Title: The Four Stages
Prompt: 003. "I know well what I am fleeing from but not what I am in search of." - Michel de Montaigne
Character: Chad I. Ginsburg
Pairings: mentions of past Chad/Deron.
Fandom: CKY
Word count: 1107
Rating: PG-13+
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to be affiliated in some way with these lovely men, I am not. They are real people, therefore they own themselves and live their life as they would please. There's no proof of this ever happening but hey, I can dream right?

licenseartistic August 2008 Prompt

WARNING: If swearing and mentions of a man/man relationship may offend you, DON'T click the link!

The lights burn into my skin, sweat pouring from every gland in my body. The fans in the front row go wild as I discard my shirt in between songs. I flash a smile to the faces in the crowd, screaming into the mic for more chants. Their voices erupt like a big boom and I'm glowing from head to toe. Nothing has ever been this satisfying to my soul and body since--. I don't allow myself to finish that thought. Forget the past, forget the past. I let the words cloud my mind until the only thing I can feel is the guitar against my body. I block out everything in sight, trying to get back to a sensible state of mind. For some reason tonight it's unable to work. They always tell you to avoid the past and stop living in it, but for me it's impossible. How can you quit basking in your past when it stands on stage next to you every night? When their bunk is right underneath yours in a bus you share for weeks on the road? I mean come on, the past is impossible to zone out when it's staring at your face. I look into the blue eyes that seemed to create a magnetic pull with mine. I try to blink, to look away, something, but it's too hard tonight. Finally my body catches up with my mind and turns my back to him. I play to the crowd and forget about the sandy haired man to my left.

It only lasts for so long. My mind starts going back to a time when words came easy. Two more songs left, just two more, you can do this. I think to myself trying to drone the past out with my blasting guitar. Hands reach up for me, to touch whatever part of my body they can reach. I flash them a smile but there not the one's I'm thinking of. I shake my head and try to jiggle it back into place. Three months ago this never would've been a problem. I could play a show without thinking about anything. Just me, my guitar and some good ol' JD. Three months ago we had still been in the 'feuding' stage. Not talking to one another unless it was business. Barely looking at one another during an interview, shows or anything like that. Then you decided the feuding stage was over and we should enter 'recovery' stage. I was unable to comprehend how you could switch on and off like that. Jesus christ, I was still in the denial stage! Acting as though our relationship had meant nothing to me, playing it off like you were just another person to me.

According to you there were four stages that come into play after a relationship fails. Denial, feuding, recovery and then eventually friendship. We both entered the denial stage together but somehow you're now recovering and I'm still there. I don't understand it! How can you agree with me when I told you I loved you more than anything and then be able to recover from it so damn quick? It has been six months but to me it's like it was yesterday. I have to give all my strength just to be able to function like a normal person. While you can sit there and talk to me about everyday stuff like nothing ever happened. It fucking warps my mind so bad.

Since you started talking to me once more, it's been harder to close out the feelings I had and still have for you. It's like you created a new one: longing. Goddamn how I hated that feeling. Almost as much as I hated you right about now. The show is ending and we're signing a few autographs to some fans up front. I race out of the venue before you finish chatting, so I won't be anywhere near you. I talk to some people outside, acting like I don't notice you walking by us. I make up a stupid excuse to leave as you turn my way. You glance at me as if nothing has ever gone on between us and shrug your shoulders. I head to the bus, shoving my hands in my pocket and trying to keep it all together. Why was it so easy for you? We were both stubborn, major assholes and yet you can figure out all this better than me. How many times had you called me up crying trying to figure out things? How many times did you come to me for advice about Felissa whenever things were rough? I always had an answer for you, advice, something to help you get through these problems. Now I had nothing. No answer or advice to help myself out of this rut. I can't talk to you about it or this whole cycle will have to start over again. I can't talk to Jess or Matt because that just would be awkward. Telling them that I was in love with Deron Miller would break me even harder. We'd been behind doors for so long that I think it would kill me to admit that I loved you.

I sigh to myself and hop up into my bunk. Placing my hands behind my head I study the ceiling. You and the other guys probably won't be back in here for hours; so I have time alone. I let a tear escape my eye, then another one and another one. Finally my face, pillow and shirt are covered in teardrops. I cup my face in my hands and try to shake the pain off, but it just won't disappear. I hear a shuffling noise at the front of the bus and try to hide my sobs. I take one big sniff and wipe my eyes free.

“You okay Chad? Wanna talk?” It's you. Your pale face, beautiful blue eyes and messy blond hair is standing right before me.

“I-I-I--” I just lay there and stutter, trying to say something but not remembering what words sound like. The tears start to flow from my eyes once more and you reach out to hold me. I let you touch me and then the sobs start becoming heavier. I couldn't avoid the past because it was written all over my future. I tried to run from you every night because it was easier than trying to get over you. As you stroke my hair and hum me a song to put me to sleep, you kiss my forehead and say,

“It hurts me too.”