OK, it may be a little bit dramatic to be back here, but Shayne knows it's the last place any of them will look.
"Thanks, man, five stars and a big ol' tip are waiting for you in the app," he says to his Uber driver as he hops out of the car.
The driver, Frank, a larger hairy man with a long red beard, gives him a grunt and a thumbs up.
"Nice place kid," Frank says, some kind of accent in his voice.
"It's not-"
But Frank is gone before Shayne can finish his sentence, clearly not interested in very much conversation. The mansion is just as he remembers it when he first walked up, so many nights ago. The lawns are still manicured and every architectural detail looks like it's been kept up with a fine-toothed comb. All that's missing is the insane amount of crew members, now replaced by silence and something that would be very hard for Shayne to miss.
"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me," he says to himself as he makes his way into the yard.
There's an insane Sholiver shrine. Pictures of him and Oliver together have been printed out on big boards. Personalized signs with messages have been left behind. There are a lot of plushie kangaroos in the yard as well.
"I can't imagine the landscape folks are having much fun with this," he says.
Shayne takes a deep breath, trying to process the surreal sight before him. The Sholiver shrine is overwhelming, an unexpected reminder of the impact their story has had on fans. Each step through the yard feels heavier than the last.
As he examines the area more closely, Shayne's heart aches with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. The signs, the pictures, and the plushie kangaroos are just too much. He wonders how the internet will remember them now that this is out if anyone tabloids know that they're on the rocks; if he cares that people know.
Running his fingers through his hair, Shayne finds himself at a loss for words. He had never expected this to become a spectacle, he hadn't expected it to be anything at all really.
Taking one last look at the shrine, Shayne gathers his thoughts, before turning away and walking towards the mansion doors. He knows they're looked, but he tries the door anyway, his mind flashing back to the very rude man he told off there.
"I know you're just so busy waiting for us to tend to your every need," he says to himself, a reminder of what he said to the guy he risked everything for; and it still wasn't enough.
Was he unlovable?
Should he give him another chance?
Is he still going to leave for the movie regardless, and what does that mean exactly if he does?
They're all valid questions he supposes, as he sinks onto one of the mansion's steps, praying to God no one calls the police.
"Can I help you, young man?" A frail voice says from behind him, Shayne nearly shitting himself as he jumps up and takes a few steps back.
It's an older woman, she has to at least be in her 70's, but she looks well taken care of. She's standing on the side of the now half-open mansion door, wearing a robe, slippers, and red rimmed glasses.
"Sorry ma'am," Shayne says. "I worked on the show here. Didn't know if anyone lived here."
"Oh no," she says. "You're fine baby, I'm Jocelyn."
"Shayne."
"Nice to meet you, Shayne," Jocelyn says, her warm smile putting Shayne at ease. "You're welcome to come in. Make yourself at home. It's a pleasure to have someone from the show visiting."
Shayne steps inside the mansion, taking in the grandeur of the surroundings. It feels oddly comforting to be back, even with the weight of his own emotions pressing down on him. Jocelyn leads him to a cozy sitting area he's hung out in dozens of times, offering him a seat.
"You know, this show of yours has brought quite a bit of attention to the place," Jocelyn remarks, settling herself in a chair opposite Shayne. "But to be honest, at my age, I can't keep up with all the details. I'm more of a coffee and crossword puzzles kind of lady."
Shayne manages a small smile. "Sounds like my kind of woman. Sometimes it's hard to keep track of everything, especially with how fast things move these days."
Jocelyn nods knowingly. "Indeed, my dear. But I must say, it's lovely to have a young visitor like you here. It brings a bit of life back into these old walls. Can I offer you some coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot."
Shayne's heart warms at the offer. "That would be great, thank you."
As Jocelyn goes to fetch the coffee, Shayne takes a moment to soak in the atmosphere of the mansion. The memories of his time here with Oliver flood back, both the beautiful and the painful. He wonders if being in this familiar space will help him find the clarity he's seeking.
When Jocelyn returns with a steaming mug of coffee, she sets it down in front of Shayne. "There you go, dear. Take your time, and enjoy the coffee. And feel free to look around if you'd like. This place holds many stories. A lot of fresh ones for you I imagine."
She has no idea.
Shayne wraps his hands around the mug, savoring the warmth seeping into his palms. He takes a sip, relishing the familiar taste of the rich brew. It's a small comfort amidst the turmoil within him.
As he gazes into the depths of the coffee, Shayne wonders if he's being too hard on Oliver. Maybe there's more to their story, more to their connection than he's allowing himself to see. But he's also scared—scared of being hurt again, scared of losing himself.
With each sip, Shayne finds a bit more peace. The mansion, Jocelyn's hospitality, and the simple act of savoring coffee help ground him in the present. And in this moment of calm, he realizes that he doesn't have to have all the answers right now. He can take his time, reflect, and listen to his own heart.
