![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soldiersheartParis asked me to take Mikey home because he was struggling. I know it's getting late, but can you go sit with Paris for a little while? Mikey was worrying about leaving him alone.
"A pain that I'm used to."
Oct. 17th, 2016 03:41 pmsharedmydreamsWho: Kalen Mercer and Martin Davison
What: Family matters
Where: Michael & Paris' home, Fifth Avenue
When: After this
As completely expected, Martin had dropped everything as soon as he got Paris' text saying Mikey was upset and needed to go home. He and Kalen had been settling in to watch a movie together, eating Chinese takeout for dinner. Kalen just went along with him, because it was family. Mikey was just an extension of Martin and things were shit now. It was a bad storm they were needing to weather, but Kalen still had this undercurrent of concern that they might not want him sticking his nose in on their business. He and Martin had been taking their reunion slow and it was almost snail's pace. They weren't married, so he was anxious about what his place in this whole situation was supposed to be.
Mikey was beyond distressed when they got there. Paris clearly wasn't in a great condition, but he was just saying over and over that Mikey needed to go home, he needed rest, he was stressing himself into the ground. Something had triggered it. Mikey had probably been bottling everything up, trying to keep it together and stay strong for Paris, but that was always a recipe for disaster. Bottled up emotions always had to come out eventually. Kalen could see the visible relief in Paris when Martin came to take Mikey home. Mikey didn't protest. He seemed to know it was what he needed, but he was torn because he wanted to be there to care for Paris. It was painful. There was no other way to describe it.
Kalen sort of stepped back, just being there while Martin did what he could to help Mikey. Mikey was so upset and crying that he made himself sick. The concierge of the posh Fifth Avenue apartment building probably wasn't impressed when Mikey puked all over the elevator when he pushed over into panic attack territory and couldn't catch his breath. Puking seemed to be what he needed to do to relieve the tension, though. That was something Kalen more than understood. He had been there. He had been that distressed before. Would he be the same if it had been Martin who was diagnosed with a brain tumour? Probably. But he deserve to be forcing their relationship on a extensive go-slow? Confusion was beginning to set in.
Nevertheless, Paris and Mikey owned the penthouse, so it wasn't like payment for the elevator wouldn't be covered. That was the least of their worries. Up at the apartment, Mikey threw up three more times and thwarted every last sliver of energy he had remaining in doing so. He was physically and emotionally exhausted from dealing with the out-of-the-blue shock that Paris had a brain tumour. There had been no time to plan for it or brace themselves for it. Martin stayed in the bathroom with him while he took a quick shower, and then he helped his twin get into some PJs so he could go to bed. Kalen stood in the doorway, nibbling his thumbnail while he watched Martin help Mikey into bed. He pulled the covers over him and tucked him in. Mikey crashed out within a minute or two of his head hitting the pillow.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked Martin quietly
What: Family matters
Where: Michael & Paris' home, Fifth Avenue
When: After this
As completely expected, Martin had dropped everything as soon as he got Paris' text saying Mikey was upset and needed to go home. He and Kalen had been settling in to watch a movie together, eating Chinese takeout for dinner. Kalen just went along with him, because it was family. Mikey was just an extension of Martin and things were shit now. It was a bad storm they were needing to weather, but Kalen still had this undercurrent of concern that they might not want him sticking his nose in on their business. He and Martin had been taking their reunion slow and it was almost snail's pace. They weren't married, so he was anxious about what his place in this whole situation was supposed to be.
Mikey was beyond distressed when they got there. Paris clearly wasn't in a great condition, but he was just saying over and over that Mikey needed to go home, he needed rest, he was stressing himself into the ground. Something had triggered it. Mikey had probably been bottling everything up, trying to keep it together and stay strong for Paris, but that was always a recipe for disaster. Bottled up emotions always had to come out eventually. Kalen could see the visible relief in Paris when Martin came to take Mikey home. Mikey didn't protest. He seemed to know it was what he needed, but he was torn because he wanted to be there to care for Paris. It was painful. There was no other way to describe it.
Kalen sort of stepped back, just being there while Martin did what he could to help Mikey. Mikey was so upset and crying that he made himself sick. The concierge of the posh Fifth Avenue apartment building probably wasn't impressed when Mikey puked all over the elevator when he pushed over into panic attack territory and couldn't catch his breath. Puking seemed to be what he needed to do to relieve the tension, though. That was something Kalen more than understood. He had been there. He had been that distressed before. Would he be the same if it had been Martin who was diagnosed with a brain tumour? Probably. But he deserve to be forcing their relationship on a extensive go-slow? Confusion was beginning to set in.
