After the spotlight (for bigkitty75)

[head_psychic]

Shawn sneaks inside, alone, careful not to be seen. His lower lip is caught between his teeth and he bites down the frustration from time to time to stay focused on not making a sound. He's breathing hard, he's close to panting, his emotions running high. The place is empty but it doesn't stop him from walking up the stairs as silently as possible until he's once more in the sofreakinavantgarde room of the loft. Now with the case closed they have to get their things and move out.

He's not sad about leaving this place. He feels bitter about it, he feels bitter about a lot of things right now. His head throbs with an aching pain that could also be a lump in his throat for all he cares. Which he does not, he doesn't care. At all. About anything. His dad with a hickey, I'm going on a second date with Susan, Susan, what kind of name is Susan anyway?

No, he can't, he can't deal with this, he can't, there's just no way in hell. Shawn accidentally knocks his bag over, his hands are shaking, he wiggles them a little to relax his tense muscles. He grabs the bag and puts it back on the bed, throwing his stuff inside, determined to pack and leave as soon as possible.

He really wants to get out of this place before any of those air-headed models drops by for further commentary.

Comments

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus isn't really mad anymore, he was. Oh, how he was.

He spent some time walking, alone, after that completely unnecessary wrap up that ended his chances... well, basically ended his little fantasy of being one of the 'in crowd'. Gus hurries back to the loft, needed to get his things and get out before he runs into any of the models. He's pretty sure they guys don't actually know what happened, their blank stares weren't really tracking the comotion of Shawn's speech, they'd been too busy texting each other. But all the girls knew he wasn't really one of them. And if Gus knows one thing, and only one thing about girls, it's that they spare no mercy when they think they've been made a fool of.

He takes the stairs two at a time, not paying attention to anything until he gets to his and Shawn's room. It's weird, to think he shared a room with Shawn this whole time, and probably seen less of him than any other time execpt when one of them was on a trip or something.

Gus walks into their room and stops, Shawn's already here. Packing. Gus opens his mouth to greet him, but... can't. He shuts it, and slowly goes over to start removing his own things from the closet.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn pauses only for the split of a second when he's aware of his friend's presence, then he continues stuffing his things in his bag. They haven't talked since Gus walked out on him after solving the case. And since his dad decided it was time for 'the big news'.

Shawn bites back a groan. God, he has to stop thinking about this, no matter how. He waits for Gus to say something, anything but Gus doesn't. His friend just walks over to get his stuff, ignoring Shawn. Again.

It annoys Shawn. It's over, they're not welcome here anymore, they're not part of Fashion Central. Not that Shawn ever really was but that's not the point here. The point is, things can go back to normal now, there's no need to still treat him like air. Or rather, there is even less than no need to still keep this going.

"Do you think we should keep the soap?" he just randomly starts because he can't take the silence, because in silence his own thoughts are too loud and he has to shush them with talking as much as possible. "Seriously, they're worth a fortune. Dude, they don't even sell those in regular drugstores, you have to order them online. Give you hands like silk, I tell you."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus falters a little as he folds one of his shirts. He make a non-commital noise.

"It's good soap, but, do you really want to go around smelling like..." Not lavender. Gus picks up his bottle of lavender oil and looks at it for a long minute. The smell was overpowering, to tell you the truth. The supersmeller had pretty much had it's fill of all the sents that came with part of being with the beautiful people. Hairspray, perfume, everything that could hold a smell was used and abused. Gus's nose had practially decared mutiny and shut down out of self defense. Because it was either that, or extreme headaches.

Gus squeezes the bottle in his fist. A flash of anger rising up suddenly, and just as suddenly vanishing again. He drops it into the trash can and resists the impuse to give the can a good, solid, kick.

"Bring some if you want to." Gus shrugs. "I'd just as soon forget it."

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn snorts. "Really."

And that's pretty much all he can think of right now because it's too much, all the events of the last days are just too freaking much and he's here to calm down, not the opposite.

He just finishes packing, the inane smile fixed on his face.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus returns to packing. He's nearly done now, there was only so much room for personal attire in this place. Most of the clothing was provided for.

In a weird way, Gus is going to miss that the most.

But now it's back to his own life, and work, and being the adult again. Not the pampered model who's whims are always seen to, treated like a child, but not really, because the parties are always fast and dizy, and when you're over a certain age, fun comes in all kinds of not-so-child like ways.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

That's it, he's done packing and can finally leave this place he has spent far more time in than he's comfortable with. And since this isn't going too well, since there is still this weird, cold atmosphere between them Shawn will just grab his bag now, silently, head out of the door. Maybe get smashed somewhere no person, not even Gus, can find him. Just leave things like this for now and cool down somewhere. That sounds like a plan.

"You said goodbye to all of your little ruching pals already?"

... Well. So much for that.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus zips his bag closed and looks up at Shawn. "No. In fact. Maybe I should leave them a note."

Not that Gus is so sure they can read. But he did make a promise to tell the boys a bedtime story, and if they remember, they might be dissapointed.

They'll get over it, probably already have, Gus doesn't expect anyone of them to want to speak to him ever again. He's not stupid, he knows better than that, doesn't mean it doesn't sting, just a little.

So the coment hits hard and anyway, Gus isn't so sure he likes Shawn's tone with that.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. Maybe you should." Shawn takes the bag and throws it over his shoulder. Hard.

