him to help out. Going back to school here on Monday. But I’ll avoid Sasha if you need me to.”
Justin shook his head. “You don’t need to do that. He’s a strong person, he doesn’t need me drawing his battlelines. He might not want to be near you, he can decide that much for himself. But… honestly, that’s not the sort of person he is. Even if he doesn’t like it, he won’t give you the cold shoulder. The bigger question is, can you handle seeing me with him? He’s my Plus One, he’s always around. We’re both always with our friends, if you’re back and we’re moving in the same circles, it won’t be avoidable and I can’t dilute my relationship to spare your feelings, I’m sorry. I’m a stronger person now because of him. I just wanted to pre-warn you of that. Everything’s different now. Our squad has grown, we’re interlinked with friends and family all over the place. Sash and I live with my sister and her three friends from San Francisco. My apartment was renovated into our own quarters connected to Dad and Mom. My dad’s been sick too, so my grandparents are staying with us indefinitely. Oh, yeah, and my folks are getting married again.”
Luke warned Will about this sort of stuff. He didn’t go into details because he wasn’t aware of the logistics himself. His own life had been crazy just trying to keep his head above water with his divorce and custody arrangements. He knew some, but mostly only secondhand talking to people at the bar. Will’s big brother had issued him that gentle warning, to not step back into this thinking anything was the same anymore. To not even expect Justin or Layla to be the same, the two people Will most desperately wanted to mend things with. But he had told Will that the friends group had expanded a lot and most of them went to the same school, save for Harry who was at Joffrey, Justin who was home-schooled, and those who were in first year college. “A lot of heavy stuff going down for you. Are you okay? Like, well and that right now? Luke said your dad’s been in a wheelchair. I heard you’re having some throat issues. Not to mention a dumb bitch who doesn’t trust you to lift. How is she even here if she doesn’t trust the King of Footloose to lift right? I can handle all of that, I promise you. Especially knowing you’re dating Sasha now. I’ve done a lot of growing up and getting my shit together. I had no choice. Dad was even threatening to have me join the Army if I didn’t sort out my attitude and plans to get my shit together. And I did. But that’s a whole other crazy story in itself.” The share-house sounded like epic fun, if they were all just as fun as their other friends always had been when they got together. But it was understandably complicated and Will knew he had a lot of catching up to do. He was just relieved as all fuck right now Justin talking to him and not shoving him away. He seemed open to his returned presence, and that was huge. “Was it a mindfuck meeting your mom’s daughter she gave up for adoption?”
“So much shit has gone down recently, I’m still trying to recover from it. Dad has something called Guillain-Barré syndrome. It’s an autoimmune illness where his nerves are attacked by his own immune system. It’s fucked with his functions, but he can recover from it. It just takes time. He’s getting better, just has bad days. Then my mom came back, which was a whole other level of mindfuck. It’s just been a bit of a horrible year in a lot of ways. Or a lot of a horrible year. Not everything, though. There’s been a lot of nice and amazing stuff in between it. But I’m okay, I guess. Getting there. Take the good days with the bad days and all that. If you mean mentally, it’s up and down. You know how it goes…” And Will did know that, Justin hadn’t forgotten that either. “Why is it a crazy story? I can tell you’ve been, like, working out or something. I’ve shrunk and you’ve mutated into Thor. Blowing off steam in the gym? I distinctly remember that going to shit for you last time you were here. Going like a fucking bat out of hell and nearly killing yourself, convincing yourself you were dying again. Meeting Amarlie was a bit of a mindfuck at first because I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was a crazed stalker fan and I flipped my shit at her when she tried to talk to me. But now it’s awesome. We’re crazy close. Her friends are way cool too. Blaize Lamont is one of them. The trans YouTuber.”
“Your mom?! I thought she got chucked in jail for decades,” Will squeaked, looking at Justin in horror.
Justin shook his head. “Not that evil cunt. She’s not my mom. I don’t care if she rots in there and they shit down the mouth of her corpse. My mom. Gen. They got divorced and she went away to France. They’re back together now, though. Getting married at Hayman Island in November. My life has been a whole series of shit I don’t really know how I’m supposed to deal with this last year.”
Will was relieved to hear Justin correct that. He had been pretty sure some of the Dad Squad had united to make sure Justin’s abusers were dealt with. Mark, Euan, and probably Clint was involved. He had been around when the court case with his mom was going down, and the one where that Paul cunt had been sent down too. Mark would murder anyone with his bare hands who tried to resurrect that trauma for Justin. “That’s awesome, though. It hit you hard when that got messed up. Feeling like your family is back together again and all that.” He gave Justin a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I was a whole other level of dickhead. I definitely didn’t repeat those mistakes. I started swimming, with a professional trainer and all that. Then he helped me work towards getting my Bronze Medallion for Surf Live Saving. I channelled a lot of my feelings into that and it really helped me get my shit back together again. Seeing what happened to you at Bondi is really what instigated it. When I saw how they saved your life, it made me realise my life had shit all meaning. Or shit all purpose. I wanted to write, I knew that. But until that turned into anything significant, I was just existing. Once you have a purpose, it’s amazing how life starts to make more sense. But, um… you should know, my trainer was Kade. Your uncle’s partner. They have a long distance relationship or something? My folks hired him when he came highly recommended.”
