The Pain

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[A/N - Hey everyone! So this is my first upload, and I'm so excited to get it out there and share it with the world. Everything in this story is influenced by my own feelings and insecurities, so what you are reading here is all of me. I hope that you enjoy it, and please comment and become a fan if you connect with the story. Chapter 2 will follow soon... ;) x]

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"What...the HELL was that?"

Zak sprung from the straddled position he always adopted during our play-fights and was now standing almost motionless at the end of the bed, the only movement coming from those rich hazel eyes that scanned my face hurriedly for an explanation.

I hitched myself up on my elbows but never averted my eyes from his confused gaze, despite the burning ache spreading through my torso that threatened to consume the butterflies that only moments ago had been whizzing around my stomach, excited by the new surge of adrenaline that had coursed through my entire body.

"Did you seriously just..." His voice trailed off, as his gaze darted from me to the floor, and then back to me. His brow was creasing. Did he really not know? Hadn't I made it obvious enough?

His mouth gaped slightly as the realisation hardened his normally soft features, and almost instantaneously he snapped out of the rigid stance that he'd adopted for those past fifteen seconds or so as he grabbed for his Converse Hi-Tops and navy hoodie lying at the side of the bed. I can't really say for sure how much time had ticked past if I'm honest - for all I knew, it could have been hours.

"Zak, wait!" I managed to croak - when had my throat become so parched? "Please... let me explain. Zak!"

He had swivelled towards the door and taken a couple of tentative strides before turning now to face me once again. His mouth remained motionless, his lips refusing to let anything escape that might provide me with any sort of relief from the panic that was starting to devour me. I bit my bottom lip and could almost taste his breath lingering there. He blinked hard, then re-focused his eyes on my features. Those eyes - they hold so much power and yet seem so fragile. I thought I had learned how to read them, how to interpret each glint and movement as a visual representation of his innermost thoughts. But now, they displayed nothing but confusion... or perhaps anger... or maybe a little bit of both.

He glanced down at his wristwatch, and then stroked the brown wisps of hair away from his temples. His mouth opened slowly, but I could hear his breath catching any words before they were able to fully form in his throat.

"What? Please, talk to me", I pleaded, now sitting upright on the bed with my hands instinctively hovering over my lower chest. This fire was threatening to burst out of my skin at any moment.

But the response I needed never came. Zak let out a deep sigh and I'm sure I caught an almost imperceptible shake of his head, before he turned on his heels and headed to the door.

I tried to propel my body forward to run and block his path, tried to tell him that it was all just a joke, that we were just mates having a laugh. But I was paralysed and weak from the inferno raging through my insides and destroying my sense of reality.

As the door closed, I kept my eyes fixated on the silver handle expecting it to move any second and for Zak to be back beside me, making me laugh, tickling my sides, messing up my hair - just anything to fill this vast emptiness that was now all around me. My left eye twitched as it always does when I'm worried or stressed, and I felt the metallic taste of my own blood as it seeped from my lip on to the tip of my tongue.

But he never returned. The door remained firmly closed, much like the door to my heart that had taken so long to unlock and pull free and had now been slammed shut again with the force of Zak's departure.

My strength failed me, and my head hit the soft down pillow with a thud. I brought my hands to my head, to try and squeeze some sense of normality back in to my brain, to try and erase the past few minutes from my memory, but it was no use. The whole episode was already replaying before my stinging eyes as I lay staring at the ornate floral design around the modest chandelier that hung above the hotel bed. I would have to live with this anguish for eternity now; that memory of the anger, confusion and... something more that I still couldn't bring myself to admit - all forever etched on the face of the boy I loved.

I turned my head to the bed-side table to find my wallet lying open, and that passport photo of Zak & I from a few weeks ago in Australia was staring back at me. He was pulling his goofy "Miss Piggy" face while I did my trademark "hippo yawn". We looked silly and childish, but now crucially, this photo was a vivid reminder of happier times. More carefree times. Well, carefree for him perhaps, but what I wouldn't give to go back there now.

As the tears started to roll down my face, I was conscious of a low moaning sound coming from somewhere close by. It was a sound unlike anything I'd ever encountered before, but something inside me could sense that it represented a deep ache and carnal pain that was too great to subdue. As I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, the moans only got louder and deeper. My pillow grew more damp from my tears and I slowly came to the realisation that I was a broken man. For the first time since I had started my journey of discovery, I had no idea where I was or how I could ever escape from this painful nightmare that was occupying every part of my being.

And that's when the flashbacks began...

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