Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

impossibly screwed-up, a situation where one party had seemingly said their last farewell. Regardless of his apprehension, regardless of the writhing fear that snaked through his body, he was going to find out.
    ****
    Marshall met him at the side door of the same building where Scott had last seen Devon perform, where the dreaded confrontation had taken place. He'd used the ruse of taxes to get the kind security guard to usher him inside after the show had finished. There were fewer people milling about, but Scott was still just as nervous. He'd tried to fool his mind into believing it was a blind date, but then again, he wasn't exactly the type to involve himself in that sort of thing, so that plan went out the window. It all came down to facing the fears he'd buried over his entire life, or in the least, one very big one involving taking a chance on someone who could very well hurt him again. He wanted Devon back, and no one could do it for him.
    Scott had been keeping tabs on Smoky Grey—the name had made him chuckle and awww all at the same time—and he knew it was the last show they'd play in a while due to personal reasons. Basically, it was Scott's last chance to seek Devon out without turning into a stalker and taking to the Internet to find him. He'd considered bringing Devon's clothes with him, but that would have been admitting defeat before he even went for the win, so he'd left them in their designated, familiar spot.
    He took one calming breath before he lifted his hand to knock, noticing at the last second the door was already partially ajar. He snuck a peek inside, not wanting to interrupt if there was some meeting or other going on. It was dim inside but Scott could make out the silhouette of two men embracing—an intimate moment—with only a glance.
    Scott shifted his body a little further into the doorway, Devon's face becoming recognizable over the shoulder of the long-haired man he was hugging. His eyes were closed, his nose buried in the man's hair. The men's arms were wrapped tight around one another, Devon's right hand fisted in the long hair. Scott watched as Devon kissed the man's forehead, fingers tightening in his hair, and then Scott had had enough.
    He tore his eyes from the scene playing out, bypassing the urge to rip the two men apart from each other. He turned, black dots in his eyes making it hard to focus on which way he'd come, on which way he had to go to get the hell out of there. When his legs threatened to give way, he grabbed at the concrete walls, but their smooth glossiness gave him no assistance and he landed hard on one knee. One hand shoved into his pocket, the tiny bottle of Ativan rattling against his fingers, at least for a moment before it fell to the floor. Thankfully, there was no tell-tale sign of spilling, no tiny pings of pills scattering everywhere.
    "Here, let me help you." The voice was unfamiliar and female, the latter startling Scott more than the sudden appearance of a person at his side. "Do you need one or two?"
    Scott managed to croak out "two" before his lungs burned for air and he gave in to the hyperventilating that threatened to make him pass out.
    "Swallow or under your tongue?" The question would have made Devon chuckle if he were there and Scott would have chastised him for his dirty mind, but he wasn't there and it was a woman saying it and oh-my-God, I need to focus.
    "Why don't we get you some place more comfortable until those take affect?"
    He shook his head but was already being dragged from the floor, an arm wrapping around his waist. "I just wanna go home," he said. "Please take me to the door."
    "You're Scott, aren't you?" the still faceless woman asked.
    How did she know that? The last thing he wanted was for someone to recognize him and tell Devon he'd been rolling around on the floor outside his dressing room like some goddamn fan in heat. He needed to get out of there. Someone get me out of here.
    "Dev talks a lot about you, even now after he's said you dumped him."
    Scott sucked in a breath, blowing it out slowly along with the words, "I didn't dump him."
    "Does he know you're here?"
    He was starting to feel calmer, his nerves changing from snakes of destruction to worms wiggling sluggishly in mud. He tried to pull away from the tight hold around his waist but was unsuccessful.
    "We've been trying to find him someone to settle down with for years. He's never liked the lifestyle. We tease him that he should have gone into business