Nevertheless, Paris and Mikey owned the penthouse, so it wasn't like payment for the elevator wouldn't be covered. That was the least of their worries. Up at the apartment, Mikey threw up three more times and thwarted every last sliver of energy he had remaining in doing so. He was physically and emotionally exhausted from dealing with the out-of-the-blue shock that Paris had a brain tumour. There had been no time to plan for it or brace themselves for it. Martin stayed in the bathroom with him while he took a quick shower, and then he helped his twin get into some PJs so he could go to bed. Kalen stood in the doorway, nibbling his thumbnail while he watched Martin help Mikey into bed. He pulled the covers over him and tucked him in. Mikey crashed out within a minute or two of his head hitting the pillow.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked Martin quietly
[ TEXT MESSAGE ] To Marty @ soldiersheart
Oct. 17th, 2016 03:10 pmforeverfabulousI can't text much because looking at the screen is agony. But I need you to come take Mikey home to get some sleep. He's a mess. He can't stop crying. He needs rest. Don't reply, just come.
soldiersheartWho: Martin and Michael Davison
What: Family Emergency
Where: West Point Academy to Mount Sinai Hospital
When: After THIS
Martin was at work when Mikey's text came through. West Point was an hour's drive away from Manhattan, but he got authority to leave immediately due to a family emergency. Surgery?! He had known Paris was having some medical tests, but that was the last of the information that had come through a couple of days before when Michael and Paris were home from London. He had gone over to see how they were. Paris had been in bed sleeping, and Michael looked like he should be with him. But Mikey did tell Martin that Paris was worried he had a brain tumour, and on hearing the symptoms Paris had been having, Marty couldn't deny it sounded concerning when Paris was usually as fit as a bull.
Nothing was mentioned about surgery. Marty had been waiting on news about the results of the tests, but he had just assumed nothing had been confirmed or diagnosed yet. He didn't ask questions via text. All he did was tell Mikey he was on his way, and he would be there as soon as possible. There wasn't even any time to change out of his work clothes, but by this point, the last thing he cared about was that. Mikey was usually a pretty strong and together guy. The text message was enough to tell Marty this was serious. It Mikey said he needed him, he needed him.
On the drive down, Marty called Kalen and left him a voicemail to tell him what was going on. Things with their relationship was still what Marty could only describe as slow burn. Very slow burn. Kalen had a lot to work through, but Marty was okay to wait however long it took. They had their own places, and no noises yet had been made about living together. They went on sweet dates, and spent time together doing date things. Or they would watch movies at each other's places, and talk for hours. Marty realised that this was exactly the breath of life their relationship needed. Not only did it show Kalen that he was okay to take it slow, and there was no pressure, it also gave Kalen the time and space he needed to re-adjust to having a life together.
Martin didn't know where in the hospital Paris was, and confidentiality had him being cockblocked by the admin worker he was trying to get information from. Cockblocked and then some. Cockblocked to the point Security came and to move Martin on, and only then did they realise Marty was identical to Mikey. So, they called Mikey on his cell phone and asked if it was okay to send Martin up to where Paris was. He finally got the greenlight. Damn, the celebrity world was serious fucking business. Despite being pissed off he had been given the runaround when Mikey needed him, once in the elevator, he was relieved Paris had the privacy and security he needed. But what freaking surgery?!
Finally, Martin found the waiting room Michael had told Security he was, and he ran over to where his twin was. "Mikey. It's okay, I'm here, buddy. I'm here," he said softly, and grabbed his brother in a protective hug to just hold him before even asking him any questions.
What: Family Emergency
Where: West Point Academy to Mount Sinai Hospital
When: After THIS
Martin was at work when Mikey's text came through. West Point was an hour's drive away from Manhattan, but he got authority to leave immediately due to a family emergency. Surgery?! He had known Paris was having some medical tests, but that was the last of the information that had come through a couple of days before when Michael and Paris were home from London. He had gone over to see how they were. Paris had been in bed sleeping, and Michael looked like he should be with him. But Mikey did tell Martin that Paris was worried he had a brain tumour, and on hearing the symptoms Paris had been having, Marty couldn't deny it sounded concerning when Paris was usually as fit as a bull.
Nothing was mentioned about surgery. Marty had been waiting on news about the results of the tests, but he had just assumed nothing had been confirmed or diagnosed yet. He didn't ask questions via text. All he did was tell Mikey he was on his way, and he would be there as soon as possible. There wasn't even any time to change out of his work clothes, but by this point, the last thing he cared about was that. Mikey was usually a pretty strong and together guy. The text message was enough to tell Marty this was serious. It Mikey said he needed him, he needed him.