Justin’s eyebrows shot up at this. “Kade? He…” He stopped, shifting in the seat. “Yeah, he was the one who saved my life at the beach that day. Gold Medallist in swimming, so you had the best. Uncle Alec lives here now, and Kade stays here during the Australian off-season. That’s pretty awesome that you did that. You’re right. Purpose is something vital to a meaningful life. Some people have none and they wonder why they’re so miserable all the time. But purpose isn’t something people hand to you on a platter. You have to work to achieve it, and keep working on it. Just like anything worthy in life, I guess. You’re not writing anymore? This life saving thing is what you want to do now?”
Will laughed, nodding. “Yeah, in the early days, he worked my arse so hard. He told me if I was going to slack off, I’d be a failure for the rest of my life. You couldn’t get anything sitting around being a lump day in, day out, doing nothing and complaining you’ve got nothing. Sitting there like a wounded victim bitching no one was doing everything for me. Then blaming other people for it, like some twat with self-entitlement complex. You’re only entitled to what you work for and nurture. If you stop that and lose it, it’s only your head it’s on, no one else’s. Honestly, it was the kick up the arse I needed. Total reality check. I still want to write, but I’ve had an emotional block to it. At least, to anything worth writing. I started journalling, like you do and that helped me not lose the skill completely. I think I’d like to do both, maybe? Like, still be a writer and maybe get published some day, but in the meantime, be a swimming teacher or something. I want to finish my book, but I think the block to writing would always be there as long as I didn’t make amends with you and everyone here. Get closure, apologise for being a dick. Have an up close and personal reminder of everything you achieve and work for, no matter how hard shit gets for you. And I come here, and it’s exactly the first thing I see. New Rusty?”
Justin could hear the way Will was explaining this that it wasn’t just lip-service. They were tough lessons Will had to learn or his life would forever be a fuck-up. No one else should have to make your life better for you if you weren’t even willing to try yourself. He couldn’t think of anything worse than just existing as a lump with no purpose. He would literally rather end his life that live it like that. “Then I guess it’s welcome back. Not to New York, but to yourself. No one is ever a lost cause until they actively decide to throw in the towel for good and stop trying. I know they can’t have been easy lessons to learn.” He had another drink and capped the bottle again. “Rusty and Ariel. Rusty has just been shared between three understudies, so Caden wants it permanently filled. Autumn left for some role on TV. Did you hear Reecy’s gone to Dirty Dancing? She’s Baby now, and she and Kyan are dating. It’s hard. Having new people come on board freaks me out. That other chick, she’s been working with my Ren understudy more than me. I’ve been doing these routines for fucking ages and she still thinks I’ll fuck it up.”
His phone started to ring in his pocket with the When You Say Nothing At All ringtone he had set for Sasha. He took it out and answered it. “Hey, baby. You okay?” He listened to Sasha’s answer and nodded, even if he couldn’t see him. “I can just finish up here and you can pick me up outside. I’ll take a shower when we get to Boston. My bag’s all packed.” He sat forward in the seat when Sasha continued, listening to him closely. “I can come to the cemetery with you if you want me to. It’s your call… You don’t have to decide now. Think about it on the trip… Out the front in half an hour then? I’m pretty much done. Grab Dory’s lead and food too… Okay. Love you, see you soon.”
Will had sat quietly, trying not to eavesdrop, but it was hard with Justin right beside him. He hadn’t stepped away to take the call, so Will assumed he didn’t mind him hearing. “You have to go?” he asked quietly. He had just gotten comfortable chatting with Justin, feeling like he was making some leeway.
Justin nodded. “I do, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s the first time Sash is visiting Andi since he left Boston, and the first time seeing her parents again so it’s pretty heavy. Sorry, I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now, but maybe we could meet up again soon for a coffee?” He brought up his schedule on his phone to see what he had booked in this week. There was a lot of green this week, which indicated his medical appointments, and yellow with training sessions. “I can do Tuesday afternoon before dinner. And, um, well, all us lot hang out a lot these days, so maybe you can come along next time? If that’s what you want, I mean.”
Will smiled, eyes glancing at the schedule app Justin was consulting on his phone. It looked like a rainbow as he scrolled the days, clearly it was colour-coded for all Justin’s commitments now so he could see at a glance what was happening. Justin always dealt better when he was in control of what was happening around him. “I’d like that. After school? Unless you hang with Sasha?” A glimmer of hope was building inside him when Justin mentioned their friends, and inviting Will back into their fold. It wouldn’t be as easy as that, he knew, but it was a start, and that was more than he could have hoped for. “Yeah, if they would be okay with that. I don’t want to rock up and make everyone feel weird.”
“Sash spends Tuesdays with his folks. I think the only way you can make everyone feel weird is if you rock up and start swinging punches again,” Justin said with a hint of a smirk as he stood and put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m not the only one you need to make amends with, though. So, I guess it’ll depend on that. Sorry I couldn’t give you more today. I just… I need time, you know?”
Will stood too with a nod. “I do. I get it. Trust me, this is more than I hoped for. You listened. I didn’t expect you to. I hope Sasha’s okay in Boston. Sounds like some tough shit he’s working through too.” He held his hand out for Justin to shake, even if that felt surreal and weird.
Justin looked at Will’s hand and after a moment or two, took it and gave it a companionable shake. “See you Tuesday then. Good luck with going back to school.” With a little smile, Justin gave Will a nod and disappeared back through the doors to back stage.
LOG, COMPLETE
What: Ghosts from the past...
Where: Broadway, NYC
When: After this
ooc : moar retconning ahoy!
