Some Poems Don't Rhyme - Chapter 2
Jul. 29th, 2006 12:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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zekkass and stomrchild03 for beta-ing!
Title: Some Poems Don’t Rhyme, 2/?
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway?
Characters: Greg Proops/Wayne Brady, Drew Carey, Ryan Stiles, Colin Mochrie, Brad Sherwood, Kathy Greenwood
Prompt: 003. Ends
Rating: R
Summary: A goodbye isn’t painful, unless you’re never going to say hello again.
Chapter 2
The taping was unusually slow for a season opener. The guys seemed distracted and not really into it, like they had something bigger on their minds. The jokes were surprisingly tame and Drew even had to cut the taping short. This was all probably because Wayne was missing, and Kathy was the only fourth seater they could get to go on and with her they might as well have gone on with three performers. Greg carried on, though. He found that bitterness and feigned good spirits were always the best fuel for comedy, sarcastic, biting, comedy, but comedy none the less. He had practically carried the show tonight and was quite proud of that fact, but the fleeting happiness that came with a show well done vanished even more quickly than it normally did when he remembered why he had let himself get lost in the jokes tonight.
As he finishes changing into his street clothes, his eyes fall across a picture on the vanity. He picks up the rectangular object and runs his thumb along the simple black frame. It’s a picture of himself and Wayne. He remembers all the details of when the picture was taken. The year was 1990. They had been fooling around for about a year and neither of them were sure of what they had. Wayne had never been in something as big as this, something as forbidden as this, and Greg had never even imagined he could find something this real and true. Wayne was like a key to all the emotions he was too afraid to let out. The picture was snapped at a St. Patrick’s Day party. The guys were all drunk, even Colin, but surprisingly Greg and Wayne weren’t. Greg found that compared to being with Wayne, the high of being completely lit wasn’t necessary.
They were all at a pub about a block from their hotel and everyone was pinching Ryan because he wasn’t wearing green. Neither was Wayne, so Greg had just pointed that out with playful pinch on the rear when the photo was drunkenly snapped. In the picture Greg has his arm around Wayne’s shoulder and Wayne has both his around Greg’s waist. At a glance it just looks like two friends having a good time, but under closer examination the love could be seen. A trained eye would see that the two were so in love they weren’t even looking at the camera, and that they were looking at each other.
As Greg studies the old out of focus picture he decides that he needs to figure this out with Wayne. No amount of pride, not even his own, was worth giving this up. He closes his dressing room door and stalks down the hallway. He’s not even sure if Wayne is still in the building, but he goes anyway because he’s determined to set this straight. What he sees as he approaches an open doorway stops him dead in his tracks and sums up why Wayne had left him in such a sudden way. There, in the same room they had been in mere hours ago, where Greg was so coldly dropped, was Wayne in tight embrace with none other than Brad Sherwood. Greg’s stomach lurches and he thinks it’s time for a nice stiff drink. He stumbles out the studio doors and tries his damnest to keep his tears at bay until he reaches the safe dimness of the closest seedy bar.
*****
"Hey Wayne! Why’d you want..." Brad stopped mid-sentence as he stepped in to the green room. Wayne had left a message on his cell phone to come down the studio. It was his day off and in his message Wayne did sound a little frazzled, but nothing prepared him for the sight of his friend very nearly shaking with tears. Brad rushed to the younger man’s side and swept him into his arms. Trying, for once, to be adult enough to handle the situation even when he was more than a little scared inside.
"Tell me what happened. Is it Greg?" Brad asked, in a hushed, soft tone after the worst of Wayne’s sobs subsided.
"Yes, well, no." He paused. "There’s something worse that I have to tell you, and I’m sorry I’m telling you so late after I told the others, but it’s just so b..ba.." He stuttered as his rambling trailed off into more tears.
"Shh, it okay." Brad soothed, cradling him almost in a maternal manner. "It’s just so bad?" He asked, trying to decipher.