On the drive down, Marty called Kalen and left him a voicemail to tell him what was going on. Things with their relationship was still what Marty could only describe as slow burn. Very slow burn. Kalen had a lot to work through, but Marty was okay to wait however long it took. They had their own places, and no noises yet had been made about living together. They went on sweet dates, and spent time together doing date things. Or they would watch movies at each other's places, and talk for hours. Marty realised that this was exactly the breath of life their relationship needed. Not only did it show Kalen that he was okay to take it slow, and there was no pressure, it also gave Kalen the time and space he needed to re-adjust to having a life together.
Martin didn't know where in the hospital Paris was, and confidentiality had him being cockblocked by the admin worker he was trying to get information from. Cockblocked and then some. Cockblocked to the point Security came and to move Martin on, and only then did they realise Marty was identical to Mikey. So, they called Mikey on his cell phone and asked if it was okay to send Martin up to where Paris was. He finally got the greenlight. Damn, the celebrity world was serious fucking business. Despite being pissed off he had been given the runaround when Mikey needed him, once in the elevator, he was relieved Paris had the privacy and security he needed. But what freaking surgery?!
Finally, Martin found the waiting room Michael had told Security he was, and he ran over to where his twin was. "Mikey. It's okay, I'm here, buddy. I'm here," he said softly, and grabbed his brother in a protective hug to just hold him before even asking him any questions.
"Only fear of death."
Oct. 6th, 2016 10:18 pmjustalittlecrushWho: Michael, all alone. In any other situation, he might laugh at being a Nigel No-Friends.
What: The life of being married to the World's Most Stubborn Bitch Ever
Where: Surgical Unit, Mount Sinai
When: Friday morning
Michael's shoulders were aching from feeling like he had the weight of the world on them. His hips were sore from the firm plastic his ass had been planted in for the last two and a half hours. He had been so hunched over without realising it until his lower back, too, protested with a twinge of pain. He sat up, and then back, rubbing his hands over his face. A heavy sigh left him, a vain attempt to unwind that twisted knot of fear and tension engulfing his heart and stomach. He felt ill from anxiety.
Paris didn't want to anyone to know what was happening today. They were cutting into part of his brain to biopsy the mass shown on the medical imaging. He didn't want anyone to know he was having the procedure. He had no intentions on telling anyone exactly what was happening until he knew for sure there was anything to be concerned about. And it wasn't stubbornness. Not really. It felt like Paris' arrogant stubbornness surging forward. After losing his shit at the initial hospital appointment and telling Gen and his dad to leave, Paris had emotionally shut down. Only Michael was let in. It was his emotional protective mechanism kicking in. Paris wanted - and needed - to maintain control over this. He was already feeling powerless with what his body was doing to him.
Paris was also a private person. He had his public persona for the job he did, that was flamboyant and self-confident to the max. But really, under all the couture and flashy fabulouslessness, Paris was a private person and he liked his private life kept to himself, only sharing what he chose to share. He had told his family what was happening, and they knew he was going through some medical tests, but that was where Paris had cut everything off. He told Michael that he didn't want to tell anyone what was happening until someone said, right, you have cancer, and this is what is going to happen.
They just couldn't do that from scans alone. Paris had a lot of medical tests that showed some concerning anomalies. Tara wanted to admit him the very next morning to biopsy, and she warned that if the biospy showed the mass was a malignant tumour, they would want to act to remove it immediately. Paris signed the consent for both procedures, in case he wasn't well enough to agree to the removal in the wake of the biopsy. So, here was Michael, waiting alone in a hospital waiting room to hear whether the mass in his husband's brain was malignant, and whether they would need to be cutting further in to remove it. He was barely holding it together. Tears weren't far away.
But he knew Paris. He probably knew Paris better than anyone in the world. He knew that Paris' text messages with Gen had caused him to shut down. Not through any fault of Gen's own, but when he had admitted to her something was happening, her response was to tell him that she she was glad he was going to find out. He took it as her brushing over the surface of what could be an extremely terrifying situation. And Paris shut down. Michael sat and watched him fire the quick response back to Gen with a flippant, 'She doesn't want a divorce. Bigger fish to fry', and then throw his phone onto the kitchen counter and walk out of the room to take a shower. It culminated in Paris just not wanting to 'bother' his family until he had answers. Because not having answers lead to positive platitudes he wasn't in a good head space to process.
