The careful sneak back home from Graham's house was harrowing. It was dangerous, nerve wracking, riskier and riskier with each fragile step.
Which is strange, because it was quiet the entire way and he didn't see or hear anyone else the whole time.
It was his mind making all the noise.
It felt like a century, the process of getting to sleep, once he had gotten himself home in one piece. But when sleep finally came, Damon found refuge in his bed, in his house, his room, the seemingly only place where the outside world couldn't get to him.
It was nice while it lasted.
Of course it didn't last.
A swift shake from an outside source crouching down next to him awoke him, his eyes fluttering open as a voice spoke in a language he couldn't well comprehend while tired.
"Damon?"
Oh, it was just him.
A yawn escaped from Damon, who brought a hand up to cover his mouth. "What time is it, Jamie?"
"Not that late," he replied. "Not that early either, though. I've got something you may need to see." Jamie held out what looked to be a thick stack of papers with several inscriptions and photographs on the front.
Damon set his eyes on the object, his vision still blurry and his mind clouded from being woken up. "That's a newspaper, Hewlett."
"Sure is." He agreed. "But look at the front."
Damon sat up straighter, his back resting against the wall, squinting his eyes to try and interpret the paper. His mind cleared somewhat to where he could begin to understand what exactly he was being shown.
Sitting plain as day in the center of the front page was a single photograph depicting two boys sitting behind a window. One boy had his hand on the other's cheek and looked as if he were leaning in to kiss him.
Then it hit him.
Praying he was wrong, hoping with all his might he was mistaken, he looked over to the article of text next to the image.
"Up and coming star Damon Albarn was finally spotted in our city after being seen at a bar getting into a quarrel with musician Noel Gallagher, member of local band Oasis. After leaving the scene he was then found at the home of another musician, later identified as Graham Coxon. The status of their relationship is unknown but the photo captured raises speculation over the subject."
Every bit of air he had to get a word out had been sucked away immediately. Suddenly, the room was cold. Freezing. And suddenly he wasn't tired anymore. The shock moved aside to make room for panic as Damon's heart began to race. "Th-...That's...How the fuck did they get that?!"
Jamie shook his head, concern in his eyes. "Damon, what happened last night?"
He couldn't answer. His mind was thinking a million things a minute, going faster than the speed of light. "No, no, no, no, this is bad, this is very bad."
"Damon, just calm down a second."
Not only did they now know he was here, his face was plastered on the front page about to kiss someone. A male someone. A thing that was widely frowned upon. He could already hear the questions arising. Questions about him. As if it's any of their business anyway.
He looked over to see Jamie now sitting next to him. "Listen, Damon-"
"Everything's ruined, Jamie!" He snapped in a voice louder than he'd originally intended. "I should've known this would never work. God, I'm so stupid! And Graham..."
Oh God.
Graham.
He had to have seen it too by now.
"...Graham's going to fucking hate my guts!" His hands were over his eyes as his head moved back down.
"I didn't know you two were..." Jamie tried to look for the words. "...that serious." His tone sounded as if he were trying to be careful with what he said.
Damon groaned. "We're not. Or...Maybe...No, we're not." His hands stayed over his eyes. "If we had anything it's probably fucked now."
The other boy didn't say anything for a moment. Damon was beginning to get paranoid that this would change things between them, too. Jamie was his best friend. They'd been best friends since before he'd even gone into show business. When Damon wanted to move to get away from it, the first thing Jamie had said is that he wanted to come too. "It'll be like extended vacation," he'd reasoned. "Mum won't mind. She likes you well enough anyways. Mostly because I do."
What did he think of him now?
Did he even think anything?
He heard him sigh. "What's done is done. Not like you can do anything about it now. But...You like Graham, don't you?"
"Too much, I think." Isn't that why we're in this mess? He thought.
"Then I think you should go to him."
Damon raised his head to turn and look at him, his hands resting at his sides. "I can't do that, he won't want to even look at me, I know it."
"If you really care about him, you'll at least try to explain." He elaborated. "And if he really cares about you, he'll listen."
That was all the explanation he needed.
Quickly, Damon got to his feet and put on his shoes and jacket, ready to head out. As he stood at the door, he turned back to his friend. "Oh, um...Does mum know about this yet?"
"That's who you should explain things to next."
"Got it."
He turned back to the door, but then remembered another thing he had to say. "Oh, Jamie?"
"Yeah?"
Damon smiled. "Thank you."
Jamie met his smile with one of his own. "It's what I'm here for."
And with that, Damon was off into the gray and cloudy afternoon, now left with only his thoughts and the trip ahead.
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Instead of knocking on the door, he figured it would be wisest, ironically enough, to knock on the window. "Graham? You in there?"
The curtains were pulled over the glass, but he saw a hand on the corner of them move them aside a bit, only to immediately move them completely to one side, revealing Graham's figure on the window seat. Slowly, the window opened, allowing him to speak. "Oh. It's you."
Damon was a little disappointed by Graham's flat tone of voice, but he ignored the feeling. "Yeah. It's me." He cleared his throat, nervous butterflies roaming in his stomach as he searched for what to say. "Listen, Graham, I-"
"You don't have to say anything." He interrupted. "I saw the paper."
"Graham-"
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice sounded genuinely heartbroken. "I might've been a little starstruck at first, but...It would've been better than finding out this way!"
"I didn't want you to know, okay?! I didn't want anyone to know! The reason I left London was to get away from all of it!"
"Well, it looks like it caught up to you, doesn't it?" Graham's voice was cold, which only made Damon feel all the more guilty.
"Graham..." Damon stepped closer to the window. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? That's all you have?" Graham was clearly very upset. "Do you have any fucking idea what all this has caused?! My parents saw the paper before I could even get to it! Th-they won't even look at me the same way!" His voice was breaking, the pain beginning to show more with each word that fell out. "A-And now everyone knows! The band, the whole fucking city, everyone! Everyone knows I'm..."
Damon could see small tears forming in the boy's sad, brown eyes. It was tearing him apart. "Please, Graham, I didn't know they were going to see us! I didn't want any of this to happen!" Even he was starting to get choked up now, his voice a plea, filled with all the sincerity he could muster. He didn't care about how loud he was being. "I care about you, Graham! I...I love you!"
No one said anything for a moment. Graham's eyes, shining with tears, were locked onto Damon's. He looked like at any moment he would break down, but his face looked vulnerable. He looked as though maybe his words may have gotten through to him. Damon was hoping that he felt the same, but he knew he had very slim chances after what all had happened. Or did he?
Suddenly, Graham blinked, the tears streaming down his face, and straightened his posture. "I-If you really love me," he placed emphasis on the word love. "You should go."
Damon could practically feel his heart shatter. "What? Graham, please."
He just shook his head, then looked away. "You've done enough. Just go."
Damon blinked, trying to hold back his own tears. He could only just stand trying to catch his breath. He felt completely hopeless. Everything hurt. Especially this. Suddenly, he clenched his fist. "W-Well, yknow what? Fine!" He snapped. "I will go! I-I'll go back to London, and we can pretend none of this happened!"
Graham didn't say or do anything except just shut the window, moving the curtains back to their previous position. This only hurt Damon more.
"Alright, be that way!" He shouted, though it immediately felt wrong to say. "I give you my heart and you fucking stomp on it! Bastard!"
He regretted everything he said the moment he said it.
Maybe Graham was right. Maybe he should just go.
With a heavy heart, he turned away and began to walk back home, and just as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone.