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Too pearly, too luxurious.
That was what the Duke's mansion was like and without being straight up drunk Conor wouldn’t have had the confidence to walk in. With a smug grin the Duke stood in his way.
«I’m here for Shane.»
Conor was surprised how unstable his words were and realized he wasn’t even able to stand without swaying. His eyes focused on the person that sat on a velvet lounge behind the Duke, the blonde hair standing out.
«I beg your pardon?» The Duke asked with a smug grin, his arms folding in front of that stupid designer suit.
Conor breathed out, «I am here for Shane.»
His eyes focused onto the face of the Duke that he wanted to punch so bad as he added, «to take him away.»
«Be my guest,» the Duke grinned and took a step away from Conor, but he then continued speaking, «but he might not want to, you should ask him first.»
This was easy, too easy, Conor he didn’t think twice. His steps were sluggish, and he fell in front of the velvet lounge, Shane not even looking at him.
«Shane,» Conor croaked and got himself into an upright position again, «I love you.»
He reached his hand out towards the young man who still showed his back to him before he begged, «fly away with me.»
There was no reaction from Shane. No yes, no jumping upright and ready to leave the hellhole he was in, because he literally got sold into it.
«Come what may,» Conor said softly as he looked at the back of the love of his life, «come what may..»
Shane didn’t react, the only thing Conor noticed the unease breathing from a suit that was too tight.
«I will lov-»
Conor’s motivation to touch Shane died when the taller one got up from the lounge and looked down at him.
«You’re embarrassing yourself,» Shane stated, his voice sharp and unforgiving, «what makes you think I would give up all this and this beautiful man to run away with you?»
That was enough to let Conor’s heart sink. Those words hurt more than the sheer panic he felt all those weeks hiding behind stage probs to kiss Shane.
«Your delusion is pathetic,» Shane continued with the same harsh voice as he smiled at the Duke before turning back to Conor and added, «so hear me now for once and for all.»
Conor looked at Shane’s face, trying to read anything from it, but the brutal truth hit his soul faster than he wanted.
«You mean nothing to me,» Shane stated as he took a step closer to Conor. A dagger right into the dark haired man’s heart.
«I feel nothing for you,» Shane said which twisted the dagger in Conor’s heart.
«You are nothing,» Shane said as Conor let his view sink, not able to look at him any second longer.
Shane roughly grabbed Conor’s face, which was easy since he towered inches over him, and continued, «nothing.»
Conor could hear his heart hammering inside his ears as he gave an unrecognizable nod. He wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up or faint, he wasn’t sure if Shane just ripped his heart out and watched him bleed out.
The pain only worsened when the Duke walked up to them, putting his arm around Shane and told Conor, «I think you know the way out, lad.»
That was what Conor did, leave, but not without a thought forming in his head. His heart beating like crazy, reminding him that he was alive, alive but not for love.
💚🧚♀️✨🍾
The multiple voices faded away as Conor stepped away from the street where some ensemble members smoked, the absinthe still in his system as he stumbled against the next wall.
«Lad, you need to get up!»
Conor’s eyes only half focused on the figure in front of him.
«Zidler will make me go up on stage, if you’re not getting ready in like two minutes, lad!»
The voice sounded clearer, familiar, Zach. Go on stage? The show. The show he wrote, the show that was everything he lived for … but why else live if not for love?
«That green fairy got him bad.»
Mason? That had to be Mason be talking. Right?
Then a sharp sting on Conor’s cheek got him back into reality. The two figures in front of him were in fact Zach and Mason, both dressed, both ready.
Conor tried to find a grip on the wall as he wanted to get up … two minutes. He wanted to be on stage, to see the person his heart craved the most one last time. Zach and Mason pulled him up, supported him against the wall as Conor felt like throwing up all liquor he drank during the night.
What did that shitty Duke say? He should be learning how to handle his liquor, but honestly Conor didn’t want to, because for now he had control over one last thing in his life and that was far something else than liquor.