Justin’s training schedule was once again batshit crazy. Not just for him to recondition after faceplanting the stage and nearly dropping dead in front of a sell-out audience, but because he was poised to resume with a new Ariel and Rusty. It was a watch-this-space moment. Auditions for Rusty had happened the day before and Caden was in talks with his team about who would get callbacks. The private auditions for Ariel were the next day, and Justin still wasn’t convinced Cassidy would go through with it. He hoped she did. Not because he wanted her to get the part (even if that would be incredible), but because he knew it would help her emotionally when she had been struggling in her new skin, floundering in her new relationship, and basically not knowing what way was up.
For now, Justin was training with the Ariel understudy who had been holding the role. Rumour had it she was auditioning too, but Justin hoped she didn’t get it. He didn’t like how she hesitated in his lifts every single time they trained and their kisses on stage felt like they had the passion of a dead fish. If you were an actor, you should be able to fucking act. He was as gay as any gay person could be, and he still managed it with a straight chick over and over for months. Or maybe he was just out of sorts with the notion of new cast members joining again. It was never easy. He knew they wouldn’t all be as awesome as Merlin. It scared him, and it took a lot of focus and concentration to stop himself assuming they were all rapists. Not really a welcome anyone deserved, even if they kissed like dead fish.
That morning, his mind was elsewhere. It was with Sasha because when he finished training at lunch time, they were going to be driving up to Boston for the night to visit Andi and spend the night with her folks. Sasha’s nerves had been a little shot that morning and Justin wanted to be home with him, but he still had his work commitments. He was in his training gear with the Footloose insignias and had already worked up a sweat with dance training with dead fish lips lift failure. That ended when he got pissed off when she hesitated one too many time and his diva streak reared its ugly head. “I’m not doing this anymore… fuck’s sake!” he snapped. “Do I look like I’m going to friggen drop you?! You’re going to make me falter because you don’t trust my lifts! How long have I been doing this?! Goddamnit!”
The girl huffed out a sigh, flipping her hair back. “You’ve been sick!” she protested, hand on hip.
Justin held his hand up, the one he was gripping his mic with. He had grabbed it up after he put her back on the ground so he could get to his vocal training. “Don’t. You’re not my bloody doctor. You think you have a chance at this role? Prove it! Just not now. I’m done. Get the lift right for next time, I’m not risking getting injured for you.” He shielded his eyes, looking up to the box above the empty audience. “Did you hear that? No more Ariel training until I know she isn’t going to break my bloody back! Just… put the vocal tracks on. I’m out of here at lunch time.”
The girl left, giving him an annoyed glare that he ignored. He was shaking himself out, trying to re-focus. He still had hurdles. The hospital stay had him ventilated when he was on life support and apparently he was ripping it out of his throat. Although he had lost any speaking voice, there was a weakness in his throat he had to strengthen. He had been downing fluids and had special medication for his throat that kept it lubricated. That was a source of hilarity at the last chill-out sesh with his friends. Sky had a field day with ‘throat lube’. Of course he did. The conversation quickly turned to the subject of deep-throating, which had Sasha turning the same colour as a Maccas fries packet. He put his mic into the stand when the track for his cover of Zombie started to play. It had a wide vocal range and exercised the vocal cords pretty well. At his for his register. It was a song that was often befitting his mood when he teetered between the manic/depressive and one he would listen to a lot when he was still in Chicago, mind spiralling out of control. This and Evanescence. He sipped some water before he started and then got right into it.
“Fuck,” he cursed at the end of it, looking over at his vocal coach sitting on a stool by the piano. “I’m still pitching.” He rested his hands around the microphone, resting his forehead against the ball of it while he did some diaphragm breathing.
“Take it down. Track twelve, boys!” Coach called up to the sound guys in the box.
Justin took the mic from the stand, walking some of the frustration out with some short paces across the front of the stage, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “I’m straining. I feel it here.” He touched his throat just above his clavicle.
“Don’t force through it. We get rid of the pitching in the lower register and work up. The last thing you want, JC, is throat nodules at this age. Your career will be screwed. One more and we’ll take a break.”
Justin nodded, having some more water and flipping the mic through his fingers with his other hand like he always did when he was trying to get back into his zone. It was habit. He always fidgeted when he was trying to ground himself again. Sometimes it could be a sign he was getting manic, but not this time. He was just frustrated at himself that he couldn’t recover more quickly. Coach was right, the last fucking thing he needed was nodules.
He was about to recommence his training when the music started, but it wasn’t track twelve that started. It wasn’t even almost track twelve. Instead, what was playing was It Must Have Been Love by Roxette. He might have an 80s reprisal niche market, but he hadn’t sung this song in a very long time. His nose scrunched up and he was once again shielding his eyes to try to see the guys up in the box with WTF written all over his face. “Are you kidding me? What the fuck is--” He had been speaking into the mic when the lights lifted and what he saw standing in the middle aisle of the audience caused him to fumble the mic, dropping it to the stage and causing a sharp crack and a screech of feedback. He froze, face paling and mouth dropping open. All he could do was stand there and stare.
Will jumped in fright when the lights had suddenly lifted and revealed him. He hadn’t really been standing there too long. Only since just before Justin started bitching out his co-star. He arrived to catch the end of the dance routine and even he had been able to see that she faltered in the lift… something he knew pissed Justin off because being out of sync with a dancer could be disastrous. This wasn’t new. In fact, it was evidence to Will that Justin hadn’t changed. At least, not when it came to his performing. It was way too long since he had last watched him perform live like this and not stalking him through Google to keep up with what he was doing, all the while telling himself he didn’t care.
Like he would never not care.
