Page 15 of Surviving the Merge
“So, when a nameless guy approached me and asked if I wanted to take the party upstairs, I downed the last of my drink and told him to lead the way.” It was late, and the music blasted at an uncomfortable level throughout the house. People were either intoxicated and passed out on any available surface or fucking without a care in various stages of undress.
“We found an empty room, and while he did a few lines of coke, I went into the bathroom to get my nerves under control.” I remembered leaning over the sink and staring at the stranger looking back at me through the mirror. I’d lost some weight; my collar and cheekbones were prominent. My eyes were red from the alcohol and lack of sleep. I’d recalled what put me in that situation to begin with, and it reignited my anger.
“I went back into the bedroom, and he strode toward me with a lecherous stare. While kissing him, I began to have second thoughts.” I grunted. “He didn’t like that so much.”
I realized that I couldn't go into the blow-by-blow. The more I talked about it, the closer I felt to that night. As if no time had passed. Deciding to wrap things up, I said, “I was drunk, something I’d never been before. And he was high off narcotics. My choice of recreation left me weak, easy prey. He gained the strength of ten gods. The room resembled a battlefield from our struggle, and his sweat and blood rained down on me from the wounds I’d inflicted. In the end, I lay there mangled and violated in a pool of my own tears and vomit.”
I didn’t pray to God as I writhed on that bleak, black bedroom floor. I begged for Damon. Always Damon.
I used to ask myself if what happened was somehow my fault. Karma. My getting-what-I-asked-for. For all the times that Damon and I toed the line of consent. But Damon and I loved each other. A level of trust and understanding flowed fluidly and unsaid between us. The bottomless pit of my need filled the gaping hole of his. We were some sort of yin and yang. It was different with us. It just was.
I faced Julie. “To answer your question, I went back to Elite because after five years, I finally felt strong enough to reclaim the essential part of me that died in that room.”
Blake approached, enfolding me within his arms. I inhaled him, returning the embrace. Julie remained seated, giving us some time. “I’m... sorry.” His voice shook.
I leaned away and had to guard myself against the anguish and guilt displayed on his face. My own feelings were more than enough for me to bear; I couldn’t take on his too. I didn’t need him to be sorry. “I need to see Damon.”And Lord help him when I do.
* * *
We returned home,and I aggressively paced our living room. I didn’t know what to do with my upset. I’d never wanted to think about that night again, so I hadn’t. I’d been so consumed with Damon's return and what it meant to our lives that I hadn’t giventhatpart of my past any thought.
It all came back to me in a rush of debilitating anger and pain. Damon's role in what happened to me was all I could think about. If it wasn’t for him…
“I’m going down to the club?weare going down to the club.” I walked past Blake, and he gently grabbed my arm, pulling me up short.
“Not tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. I have to confront him. I can’tbelieveI allowed him to waltz back in?”
“Not. Tonight,” he said. The finality that tinged his words caused me to stand straighter.
Blake dropped my arm and shook his head. “I’m tired, Justin. Not tonight.”
My ire subsided. How unfair and selfish of me to demand a switch like that. I tended to forget that in reality they were one body. “You’re right.” I stepped into him and admitted, “I don’t know how to make him hurt without hurting you, but I can’t let this go.”
“He didn’t mean for that to happen to you, Justin. He couldn’t have known.”
“Are you defending him now?” I took a step back, waiting for him to tell me that wasn’t what he meant.
“I’m saying that in the hospital when you asked me to stay, he let me. Your suffering was his.”
I wanted to argue but suddenly depleted of all energy, I let it go. “I’m sure Julie will think this is progress,” I said wryly. Lining up our bodies, I ran my nose up the side of his neck and then bit down. He grunted and tilted his head, exposing more skin. Kissing away the sting, I rested my head on his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.”
That night, folded around one another in the dark, I thought back on my life since meeting Damon and, subsequently, Blake. Outside of them, I’d had no meaningful relationships. Ashton was great, but he was Damon’s friend at the core. I didn’t think I even possessed the skills to make friends. I had my students that I interacted with almost daily, but we didn’t socialize outside of rehearsals—not for a lack of trying on their part. Did I even know who I was? I didn’t think so. What did I stand for? Did I have hopes and dreams outside of dance?
Dance and these two men who were at war with each other. That’s all I had. It became clear that I needed more. This couldn’t be all there was for me. Not anymore. I needed answers to my questions, but how did I go about obtaining them?
“I’m going to put in for a leave of absence,” I said spontaneously.
Blake shifted to face me, the sheet drifting below his waist to expose one firm globe. “Why on earth would you do that? You love your job. You lovedancing.”
“I can still dance for personal enjoyment, but I’ve never done anything else. How do I know there aren’t other passions buried deep inside me waiting to be discovered? I’m twenty-seven. I have no family or friends?outside of you.”
Dance had been my only hobby. All I’d ever done professionally. It became urgently imperative that I experiencedmore. If not, then no amount of therapy would mean anything.
“What will you do?”
“I don’t know. Start a garden at the Chadwick house, maybe?” I offered a smirk that saideven I’m not convinced it’s a bright idea.Just the first thing that popped into my head. Showed my inexperience at dreaming up things outside of what I already knew.
