Topic: Backstage Drama

Jonathan Granger

Date: 2011-01-25 20:12 EST
Backstage at the Shanachie Theater...

During the play, Correy left his seat and made his way towards the back. A nice size chunk of change paid to the security guard after being pat down and Correy was strolling through the backstage. He could hear what was going on, on stage. And before he knew it, he was waiting in the wings, so to speak. He had a dozen long stemmed roses in his hands as he waited for the final curtain to drop. The play went well. Jon was really finding his stride, getting into the role and making it his own. The audience gave their usual share of applause and the cast took their bows. Jon loosened his tie as he made his way backstage, tired, but happy. As the actors left the stage, Correy stood there, waiting for Jon. He was dressed for the theater in a smart charcoal gray suit and royal blue tie that brought out his eyes. He smiled proudly as he watched Jon walk off of the stage. He held up the roses as he reached for Jon. Jon's face lit up when he saw Correy and the roses were only icing on the cake. He tossed an affectionate arm around Correy's neck and drew him in for a kiss. "You were amazing," he whispered as they hugged, just prior to the kiss. Then he stepped back and placed the roses in the crook of Jon's arm. "You really were, babe. I couldn't take my eyes off of you." He flushed a little as Correy laid the roses in his arms, wondering if it would make him appear feminine to accept them. He smiled nonetheless. "You're biased, but thank you." Correy laughed and slid his arm behind Jon's back. "So, let's get that gunk off of your face and find someplace to eat, I'm starved." He pressed a kiss to Jon's cheek, "So what if I'm biased. I've got the leading man for a leading man. Life doesn't get much better than that." Jon laughed again and snagged Correy's hand, leading him to his dressing room backstage. "Sounds like a plan. I'm a lucky man." "Lucky to be the guy that pays the healer's bills." Correy laughed happily as they walked through the backstage area, careful not to trip on ropes or cables or anything lying on the ground. Jon's smile faded just a little at Correy's comment, but he said nothing. He pulled open the door to his dressing room and held it open for Correy before stepping inside. Correy entered Jon's dressing room and he gazed about like a kid in a candy store. "Bet you could bang any chick in the place in here and never get caught." he laughed and turned around to watch Jon walk into the dressing room behind him. "But my baby wouldn't do that. He's so good to me." "Why would I want to..." He trailed off when Correy continued, furrowing his brows, and turning to place the roses on the dressing table. "This place is amazing. I should come visit you more often." Correy approached Jon, sliding his hands up Jon's chest. "Are you alright, babe? You should be happy. The crowd loved you. And I love you." "I'm fine, Corr." He lifted his head to look at Correy in the mirror and smiled weakly. He pulled away and sat down to start the process of removing makeup. "Jon..." he folded his arms as he stood behind Jon and looked at him in the mirror. "I know that smile. I know all of your smiles. And that smile means that there's something wrong, but you're going to try to grin and bear it. Which means keeping whatever's bothering you, from me. And that, my dear, won't fly. So spill it. What's wrong?" Jon dipped a cloth in cold cream and started smearing it over his face to remove the stage makeup, which accentuated his features making them look more dramatic. "Nothing's wrong." Correy walked around the chair and settled down onto the corner of the dressing table. He supported his weight with his two hands. "Jon, don't do this. Don't be quiet