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Billy stands in the bathroom and lets cold water wash over his hands. He swallows and tries to ignore that his throat is closing and the music from the living room is creeping through the door and the people outside still seem to crowd him even though he got as far away from the party as possible. Okay, he’ll be able to make it. It’s not that bad, he’s just focusing on this sinking feeling in his stomach too much. He’ll be alright, he just has to get together with people again, have a nice night, drink a bit, maybe get a girl into bed. The usual. What he did every couple of nights back in California. He just has to get back to a bit of his old routine. It will sort itself out. He will be just fine.
The door swings open and almost hits his side. “What the hell…”
“Oh, I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked.” Steve is peeking in and is already on the way out again. Thank god. Billy takes another deep, shaky breath.
“Are you alright?” Steve is back again and now he even stands inside the bathroom. Great, there’s no way to get out of here without getting Steve to move first.
“Yeah, sure. I just needed to wash my hands. I’m perfectly fine.” Steve will leave now. Please, just leave me alone. “If you step out of the door, I’ll leave you to it.” He clears his throat.
Steve’s expression suddenly changes into one looking like – worry?
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know if you want to, but you can talk to me. You seem like you need to talk to someone. I won’t tell anything, if you worry about that.”
“Really, Harrington? Is it your mission to become everybody’s mom now?”, Billy snaps at him.
“No, of course not. It was just an offer. I know how it feels when you can’t talk to someone. But it’s good, once in a while. It’s no weakness, or something.” Steve is getting quieter with every word, like he wants his sentences to be unheard as soon as he started them.
And suddenly everything wells up. Not just his frustration but everything. His throat closes up. He doesn’t get enough air when he breathes in, no matter how hard he tries. Something is blocking his throat.
“It, it all goes around. In my head.” How much he wants to get it all out, now that he started talking. What does it even matter? If Steve thinks he’s ridiculous, then who cares? It’s not like he would lose anyone. If Steve will think he’s crazy then so what. But what to tell first, of all the sadness, the doubts, the fear that is the constant background noise in his head these days. Before he can even decide for a starting point, the first tear is rolling down his face. He can’t do anything about it.
“Fuck, I never cry.” And now his throat is really blocked. Where is this need to cry coming from? He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, and to be as quiet as possible and just vanish in a corner and not feel all this pain and the pulling in his heart and the pressure around his chest anymore.
“Maybe that’s the problem. No, sorry, that’s not a problem! I don’t mean it like that.”, Steve adds without even taking a breath in between. “I just mean, ugh, just, maybe sometimes it’s good to cry. Even if it doesn’t solve your problem. You’re not adding everything up until it gets to much and you explode.”
Even if Billy knew what to say, he couldn’t get it out. Every word gets stuck in his throat. He will never be able to move his tongue again or make a sound. He never really tells anyone what he is worried or sad about. No one asks or even listens anyway. And the last time he thought someone did, she did not get at all what he meant. He doesn’t need to tell people about himself. He is a grown up. He can deal with his feelings by himself.
Even if it’s all pretending, nobody will know. Billy became so good at acting. And nobody ever noticed so far. And it’s not like people ever truly care, is it? When they ask, they just want to hear that he’s alright. And then talk about their own problems.
“Hey?” Steve is interrupting his racing thoughts. “Do you need a hug? If you don’t want to talk, that already helps sometimes. I, I just don’t want to do anything you don’t…”
And Billy interrupts his insecure rambling, surprising both Steve and himself by throwing himself into Steve’s arms. Or sagging into them. At least he hides his face by pressing it against his shoulder.
Steve doesn’t say anything anymore. He just closes his arms around Billy and starts rubbing his back slowly. Up and down, up and down, up again.
Billy still can’t talk, maybe all his thoughts will forever be stuck in his head because the words won’t get out of his mouth. But for now, a hug and ugly crying is more than he had in a long while.
Steve will offer an ear whenever he needs to. Till then his calm silence that can drown out a party’s noise might just be enough.