As Jocelyn watches him, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes, she says, "It looks like you're carrying a heavy burden. Can I ask what's wrong?"
Shayne looks up from his coffee, meeting Jocelyn's tired but wise eyes.
"Jocelyn, it's about this show, the one that was filmed here," Shayne begins, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I never expected it, but I fell for the lead, his name is Oliver. We weren't supposed to, it was just supposed to be a job for me, something to help me eventually become a writer; and land him in the big leagues. But things changed, they got complicated."
Jocelyn listens attentively, her gentle eyes fixed on Shayne. She nods in understanding, silently encouraging him to continue.
"But it wasn't easy," Shayne continues, a hint of pain in his voice. "Oliver had to play the role of the heartbreaker, breaking the hearts of all the ladies on the show. It tore me apart, seeing him with them, pretending to be someone he's not. But we held onto something real, something special."
He takes another sip of coffee, gathering his thoughts. "I thought we were finally going to have a chance, that we could explore our connection beyond the show. But just when I thought we were about to start something real, Oliver got an incredible opportunity. It's a dream come true for him, but it feels like he's choosing his career over us, over me."
Shayne's voice cracks with a mixture of sadness and frustration.
Jocelyn reaches out and places a hand gently on Shayne's. "Oh, my dear boy, love can be both a beautiful and complicated journey. It's never easy, and it often requires sacrifices and tough decisions."
Shayne looks at Jocelyn, his eyes filled with longing for understanding. "But how do I know if I should give him another chance? Is it worth risking my heart again?"
Jocelyn's gaze turns distant for a moment, lost in her memories. "You know, my late husband, Frederick, and I built this house together," she says softly. "We were young and filled with dreams of forever. We poured our hearts into every brick, every detail. And for a while, it was everything we ever wanted."
Her voice trembles with the weight of her words. "But life has a way of changing, of throwing unexpected twists at you. Frederick died in a car crash, and suddenly, everything we had built shattered. My heart was broken, and I didn't know if I could go on."
Shayne listens intently, his heart aching for Jocelyn's loss. He senses that her story holds a profound lesson.
"But you see, Shayne, love is not just about the happy moments and easy choices. It's about navigating the storms, the uncertainties, the sacrifices," Jocelyn continues, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and wisdom. "Frederick and I had our fair share of struggles, but through it all, I knew that the love we shared was worth fighting for."
A tear glistens in the corner of her eye. "I can't tell you what's right for you, my dear. Only you can make that decision. But I do believe that if the love between you and Oliver is true, if it's something that sets your soul on fire, then it might be worth giving another chance. Love is a powerful force, and sometimes, it's worth the distance. I know this little old lady is still feeling it, and I hope my Frederick feels it too."
"Thank you, Jocelyn," Shayne says softly, gratitude lacing his voice. "I'm so sorry for your loss. You helped me a lot there."
Jocelyn smiles warmly, her eyes filled with empathy. "I do what I can my dear."
As Shayne finishes up his coffee, he can't help but feel guilty. Here he is wrapped up in his head when a woman has had to go on without the love of her life. What would she give to be sitting in his chair, to even have someone to be mad at?
"Jocelyn, I do have one more place to check out if you don't mind."
"Of course," she says. "You listened to me ramble on about my glory days, the least I could do is be hospitable."
Shayne smiles. "It actually shouldn't require too much assistance on your end, but I might be there awhile, wanted to get your OK."
"Help yourself," she says.
Shayne nods, gets up, takes his coffee cup to the kitchen sink; and makes his way to where this all started: the garden.
***
Shayne walks through the mansion, his footsteps echoing in the grand hallways. Memories flood his mind, every corner holding a piece of his journey with Oliver. But it's the garden that calls to him, the place where their connection felt the most real, the most raw.
As he steps outside, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass fills his senses. The garden is a vibrant oasis, meticulously maintained with bursts of color and life, just like he remembers it. Shayne takes a moment to appreciate the beauty around him, the delicate petals of the roses, and the dance of butterflies in the air.
His thoughts drift back to that night so long ago now, the night when Oliver had genuinely apologized to him, pulling him away from the prying eyes of cameras. It was a moment of vulnerability, a glimpse into a different side of him. Shayne had felt the sincerity, the desire, the spark; that goddamned spark.
"I wish things could have been different," Shayne whispers to himself, his voice carried away by the gentle breeze.
Suddenly, a new voice interrupts his thoughts, a voice he knows all too well. "You're pretty damn hard to find, you know?"
Shayne turns around to see Oliver standing there, an unexpected sight that sends a jolt of emotions through him. Oliver's eyes meet his, his brain short-circuiting like it always does when he sees the hunk of man.
"You don't understand, do you?" Shayne says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I said to stay away."
