[For Maxxie] Timed to the evening of 9 November 2011.
Tony Stonem is not used to feeling insecure. It's not simply difficult, it's distasteful, and when it sneaks in he always meets it with a measure of affronted disdain, as if he cannot believe such a base and ridiculous emotion would dare set its dirty feet in the temple of his own mind.
He's reluctant to assign such a strong label to the way he's currently feeling about the arrival of Billy's ex-boyfriend, but the fact remains that even if he's not precisely insecure, he isn't secure, either. He would like to think that five months spent, as far as Billy knows, being a model boyfriend and, above all, making more of an effort than he ever managed before, should render the threat moot. But it doesn't. Since he watched precious Theodore stride angrily down the boardwalk toward Tony's boyfriend's house, Effy's voice has risen from the depths of his subconscious and repeated a mantra that Tony, had he the option, would really like to ignore.
He loves somebody else.
And isn't that just a bitch? An obviously superior option, and he has to be legitimately concerned that Billy will chuck him for an anger management poster boy. It should be interesting, and it is, but that uncertainty rankles.
Could be that's why he finds himself leaning in the doorway to Maxxie's room, or it could be that he just needs someone to fucking talk to. It isn't as if he can ring up Sid, now is it?
Not that he'd care anyway.
"I was just assaulted on the boardwalk," he calmly remarks by way of greeting, hands in his pockets and hips canted forward.
He's reluctant to assign such a strong label to the way he's currently feeling about the arrival of Billy's ex-boyfriend, but the fact remains that even if he's not precisely insecure, he isn't secure, either. He would like to think that five months spent, as far as Billy knows, being a model boyfriend and, above all, making more of an effort than he ever managed before, should render the threat moot. But it doesn't. Since he watched precious Theodore stride angrily down the boardwalk toward Tony's boyfriend's house, Effy's voice has risen from the depths of his subconscious and repeated a mantra that Tony, had he the option, would really like to ignore.
He loves somebody else.
And isn't that just a bitch? An obviously superior option, and he has to be legitimately concerned that Billy will chuck him for an anger management poster boy. It should be interesting, and it is, but that uncertainty rankles.
Could be that's why he finds himself leaning in the doorway to Maxxie's room, or it could be that he just needs someone to fucking talk to. It isn't as if he can ring up Sid, now is it?
Not that he'd care anyway.
"I was just assaulted on the boardwalk," he calmly remarks by way of greeting, hands in his pockets and hips canted forward.