Michael could understand. It wasn't like his own family dynamic was the best over the years. He had been estranged from his twin brother for ages, to the point he hadn't been able to tell anyone he had one when his life moved on to New York. Paris was such a tough cookie to crack, but Michael had always been privy to his vulnerable side behind closed doors. This was the most vulnerable Michael had ever seen his soul mate... and he was really scared that he might lose him forever.
Tears broke. They started to spill down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them. He was scared, and he was alone. He didn't want to do this alone. As much as he was having an emotional inner turmoil about keeping Paris' wishes to wait until there was news, as far as Michael was concerned, having his brain cut into was pretty massive news. He wanted to shoulder this alone, but he couldn't. He needed someone.
His phone was taken out. He found Marty's number and shot him through a quick text:
Paris is having surgery. I need you, Marty. I really need you.
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
What: The life of being married to the World's Most Stubborn Bitch Ever
Where: Surgical Unit, Mount Sinai
When: Friday morning
Michael's shoulders were aching from feeling like he had the weight of the world on them. His hips were sore from the firm plastic his ass had been planted in for the last two and a half hours. He had been so hunched over without realising it until his lower back, too, protested with a twinge of pain. He sat up, and then back, rubbing his hands over his face. A heavy sigh left him, a vain attempt to unwind that twisted knot of fear and tension engulfing his heart and stomach. He felt ill from anxiety.
Paris didn't want to anyone to know what was happening today. They were cutting into part of his brain to biopsy the mass shown on the medical imaging. He didn't want anyone to know he was having the procedure. He had no intentions on telling anyone exactly what was happening until he knew for sure there was anything to be concerned about. And it wasn't stubbornness. Not really. It felt like Paris' arrogant stubbornness surging forward. After losing his shit at the initial hospital appointment and telling Gen and his dad to leave, Paris had emotionally shut down. Only Michael was let in. It was his emotional protective mechanism kicking in. Paris wanted - and needed - to maintain control over this. He was already feeling powerless with what his body was doing to him.
Paris was also a private person. He had his public persona for the job he did, that was flamboyant and self-confident to the max. But really, under all the couture and flashy fabulouslessness, Paris was a private person and he liked his private life kept to himself, only sharing what he chose to share. He had told his family what was happening, and they knew he was going through some medical tests, but that was where Paris had cut everything off. He told Michael that he didn't want to tell anyone what was happening until someone said, right, you have cancer, and this is what is going to happen.
They just couldn't do that from scans alone. Paris had a lot of medical tests that showed some concerning anomalies. Tara wanted to admit him the very next morning to biopsy, and she warned that if the biospy showed the mass was a malignant tumour, they would want to act to remove it immediately. Paris signed the consent for both procedures, in case he wasn't well enough to agree to the removal in the wake of the biopsy. So, here was Michael, waiting alone in a hospital waiting room to hear whether the mass in his husband's brain was malignant, and whether they would need to be cutting further in to remove it. He was barely holding it together. Tears weren't far away.
But he knew Paris. He probably knew Paris better than anyone in the world. He knew that Paris' text messages with Gen had caused him to shut down. Not through any fault of Gen's own, but when he had admitted to her something was happening, her response was to tell him that she she was glad he was going to find out. He took it as her brushing over the surface of what could be an extremely terrifying situation. And Paris shut down. Michael sat and watched him fire the quick response back to Gen with a flippant, 'She doesn't want a divorce. Bigger fish to fry', and then throw his phone onto the kitchen counter and walk out of the room to take a shower. It culminated in Paris just not wanting to 'bother' his family until he had answers. Because not having answers lead to positive platitudes he wasn't in a good head space to process.
Michael could understand. It wasn't like his own family dynamic was the best over the years. He had been estranged from his twin brother for ages, to the point he hadn't been able to tell anyone he had one when his life moved on to New York. Paris was such a tough cookie to crack, but Michael had always been privy to his vulnerable side behind closed doors. This was the most vulnerable Michael had ever seen his soul mate... and he was really scared that he might lose him forever.
Tears broke. They started to spill down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them. He was scared, and he was alone. He didn't want to do this alone. As much as he was having an emotional inner turmoil about keeping Paris' wishes to wait until there was news, as far as Michael was concerned, having his brain cut into was pretty massive news. He wanted to shoulder this alone, but he couldn't. He needed someone.
His phone was taken out. He found Marty's number and shot him through a quick text:
Paris is having surgery. I need you, Marty. I really need you.
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
"Footprints in the sand."
