Five

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Angst.

Original chapter published in Short Stories.

*****

Two years ago

He woke with a start.

The moment he opened his eyes to the blaring light of the sun, he felt like there was a repeated echo of hammering against an anvil, making his head pound. He grunted aloud at the sensation, shutting his eyes, willing the pain to go away. He was lying on his stomach, and he buried his head back onto thepillow to gather a little bit of clarity.

That's when he felt an arm loop around his bare waist, and a kiss on the skin on his shoulder. For a moment, he felt discombobulated, his brain trying to reconcile if he had actually went home to his fiancée like he had strongly wanted for weeks. He missed Kaycee so much; he couldn't deny the painful, gaping hole in his heart.

He forced himself to face her, meeting clear, brown eyes and thick, auburn curls. He was about to pull her against him, when his brain registered that this was not the hazel eyes he loves, not the curls he used to ran his hands through. Loud, ringing bells alarmed inside his head, and so he shot up from the bed, distancing himself from the stranger as far as he could bring himself.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked as she sat up, too, gripping the comforter against her naked chest, a frown marring her forehead.

She was one of the dancers he was with on tour.

Sean could only grip his head in his hands, a wave of nausea not relating to his hang-over hitting him. He could feel the bile running up his throat and he knew he would violently throw up at any second now.

"Hey. Sean, are you ok—?" the woman tried to touch him, but he violently jerked away.

"G-Get out. Get out!" his voice was shaking uncontrollably.

"Asshole," the woman muttered, scoffing. "You fucking men fuck the fuck out of us, then the next day you're guilt-tripping us. If these hickeys were any indication, I'd say you very much enjoyed last night, Sean –"

He didn't want to hear anymore. "Th-this is a mistake. I-I am a-about to get married..." his last statement trailed as a whisper – regret, fear and anger towards himself overwhelming him.

"Yeah, as if I don't know that," she answered, tone indignant. "But you didn't seem to remember that you have a fiancée when you had me and Sophie last night." Her voice was smug, arrogant.

His body turned ice cold; he didn't know there was another woman.

"Get the fuck out!" he yelled, turning his back to her.

His whole body was now shaking, a cry raging inside his chest.

He could hear the unnamed woman chuckle bitterly, followed by her subtle movements on the bed. "You're not a fucking saint, Sean. I hope everything goes well with you and Kaycee."


Everything in him felt hollow. He didn't know how he had survived the last two weeks on tour walking and working lifelessly, just getting the work done. He had confessed to Tucker and Fefe what had happened that night and the two mentors just sat there, silent, unknowing of what to tell him. They were both loving husbands to their wives, and Sean perfectly knew that they were thinking of Kaycee more than anything else. And after a long stretch of silence, Tucker patiently told the younger to hold it together until the tour finished, and until then, he had to work his ass off, and that the older would help him figure everything out.

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