For the Record: 4/5
~ Chapter Four ~
“Get me another one Kimmy, and make it a double…”
“Michael, I really don’t think you need anymore tonight. You’ve been pounding them back like crazy.”
“Psh… you wanna know who’s pounding tonight? My boyfriend and his ex. That’s who’s pounding tonight. Fuckin’ Australians. Who needs that country anyway? I mean seriously… I bet there’s fuckin’ WMDs there. We should just take them over too.” Michael leaned forward against the bar, twirling his glass in his hands, his slur had become progressively worse since he’d walked in almost an hour ago.
The bartender shook her head with a heavy sigh, sliding a glass of water along the bar. “You wanna talk about it? Maybe it would help if you could get it off your chest, ya know?”
Michael grabbed the proffered glass greedily, emptying its contents with a grimace. “You gave me water.”
“Yeah, it’s called hydration. I really don’t want you pukin’ all over my bar tonight buddy.” Kimmy stepped in front of her drunken (and on the verge of disorderly) customer to fill his glass once again. “So talk to me man… what’s goin’ on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s goin’ on…” Michael raised his glass, pointing an accusatory finger at his makeshift therapist. “This Australian asshole just showed up in my home and works some kind of mind fucking mojo on Ryan. And then… then I find out they dated for like five years or something and he never fuckin’ told me anything. Not a damn thing. But he’s all like ‘Oh Mike, he was such a jerk, there’s nothing there, I swear baby.’ And then...” Michael flung both of his arms outwards, his ice water splashing a nearby patron. “And then I catch them kissing. Not just any kind of kiss either, like full on with tongues and hands everywhere. They’re totally having sex right now. I know it.”
Kimmy stood silent for several minutes while Michael completed his drunken rant. She was about to interject with some advice she’d developed after working several years behind the bar when Michael climbed back onto his soapbox.
“God. I’m so stupid. I even made this list.” Michael reached into his back pocket to remove a folded piece of notebook paper, spreading it open onto the water-drenched bar. “I made this list about the stuff I wanted to talk to Ryan about. Because I wanted to hear his side of the story, you know?”
“Yeah I know…” Kimmy picked up the paper in an attempt to keep the ink from bleeding beyond recognition. “Let’s see what you wrote here. Point number one… trust?”
“Oh yeah… What the fuck dude? He couldn’t just trust me with this kind of shit. I mean I get that Ian put him through hell, but I am his boyfriend, you know? I love him and I tell him everything… it’s not fair!” Michael was trying really, really hard not to pout, but his body was quickly denying his brain any control.
“I’m sure he has his reasons, Mike. We all have our weaknesses, maybe this Ian guy is one of them.”
“Ian fucking Thorpe. Asshole.”
“Okay, focus… let’s talk about point number two. Control?”
“Control…. Control. Oh, my point about control was that I don’t get how a guy like Ryan, who is like totally independent and doesn’t ever do anything anybody wants him to do could, be so manipulated by such a jerk. And then I started thinking that maybe I was controlling him by asking him to move out here with me. What if I’m turning into the exact same jerk?”
“I’m sure that’s not the case Mike. You’ve been together for like what… almost a year? It seems perfectly normal to me for you guys to live together. So how about equality…?”
“Yeah, fuckin’ equality. We’re supposed to be equals in this whole thing. I love him and I would do anything for him and I want him to know that. I want him to know that I would never hurt him like that douchebag.”
Kimmy placed her hand on Michael’s forearm lightly. “Tell me if I’m wrong here Mike, but it sounds like there’s something else going on. You seem to be focusing on proving to Ryan that you’re not like Ian. Why is it so important to you to differentiate yourself from him?”
Michael shook his head slowly, staring into his now empty water glass. “Because for my entire life I’ve been compared to him. He’s been in my head for ten fucking years…”
** XXIX Olympiad: Beijing, China **
Michael glanced up at the newspaper article taped to the back of his locker. The words of his former competitor had haunted him through trials and through the past few weeks of training. Ian Thorpe thought he couldn’t do it. Thought he couldn’t beat Spitz’s record. Well fuck him. I can do it and I will do it. He slammed his locker with much more force than he had anticipated, taking several deep breaths to clear his head.
“Hey man, you all right?”
Michael flinched just slightly when he felt Ryan’s hand on his shoulder, turning to offer him the brightest smile he could muster. “Yeah just… I really want to prove them all wrong, you know? I want to prove to all of them that I’m not just a fluke. That I’ve tried so damn to be better than him.”
“Mike, I really doubt that anyone doesn’t think you’re better than Spitz.”