Then he was nailed in that all-too-familiar blue staredown and he felt like a deer caught in headlights. This was so much easier when he played it out in his head. Contrary to what it might seem, he didn’t have anything to do with the song playing right now. That was somehow Justin’s sound guys pulling the piss or something. They must have spotted him. Of course they had, from the vantage point they had up in the technical box. Just because Justin hadn’t been able to see him until that moment didn’t mean no one could. Then Justin’s vocal coach seemed to back away, making herself scarce too. They weren’t really alone, but it was close enough too. When Justin suddenly sharply put his hand up, the music cut halfway through the song. He was still staring at Will.
Will tried to gulp back the tight lump in his throat. “Is this the part where you kick me out and have me arrested?” Maybe not the time for jokes, but jokes had been the way he and Justin used to cope with so many things. It was automatic. He didn’t know what else to do here. He didn’t know how or where to start.
Justin hadn’t seen Will in many months. Not since that night he hit Sasha. Prior to that, he tried to extend some sort of offer of friendship, but Will hadn’t taken him up on it. Next thing he heard through his dad via Luke was that Will had moved back to Sydney to live with his parents. Just disappeared and lost contact with everyone. By that point, Justin was trying to pick up the pieces of his own shit. Still. Not again. It had been a residual shitstorm of crap since Bondi, but in the process of all that, he had met Sasha, who rescued him from the darkness. His mind was trying to dial back rapidly seeing Will standing there, but all it was feeding him was a scrambled timeline of hurt and pain. There was probably a part of him that want to scream at him to get out and go fuck himself, but it wasn’t winning out. Quite possibly because he didn’t want nodules on his throat. Or possibly because he didn’t really want to. He was quite possible a lot of things in that moment.
He blinked, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, but he couldn’t break the stare. Absentmindedly he was trying to buy time, but for what? This shouldn’t be happening. He was pretty sure for months now he would never see Will again. Not once he heard Will had cut ties with everyone else too, including Layla. He stopped caring, just like it felt Will had stopped caring about him months prior. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this?
Justin’s silence was painful. Will felt awkward and knew he was also coiled up, expecting Sasha to appear from the wings of the stage. He feared that, facing the poor guy again. Chances were, though, Justin would resume the restraining order and never let him within a ten mile radius of Sasha. It wasn’t out of the question. Justin had a lot of connections. Justin was unreadable. There was shock, but Will couldn’t identify anything else. That was hard too. He used to know Justin so well and be able to read his emotional shifts. There was no shift, just the tongue on his lips and sharp staredown that didn’t falter. “I-I can go. I’m sorry, I… I’ve been trying to rehearse this… figure out what to say… m-my… Luke arranged for me to be able to visit. W-With your security folk and…” He swallowed again and then fell silent. He sounded like a dick. Fitting, because he was a dick. A dick he wanted to make up for.
Justin knew if he didn’t speak, he was going to burst into tears. And he fucking hated that. He had told himself for a long time that if he ever saw Will again, he would kick his arse for hurting Sasha, but there was no anger. Just something again to wounded pain of old memories being dredged up. Memories that never had closure, they just cut off without anything. Eventually, his closure came in bringing Sasha into his life, finding love again, healing, learning that he did deserve to be loved, that he wasn’t so damaged he was completely unlovable… how he had felt when Will shat all over what they had by just disappearing and dropping their relationship like a steaming hot turd. The hand he had held up to get the sounds guys to shut the fucking music off had now balled into a fist. His other hand was gripped around his microphone so hard the bedazzled rhinestones were digging into his skin. “What do you want?” finally came out, croaky, hoarse, choked. It didn’t sound like his voice at all.
“To talk.” Will hesitated for a moment or two. “To start to talk,” he corrected. None of this would ever be resolved in one talk. He also didn’t want Justin to think he was barking orders at him because beneath this roof and other roofs alike, he had a lot of power. One snap of his fingers and Will could be stormed upon by a full security unit and dragged away in a cop car. He wasn’t convinced that wouldn’t happen. Justin hadn’t moved. His feet were rooted to the stage and his eyes hadn’t shifted from Will at all.
With that, Justin’s face crumbled into a mix of pain, frustration and a little anger. It was scrunched up, eyes narrowing, lips pulling into what seemed to be a sneer. He was having flashback feelings to his mom coming back, and at least that had worked out. Eventually. Or was working out. It was an ongoing process. He wasn’t quite sure he was medicated enough for this. In the end, he was just standing there, slowly scratching his forehead as he watched Will. “Right.”
“Justin.” Justin looked over to where his name had come from and found Caden standing to the side of the stage. “Are you right, kiddo?” he asked, eyebrows raised a little as he glanced beyond the stage to Will.
Justin’s tongue rested between his lips as he contemplated the query. He surprised himself when he nodded. “I, um… have you made a decision on the Rusty callbacks?” he asked, glancing at Will again before looking back to Caden.
“That can wait. There’s one particular person who auditioned that I want a word with you about before we proceed,” Caden explained.
There was something cagey about Caden, like he had his hackles up in protection. But he did that, protected Justin. It was to be expected. He made that pact with Justin’s dad long ago. “Please… fucking tell me it’s no one from my past come back to haunt me,” he pleaded, a little moan of helplessness in his tone. It said a lot for how he was feeling right now.
