31st 2008 (A few seconds before midnight). The Loft, Hollyoaks, Chester.
Five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year.
John Paul watched as the Loft burst into a volume of colours as balloons and streamers fell from the ceiling. The room seemed to explode in a chorus of cheers and "Auld Lang Syne" as the first seconds of the New Year were ushered in. John Paul stood frozen as the celebrations seemed to swirl around him in a mixture of sights and sounds that bore no relation to the man stood in the centre of them. Couples and strangers kissed like old lovers while friends and enemies drank a toast to the future.
"Happy New Year John Paul," the dark haired girl pressed her lips gently against John Paul's, waking him from his reverie, and hugged him close for a second before skipping into the massed crowd to see what other kisses she could claim before it was too late.
"Happy New Year Summer," John Paul called to her retreating back.
"You trying to make me jealous by kissing all the pretty girls?" A voice asked behind him, the breath hot and close in John Paul's ear.
"Of course," John Paul replied with a smile as he turned to look into the deep brown depths of his boyfriend's eyes.
John Paul never tired of looking into those eyes; there was a beauty in them that didn't fade no matter how often he saw them. John Paul's smile deepened as he ran his hands over the softly muscled forearms of his boyfriend and, not for the first time, John Paul knew he was a very lucky man.
If anyone had locked John Paul in a room and told him to describe his perfect man then he would have put into words the figure of the man now stood before him. A firm muscular body, toned but not overly so, a form that spoke of a deep hidden strength rather than a overt physical prowess, eyes that seemed to look deep into your heart and understand what secrets it held without ever having to be told, framed by thick luscious lashes that made them even more mysterious, a soft full mouth that would kiss as gently as the touch of a feather or as forcefully as a tiger depending on the mood and soft brown hair, that had grown over the last six months to droop casually into his eyes as he spoke. John Paul's perfect man, his dream man and the man he now shared his life with.
"Happy New Year John Paul, I love you."
The kiss was deep and tender, John Paul's lips parting to welcome in the warm tongue in an exchange that momentarily drove away the outside world making the noise and bustle of the busy club a mere background disturbance.
"Happy New Year Jason," John Paul replied as he pulled back from the kiss hoping, as he had done countless times before, that his boyfriend hadn't noticed his total avoidance of the "I love you" part of his declaration.
It wasn't the first time Jason had said those words, and it wasn't the first time that John Paul had tried everything he could not to respond. He cared about Jason and he didn't want to lie to him, not like that, so he couldn't tell the man that he loved him back because it wasn't true. As much as John Paul hated to admit it his heart still belonged to another brown-eyed man who had stolen it away and never brought it back. So every time Jason said those three simple words John Paul would chose not to hear them, or he would thank Jason for saying them, or he would kiss the man deeply, or even lead him into the bedroom. Anything rather than actually reply, anything than repeat the words that would only ever be true when he spoke them to Craig.
Slipping his arm around John Paul's waist Jason seemed oblivious to John Paul's lack of response and instead began to point out the drunken antics of several of their university friends who had obviously drunk too much of the New Year punch.
December 31st 2008 (A few seconds before midnight). O'Neill's, Dublin, Ireland.
Five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year.
Craig sighed as the club erupted into a tuneless chorus of "Auld Lang Syne" and the revellers began the usual round of drunken singing and varying attempts to snog anyone who might pass by. Craig had worked the club long enough to know the routine and he gladly stepped back against the optics fully aware that his services wouldn't be required again for the next few minutes.
"Happy New Year Craig," Caroline said brightly as she kissed his cheek. Caroline had started working at O'Neill's only a few weeks after Craig and like Craig was experiencing her second New Year's Eve in Dublin. Despite having worked with the young blonde woman for over a year Craig knew very little about her, but that was more due to his lack of interest than any attempts at secrecy on her part.
"At least smile," Caroline goaded, "You'll put people off their beer looking like that."
Craig pasted a fake smile on his face until Caroline disappeared into the throng of merry party goers at which point the smile faded and the usual look of empty loss reappeared. Craig wasn't in the least bit concerned about putting anyone off their beer, he knew this crowd and it would take more than a scowl from the barman to upset them, short changing them maybe, but as long as the beer kept flowing then Craig could smile or cry and they really wouldn't care.
Craig had happily volunteered to work New Years Eve, just as he had Christmas Eve and would for any other celebration that might come along. It wasn't so much for the extra money, although that would always come in handy, but Craig knew that as long as he had the salvation of working behind the bar then no one would try and force him into having fun on the other side of one.
Craig watched as the whole world seemed to party without him, isolated in a small bubble that would keep everyone at a distance. He couldn't risk letting anyone get too close, Craig had made that mistake once before and he was still paying the price, he was still hurting from the loss that was over twelve months old and he was determined never to let anyone touch his life like that again.