“Not Spitz, Ryan. Thorpe. I’ve admired him like my entire life. I always wanted to be as good as him, and now that I could be better he has to tear me down. It’s like I can never break away from him.”
Ryan tensed slightly when he heard Michael say the Australian’s name. “Dude, don’t let him get to you like this. This is what he wants, man. He wants to fuck with your mind. Don’t swim his race, don’t let him win.” He gently slid his arms around Michael’s waist, drawing him into his comforting embrace, smiling when felt Michael drop his head to his shoulder. “You’re going to do amazing, just have faith in that.”
“Thanks Ry…” Michael tightened his grip on the shorter man, needing all of the strength and comfort he could get.
*
With all of his races behind him, Michael felt like he was riding high and nothing could bring him down. Even when he entered the OMEGA press conference room and faced down his greatest rival to date (other than his best friend Ryan), Michael felt confident and strong. He returned the Australian’s arrogant smirk as they were forced to pose for pictures and answer ridiculous questions about caloric intake and whether Michael had had enough time to take it all in. Of course not you fuckers, I just finished two days ago.
Michael’s greatest personal accomplishment came when Ian was forced to answer for his comments about Michael’s inability to win the eight gold medals that were now sitting in his mom’s suitcase. Ian smiled and courteously answered their questions, offering an acceptable explanation for his claims. Michael tried to hide his smug look of triumph, but this moment had been eight years in the making. After signing multiple autographs and posing for yet another round of pictures, the two men were granted a few moments alone before parting ways.
“I meant it when I said you couldn’t do it. I really believed you didn’t have the commitment or the drive or the class to carry the title of ‘greatest athlete’. And you will crumble Michael. You will get home and you will fall apart. I can’t wait for that day.”
Michael surged forward to retaliate with physical aggression but stopped himself when Katie Hoff entered the room, offering both men one of her ridiculously wide smiles. “We will settle this Ian. And you will regret all of this, I promise you that.”
“We’ll see, mate.”
** Present Day **
“And now he’s here. Thorpe 2, Phelps 1. He always fucking wins.” Michael raised his head to rest his chin on the bar, his glazed-over eyes searching for the blonde bartender, unable to focus on the rapidly moving object in front of him.
“I hate to say this Mike, but Ryan was right back then. You’re letting him win if you just get angry and walk away. You gotta go back there and fight for what’s yours.”
Michael groaned softly, dropping his head back to the cool wood. “I can’t go back like this… I’m a fuckin’ mess.”
“Well is there someone you can call and stay with for the night?”
“Yeah, yeah there’s someone I can call…”
*
Ryan jumped up from the couch when he heard the front door unlock. He quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and walked into the foyer. “Michael…?”
“Wrong Phelps…”
“Oh. Hey Debbie, what’s up?” Ryan shifted nervously under the all-knowing mom look he was receiving.
“What’s up is that my drunken son is passed out in my passenger seat. You want to tell me what’s going on, or should I take Michael home and let him tell me in the morning?”
Ryan crossed his arms over his bare chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and unsure of himself. “It’s kind of a long story…”
“Well I’m already up and Michael’s not going anywhere. So let’s talk, son.”
*
Debbie placed her coffee mug onto the coffee table gently, releasing the sigh of disappointment she’d held in for the past half hour while Ryan tried to explain the situation as best he could. “So you think things are really over between you and Ian?”
“I know they are. That kiss made me realize so many things. Most importantly that he is everything that I don’t want. I already knew that I loved Michael. I mean, I love him so much that it hurts, you know? But now I know that I have the strength to stand up to my past and I won’t panic every time Ian comes back into our lives. Just thinking about my life without him…” Ryan quickly removed his glasses to wipe away the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “I can’t. I won’t live my life without him.”
“Then you need to just tell him that Ryan. He needs to know that you choose him. You know as well as I do that Ian Thorpe threatens him. It used to just be confined to the pool but now that he knows you used to have a relationship with him, I’m sure you can imagine what that must do to him.” Debbie gently patted the top of Ryan’s head before dropping her hand to the back of his neck.
“I know…” Ryan sat in silence for a few moments, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “You must be exhausted… we should go get Mike so you can go home.” Ryan pushed himself up, cleaning up the dishes they’d used.
*
Ryan tucked Michael into bed after helping his mother bring the dead weight into their home. He took a few minutes to gently stroke his fingers through Michael’s hair, content to simply watch him sleep as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I love you…”
“I love you too baby.” Ryan dipped down to place a tender kiss to Michael’s forehead, whispering. “Always…”