Without You I'm Nothing (Chapter 39 up now!) | By : urbanephoenix Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Placebo Views: 5829 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction! I do not know any members of Placebo or their families, and I do not profit from these writings. |
STEFAN.
Stef was beyond relieved to see Brian dozing silently beside him when he woke the next morning. He needed to compose himself before the inevitable awkward conversation they were to have. Carefully slipping out of the bed, trying not to wake his friend, Stefan made his way to the bathroom. Like everything else in the apartment, it was spotless.
Despite the inconsistencies in their relationship, friendship, whatever you wanted to call it, Stef had always considered himself the mature one. The one who knew when to say things were going too far. Not this time.
He shivered as cold water ran down his bare back, waiting for it to warm up. What was he supposed to say when Brian woke up? The blonde rested his head against the tiled wall, trying to think of something, anything, to make this morning easier.
~~~
“Far?” Stef muttered nervously. His father was sitting in his old armchair in the lounge, newspaper in one hand, and scotch in the other. Just like every Saturday afternoon.
“Mph?”
“Far, it’s the tenth today.”
“So?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s my friend’s birthday. He’ll be twenty. I… I’m telling you now that I’m going into town… to call him.”
Mr. Olsdal looked up from his paper. “Is this your friend in London? Ben?”
“Brian,” Stef corrected. “yes.”
“Why are you telling me this? You know I have forbidden you to-“
“I don’t care! I’m going to call my friend.” He was having a hard time keeping his hands from shaking, a good time to leave, Stefan thought.
“Wait, boy. You cannot come in here to defy me and just leave!” Mr. Olsdal got to his feet. “You live under my roof, there are rules to be followed!”
“What’s your problem? What’s so terrible about calling my friend for his birthday?!” Stef was having a hard time keeping his voice down. The last thing he needed was to aggravate his father further.
“I am the man of this house, and-“
“But Far, it’s his birthday! It’s just one day!”
“I said no.”
"You can't stop me! I am not a child, and neither is he. I don't need you controlling my fucking life!"
"Don't speak to me like that, young man, I am your-"
“Fine! I’m leaving!”
Mr. Olsdal followed Stefan as he stormed up stairs.
“Leaving where?”
“Going home! Back to London.”
“You can’t just-“
Stef was fuming, he span around, at the top of the stairs, looking his father in the eye. “I can do whatever I want. I have the money to fly home tonight. And I will. You won’t stop me from talking to the person I love!”
He hadn’t meant to say it. In fact, he’d been trying very hard not to let it slip. As much as Stef had tried to ease his family into the idea of him being gay, he knew that deep down his father would probably never accept it.
“I absolutely forbid you to go!” His father was yelling now too. His face reddening, jaw clenched. “If you leave now, you will never be welcomed back.”
“Good! I never want to come back!” The blonde turned to go to his room for one last time but was pulled back by the wrist.
“Don’t turn your back on me, boy.” Mr. Olsdal growled, tightening his grip.
Stefan was fuming, no longer caring what was said or done. “I hate you.” He spat, looking his father in the eye.
Then there was black.
~~~
BRIAN.
The first thing Brian noticed when he woke was how empty the bed felt. Probably a good thing, he thought, getting up to get changed. He needed some time to work out what to say to Stefan.
~~~
“Happy birthday, sweetheart!”
Brian struggled out of his mother’s tight grasp. He wasn’t seven anymore, why did he need to get his presents at six in the morning?
“Thanks mum.” He smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Looking down to the end of his bed, Brian was surprised to find it bare. In past years, his mother had crept in early and piled brightly covered boxes full of clothes, books, and miscellaneous knickknacks. “No knitted sweater this year?”
“Son, you’re a man now, not a teenager.” His father beamed. “As such, we felt it was appropriate to give you something useful, something you can really use for your future.”
‘This isn’t going to be good.’ Brian thought to himself, slowly opening the envelope his dad had passed him. Inside was a letter, a four page letter at that.
“Thanks, uh… what is it?”
“It’s a university fund, darling.” Mrs. Molko explained. “You know, for next year when you go to business school.”
“Don’t you mean if I go?”
“Nonsense! This family has a strong history of business men, accountancy, all the respectable professions our society could not possibly function without.”
Brian frowned down at the letter. “Can I use the money to do something else?”
“This is about your future, Brian. What could be more important?”
“Yeah, but what about what I want for my future? What about arts school?”
"Art is not a career, Brian. It is a dream for those who can't dream any higher."
"I can’t be a fucking accountant!"
“Language, darling…”
“Son, I don’t think you understand. This isn’t a choice.”
Brian put the letter aside and got out of bed. “I’m going to school,” he grumbled. “you can keep the money.”
“Take the day to think about it, sweetie. We’re prepared to pay for your entire university education! Think about what that could mean for-“
“For what, mum? For my next 60 years on this planet? Most of those spent in an ugly suit in an office being told what to do? Jesus, if you guys knew anything about me, you’d know that’s exactly what I don’t want from my life.”
“Brian, don’t forget who you’re talking to-“
“Don’t tell me what to do. You don’t even know your own son! You know what? Fuck it, I’m not going to school after all.”
Mrs. Molko, rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “Honey, you have to go to school.”
“No I don’t. It’s my birthday, besides I need to be here.”
“What possible reason do you have for ‘needing’ to be here rather than at school where you belong?”
“I need to be here for when Stef calls.”
His father frowned. “Who?”
Brian had had it. “Get out!”
~~~
Brian walked into his dimly lit kitchen to find Stefan sitting at the table, coffee cup in hand.
“You know,” he started, pouring himself a cup. “you ruined my 20th birthday.”
“How, I wasn’t even there?”
“That was the problem.”
Stefan sighed, looking up. “I don’t know how to convince you how sorry I am. How many times do I have to apologise?”
Brian shrugged. “Tell me why you didn’t call and I’ll calculate it for you.”
“I’ve already told you tha-“
“Not good enough.”
“Well, whatever you decide, can we not resort to make-up sex again?”
“You call that make-up sex? It was awful, terrible even.” The smaller boy scoffed.
“Not our finest hour, no.”
“I’m not backing down, Stef. You have to go.”
“Can I still see you?”
“Probably not. I don’t think it’d be wise.”
Stef fidgeted with his mug, biting his lip. “What… what if I tell you everything?”
“About?”
“The past three and a half years. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. If that’s what it takes for you to trust me, I want to.”
Brian thought about this. It’s what he wanted, he needed to know what had happened for Stef to decide he was no longer worthy of being in his life.
“Ok, but I reserve the right to still kick you out.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
-------------------------
Wowzer, I can't remember the last time I updated twice in a week. Must be all the lack of sleep. Also this one is a little shorter 'cos the next one is shaping up to be an epic unfortunately.
Comments aren't necessary, but always appreciated.
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