Will was biting his lip, expecting Caden to throw him out. Caden always had this powerful presence to him, and rightfully so. He was a fucking bajillionaire or something and owned this show. He could throw anyone out that he wanted with a good arse-kicking if he felt like it. He was poised for it. This could be make or break. If Justin didn’t want to do this, WIll might not get another chance to get near him. He heard Justin had new staff. A new carer, even. Some hot blonde dude who lingered in the background of photos like a Mafia boss. He looked like he could play a hot version of Draco Malfoy, and as a result, Will had his personality pegged like Malfoy too. Not that he knew the guy, but he did wonder about him. What had led to it. He had only found one interview about Justin who referenced a new carer, but no further information.
“That wouldn’t happen, kiddo. All cards on the table, remember? I think you’ll be pleased with this one, but we can do that when you get back from Boston. What time are you leaving?” Caden asked.
“Just around lunch. Whenever I finish here. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me about it now?” Justin asked. There was the merest of glances at Will, but it was so quick, you could have missed it.
Was Justin trying to scramble for an excuse not talk to Will? Will just didn’t know. It was eating him up inside that he no longer could read Justin. Not his facial feature, not his tone of voice, not his body language. It used to be second-nature. “Listen, I can just… go…” he spoke up, pointing over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”
“Wait,” Justin said, stopping him.
Caden cleared his throat and gave a little wave of his fingers. “This can wait until Monday, kiddo. We’ll talk about all the callbacks then. You going to be right here?”
“Yeah.” Justin was putting his mic back on the stand. Or trying to, at least. It was like he was all thumbs, taking a couple of attempt to lock it into the ring. “But you can tell them to get rid of that fucking song from the library.” Caden gave him a little knowing smirk and then was gone. It wasn’t long now until Caden’s wedding. It was going to be some destination, two part wedding that incorporated Tristan’s Buddhist customs. Knowing all the people they knew, it wouldn’t exactly be classified as ‘intimate’, but it would be far from a flashy affair. He pulled his hoodie on over his tank top, back to Will as he did. Then he picked up his drink bottle and walked to the side of the stage so he could head through to the stairs down into the audience. The soft squeaks of his Converse high-tops were usually swallowed up my music but the theatre was in silence now and the footfalls were prominent. Soon, he was down at Will’s level and came up to him. “I’m not rehashing. It’s taken a hell of a lot for me to get back to a place I can cope again. My head spends enough time rehashing past all on its own. I won’t do it voluntarily.” He sat down in one of the seats in the front row and had some more water that was laced with aloe vera juice to also help his throat. It didn’t taste the best, but you had to suffer for your art.
After some hesitation, not sure he was allowed, Will sat in the seat beside Justin. He nearly laughed when Justin requested the song be removed from the library. Because that was familiar. Justin’s diva streak. It wasn’t really diva, it was just his form of diva. He quickly tired of people being basic when he was working hard and his patience frayed. It was pretty notorious, but amusing with everyone who knew him. Will had to admit to himself that when he moved on from the anger in the grief cycle of losing everyone he loved, and losing his relationship, he played that song on repeat for too many times than was healthy. Because it was true. He had been angry at Justin for ending things at first, until it hit him that he deserved it. Justin never deserved getting hurt in the way Will hurt him. That was what made today so hard. “Are you, um, going to Boston to visit Sasha?”
Justin slowly swallowed the mouthful he had. “Sash lives here now.” He gave Will a sideways glance. “With me.” He exhaled slowly and was chewing the corner of his lip, eyes on the ornate fascia of the stage in front of them. He started to bounce his leg without realising it because he was feeling a little trapped here, but he always felt that with a blindsiding. If he had been asked if Will could see him in advance, he wouldn’t have said yes. Will wasn’t dumb, he would have known this. That didn’t suddenly stop Justin’s anxiety from trying to kick in. The plain in simple phenomenon here was that he just didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to feel. And through all that, he was worrying how Sasha would take this when he was already feeling a little fragile this week missing Andi.
“Oh. Well, that’s… that’s pretty cool.” Will was sure it was just dumb coming out of his mouth. Or contrived BS, which he knew Justin hated. He hated false platitudes with a burning passion, but that wasn’t what Will meant with it. He stumbled over the words because what Justin said was suddenly a big clue that he had grown up a lot recently, and Will found his eyes drawn to Justin. His face, his appearance. Nothing was too visibly different, but there was something in his face that seemed more grown up than last time they were in each other’s presence. “You’ve lost weight,” he added without thinking about it. Justin had covered up a little with his hoodie now, but prior to that, he was only in track pants and a tank top. It was subconscious for Will to log how he looked.
“I was in hospital for awhile,” Justin replied. He had only been on IV nutrition the whole time he was unconscious and even then, he hadn’t eaten a lot when he woke. He had been so sick with the Serotonin Syndrome that even since all that, he had only been eating smaller meals and mostly then, it was so he could take his medication. His phone trilled with a text message, so he rested his water bottle between his knees and took his phone out to check who it was. It gave him a distraction he needed. This felt so strange and awkward. It was only Presley proposing a booking for him. His eyes briefly skimmed the details, and he flicked back a quick reply telling Presley to email him the event’s schedule for more information. He put his phone back in his pocket, exhaling deeply.
Will nodded, licking his lips. “I know. I mean, um… I know from Luke now. Not the whole story, though. He just said you had been sick and in the ICU, so he told me to hold off coming to see you. Before that, I read online that you collapsed on stage and it was pretty scary. They didn’t say what it was, just that you did and were rushed to hospital. I couldn’t see anywhere confirming what it was. Lot’s of dumb fan speculation, but what else is new?” He picked at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans. “That pretty much told me it had to be bad. I know your PR folk never release a lot of details when you’re in a bad way.” He did still know. He knew everything, he didn’t forget any of it. Even if they weren’t together anymore, he would never be able to just unthink everything he knew or erase the memories. He didn’t want to either. Not anymore. At first, he wished he could. “Did you… was it an attempt?” There was always a chance here Justin would tell him to shut the fuck up because it was none of his business. The part that hurt was that he would be right.