In fact so hard it hits him in the back and winds him for a moment so he stumbles forward and needs to steady himself again. He straightens up immediately and puts on a face of dignity - at least as dignified as you can look when you just knocked yourself over. "Maybe you can print it on their little lo-to-no-fat energy drinks. With a picture. So everytime they down one of their disgusting little slim fast drinks at least your face beams encouragement. Maybe you can also leave them a little statue of yourself, for the lobby."

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Why are you being a bastard about this? Didn't you get what you wanted?" Gus picks up his own bag and eyes Shawn. "You got to make the big speech, everybody knows now, I'm never going to be welcome here. Isn't that what you wanted?"

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

Shawn freezes, the grip on his bag hardening momentarily.

He stares at Gus, all the anger and rejection, the night alone in this freaky place, all the loneliness returning like a slap in the face. He's almost convinced he can hear the echo. "Seriously?"

He takes a step forward. "You're calling me the bastard here?"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"I believe that's what I said." Gus's chin juts out defiantly. He's not exactly sure why he's been mad at Shawn. Oh, the wrap-up had something to do with it. But he's not so sure that's as far as it goes.

Gus matches Shawn's step forward. They need to settle this tonight. Cause in the morning life returns to normal.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah, right." Shawn laughs, he can't help it, it feels unnatural but doesn't stop. "What were you supposed to do anyway, keep pretending that you're a model when you're not? Until when? A few hours after the incident? Until she ran her finely manicured finger a little more over your probably also oiled chest? Which is disgusting, by the way so forget I just said that?"

The bag drops to the floor because Shawn's too agitated to hold it now, his arms flying around in wild gestures. "In case you have forgotten, Gus, I brought you in there! I set up our model cover, I let you have your shiny time, I didn't interefere as long as we were on the case! I let you have your creepy, shallow model way with the creepy, shallow models, I did nothing more than complain when all it would have taken me was one word, one. Single. Word to end your I'm-a-good-looking-bastard cloud nine!"

He should really stop talking. Every word is making him angrier, with everything he says it seems like he's being shoved even further into some weird isolation pod he can't get out. He can't start rambling about what all of that did to him, he can't, he will just cut the conversation, right here. Period.

"You know what? Forget it. I don't care, Gus!" Shawn spreads his arms, desperate almost, his face a mask of irritation and hurt and anger and weird cramps while searching for words that usually paint ridiculous pictures he can hide behind. "I, I mean, do you see this? Do you see this?" He pats his chest, agitated, pacing before spreading his arms again and spinning on the spot. "This is me, me not caring! I just don't care!"

And with that he grabs his bag again, determined to leave, the way he left his dad, because running away to someplace safe seems to be the only way to stay sane right now.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"Fine! The very last thing I need is your care!" Gus holds his bag in a death fist, body so tightly strung with tension, it would only take one little, push. And he'd fly out of control. He sneers at Shawn's back.

"Go ahead, run away, hate to think you'd maybe try something different." But that doesn't mean Gus is going to stand in the background and watch him walk away, again. He's done that far too many times to count. Gus steps forward, equally as determined to leave.

"Yeah, one word from you and this whole thing came crashing down. You already proved that part. Shawn givith and Shawn takith away." Gus grimpses. "You seem to do an aweful lot of controlling for someone who fights their whole life against it. Did you ever think of that? You're the one who set this up, Shawn. You practically handed me these people! And then when I think, maybe, just maybe I can have friendships... you rip it out from under me."

Gus doesn't want to face Shawn. He hates the rawness of his own voice right now. "I knew it wasn't going to last. Not because I'm not one of them. I know I'm not! It's just...you have everybody wherever you go. For a while, I thought I had something like that too." He ends it stiffly. More of an explantion than he wanted to give Shawn. Terrified of what it may or may not mean.

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Those weren't your friends!"

Shawn practically yells, turning on the spot to face Gus again, face tight with anger. "How can you even think of them as something close to friends! Is that what you're telling me, Gus, that you prefer a bunch of stupid high-society model superstars over me? People who can't write their own name, who only want you as long as they think you're someone you're not, as long as you play their little clique game? Is that it?"

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

"No! Damn it!" Gus throws right back. "I didn't want them as friends! But it was pretty damn nice to be a part of a group, alright! You can't tell me that attention doesn't turn your head at all!"

Gus grits his teeth. Lots of things flashing across his face, anger, exasperation, but most of all confusion. So he spent some time with other people, Shawn does that all the time. What's the difference?

[head-psychic.livejournal.com]

"Not at your expense, it doesn't!" Shawn snaps, stepping closer and invading Gus' personal space. "You excluded me. You refused to talk to me just because you knew your little shiny group didn't and wouldn't accept me. When I tried to talk to you in front of them you would put up that disgusted face as if something contagious was growing on my head, because you didn't want to lose any prestige around your 90-60-90 buddies. Did I forget something? Oh! Yes. All of that after I went out with you to celebrate your damn birthday and even delayed the case because you asked me to!"

Shawn steps back because the hurt is too much to keep talking. "So don't you dare, Gus, don't you dare blaming me for anything here. I am not going to apologize for you ditching me to pimp your ego!"

And with that Shawn grabs the bag and is out of this freaking place.

[bigkitty75.livejournal.com]

Gus holds completely still. Until long after Shawn has left. When he finially does move, it's auto-matic, mechanical. Goes to his car, gets in, drives home, puts his things away.

Step by step, because doing anything else. Thinking anything else is so far beyond his reach right now.

The last thing he does before he goes to bed is pick up his cell phone and check the voice mail from these past few days.