Oliver takes a step closer, the tension between them palpable. "I'm in love with you Goddamnit. You nerdy, funny, smart guy. I've been in love with you. It scares the hell out of me to say it, but I'm saying it. "
Shayne's eyes widen, his heart thudding in his chest. The air crackles with unresolved emotions, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging in the balance.
"You can't just show up here and expect everything to be OK," Shayne says.
Oliver takes another step closer, his voice filled with a desperate plea. "Did you hear what I just said?"
Shayne's resolve wavers, his heart torn between the pain of the past and the flicker of hope before him.
"I heard it, but it doesn't matter how you feel, or how I feel. I need to not love you right now, and I need that to be OK."
A moment of silence hangs between them, the weight of their emotions palpable. And then, in a rush of emotions, Oliver closes the distance between them, crashing his lips against Shayne in a passionate and fiery kiss.
Their lips are far from strangers, so many words unsaid in their battle of tongues. At that moment, doubts and uncertainties fade into the background, replaced by a powerful surge of love and desire. They cling to each other, their bodies pressed together as if trying to erase all the pain and distance that has separated them. The world around them blurs into insignificance. Nothing matters but this, nothing else can matter but this.
Each kiss is a memory: a stolen glance at an elimination, a confessional that led to so much more, a spark of jealousy, text messages exchanged like secret letters and a night in a hotel room Shayne can never forget (in fact, it's all he's been thinking about).
Shayne's hands find their way to Oliver's face, and then his hair, his fingers tangled in it like usual, brown locks he's gripping so tight he's almost concerned he's going to rip some out until Oliver does the same with his hair.
The garden becomes a witness to their reunion, it can't help it, the blooming flowers and gentle breeze embracing them. It feels like a perfect harmony, a homecoming of sorts.
When they finally break the kiss, their eyes meet, and a mixture of relief, vulnerability, and unspoken promises passes between them. Shayne's voice trembles as he speaks, his words filled with the weight of his emotions.
"Um, hi there," he says.
"Hello love," Oliver replies.
Oliver's eyes glisten with unshed tears, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you."
"I love you too," Shayne says.
Shayne's heart softens, a flicker of hope lighting up within him. Perhaps they can find a way to navigate the challenges ahead, to mend what had been broken, and build something stronger. Love has a way of healing wounds, of rewriting the story, if they are willing to take the leap of faith; but then he remembers his ending.
"But," he says, pulling back from Oliver, a comfortable distance away that he hopes will make what he has to say easier. "You need to go to Australia, you need to take the job."
"Absolutely not," Oliver says, bridging the distance with a pained expression on his face, scooping Shayne into his arms. "I already told Pen to tell them I'm not interested anymore. I'm not leaving you, I learned that lesson."
"You're going," Shayne says, pushing him away. "You're going, and you're going to know that I love you when you get there, and that'll just have to be enough for now."
Oliver's eyes widen in disbelief, his grip on Shayne tightening, not letting him go without a fight. "No, Shayne, you don't understand. I can't just leave you behind. We've fought so hard to be together, and now you want me to go?"
Shayne takes a step back, his gaze steady but filled with determination. "I know it's hard, but sometimes love requires sacrifices. This opportunity means everything to you, and I won't be the one to hold you back. We've already been through so much, and I believe in us. Our love doesn't just disappear because we're not physically together."
Oliver's voice cracks. "But what if I regret it? What if I go and realize that I made the wrong choice?"
Shayne's heart aches at Oliver's plea, but he stands his ground. "Regret is a part of life, Oliver. We've both grown so much since we first met since we stood in this garden, and we have to trust that our love is strong enough to withstand the distance. I won't hold you back from pursuing your dreams."
Oliver's eyes glisten with unshed tears, his voice filled with anguish. "I love you, Shayne. I don't want to lose you. I don't want us to become another casualty of the entertainment industry."
Shayne takes a deep breath, his voice filled with conviction. "I love you too, Oliver. And I won't lie, it's going to suck. It's going to suck balls, but I believe in us. We've already defied the odds, and fought against the pressures and expectations. Our love is stronger than anything they can throw at us. And when the time is right, we'll find our way back to each other."
Oliver's shoulders slump. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'll try."
Shayne steps forward, his hand reaching out to cup Oliver's cheek. "That's all I can ask for, Oliver. And it's not like we don't have phones or planes."
Tears stream down Oliver's face, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't deserve you."
Shayne's thumb brushes away a tear from Oliver's cheek. "Don't say that. We deserve each other, and we deserve a chance at happiness. This is our story, Oliver, and we get to write the ending."
They stand there in the garden, the weight of their decision heavy in the air. The love that binds them, that has carried them through countless challenges, feels more real than ever.
"I promise you," Oliver says, "I'm not giving up on us until you tell me to."