Jun. 13th, 2015 12:36 pmsoldiersheartWho: Marty Davison and Kalen Mercer
What: The moment of truth
Where: Sea Bright Beach, NJ
When: Friday evening
This beach was where Marty and Kalen had ended their first date ever. They had only been teenagers at the time, and had caught the bus to the nearby town for dinner in a nice restaurant, a movie, and then came here for a walk along the beach. It had been a clear, warm and still night with a full moon. They sat on the sand and listened to the water lapping against the shore and talked for ages. It had always had a special place in both their hearts, so Marty wasn't really surprised when this was the place Kalen had chosen for them to talk.
Marty had been stunned when Kalen was at the door of Paris and Mikey's place, finally telling Marty that it was time for them to talk... about everything. Marty hadn't been sure this would happen. He had been bracing himself the whole time for Kalen to just completely stonewall him and push him away again. He would have deserved it too.
Instead, Kalen had taken time to lick his wounds after having everything dragged up for him at the police station the day Marty came across him being sick out the front of the building. Kalen had confessed to everything that evening, but then went into a sort of shutdown mode where he mostly just slept for a few days and couldn't seem to be able to talk about it any further. Marty, of course, wanted to be able to talk about it. He wanted to know everything of what happened when he had been estranged from Kalen, but he knew that might never happen, or it could take time if they eventually got there.
It was this beach Kalen picked for them to talk. Marty was standing a few paces away from Kalen, while Kalen stood right at the edge of the water with his arms crossed over him looking out at the ocean. That late afternoon, there was a breeze and it was becoming a little overcast but the weather app had told him they weren't really expecting any rain. His job here was not to push. He had to wait for Kalen to be ready to tell him everything that happened. He knew there was a chance Kalen ultimately still couldn't face it and they would return to New York with so much still left unsaid. And right now, Marty's heart felt like it would never stop aching.
What: The moment of truth
Where: Sea Bright Beach, NJ
When: Friday evening
This beach was where Marty and Kalen had ended their first date ever. They had only been teenagers at the time, and had caught the bus to the nearby town for dinner in a nice restaurant, a movie, and then came here for a walk along the beach. It had been a clear, warm and still night with a full moon. They sat on the sand and listened to the water lapping against the shore and talked for ages. It had always had a special place in both their hearts, so Marty wasn't really surprised when this was the place Kalen had chosen for them to talk.
Marty had been stunned when Kalen was at the door of Paris and Mikey's place, finally telling Marty that it was time for them to talk... about everything. Marty hadn't been sure this would happen. He had been bracing himself the whole time for Kalen to just completely stonewall him and push him away again. He would have deserved it too.
Instead, Kalen had taken time to lick his wounds after having everything dragged up for him at the police station the day Marty came across him being sick out the front of the building. Kalen had confessed to everything that evening, but then went into a sort of shutdown mode where he mostly just slept for a few days and couldn't seem to be able to talk about it any further. Marty, of course, wanted to be able to talk about it. He wanted to know everything of what happened when he had been estranged from Kalen, but he knew that might never happen, or it could take time if they eventually got there.
It was this beach Kalen picked for them to talk. Marty was standing a few paces away from Kalen, while Kalen stood right at the edge of the water with his arms crossed over him looking out at the ocean. That late afternoon, there was a breeze and it was becoming a little overcast but the weather app had told him they weren't really expecting any rain. His job here was not to push. He had to wait for Kalen to be ready to tell him everything that happened. He knew there was a chance Kalen ultimately still couldn't face it and they would return to New York with so much still left unsaid. And right now, Marty's heart felt like it would never stop aching.
soldiersheartWho: Marty Davison and Kalen Mercer
What: Cry in the night if it helps
Where: About a block from nearest NYPD precinct
When: Sunday evening
Marty was walking home from the gym, actually seriously contemplating going to hotel and checking in for the night to give Mikey and Paris some space. He had been staying with them a few months now, and even though they both said it was okay and the place was big enough, the third wheel sensation was kicking in the more their wedding plans developed. The wedding was going to be huge, and it was such a beautiful thing to be part of. Marty was so happy his twin had that, but it made his own heart ache even more.
He was randomly checking Facebook as he walked along which his gym bag hitched over his shoulder. He glanced up briefly to make sure he wasn't going to bump into anyone for the next little bit of his journey. There was someone walking out of the cop shop and Marty went to side-step to clear his path. Just as he did, though, the person sort of stumbled grabbing for the railing of the steps and started to be sick all over the last few of them. It drew Marty's attention for him to get a better look at the person, readying himself to see if they needed help.