The hidden treasure inside Conor‘s jacket suddenly felt much heavier than before, but it took him back onto his mission, what he wanted, what he needed. With a force he shrugged Mason and Zach away and looked at their faces.
«Take care, lads,» Conor said with much more clarity than he had a few seconds ago.
Without listening to each one of them he walked to the wings, his position before he needed to get on stage. The prop for the scene long forgotten on the table, because today he didn’t need it, those weren’t rehearsals, this was the pure reality.
In the edges of Conor’s eyes the world was still spinning, but he ignored everything as he finally heard the clear voice of his desire. The diamond of the Moulin Rouge, the person he fell in love with just a few weeks ago and that fell for him too through a mistake.
Was this what Conor was? A mistake?
Probably he was. The blonde lad wouldn’t even have looked at someone from the underside. Someone like him, who didn’t have a penny in his pocket, but a handful of notes with songs.
Zidler walked past Conor and if he wasn’t that drunk he would have guessed there was something like pity in the eyes of him. He noticed the unease in the eyes, the tears in the corner – alright Conor was drunk.
The moment the audience noticed Conor’s state the mumbling about how accurate the performance of a drunk love sick poet was. Oh, if they would have only known.
«You mustn’t be here,» Shane said, his back towards Conor, their roles to act aching so much more than during rehearsals, «if he sees you it will go badly for us both.»
As if the reality wasn’t going much worse than all of this.
«You know what a monster he is.»
Conor scoffed, «I’m walking the streets, all I can see is you and him…»
His words are true and in that very moment he hates that he wrote a play with Mason and Zach about his own unfortunate story.
«My heart can’t take it..»
Shane’s lip quivered, «I don’t love you.»
He didn’t dare to look at Conor, not sure if he would fall out of his role of a lad in distress and run up to the love of his life, apologizing, kissing him, because he does love him so very deeply.
There was a silence between them both, the audience took in the scene with big interest, because no one knew they were actually suffering and running towards a disaster.
«Then do it…let me die for love.»
Shane didn’t turn around like it was in the script, which seemed like running blindly into madness which he probably was.
Conor’s voice sounded, «look at me.»
Off script, they were so off script.
«Look at me, Shane!»
Shane turned around in horror at the rough voice of his beloved Conor. The audience visible flinched at the name slipping past the poets lips.
Conor stood only a few steps away from Shane, the gun which used to be a prob being a real one, straight in Conor’s hand and firmly directed into his chest.
«Why else live, if not for love?» Conor asked.
That was it, the end, the end if Shane didn’t react.
«No!» Shane cried and reached his hand out to the poet. One wrong move and this would end badly, the first audience members left their seats. «Come what may…»
Conor hesitated, before pushing the head of the gun tighter into his chest.
«Come what may,» Shane said, stepping closer, but with the pressure of the world on top of his shoulders, «I will love you, until my dying day.»
The bang that echoed through the room wasn’t a shot, but the cold metal falling onto the ground of the stage, as Conor fell onto his knees openly sobbing like a kid.
Shane didn’t lose a second, sprinting towards him, his arms wrapped around the poet and squeezing him. Someone closed the curtain thankfully and Shane let some tears run down his face.
Zach was the one to throw the gun far away, one of the Cancan girls was the one who pushed some tissue into Shane’s hand and the next thing that happened was just darkness for Conor.
Hours later Conor got out of that darkness.
«It’s okay, calm down.»
Conor trashed around, his rest found an end and pain welcomed him back into reality. Absinthe was the worst, and he made a vow to never ever drink any of it.
«You’re okay.»
Long golden curls in front of Conor were making him question if he wasn’t awake at all.
«Lads, he’s awake,» Shane called and Conor winced. Too loud, too much. Shane’s fingers on his face felt too good to be true. So soft and real, full of love.
Shane looked at him with so much care, too much care. He didn’t love him, he was nothing.
«You can tell everybody, this is your song…» Shane whispered and pressed a soft kiss against Conor’s temple, «it may be quite simple, but now that it’s done.»
Conor smiled softly, «I hope you don’t mind…that I put down in words.»
«How wonderful life is now you’re in the word.»