The sky seemed to hang black, thick like smoke over Chester's little village, Hollyoaks. Ste sat gloomy under the Chez-Chez balcony, chinos stuck to his legs and jumper hanging with the rain sewn into its fabric. As if he didn't have enough weight on his shoulders. He ran his slender fingers through his drenched tufts of hair, making it stick up at odd angles.
"Oi, you!" Came a thick, Scottish accent. Ste glanced up, seeing the one and only, Joel – son of Foxy.
"What do you want?" Ste grumbled, hanging his head beneath his shoulders.
"Heard ya went to visit, Brendan, ay. Well, actually, I wasn't told… more screamed at for my persistent questions." Joel scowled, his tone scornful. Ste nodded slowly.
"And?" He asked.
"Do you know how rare it is to see tears on the face of a man like Brendan Brady?!" Joel snapped, infuriated by Ste's indifferent attitude. Ste looked up at him with tears welling in his own eyes. "I never thought I'd see it, after all this time of knowing him, but wee chavs like you just seem to bring out the emotional side of him, don't they?" Joel snarled.
"Yeah. I do. About three times I've seen it. Of course I've seen it, I've been here for longer than you have." Ste answered, gnawing on his bottom lip afterwards. He felt like shit and a confrontation from Brendan's little wingman was the last thing he wanted – or needed.
"And yet, I'm the one picking up the pieces! Do you even have a clue how much of an arsehole you've been?! Coming to visit him – after he's nearly been blown to pieces, might I add – just to drop another bombshell on him, telling him you're getting married?! You know how much he loves you! God knows why!" Joel yelled, causing Ste to stand up and get in his face.
"He doesn't love me! If he did, he wouldn't have shut me out! He wouldn't have put me through so much shit! But I care about him, anyway, no matter what you think!" Ste backfired, anger flooding his veins, spreading like wildfire.
"No, you're selfish! I care for him! I look up to him, he's my da'!" Joel snapped.
"Grow up, Joel, this isn't a competition! You wanna know why I told him? Huh? I went there to visit him because I was scared shitless that I'd lost him forever and when I found out that I hadn't, well, I was terrified, okay? Because I didn't know what I was going to say, or do, or act like! I had to say something to remind myself of who I'm supposed to love, of who I'm supposed to be with – and that's not Brendan, is it? He can't even say the word gay, last time I checked, never mind be in a relationship with me. Maybe I told him because I had to stop myself from throwing everything I have with Doug down the drain because I'm in love with someone who doesn't know how to!" Ste screamed, eyes widening and hands clamping over his own mouth when he realised how loud he'd shouted. Luckily, there was no one around; but a part of him wanted there to be, so he could end this façade and just try with Brendan. That's what he wanted to do, but he couldn't, could he? It was too risky.
Joel scoffed, shaking his head.
"Nah, you ain't in love with him. You wouldn't keep rejecting someone if you actually loved them as much as you claim to. Maybe it's you who doesn't know how to." Joel hissed, storming off before Ste had a chance to say anything more. He growled, infuriated with himself and enraged with Joel. At the same time, though, he felt guilty. His insides were knotting with guilt and self-loathing. He had been a prick towards Brendan, he knew he had. He just couldn't find any other way to deal with his feelings. He wondered, then, if maybe that's what was going through Brendan's head every time he smacked him – he couldn't find any other way to deal with his feelings.
He decided there was only one thing to do, now, but the thought of it made him tremble with anxiety. His heart thundered; he could hear its rhythm in his ears and his throat became dry, as he walked that familiar and short distance from the club, up those concrete stairs, to that blue door in the middle of the others.
With a quaking limb, he lifted his fist and rapped his knuckles on the door. He couldn't believe he was here, doing this. He didn't even know what reaction he'd get. Within minutes, a slowly healing Brendan answered the door, a blue tracksuit clinging to the cut of his muscles as he leaned on a single crutch.
"Steven…" Brendan mumbled, seeming unsure of himself.
"Uh… can I come in?" He asked, watching the way Brendan hesitated before nodding and stepping aside to let him in. Brendan closed the door and turned to look at him, that usual intense stare that made him feel as though he were being undressed and x-rayed. It made him burn all over, that stare. It made it seem as though he was the most fascinating being on the planet… and he couldn't help notice how much he'd missed that.
"Drink?" Brendan asked, but Ste shook his head. Brendan shrugged and hobbled over, sitting down on the sofa. Brendan looked up at Ste expectantly, so Ste sat down, a slight quiver in his bones. Brendan stared at him for a moment longer, the intensity of his gaze making the silence seem more smothering and Ste felt as though he was choking. Eventually, Brendan broke the all-consuming silence with the question Ste had been anticipating since before he arrived. "Why are ye here, Steven?"
"I'm sorry… for everything. For scamming you and for avoiding you… and for making you feel like shit."
And that was the start of their next chapter.
Sorry.
It's just a word.
But it means so much.