That was when he realised who it was. "Kalen!" he gasped and rushed up to him without even thinking, taking his arm to try to hold him up in case he was going to fall down the stairs.
What: Cry in the night if it helps
Where: About a block from nearest NYPD precinct
When: Sunday evening
Marty was walking home from the gym, actually seriously contemplating going to hotel and checking in for the night to give Mikey and Paris some space. He had been staying with them a few months now, and even though they both said it was okay and the place was big enough, the third wheel sensation was kicking in the more their wedding plans developed. The wedding was going to be huge, and it was such a beautiful thing to be part of. Marty was so happy his twin had that, but it made his own heart ache even more.
He was randomly checking Facebook as he walked along which his gym bag hitched over his shoulder. He glanced up briefly to make sure he wasn't going to bump into anyone for the next little bit of his journey. There was someone walking out of the cop shop and Marty went to side-step to clear his path. Just as he did, though, the person sort of stumbled grabbing for the railing of the steps and started to be sick all over the last few of them. It drew Marty's attention for him to get a better look at the person, readying himself to see if they needed help.
That was when he realised who it was. "Kalen!" he gasped and rushed up to him without even thinking, taking his arm to try to hold him up in case he was going to fall down the stairs.
[TEXT TO Mikey]
Jan. 11th, 2015 10:52 amyoucanttakemyprideI'm back home, cuzzo... And I'm pretty sure I need to see you and Marty in the same place to make sure he actually really is home and I didn't dream I saw that on Facebook.
sharedmydreamsWho: Kalen Mercer and Marty Davison
What: Face from the past
Where: Footloose opening @ Broadway, NYC
When: Saturday night
Kalen had gotten tickets for the Footloose opening as soon as they went on sale so he had scored second row. He hadn't been Justin's teacher for very long, but it was enough to know the kid and they had kept in touch. There had even been a few extra tutoring sessions that his dad paid for because Justin connected with Kalen and it made his learning a little easier when he had been sick. This was a special night, and it was never not an amazing thing for a teacher to see a kid they had taught shining and getting to where they hoped to make it.
The show was fantastic. No doubt about it, that kid had talent. It was a sell-out audience, and there were big names and famous faces throughout. There wasn't a single person who didn't enjoy it. The intermission came and there was a hell of a queue to the bathrooms, but a couple of wines before the show at pre-show drinks with a small handful of teacher friends from the school and he had no choice but for a quick bathroom visit himself. There he was, standing in the queue and the next person to head in, minding his own business looking at the Footloose poster mounted on the wall of Justin's sparkly shoes.
The bathroom door opened, and - of all people to come out - it was Mikey. Mikey, who was laughing at something someone behind him said and then turned to lock eyes with Kalen, who visible baulked, taken aback. They used to be such close friends growing up, but Kalen had cut ties with the Davison family after the break-up because it had just been too painful. Mikey, who had come running to help Kalen when he had been attacked and helped him through the pain of it because he couldn't have Marty there with him.
Kalen was staring at Mikey, trying to figure out if he should say hello or just make a hasty escape. That was exactly the struggle his mind was in when suddenly it felt like it blew up into a million pieces when a person identical to Mikey followed him out of the bathroom and banged into his back because he had obviously been expecting Mikey to keep moving.
Marty.
They both froze, gaping at each other. Kalen didn't even know how long he had frozen for but then he just turned and hurried away, pushing his way through the crowd to get away. But he couldn't miss the second part of the show. Justin didn't deserve people walking out of his audience for selfish reasons. So, he stayed. He stayed, only to realise that Mikey and his partner with Marty beside them were in the same row, and had been visible to each other the whole time without noticing. There was a stolen glance before Kalen swallowed heavily and then kept his eyes trained on the stage for the rest of the performance. He was going to get out of there before he had to talk to either the twins. He just had to because he wasn't ready to face this.
What: Face from the past
Where: Footloose opening @ Broadway, NYC
When: Saturday night
Kalen had gotten tickets for the Footloose opening as soon as they went on sale so he had scored second row. He hadn't been Justin's teacher for very long, but it was enough to know the kid and they had kept in touch. There had even been a few extra tutoring sessions that his dad paid for because Justin connected with Kalen and it made his learning a little easier when he had been sick. This was a special night, and it was never not an amazing thing for a teacher to see a kid they had taught shining and getting to where they hoped to make it.
