This Is Me

Part 39

Sean groaned in pain, waking from a dream he could no longer recall. Rolling back onto his back, he tried to breathe steadily. He had turned onto his hurt arm in his sleep and it was flaring up now. Arching back against the bed, he looked around the dark motel room for Mark. He wasn't here. Forcing himself to sit up slowly, he reached for the nightstand with his good arm. Flipping the switch, he saw a note in Mark's handwriting and a small bottle of pills. Reading over the note first, he glanced at the clock. Either the clock was wrong... or Mark was running late. Picking up the pill bottle, he was about to start cursing about how he'd get the lid off... When the cap fell off. Sean smirked to himself. Mark had thought of everything. Shaking out two pills, he popped them into his mouth before grabbing the cup of water. He hated pills... but at least he knew Mark wouldn't let him have these without good reason. Choking the large pills down, he flexed his fingers waiting for them to kick in.

After a brief visit to the restroom, the pills kicked in, making him feel suddenly light-headed. Laying back down quickly on the bed, he hit the remote for the TV. Yanking the remote out from under his leg, he just took a minute to stare at the awful stained ceiling. The side effects to these pills was a list long... but the top one was fatigue. The pills at least took away the pain in his arm. Didn't remove how badly he wanted to itch his arm though. He was thinking about drifting off again, when he heard someone on the TV mention his name. Rolling up onto his good elbow, he took interest. Watching the news broke his heart. They were making fun of him... and not just him, but Mark as well. A censored image of Mark dancing at a club was brought up on screen and compared to his erotic cage dance. Sean watched the image of Mark, seeing how young he had looked then and wondered if Mark was seeing this. Linda and her co-anchor joked about whether Mark could tell the difference between Skating and Stripping.

Sean shook his head in disgust. It amazed him that people like this existed in the world. Spreading such hate and humiliation on a global scale. Wiping a tear that ran down his cheek, he watched as they panned on the fans that were simply disgusted by his actions. They let the disgusted fans talk for a good long time. However, when they panned to any of the fans that liked the routines... they cut them off short. Or they panned to overly lusty fans that liked the routine. It was all edited and cropped down to make him look as bad as possible. Despite knowing that... it still hurt. He tried to change the channel, but he couldn't bring himself too. The question burned in him too badly. How far would they go to hurt him? Laying back down, he buried his face into his pillow to cry as the TV tore into his soul. Quintin's interview was the most hurtful.

Unlike the endless cruel jokes, Quintin's words were meant to be cruel. "I bet he paid that kid off to step down, but it doesn't matter. He does that routine at Regionals... He'll be going home in a wheelchair. Not only will the fool hurt himself. But he will look like a fool doing it. The routine was so stiff... and not in a good way. If he calls that sex appeal. Rasputin will crush him. You can't teach an old dog new tricks... and from that performance... that dog needs to be put down." The motel door opened, but Sean didn't have the mental strength to even care who it was. He'd let any murder or thief do as they pleased. Nothing was worse than what he had heard. The lights flicked on seconds before something hit the TV to shut it off. Sean stared blankly across the room into the bathroom. He felt numb and couldn't tell if it was the pills or the news. Mark's warm voice filled the empty silence by sweetly telling him. "I tried to get back before you saw that... but I got caught up with preparations for the trip to Canada."

Sean's voice was cold and dead as he mumbled out. "I'm not going. I'm scratching out." Mark set down something that sounded like rustling bags. Sean sniffled softly, trying to keep his face hidden in the pillow. Mark moved closer, touching his ankle and sliding his hand very slowly up the curves of his leg. At his hip, Mark stopped moving to tell him in a deep loving voice. "Jack... Don't let them win." Sean felt more tears run down his face, when he mumbled out in a broken voice. "I don't care anymore..." Mark sat down on the bed, petting Sean's lower back, upon telling him seriously. "You do, or you wouldn't want out. Jack, don't let them bully you out of what you love." Sean buried his face in the pillow, mumbling out through tears. "I was a fool..." Mark huffed, telling him sweetly. "You've never been a fool. Stubborn and hard-headed, defiantly. But you had the courage to go out there and try."