"Yeah, it’s bad. I’m sick, Brad." Wayne said, his face buried in Brad’s chest. Brad’s heart sank and he refused to look into what he knew those words plus the tears could mean. It couldn’t be.
"I have Leukemia." Wayne continued, his voice low and monotone. "The doctors found it about two months ago and it’s spread pretty far."
"Oh God." Brad squeaked, speechless. This couldn’t be happening. This sort of thing happened in newspapers and on TV movies, but not in real life. Not to people he loved. Brad pulled Wayne as close as possibly and Wayne hugged back. It was a desperate move that was needed by both of them. If either of them had looked up they would have seen a distraught and hurt Greg in the doorway.
"I couldn’t tell Greg. So I broke up with him. I can’t tell him..." Brad could feel Wayne shaking his head and squeezing harder as the anguished words left his mouth.
"Shh, it’s alright. It’ll be..." Brad’s codling was interrupted by possibly the most derogatory thing ever uttered by Wayne.
"It won’t be okay. I’ve been told that by countless doctor and people I don’t even know, but I don’t want to hear it from you!" He shouted. "Don’t say it, because it won’t. I’m dying! Dying! It’s not a cold or the flu, I didn’t stub my toe, I have cancer, God damn it!" Wayne broke off into pained sobs and the look of complete defeat in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
"I don’t know how, but it will be okay. And I’m saying it for real." Wayne opened his mouth to protest, but Brad continued in his tear choked voice. "I’ll make it okay. We’ll make it okay. You, me, and all your friends, and Greg, because we love you and, and...we’ll make it okay. Do you understand me?" Brad hoped what his heart felt was displayed the words his brain couldn’t quite get right.
Wayne looked at the man giving him unfaltering support and shook his head in agreement. "Thank you." Brad took Wayne in his arms once more and held him tight, and as he held him he tried to think of the good things, instead of how unfair it was that something so wonderful was being destroyed by something so evil.
____________
To Be Continued...
zekkass and stomrchild03 for beta-ing!Title: Some Poems Don’t Rhyme, 2/?
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway?
Characters: Greg Proops/Wayne Brady, Drew Carey, Ryan Stiles, Colin Mochrie, Brad Sherwood, Kathy Greenwood
Prompt: 003. Ends
Rating: R
Summary: A goodbye isn’t painful, unless you’re never going to say hello again.
Chapter 2
The taping was unusually slow for a season opener. The guys seemed distracted and not really into it, like they had something bigger on their minds. The jokes were surprisingly tame and Drew even had to cut the taping short. This was all probably because Wayne was missing, and Kathy was the only fourth seater they could get to go on and with her they might as well have gone on with three performers. Greg carried on, though. He found that bitterness and feigned good spirits were always the best fuel for comedy, sarcastic, biting, comedy, but comedy none the less. He had practically carried the show tonight and was quite proud of that fact, but the fleeting happiness that came with a show well done vanished even more quickly than it normally did when he remembered why he had let himself get lost in the jokes tonight.
As he finishes changing into his street clothes, his eyes fall across a picture on the vanity. He picks up the rectangular object and runs his thumb along the simple black frame. It’s a picture of himself and Wayne. He remembers all the details of when the picture was taken. The year was 1990. They had been fooling around for about a year and neither of them were sure of what they had. Wayne had never been in something as big as this, something as forbidden as this, and Greg had never even imagined he could find something this real and true. Wayne was like a key to all the emotions he was too afraid to let out. The picture was snapped at a St. Patrick’s Day party. The guys were all drunk, even Colin, but surprisingly Greg and Wayne weren’t. Greg found that compared to being with Wayne, the high of being completely lit wasn’t necessary.
They were all at a pub about a block from their hotel and everyone was pinching Ryan because he wasn’t wearing green. Neither was Wayne, so Greg had just pointed that out with playful pinch on the rear when the photo was drunkenly snapped. In the picture Greg has his arm around Wayne’s shoulder and Wayne has both his around Greg’s waist. At a glance it just looks like two friends having a good time, but under closer examination the love could be seen. A trained eye would see that the two were so in love they weren’t even looking at the camera, and that they were looking at each other.