Justin shook his head, tugging his lips to the side. “Not this time. It was a really dangerous medication reaction. They were trying something new and it made me feel sick and throw up, so they added something to stop me being sick, and it interacted in a bad way. It’s called Serotonin Syndrome. Nearly killed me, but hey, what else is new? I’m just glad it happened at the end of the show during curtain call rather than right in the middle of it. Why are you here?” he finally added, now looking at Will directly, waiting for him to explain. It was eating into his training session, but he was okay with that. Maybe this needed to happen and now was as good a time as any. The when didn’t matter. It would still be hard as ever loving fuck to face. Really hard. So hard, he felt a churny sick feeling in his gut. He knew it was anxiety.
“It’s not, like, a twelve step program or anything. I get that’s what you must been thinking. No one’s putting me up to it or telling me I need to do it for therapy for anything. I’ve wanted to do it for awhile now. Pretty much as soon as I accepted how much of a cunt I’d been to you. And to Layla. And to Sasha. And to Luke. To everyone I cared about, really. I wish I had a big long reasoning and justification of why it happened, but I don’t and that wouldn’t be fair anyway. It happened, and whatever I turned into back then, I hate. I still hate myself a lot, but I’m trying to turn back into myself. If that makes sense?” Will paused, forehead creasing when he met Justin’s gaze. “Things got to a point where this horrible fear cancer would catch up with me overtook everything, and then it morphed into this dangerous mix of me feeling like I would never be good enough to care for you the way you needed it. For a long time, I convinced myself it was because I was a kid and out of my depth, but I still tried. Only now, I know it’s all utter bullshut because apparently Sasha manages it. The truth is, I was just an arsehole making excuses for my insecurities and that made me hurt you in the worst possible ways. It destroyed us, and why I’m here is… I want to say sorry. You don’t have to accept it, but I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for all I did and didn’t do when I promised you time and time again I would. Your illness had been getting worse and I had to grow the fuck up and step up, not act like an arsehole and abandon you when you were at your worst.”
Justin stayed quiet for long enough that it probably felt like awkward silence. It wasn’t. All he was doing was processing what Will was saying, because no matter how much he had been hurt and how much he hated how it all ended, they had still been together a long time. They had still loved each other. He still thought Will was a good person, deep down inside beyond all the hurt he was causing. “Thank you,” he soon murmured. He was glad Will was respecting his wishes here and not rehashing or dredging up what all happened. He was just taking responsibility for it and apologising, and that did mean a lot to Justin. He appreciated it and he was grateful for it. “This must’ve taken a hell of a lot of balls for you to do. I never thought I’d see you again. Once you just fucked off and then I heard you moved back to Australia. It was all very final. I don’t regret what we had. I haven’t forgotten all the good. I think it was just time to end so I could breathe again.”
Will gave him a wry smile. “About one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life, and I beat cancer. This is worse than all the chemo collectively. In difficulty, I mean. I expected you to tell me to go fuck myself. I was a total wuss not just contacting you and asking if we could talk, so I’m sorry for that too. I didn’t want to give myself any ways to chicken out. He’s… I’ve read about you and Sasha. The official stuff, like. Interviews, sound bites where you mention him, seen him in photos with you. I know he sings with you now. Back-up with Maryanne for charity stuff. Does he make you happy? Because I know I stopped awhile ago and I didn’t try to fix it. Not even when you actually told me you didn’t know how to be happy anymore.”
“Yeah, really happy,” Justin confirmed with a fleeting smile. “He’s a complex soul. I don’t want you thinking what he does is indicative of what you failed at. There’s a lot of reasons why Sash and I work the way we do. It’s got nothing to do with the fact he knows how to take care of me and you don’t. You did. For a long time. Then you stopped. That’s what went wrong. He doesn’t care better than you do. Care is care. There’s no wrong way to do it. He’s an onion boy, lots of layers. If things hadn’t been so shit, I know you would’ve gotten along well with him. Pain teaches you life shit, and he’s had a lot of pain. He has a good friend who’s moved here now. He’s a cancer survivor too. Zeke. You’d have a lot in common with him. He’s actually Shannon’s cousin. It can be a small world sometimes. Are you back permanently, or just for a visit?”
Will listened closely. He noted the way Justin was choosing to say things. There wasn’t any filtering or signs he was trying to keep Will’s nose out of his business. But he was being purposefully vague for a reason and Will was pretty sure it was Justin trying to protect him. That was a massive thing, it wasn’t lost on him. But he was at a place now where it didn’t feel like agony hearing Justin talk about his new love. He actually wanted to know more about the guy who stepped up when he dropped the ball, and the ways he made Justin happen. Maybe in time. At this point, he knew there was a very real chance he wouldn’t be invited back into the squad fold and if not, it would be something he would have to deal with and accept. It would just be hard, considering he was returning to their school on Monday. “Even if I didn’t want to admit it back then, I knew if he had gotten close enough to you that you were falling in love with him, he had to be something incredibly special. And I… I was jealous. So jealous. It was eating me alive. I hated him for no reason other than he had you and I didn’t, no matter how much I also knew I threw it away. Stupid shit like jealousy stops you thinking like a normal rational person. Turns you into a flaming dickhead. I hated that he was doing what I failed at. I was messed up and had to accept that I needed help after I destroyed everything. I owe him apologies just as much as I do you, if you ever let me near him. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. I’m here permanently, on conditions, of course. If I fuck up again, I’m on the next plane back to Sydney. Luke split up with Haley and he’s got custody of Milo, so I’m living with him to help out. Going back to school here on Monday. But I’ll avoid Sasha if you need me to.”