Looking into the crowd Craig realised he was doing it again. Despite the fact that he was in a different city, a whole different country Craig would still scour the customers for the merest hint of bright blue eyes in the vainest of hopes that John Paul would walk unexpectedly through the doors. But of course he never did, he never would, what they had shared had been wonderful and fleeting and all that Craig had to cling on to were the memories and the dreams of what could have been.
Craig sighed as his eyes flickered to the old clock above the door. It was still only 12.15, why had he agreed to stay back after closing and help clear up? At the time the promise of extra cash and a little less time alone to brood had seemed like a good idea but now Craig felt exhausted and he wanted nothing more that to escape from the enforced hilarity that seemed to be buzzing all around him.
A customer tapping his empty glass impatiently on the bar brought Craig back to the present moment as for a while he was able to lose himself in the busy job of serving many thirsty patrons at the same time.
---
John Paul curled his legs in front of him as he wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees. The lamp in the corner of the room cast a warm orange glow over his surroundings but John Paul felt anything but warm. He felt the burn of the emptiness that he always did at moments like these and, as usual, he rocked quietly to himself on the sofa as Jason slept soundly in the other room.
They had left the Loft some time before 1am and sauntered casually back to Jason's flat together. The walk had been comfortable and John Paul had taken pleasure in his boyfriend's company as they strolled hand in hand through the crisp new January morning.
After closing the front door Jason had pulled John Paul close to him, staring deeply into the bright blue eyes that he adored he had once again declared his love.
John Paul's immediate reaction had been to cover Jason's mouth with his own; to kiss him deeply while instantly preventing any need for a verbal response. While he wasn't exactly lying to Jason John Paul still felt the guilt at allowing the man to believe they shared more than they really did.
It hadn't taken long for the kiss to lead to more and in the room where Jason now slept they had made love. Or at least Jason had made love. Not only did the man have a stunning body but he also knew exactly what to do with it and he had expertly given John Paul the pleasure that his physical being craved. Jason had made love to him. John Paul had simply had sex.
No matter how much he hated himself for doing it as Jason held him and kissed him John Paul had closed his eyes and pictured the man he really wanted to be sharing his body with. He had touched Jason and wished he was Craig, kissed Jason and imagined it was Craig, slept with Jason and pretended it was Craig. The longer his relationship with Jason lasted the stronger the memories of Craig became as if the love he had been trying to forget was refusing to be dismissed. As if the man he really wanted was never going to let him go.
---
Casting his eyes around the bar Craig was pleased to see the place looking spotless. It was 3am and his exhaustion had taken on a whole new meaning but part of him felt comfort in the knowledge that his physical state should at least guarantee him a decent nights sleep without the haunting memories that so often plagued his dreams.
Without thinking about it Craig pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through the address book. Craig's finger paused as it landed on John Paul's name. Despite never having used the number since the day that John Paul had walked away from him Craig hadn't been able to delete it. He didn't even know if John Paul had kept that number but somehow it was a tenuous link to the past. The connection was still there if he needed it, if he was ever brave enough to use it.
---
John Paul closed his eyes and tried to encourage the need for sleep to come to him. It was gone 3am and yet he still felt as awake as he had done hours ago. Sitting in the semi-dark of Jason's flat John Paul couldn't stop his thoughts returning to the summer of 2007 when, for the briefest time, John Paul had been the happiest he had ever been in his life. He had known love and it had been wonderful. Then he had known loss and he had thought he would never recover. Now John Paul knew existence and it was all he had to cling to. Getting through every day and grabbing what small pleasures he could from life, when he could.
That was how he had first met Jason. A drunken one-night stand that had turned into two, then three, then a month and without realising it John Paul had found himself in the kind of relationship he had always wanted. The only problem being that it wasn't with the right man.
John Paul jumped as his mobile vibrated on the cushion beside him. He grabbed it quickly and prayed that its sound hadn't woken Jason. Feeling a mild irritation that someone should text him at such an hour John Paul prepared to curse one of his sisters for a drunken early morning greeting.
The name on the display did not belong to one of his sisters.
The name on the display hadn't been shown there for over a year.
The name on the display was Craig.
John Paul's hand shook as he accessed the message and tears tumbled unbidden down his face at the three words he read. The pain and loss he managed to keep locked away most of the time flooded from him as he read a greeting from the only man he had ever loved. The only love he had ever lost.
From a million miles and a lifetime away Craig had reached out to him with three words that broke his heart.
The message on John Paul's mobile blurred away as his vision became clouded with his tears but he would never forget what it said.
In a moment of madness Craig Dean had keyed in a text and hit send before he could change his mind.