The show was fantastic. No doubt about it, that kid had talent. It was a sell-out audience, and there were big names and famous faces throughout. There wasn't a single person who didn't enjoy it. The intermission came and there was a hell of a queue to the bathrooms, but a couple of wines before the show at pre-show drinks with a small handful of teacher friends from the school and he had no choice but for a quick bathroom visit himself. There he was, standing in the queue and the next person to head in, minding his own business looking at the Footloose poster mounted on the wall of Justin's sparkly shoes.
The bathroom door opened, and - of all people to come out - it was Mikey. Mikey, who was laughing at something someone behind him said and then turned to lock eyes with Kalen, who visible baulked, taken aback. They used to be such close friends growing up, but Kalen had cut ties with the Davison family after the break-up because it had just been too painful. Mikey, who had come running to help Kalen when he had been attacked and helped him through the pain of it because he couldn't have Marty there with him.
Kalen was staring at Mikey, trying to figure out if he should say hello or just make a hasty escape. That was exactly the struggle his mind was in when suddenly it felt like it blew up into a million pieces when a person identical to Mikey followed him out of the bathroom and banged into his back because he had obviously been expecting Mikey to keep moving.
Marty.
They both froze, gaping at each other. Kalen didn't even know how long he had frozen for but then he just turned and hurried away, pushing his way through the crowd to get away. But he couldn't miss the second part of the show. Justin didn't deserve people walking out of his audience for selfish reasons. So, he stayed. He stayed, only to realise that Mikey and his partner with Marty beside them were in the same row, and had been visible to each other the whole time without noticing. There was a stolen glance before Kalen swallowed heavily and then kept his eyes trained on the stage for the rest of the performance. He was going to get out of there before he had to talk to either the twins. He just had to because he wasn't ready to face this.
[ FACEBOOK ]
Jan. 2nd, 2015 11:26 pmsoldiersheart#throwbackthursday #about7hourslate Give me a break, I only just signed up to Facebook and learned what the eff a Throwback Thursday was. So, a photo and a song I listened to over and over around the time the photo was taken...
"He ain't heavy, he's my brother."
Jan. 2nd, 2015 03:06 amjustalittlecrushWho: Michael and Martin Davison
What: Catching up... or something like that
Where: Paris and Michael's home
When: Day after This
Michael was hungover. Paris had invited Marty to come stay with them for a few days and then made himself scarce by working back at the office so they had time to talk. Michael wasn't ready when push came to shove, though. Instead, he took to the liquor cabinet and got blind drunk when he usually wasn't much of a drinker at all. He hadn't had enough time to process that Marty was back, when all along he had thought things would just fall easily in place when Marty came home. Turns out, he was harbouring a lot of emotions he had pushed right down deep inside because it was the only way he could deal with him going away.
Now it was morning and he was feeling like shit. He dragged himself out of bed to pray to the porcelain god for awhile and now he was working on getting one foot in front of the other to the kitchen to make coffee. Marty was already up, and a pot of coffee was already brewing. Paris had probably stayed at the office thinking Michael was at home working on things with his brother but the while night was a bust. He silently made himself a cup of coffee and got a glass of water to drop a few aspirin in to try to help his pounding head. "Paris told me he kissed you."
What: Catching up... or something like that
Where: Paris and Michael's home
When: Day after This
Michael was hungover. Paris had invited Marty to come stay with them for a few days and then made himself scarce by working back at the office so they had time to talk. Michael wasn't ready when push came to shove, though. Instead, he took to the liquor cabinet and got blind drunk when he usually wasn't much of a drinker at all. He hadn't had enough time to process that Marty was back, when all along he had thought things would just fall easily in place when Marty came home. Turns out, he was harbouring a lot of emotions he had pushed right down deep inside because it was the only way he could deal with him going away.
Now it was morning and he was feeling like shit. He dragged himself out of bed to pray to the porcelain god for awhile and now he was working on getting one foot in front of the other to the kitchen to make coffee. Marty was already up, and a pot of coffee was already brewing. Paris had probably stayed at the office thinking Michael was at home working on things with his brother but the while night was a bust. He silently made himself a cup of coffee and got a glass of water to drop a few aspirin in to try to help his pounding head. "Paris told me he kissed you."
[ FACEBOOK ]
Jan. 1st, 2015 11:19 pmsharedmydreamsOh fuck, I'm so hungover. Bad idea to drink your feelings on New Year.
Bad, baaaaaad idea, Kalen.
Bad, baaaaaad idea, Kalen.
soldiersheartWho: Martin Davison, Paris Hart and (later) Michael Davison
What: Mistaken identities...