As Greg studies the old out of focus picture he decides that he needs to figure this out with Wayne. No amount of pride, not even his own, was worth giving this up. He closes his dressing room door and stalks down the hallway. He’s not even sure if Wayne is still in the building, but he goes anyway because he’s determined to set this straight. What he sees as he approaches an open doorway stops him dead in his tracks and sums up why Wayne had left him in such a sudden way. There, in the same room they had been in mere hours ago, where Greg was so coldly dropped, was Wayne in tight embrace with none other than Brad Sherwood. Greg’s stomach lurches and he thinks it’s time for a nice stiff drink. He stumbles out the studio doors and tries his damnest to keep his tears at bay until he reaches the safe dimness of the closest seedy bar.
*****
"Hey Wayne! Why’d you want..." Brad stopped mid-sentence as he stepped in to the green room. Wayne had left a message on his cell phone to come down the studio. It was his day off and in his message Wayne did sound a little frazzled, but nothing prepared him for the sight of his friend very nearly shaking with tears. Brad rushed to the younger man’s side and swept him into his arms. Trying, for once, to be adult enough to handle the situation even when he was more than a little scared inside.
"Tell me what happened. Is it Greg?" Brad asked, in a hushed, soft tone after the worst of Wayne’s sobs subsided.
"Yes, well, no." He paused. "There’s something worse that I have to tell you, and I’m sorry I’m telling you so late after I told the others, but it’s just so b..ba.." He stuttered as his rambling trailed off into more tears.
"Shh, it okay." Brad soothed, cradling him almost in a maternal manner. "It’s just so bad?" He asked, trying to decipher.
"Yeah, it’s bad. I’m sick, Brad." Wayne said, his face buried in Brad’s chest. Brad’s heart sank and he refused to look into what he knew those words plus the tears could mean. It couldn’t be.
"I have Leukemia." Wayne continued, his voice low and monotone. "The doctors found it about two months ago and it’s spread pretty far."
"Oh God." Brad squeaked, speechless. This couldn’t be happening. This sort of thing happened in newspapers and on TV movies, but not in real life. Not to people he loved. Brad pulled Wayne as close as possibly and Wayne hugged back. It was a desperate move that was needed by both of them. If either of them had looked up they would have seen a distraught and hurt Greg in the doorway.
"I couldn’t tell Greg. So I broke up with him. I can’t tell him..." Brad could feel Wayne shaking his head and squeezing harder as the anguished words left his mouth.
"Shh, it’s alright. It’ll be..." Brad’s codling was interrupted by possibly the most derogatory thing ever uttered by Wayne.
"It won’t be okay. I’ve been told that by countless doctor and people I don’t even know, but I don’t want to hear it from you!" He shouted. "Don’t say it, because it won’t. I’m dying! Dying! It’s not a cold or the flu, I didn’t stub my toe, I have cancer, God damn it!" Wayne broke off into pained sobs and the look of complete defeat in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
"I don’t know how, but it will be okay. And I’m saying it for real." Wayne opened his mouth to protest, but Brad continued in his tear choked voice. "I’ll make it okay. We’ll make it okay. You, me, and all your friends, and Greg, because we love you and, and...we’ll make it okay. Do you understand me?" Brad hoped what his heart felt was displayed the words his brain couldn’t quite get right.
Wayne looked at the man giving him unfaltering support and shook his head in agreement. "Thank you." Brad took Wayne in his arms once more and held him tight, and as he held him he tried to think of the good things, instead of how unfair it was that something so wonderful was being destroyed by something so evil.
____________
To Be Continued...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-07-29 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-29 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-29 05:12 pm (UTC)Poor Greg and his jumping to conclusions.
*huggles Wayne again* If this happened in real life to Wayne I'd be crying right now, and I don't even know him.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-29 05:17 pm (UTC)