just to spare my feelings. If you've got something to say, then say it." Jon wiped the remainder of the makeup and cold cream from his face with a sigh. "I just worry about you, that's all." "Aww, you don't have to worry about me," Correy grabbed a cloth and leaned forwards to wipe some cold cream from Jon's jaw. "I'll be alright. Try not to worry so much. Ok?" Jon snagged Correy's hand as he was wiping the last remnants from his jaw. "Corr....I'm serious." "Whoa, hey!" Correy leaned back, though his hand was still caught in Jon's. "There's more to this than the broken nose. Has something else happened that I should know about?" Jon frowned up at Correy, a little uncertain if he wanted to tell him what he was thinking, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Jon," Correy's smile was gone and so was his good mood. "Tell me what?s on your mind. I'd rather hear it now, while you're thinking about it instead of in the heat of the moment and it's blurted out without thinking. And if you're breaking up with me, then I need to know that, too." "Breaking up with you?" Jon echoed, looking incredulous. "Why would I break up with you? I love you. I told you I'd" Christ, Corr....I'm not breaking up with you." "Then what is it?" He reached out to take Jon's hand in his own. Jon took Correy's hand and looked into his eyes, pausing a moment to gather his words. "I don't want you to get hurt again." Correy nodded slowly, seeing just how much this meant to Jon. "I'll try not to, but no promises. Ok?" "Just promise me to try." "I can promise that." He nodded again and then smiled. "I'm sorry I upset you, but I can't just sit by and let people bad mouth the ones I love. Most of all you. It just made me so angry that she said those things." "I know, Corr, but I don't want you to get hurt. Especially not because of me." He gave Correy's hand a squeeze to reinforce his concern. "Jon," he started to speak, and then shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, but if they'd been speaking about Lala or Kaylee or Dom or any of our family like that, I wouldn't have done anything different. Jon nodded his understanding and reached up to touch Correy's cheek. "I know." He smiled. "Just don't get hurt, okay' I don't know what I'd do if..." He broke off, frowning again, not wanting to finish that thought or consider the possibility of losing him "Baby, you're not going to lose me," he took in a deep breath and pressed his hand to Jon's. His eyes closed and he turned his head to place a soft kiss to Jon's palm. Then his eyes opened and he turned his head back to look into Jon's eyes. "They're bullies who think they can say and do whatever they like and nobody call them out on it. I'm not going to sit idly by and watch them try to tear you to shreds. I will call them out on it, every time. And if my nose gets broken again, then it does. But I can't let him hurt you." "Corr....you can't defend me every time someone says something nasty about me. It's the price you pay for fame. Are you going to deck the first critic who says I suck" People are going to talk. They're going to say things, not just about me but you. Us." "No, I won't hit. But I'll let them know that in no uncertain terms that people shouldn't throw stones when they live in glass houses." He nodded then, determined. "But Corr....if you insult people, you're no better than they are. There are other ways to deal with things." "Turn the other cheek" That's what got Caro whipped. Why am I the only one in this entire family that wants to do more than sit back and let people take advantage of us?" "I didn't say that." "Then what do you want me to do?" Jon blinked, eyes widening. "Wait....whipped" What are you talking about?" His expression changed, jaw clenching, face flushing with anger.