Where: FABULOUS HQ
When: New Years Eve morning
Marty had stood out on the sidewalk looking up at the fucking huge building with his mouth hanging open for a good few minutes before he even walked into it. He had gotten his phone out, checked the address his mom had emailed him, looked up at the building again, then double checked the address. This was it. It said F A B U L O U S across the entrance, so there wasn't really any doubts, but fucking hell. This just went to show how severed from the general run-of-the-mill society he had been in the recent years. He shouldn't be that surprised that Mikey had done so well for him, and it really wasn't that. It was just that Mikey wasn't a flashy guy, and this place had flash written all over it. It was all glass and stainless steel and expensive looking interior design.
As he rode the elevator up to the top floor, he scratched his fingers over the stubble on his cheek, feeling like he should have had a shave because this place was ultra-trendy and he was in faded Levis, a black Ghostbusters t-shirt with his leather jacket over the top. There was a chick giving him a strange side-eye look as they ascended and he was pointedly keeping his eyes trained on the illuminating numbers trying to pretend she wasn't looking at him as much as she was trying to pretend she wasn't staring. Luckily she got off before he did and he had the cubicle to himself for the last few floors.
And he stepped out into this fucking huge foyer with massive framed past covers of the magazine with a sweeping huge reception deck in the middle. There was even a fucking fountain and a cylinder pillar that was a fish tank with fish in it. How the fuck did they clean that out? He still remembered getting a gold fish for his eighth birthday and the poor thing died because he was too busy playing sport to remember to clean it. It had been a tiny bowl and cleaning that thing out had been enough of an effort. He stood there looking around, content to wait until the receptionist was off the phone before stepping up the counter to her to ask for Mikey.
That was when she was suddenly covering the mouthpiece with her hand and hissing at him, "I know, I know! I promise the Christmas decorations will be down before close of business so they don't go into 2015. Just..." She gave an harassed shake of her head and waved her hand towards one set of double doors to the left of the reception area, then went right back to her conversation. Personally, he couldn't see anything wrong with the decorations that probably cost more than his family's home in NJ, nor did he have an iota of a clue why she thought he would be upset by them. He was going to ask whether that meant he should just go in and see Mikey, or if he should knock on the door first. So, he just went over, knocked softly on the doors and went inside.
What: Mistaken identities...
Where: FABULOUS HQ
When: New Years Eve morning
Marty had stood out on the sidewalk looking up at the fucking huge building with his mouth hanging open for a good few minutes before he even walked into it. He had gotten his phone out, checked the address his mom had emailed him, looked up at the building again, then double checked the address. This was it. It said F A B U L O U S across the entrance, so there wasn't really any doubts, but fucking hell. This just went to show how severed from the general run-of-the-mill society he had been in the recent years. He shouldn't be that surprised that Mikey had done so well for him, and it really wasn't that. It was just that Mikey wasn't a flashy guy, and this place had flash written all over it. It was all glass and stainless steel and expensive looking interior design.
As he rode the elevator up to the top floor, he scratched his fingers over the stubble on his cheek, feeling like he should have had a shave because this place was ultra-trendy and he was in faded Levis, a black Ghostbusters t-shirt with his leather jacket over the top. There was a chick giving him a strange side-eye look as they ascended and he was pointedly keeping his eyes trained on the illuminating numbers trying to pretend she wasn't looking at him as much as she was trying to pretend she wasn't staring. Luckily she got off before he did and he had the cubicle to himself for the last few floors.
And he stepped out into this fucking huge foyer with massive framed past covers of the magazine with a sweeping huge reception deck in the middle. There was even a fucking fountain and a cylinder pillar that was a fish tank with fish in it. How the fuck did they clean that out? He still remembered getting a gold fish for his eighth birthday and the poor thing died because he was too busy playing sport to remember to clean it. It had been a tiny bowl and cleaning that thing out had been enough of an effort. He stood there looking around, content to wait until the receptionist was off the phone before stepping up the counter to her to ask for Mikey.
That was when she was suddenly covering the mouthpiece with her hand and hissing at him, "I know, I know! I promise the Christmas decorations will be down before close of business so they don't go into 2015. Just..." She gave an harassed shake of her head and waved her hand towards one set of double doors to the left of the reception area, then went right back to her conversation. Personally, he couldn't see anything wrong with the decorations that probably cost more than his family's home in NJ, nor did he have an iota of a clue why she thought he would be upset by them. He was going to ask whether that meant he should just go in and see Mikey, or if he should knock on the door first. So, he just went over, knocked softly on the doors and went inside.