Justin shook his head. “You don’t need to do that. He’s a strong person, he doesn’t need me drawing his battlelines. He might not want to be near you, he can decide that much for himself. But… honestly, that’s not the sort of person he is. Even if he doesn’t like it, he won’t give you the cold shoulder. The bigger question is, can you handle seeing me with him? He’s my Plus One, he’s always around. We’re both always with our friends, if you’re back and we’re moving in the same circles, it won’t be avoidable and I can’t dilute my relationship to spare your feelings, I’m sorry. I’m a stronger person now because of him. I just wanted to pre-warn you of that. Everything’s different now. Our squad has grown, we’re interlinked with friends and family all over the place. Sash and I live with my sister and her three friends from San Francisco. My apartment was renovated into our own quarters connected to Dad and Mom. My dad’s been sick too, so my grandparents are staying with us indefinitely. Oh, yeah, and my folks are getting married again.”
Luke warned Will about this sort of stuff. He didn’t go into details because he wasn’t aware of the logistics himself. His own life had been crazy just trying to keep his head above water with his divorce and custody arrangements. He knew some, but mostly only secondhand talking to people at the bar. Will’s big brother had issued him that gentle warning, to not step back into this thinking anything was the same anymore. To not even expect Justin or Layla to be the same, the two people Will most desperately wanted to mend things with. But he had told Will that the friends group had expanded a lot and most of them went to the same school, save for Harry who was at Joffrey, Justin who was home-schooled, and those who were in first year college. “A lot of heavy stuff going down for you. Are you okay? Like, well and that right now? Luke said your dad’s been in a wheelchair. I heard you’re having some throat issues. Not to mention a dumb bitch who doesn’t trust you to lift. How is she even here if she doesn’t trust the King of Footloose to lift right? I can handle all of that, I promise you. Especially knowing you’re dating Sasha now. I’ve done a lot of growing up and getting my shit together. I had no choice. Dad was even threatening to have me join the Army if I didn’t sort out my attitude and plans to get my shit together. And I did. But that’s a whole other crazy story in itself.” The share-house sounded like epic fun, if they were all just as fun as their other friends always had been when they got together. But it was understandably complicated and Will knew he had a lot of catching up to do. He was just relieved as all fuck right now Justin talking to him and not shoving him away. He seemed open to his returned presence, and that was huge. “Was it a mindfuck meeting your mom’s daughter she gave up for adoption?”
“So much shit has gone down recently, I’m still trying to recover from it. Dad has something called Guillain-Barré syndrome. It’s an autoimmune illness where his nerves are attacked by his own immune system. It’s fucked with his functions, but he can recover from it. It just takes time. He’s getting better, just has bad days. Then my mom came back, which was a whole other level of mindfuck. It’s just been a bit of a horrible year in a lot of ways. Or a lot of a horrible year. Not everything, though. There’s been a lot of nice and amazing stuff in between it. But I’m okay, I guess. Getting there. Take the good days with the bad days and all that. If you mean mentally, it’s up and down. You know how it goes…” And Will did know that, Justin hadn’t forgotten that either. “Why is it a crazy story? I can tell you’ve been, like, working out or something. I’ve shrunk and you’ve mutated into Thor. Blowing off steam in the gym? I distinctly remember that going to shit for you last time you were here. Going like a fucking bat out of hell and nearly killing yourself, convincing yourself you were dying again. Meeting Amarlie was a bit of a mindfuck at first because I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was a crazed stalker fan and I flipped my shit at her when she tried to talk to me. But now it’s awesome. We’re crazy close. Her friends are way cool too. Blaize Lamont is one of them. The trans YouTuber.”
“Your mom?! I thought she got chucked in jail for decades,” Will squeaked, looking at Justin in horror.
Justin shook his head. “Not that evil cunt. She’s not my mom. I don’t care if she rots in there and they shit down the mouth of her corpse. My mom. Gen. They got divorced and she went away to France. They’re back together now, though. Getting married at Hayman Island in November. My life has been a whole series of shit I don’t really know how I’m supposed to deal with this last year.”
Will was relieved to hear Justin correct that. He had been pretty sure some of the Dad Squad had united to make sure Justin’s abusers were dealt with. Mark, Euan, and probably Clint was involved. He had been around when the court case with his mom was going down, and the one where that Paul cunt had been sent down too. Mark would murder anyone with his bare hands who tried to resurrect that trauma for Justin. “That’s awesome, though. It hit you hard when that got messed up. Feeling like your family is back together again and all that.” He gave Justin a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I was a whole other level of dickhead. I definitely didn’t repeat those mistakes. I started swimming, with a professional trainer and all that. Then he helped me work towards getting my Bronze Medallion for Surf Live Saving. I channelled a lot of my feelings into that and it really helped me get my shit back together again. Seeing what happened to you at Bondi is really what instigated it. When I saw how they saved your life, it made me realise my life had shit all meaning. Or shit all purpose. I wanted to write, I knew that. But until that turned into anything significant, I was just existing. Once you have a purpose, it’s amazing how life starts to make more sense. But, um… you should know, my trainer was Kade. Your uncle’s partner. They have a long distance relationship or something? My folks hired him when he came highly recommended.”