In a moment of sadness John Paul McQueen had received the text that meant more to him than any other message ever would.
"Happy new year."
---
"John Paul is everything all right?" Jason asked as he shuffled into the room rubbing his sleepy eyes.
Quickly closing the text message John Paul let his phone fall casually to the side.
"Yeah, fine," he mumbled.
"Did I hear your phone go off?"
"Yeah… it was Jacqui…"
"At this hour?"
"Well you know my sisters when they've had a few… no concept of time!" John Paul winced inwardly at how easily the lies tumbled from his lips. How easily the lies had always come when it was in relation to Craig.
"Have you been crying?" Jason crouched before his boyfriend noticing the tears that streaked the young man's cheeks.
In his discomfort and fear of discovery John Paul has forgotten the tears that had flowed so freely only moments early and brushed them angrily from his face.
"Really, it's nothing," he lied. Another lie. Another lie because of Craig.
Jason gently stroked the dampness of John Paul's cheek. "Come on, you're upset… tell me what's wrong… please John Paul it worries me to see you like this."
The deep look of concern in Jason's eyes made John Paul want to scream. He didn't deserve Jason's sympathy or concern; in fact if he were honest John Paul knew that he didn't deserve Jason. How could he tell that lovely man the reason behind his tears? How could he tell his boyfriend that he was sat mourning a lost love and that an unexpected text from that love had thrown his head and his heart into total turmoil. The answer was obvious, he couldn't and so, as much as he hated doing it, John Paul heard more lies falling from his mouth.
"Really," he said with fake reassurance, "It's nothing… just the whole end of a year thing… I guess I get the blues when I look back on all the things I didn't get to do… or say…" Like telling Craig Dean how much I miss him and how much I love him.
Jason smiled affectionately into John Paul's tear filled eyes. "I never realised you were such a softee," he said as he touched his lips to John Paul's forehead, "Why don't you come back to bed… maybe I can find a way to cheer you up."
---
Craig took the walk back to his flat slowly, his mobile phone clutched tightly in his hand as he hoped with every step that the man he had reached out to would send a reply.
As he slid his key into the front door Craig felt deflated. He tried to tell himself that maybe John Paul had changed his number, or maybe his phone was switched off, but Craig couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the real truth. John Paul McQueen had moved on and a New Year's greeting from Craig no longer held any meaning to him.
Looking around his small flat Craig sighed. No matter what time of day, what time of year, the flat always felt cold and dark, nothing ever seemed to take the chill away and nothing ever seemed to brighten its dark corners.
Collapsing onto his threadbare sofa Craig's mind wandered back to the day he had moved in to the place that was to be his home for the three years he studied at Trinity. It was supposed to be the home that he shared with John Paul but that plan was not meant to be. It still amazed how things could have changed so much in the space of a day, no, in the space of a few hours.
When Craig Dean left Chester it had been with a head full of dreams and a heart full of love. When he reached Dublin all that he had left was a head full of broken memories and a heart full of pain. Craig had replayed the moment that John Paul had walked away from him at the airport a hundred times and each time seemed to be more painful than the last. The final instant as John Paul turned to look back one last time, his eyes full of disappointment and pain and then he was gone.
With every replay Craig wondered if things could have been different if he had had the courage to be the man John Paul wanted him to be. But he didn't have that courage. Craig Dean wasn't the man John Paul needed, maybe he never had been and now it seemed that he never would be.
---
Jason's hand stroked softly over John Paul's bare chest as he lay in the warmth of the bed that Jason had occupied alone whilst John Paul had sat in the other room holding on to the memories of Craig.
His touch was gentle and caring and John Paul fought the urge to slap the hand away. He wasn't sure how much longer he could actually go on living this lie, not if Craig wanted… what? What did he think Craig wanted? For all John Paul knew Craig could have sent a broadcast greeting to everyone in his phonebook, not even realising that John Paul's number was still there. For all John Paul knew Craig could have been drunk and feeling a moment of nostalgia. For all John Paul knew Craig could still love him.
Jason's lips seemed to burn into John Paul's skin until the man could stand their touch no longer.
"Leave it will yer," John Paul complained as he pushed Jason from him.
"What? I was just trying to make you feel better…"
"Well you aren't so just lay off." John Paul knew he was being unfair the second the words harshly left his mouth. The hurt glowed in Jason's soft brown eyes in the half-light of the room as John Paul turned his back on his boyfriend and pulled the duvet up to his chin.
"I'm sorry," Jason whispered in a voice on the edge of tears, "I didn't mean to upset you I just wanted to…"
The guilt crashed over John Paul and he felt the kind of shame he hadn't known in a long time. Turning over slowly in the bed he brushed his fingers lightly over Jason's cheek.