Shayne's voice trembles, tears shimmering in his eyes. "Then you'll be waiting awhile."
They hold each other tightly then. As they stand in the garden, a gentle breeze rustles through the leaves, carrying their whispered promises into the world. They have chosen love, chosen each other, and what a choice that is.
***
TWO WEEKS LATER.
Max is buzzing with excitement, his energy contagious as he bounces on his toes. "Oh my god, you guys! This is so surreal! Oliver's going to be actually big time after this! We can say we knew Oliver fucking Henderson."
They're all making their way down a flight of stairs in LAX, heading to the terminal to see Oliver off on his international flight to Australia, filming starts in a few days.
Oliver smiles. "I still can't believe it myself. But none of this would have been possible without all of you. Thank you for your support and for being here today."
Lily crosses her arms, trying to hide the emotional tug at her heartstrings. "We still expect you to send us autographed headshots from the set."
Oliver chuckles. "Of course, Lil. I'll make sure you get a special one with a personalized message."
"Make sure it says, I'll never break your brother's heart again," she says.
Shayne stands a little apart from the group as they walk on, his gaze fixed on Oliver. A mixture of pride and sadness swirls within him, but he puts on a brave face. "You're going to do amazing. Just remember that you have a whole team of people back here cheering you on."
Oliver reaches out and takes Shayne's hand. "I couldn't have come this far without you. You've been my rock. I love you."
"I love you too," Shayne says, his voice soft but filled with conviction, surprised by how easy it's gotten, and how much more true it is.
As the boarding call echoes through the terminal, a wave of reality washes over them. The moment they've been preparing for has arrived. Shayne reluctantly releases Oliver's hand, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest.
Lily wraps her arms around Oliver, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "Good luck. You're going to shine like a star out there. And don't worry, we'll take care of Shayne while you're gone."
Max steps forward, pulling Oliver into a bear hug. "Make us proud, Oli. Remember, you're an honorary American now. Don't be a stranger."
Oliver nods. "I won't let any of you down. I'll give it everything I've got."
As Oliver steps forward to join the line for boarding, Shayne watches him go, his heart filled with a complex blend of emotions. He knows this is the right decision, that they need this time apart to grow and chase their dreams. But that doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye.
Oliver turns back one last time, a longing gaze fixed on Shayne. "I'll be back before you know it. And we'll write our own happily ever after, together."
Shayne musters a smile, his voice filled with unwavering hope. "I'll be waiting."
And with that, Oliver disappears into the crowd, leaving Shayne standing there, empty.
As they make their way towards the escalator that'll lead them back to the Arrivals entrance, Lily wraps her arm around Shayne's shoulders, offering him support. "It's going to be tough, but you guys can do this. Love can conquer anything, even distance."
Shayne leans into her, finding solace in her words. "Thanks."
Max smirks, his playful tone laced with a hint of mischief. "Or maybe absence will make Shayne realize just how much he misses Oliver's dicking down and send him begging for a flight to Australia."
Shayne rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "I hate you."
As they walk away from the airport, the trio shares laughter and banter.
As they reach the exit of the airport, Shayne suddenly feels a strange sense of emptiness. A part of him yearns for one last glimpse of Oliver, one final goodbye. But he pushes the thought aside, reminding himself that they said their goodbyes already.
Just as they're about to step outside, a familiar figure catches Shayne's eye. It's Oliver, standing a few feet away, his eyes fixed on Shayne.
Without a word, Oliver closes the distance between them. The world around them is gone. They share a slow, passionate kiss, a bittersweet farewell that speaks volumes. Shayne's heart swells with love and sorrow, tears pooling in his eyes. The taste of Oliver's lips lingers, a memory he knows he'll have to hold onto. They taste like spearmint and a hint of lemon, from a tea Lily made him.
Spearmint and lemon.
Spearmint and lemon.
The kiss is over far too soon. "You're not Rachel," Shayne says. "Go get your ass back on that plan before I change my mind.
Oliver's voice trembles, his fingers tracing Shayne's cheek. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
"Yes, your dreams await," Shayne says.
Oliver gives Shayne one last lingering look, "You are my dream."
Then he's turning away, disappearing into the crowd once again, a ghost.
As Lily and Max approach him, their expressions filled with empathy, Shayne wipes away his tears. "I'll be OK," he says, his voice steadier than he expected.
"We'll be OK," Lily and Max say in unison, each of them placing a hand on his shoulder before pulling him in for a hug.
It's not easy giving up what you know you could easily have in the end, if you just said the words. This isn't how these kinds of things usually end in any of the movies he's seen.
But this isn't a movie, and life has a funny way of making you realize that sometimes the best dreams are worth a little part of you dying for.
A single text follows his thoughts, he doesn't even have to guess who it's from.
BUTTHEAD KANGAROO
I love you. No takesies backsies. Goodbye. 🦘