Justin’s eyebrows shot up at this. “Kade? He…” He stopped, shifting in the seat. “Yeah, he was the one who saved my life at the beach that day. Gold Medallist in swimming, so you had the best. Uncle Alec lives here now, and Kade stays here during the Australian off-season. That’s pretty awesome that you did that. You’re right. Purpose is something vital to a meaningful life. Some people have none and they wonder why they’re so miserable all the time. But purpose isn’t something people hand to you on a platter. You have to work to achieve it, and keep working on it. Just like anything worthy in life, I guess. You’re not writing anymore? This life saving thing is what you want to do now?”
Will laughed, nodding. “Yeah, in the early days, he worked my arse so hard. He told me if I was going to slack off, I’d be a failure for the rest of my life. You couldn’t get anything sitting around being a lump day in, day out, doing nothing and complaining you’ve got nothing. Sitting there like a wounded victim bitching no one was doing everything for me. Then blaming other people for it, like some twat with self-entitlement complex. You’re only entitled to what you work for and nurture. If you stop that and lose it, it’s only your head it’s on, no one else’s. Honestly, it was the kick up the arse I needed. Total reality check. I still want to write, but I’ve had an emotional block to it. At least, to anything worth writing. I started journalling, like you do and that helped me not lose the skill completely. I think I’d like to do both, maybe? Like, still be a writer and maybe get published some day, but in the meantime, be a swimming teacher or something. I want to finish my book, but I think the block to writing would always be there as long as I didn’t make amends with you and everyone here. Get closure, apologise for being a dick. Have an up close and personal reminder of everything you achieve and work for, no matter how hard shit gets for you. And I come here, and it’s exactly the first thing I see. New Rusty?”
Justin could hear the way Will was explaining this that it wasn’t just lip-service. They were tough lessons Will had to learn or his life would forever be a fuck-up. No one else should have to make your life better for you if you weren’t even willing to try yourself. He couldn’t think of anything worse than just existing as a lump with no purpose. He would literally rather end his life that live it like that. “Then I guess it’s welcome back. Not to New York, but to yourself. No one is ever a lost cause until they actively decide to throw in the towel for good and stop trying. I know they can’t have been easy lessons to learn.” He had another drink and capped the bottle again. “Rusty and Ariel. Rusty has just been shared between three understudies, so Caden wants it permanently filled. Autumn left for some role on TV. Did you hear Reecy’s gone to Dirty Dancing? She’s Baby now, and she and Kyan are dating. It’s hard. Having new people come on board freaks me out. That other chick, she’s been working with my Ren understudy more than me. I’ve been doing these routines for fucking ages and she still thinks I’ll fuck it up.”
His phone started to ring in his pocket with the When You Say Nothing At All ringtone he had set for Sasha. He took it out and answered it. “Hey, baby. You okay?” He listened to Sasha’s answer and nodded, even if he couldn’t see him. “I can just finish up here and you can pick me up outside. I’ll take a shower when we get to Boston. My bag’s all packed.” He sat forward in the seat when Sasha continued, listening to him closely. “I can come to the cemetery with you if you want me to. It’s your call… You don’t have to decide now. Think about it on the trip… Out the front in half an hour then? I’m pretty much done. Grab Dory’s lead and food too… Okay. Love you, see you soon.”
Will had sat quietly, trying not to eavesdrop, but it was hard with Justin right beside him. He hadn’t stepped away to take the call, so Will assumed he didn’t mind him hearing. “You have to go?” he asked quietly. He had just gotten comfortable chatting with Justin, feeling like he was making some leeway.
Justin nodded. “I do, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s the first time Sash is visiting Andi since he left Boston, and the first time seeing her parents again so it’s pretty heavy. Sorry, I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now, but maybe we could meet up again soon for a coffee?” He brought up his schedule on his phone to see what he had booked in this week. There was a lot of green this week, which indicated his medical appointments, and yellow with training sessions. “I can do Tuesday afternoon before dinner. And, um, well, all us lot hang out a lot these days, so maybe you can come along next time? If that’s what you want, I mean.”
Will smiled, eyes glancing at the schedule app Justin was consulting on his phone. It looked like a rainbow as he scrolled the days, clearly it was colour-coded for all Justin’s commitments now so he could see at a glance what was happening. Justin always dealt better when he was in control of what was happening around him. “I’d like that. After school? Unless you hang with Sasha?” A glimmer of hope was building inside him when Justin mentioned their friends, and inviting Will back into their fold. It wouldn’t be as easy as that, he knew, but it was a start, and that was more than he could have hoped for. “Yeah, if they would be okay with that. I don’t want to rock up and make everyone feel weird.”
“Sash spends Tuesdays with his folks. I think the only way you can make everyone feel weird is if you rock up and start swinging punches again,” Justin said with a hint of a smirk as he stood and put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m not the only one you need to make amends with, though. So, I guess it’ll depend on that. Sorry I couldn’t give you more today. I just… I need time, you know?”
Will stood too with a nod. “I do. I get it. Trust me, this is more than I hoped for. You listened. I didn’t expect you to. I hope Sasha’s okay in Boston. Sounds like some tough shit he’s working through too.” He held his hand out for Justin to shake, even if that felt surreal and weird.
Justin looked at Will’s hand and after a moment or two, took it and gave it a companionable shake. “See you Tuesday then. Good luck with going back to school.” With a little smile, Justin gave Will a nod and disappeared back through the doors to back stage.
LOG, COMPLETE