"No, I'm sorry," he said in a remorseful tone, "I think I'm just tired and cranky, I didn't mean to take it out on you. Why don't we get some sleep eh?"
Jason smiled as he moved into John Paul's arms and rested his head against the man's strong chest.
"Goodnight John Paul," he said as he closed his eyes, "Sweet dreams."
"You too," John Paul replied kissing the top of Jason's hair.
John Paul listened as Jason's breathing grew steady and deep in a restful slumber and lay quietly in the darkness waiting for the sleep that still eluded him.
Closing his eyes John Paul recalled the last time he had ever seen Craig Dean. He could picture the man's face perfectly, watching as he walked away, a look of hurt and disbelief in his beautiful brown eyes. John Paul couldn't help but wonder if things might have been different if he'd had the courage to go with Craig. If he'd believed that Craig loved him enough to make it work but Craig hadn't even loved him enough to stop him leaving. Maybe Craig had never loved him but somehow John Paul couldn't accept that theory. Craig Dean loved him. If everything else in the universe proved to be lies John Paul had to cling onto that one nugget of truth.
"Happy New Year Craig," John Paul breathed into the silence of the room.
----
Craig winced as the morning light pierced his closed eyelids and assaulted his brain. Forcing one eye open a fraction he realised that once again he had fallen asleep on the small cramped sofa rather than making it to his cold bed. The empty lager cans and half drunk bottle of vodka that were strewn on the floor beside him told of an unconsciousness that had been achieved in that room rather than any restful sleep.
Rubbing a hand over his face Craig wondered if he had the energy to pull the curtains closed and return to the blissful void that the bright light had dragged him from. Lifting himself upright Craig gasped as the room lurched violently around him and he had to pause until the strong rush of nausea passed and he could get to his unsteady feet.
Hardly a drop of alcohol had passed his lips during the evenings shift at the pub, despite the numerous "one for yourself" offers and he had returned home in the early hours stone cold sober. It was during those early hours, alone in his flat, that Craig had begun drinking. Every passing moment that his phone remained silent pushed another can of lager and another vodka chaser down his throat until the oblivion claimed him and the pain, disappointment and loneliness were lost to the darkness.
But as always the darkness didn't last and the morning's light reminded Craig why he had started drinking in the first place and what he was trying, unsuccessfully, to forget. Glancing at the clock Craig realised he had probably managed less than four hours sleep but now that he was upright the need seemed to desert him and he looked around his empty flat with despair.
He wasn't sure how his life had come to this. In the summer of 2007 he had everything he ever dreamed of and a wonderful future to look forward to. On 1st January 2009 he was alone and a future seemed something for other people.
Of course Frankie had asked, or rather begged, her son to come home again this Christmas, just like she had the year before. But Craig had once again lied his way out of the visit by claiming parties and friends and too many social promises to be kept. Dublin, it seemed, couldn't spare her son and Frankie, although disappointed not to see him, was relieved that Craig had built a new life for himself and put all that "unpleasantness" behind him. A bitter laugh fell from Craig's lips, if only Frankie knew the truth. But then no one knew the truth about Craig Dean any more because that was the way he wanted it.
The old Craig had been full of hopes and dreams. The Craig that arrived in Dublin had given up on dreams since the most important one he ever had abandoned him. He realised that it was better not to want anything from life, that way he could never be so disappointed again.
Rubbing a hand over his weary face Craig took a deep breath. It was New Years Day. The start of a whole new year and Craig decided it was time to make that start. It was time to move forward and stop looking back. It was time to let go of what could never be and get through the rest of university as best he could.
Pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans Craig scrolled through its list of names before stopping on "John Paul" and then he did the one thing he hadn't been able to do since the day he left Chester. Craig hit delete. He sighed as the name that he had stared at for countless empty nights was permanently removed from his phone. At least now he wouldn't be tempted to try any make contact again. At least now he wouldn't have to experience the bitter sting of rejection again.
Laying his phone on the table Craig remembered one more link to the past that had to go. Fishing his wallet from the pocket of the jacket that hung over the sofa's back Craig felt the familiar pang of longing as he flipped open the leather covering to see two smiling faces looking back at him.
When Craig had packed the photos of him and John Paul it had been with a view to decorate the flat, their flat, with them. But after arriving in Dublin on his own the pictures had all been torn to shreds and thrown away, all but one. One single photograph had survived the tearful massacre and had found its way into Craig's wallet where it lived as a constant reminder of everything that he had lost. Running his thumb over the tuxedo clad duo Craig's vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. Slipping the picture from its protective casing Craig said a final goodbye to his past as he took a last look at the face of the man he couldn't stop loving, no matter how hard he tried, and crumpled the picture into a ball before tossing it into the waste paper basket by his feet.