"I saw the bandages, the dirty ones that the maid was throwing away. They were on Caro's back when they took them off." he sighed, he'd made Jon upset again. "That son of a bitch whipped her?"

"Yeah, because nobody had the backbone to stand up to Jr. and pay the guy. And we all sat around with our thumbs up our asses, except Gigi. And I'm not going to sit with my thumb up my ass anymore." Jon narrowed his eyes and got to his feet, voice low, feeling defensive. "I didn't sit on my ass." "Jon, please don't be angry," he sighed and looked up at him. "What's done is done. All we can do is make sure it never happens again." "I didn't sit on my ass," Jon insisted, tugging at his tie and tossing it on the table. "What was I supposed to do' If I confronted Anubis, he'd kill her. If I went to the Watch, he'd kill her..." Correy sat back and turned his head to look over at the door. A hand ran through his hair. "I wasn't accusing you of anything, babe. Nobody did anything. I didn't even do anything." "I was there the night Gigi talked to his stooge. I was ready to shoot the son of a bitch." At this point, Correy simply sat back and listened. He scoot further back so that his feet dangled from the dressing table and he folded his hands in his lap. "Everyone thinks I'm just a pretty face. That's all Jon is. A pretty face." "Stop it." "Don't you think I wanted to do something" Don't you think I tried?" "We all wanted to do something, Jon. But I didn't see anybody doing anything. We all just moped around and hoped for the best." Jon felt the anger rising, not at Correy but at the situation, at his own inaction, his own helplessness. It had been a damned if you do and damned if you don't situation. And to find out now that the bastard had hurt her only infuriated him further. He clenched his jaw, grabbed the closest thing to his hand, which was his jar of cold cream, and threw it against the wall, shattering it. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch. I swear to God." The sudden act of violence startled and frightened Correy. He hadn't expected that from Jon. Slowly he slid from the dressing table and moved towards the door. "I....I'm gonna wait outside." Jon sunk into the chair, lost in thought. Just a few hours ago, he'd been so happy. Everything finally seemed to be coming together and now this. He knew Caroline had been hurt, and he'd been overjoyed at her return, but the thought of someone having hurt her like that enraged him. Some part of him heard Correy and knew he'd frightened him, but he needed a moment to regain his composure. Elbow propped against the dressing table, he shoved his fingers through his hair, head bowed in thought. Biting his lower lip, Correy pulled the door open. He turned his dark blue eyes onto Jon. "I'm sorry," he quietly said the words, then slipped out of the door. He closed it, and then leaned against it to take a few deep breaths. It wasn't Correy's fault. Correy had nothing to apologize for. But Jon couldn't say it, not yet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so angry about anything. Angry and useless. Correy looked up into the varying catwalks overhead. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe he shouldn't let what people say or do affect him. He sighed deeply, the pushed off of the door. Turning, he pulled it open and stepped inside. There was a small stool in the corner and he lowered his tall frame onto it. His knees nearly came to his chest. And he sat there, quietly watching Jon. Like the calm before the storm, Jon just sat there silent as stone, a raging storm that had been bottled up for too long. He didn't realize Correy was there behind him or maybe he'd have tried to keep his anger in check, but too much had happened, and this was straw that broke the camel's back. He lifted his head, looking at his own reflection in the mirror, and suddenly, without any warning, he threw a fist at his own reflection, shattering the glass, blood dripping from his hand. Correy was up and off of that stool in seconds flat. While the violence shocked him, yet again, the sight of blood is what set him in motion. "Jon!" Reaching for whatever he could find, he quickly wrapped Jon's hand in a cloth. "Why' Why'd you do that' Oh my God, so much blood!" Once that punch was thrown, all the anger faded away, leaving him feeling numb. He hardly felt the pain in his hand, though when he looked to Correy, there were tears in his eyes. "I tried to do something. I did," he said quietly. "I believe you." His hands were trembling as he held onto Jon's hand. The blood had already soaked through one rag and Correy reached for another. "Help me, please! I can't make it stop!" Jon was oblivious of the blood, though the pain was starting to reach through the numbness he was feeling. He looked a little confused and then he turned to look at his hand, feeling a little light-headed suddenly. Correy peeled back the soaked cloth to put a fresh one on. A large shard stuck out between Jon's knuckles. "Oh no, oh God." Correy was officially freaked out. "What can I do, tell me what to do!" It wasn't so much the sight of the blood that made Jon light-headed but the shock of seeing so much of it and realizing it was his own, the pain that was suddenly throbbing like a hot poker in his hand. "Corr..." His tongue felt suddenly thick, the edges of his sight darkening. His stomach lurched and he felt dizzy. Correy didn't try to remove the glass. Instead, he kept wrapping rags around Jon's swelling and bleeding hand. "Jon, stay with me. Come on baby, stay with me. Call the healer, she can fix this. Come on, Jon, Jon?" He was trying to hang on, his eyes looking up at Correy, losing their focus. Why was he fading from view" What was he shouting at him for" Why'd he have a look of panic on his face" He felt himself slipping away and then everything went black and he slumped in the chair, eyes rolling back in his head, his body going slack. "Oh no," he groaned. Gently, he sat Jon's hand upon his chest and eased him out of the chair and onto the ground. "Help!" he cried out, gently tapping Jon's cheeks. "Wake up, baby, please!" About this time, one of the theater's security guards burst into the room. He took one look at the scene before him and took over. Jon was lifted and placed onto a couch. A radio was used and a bucket of ice water arrived within minutes to douse Jon's hand into to staunch the flow of blood. And then, the room emptied out, leaving Jon and Correy alone. The emergency was over, the blood flow stopped; Jon's hand was wrapped with fresh gauze. With a moist towelette, Correy gently wiped the blood from Jon's arm, then his face. "Please wake up, Jon. Please."

Jon was slow in coming around, but after a little bit, his eyelids fluttered. Fortunately, he hadn't lost enough blood to be in any real danger, but enough to make him feel weak and woozy. He muttered a soft groan as he pried his eyes open; his hand feeling like it was ten times bigger than it should be. He had to blink several times to bring Correy's face into focus. He didn't remember right away what had happened and felt a little confused, though he'd only been passed out for a few minutes. "What..." Correy stopped wiping Jon's face when he started to come around. There were fresh tears on his cheeks and a smile on his face. "Shhh, it's ok. I'm here." The wipe was tossed into a trash can, and then Correy gently put his hand to Jon's forehead and pushed his hair back. "You had an accident. But you're ok. The healer should fix you right up." He tried to lift his head from the couch but still felt too weak and dizzy. "An accident..." He looked over at the shattered mirror and remembered what he'd done, laying his head back with a groan at his own stupidity. He closed his eyes a moment and then turned his head to look at Correy, seeing the fresh tears on his face. "Don't cry, Corr. Why are you crying?" "Shhh," Correy repeated as he sat back a bit. "You're going to be alright," Correy refrained from answering Jon's question, knowing that Jon would start to feel guilty. "Just lay back and rest a bit." Jon reached toward Correy with his uninjured hand, shaking as it was, to touch his face and brush away the tears. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot." "I'm alright," he took Jon's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before laying it back down onto Jon's chest. "You should rest. Give me your phone; I'll get the healer over here." Jon couldn't really argue with him. He felt too weak to argue. He wasn't sure what had happened after he'd passed out. His hand was still throbbing but felt strangely cold. He assumed from all the blood that he must have severed a vein. He waved a shaky hand toward his street clothes that were hanging from a hanger. "In my pocket." He lifted his wrapped hand to look at it, his costume splattered with blood. "Tay is gonna kill me." Not to mention the shattered mirror. "Ok," Correy bent over and placed a kiss to Jon's forehead before getting up and crossing the room. "Mataya's going to take that out of your salary." He was trying to make light when he truly didn't even feel light himself. The phone was found and he quickly sent a text message. He was watching Correy move about the room, a worried look on his face. "You mad at me?" Ironically, he echoed Correy's own words that had been asked more than once. "Me, mad at you?" Correy crossed the room once again and sat by Jon's side on that little stool. "How could I ever be angry at you, babe?" "Because I'm an ass." He reached for Correy's hand with his uninjured one. "Makes two of us. Peas in a pod." He took the offered hand, and then brought it up to his mouth to kiss it softly. "I love you, asshole," he smiled and kissed his hand again. Jon smiled weakly in return, the anger having melted away. "We sure are a pair, huh?" Correy chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the corner of Jon's mouth. "We are a pair, and I wouldn't want it any other way." His expression turned serious, touched by Correy's tenderness. It was a side of them both few others were allowed to see, but maybe that would change. "Did you mean what you said the other night?" "Every last word. That's one thing you do not have to worry about. I love you." "No, I mean....when you asked about marriage. How could you think I'd ever break up with you, Corr" I love you. I can't imagine my life without you." "I wouldn't have asked you. I'm dead serious. I see nobody else in my life but you." He closed his eyes when Jon continued to speak and he nodded. "And I, you." "I don't want anyone else either. It's like all my life I've been waiting for you." "I think you've said that before." Correy leaned to give Jon's lips a gentle kiss. "But I love hearing it. So you just keep on saying it." Jon smiled weakly into the kiss and pushed himself up onto an elbow, trying to sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over him. "Nu uh." Correy quickly helped Jon to lie back down. "We pulled a pretty big piece of glass out of your hand. Didn't think we'd ever get it to quit bleeding. So until the healer gets here and does her thing. You're grounded, mister." He pouted up at Correy, looking boyish. "I want to go home." "She'll be here soon." Correy then shifted so that he was sliding onto the couch and pulling Jon's arms around himself. "Until then, we rest, ok?" "The healer," Jon repeated, with a groan. "At least it's not a broken nose this time."

Correy snuggled into Jon's side, his head upon Jon's chest. "Give her a little variety to spice up her life." It was a poor joke, but Correy smiled, anyway.

He laid his head against Correy's shoulder, his arms wrapped around him. "I'm sorry I scared you." "It's ok," he looked up with his dark blue eyes. "Just reminds me that there's more to you than a pretty face." Jon's chest gently rose and fell with each breath, his heart beating slowly and steadily beneath Correy's head. He liked how it felt to hold him close. It was the quiet moments alone he loved the most. He smiled a little at Correy's statement. "Using my own words against me." "I would never do such a thing." He closed his eyes and held his breath. Jon's heart was beating strong and in a rhythm that Correy could fall asleep to. "Love you, Possum." Jon sighed softly and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to Correy's care, knowing there was no one who loved him more.