Remy flipped the business card he had in his hand over, fidgeting with it. Jackson had invited him to a showing he was hosting tonight at a local art studio. He had handed him the card just before they parted ways at the little coffee shop a few weeks ago.
For the longest time, he thought about not coming. Yet here he was standing, across the street from the studio. He even dressed up for it. In his case, that meant he wore his work clothes, so a nice pair of dress slacks, button-down shirt, and tie. He has never been to an art show before, so he wasn't aware what the protocol for attire was, rather be overdressed than under.
Stuffing the card into his back pocket as they asked for his coat at the door, getting handed a small slip with a number in return. The bright lighting and white background were a huge difference from the night. Photos hung on all the walls. People looking at them from a distance, making comments about what the image said to them.
Taking his time as he moved around. This wasn't his cup of tea at all, feeling rather out of place if he was honest. Ready to turn around and leave when it caught him. The image on the far back wall.
"I want it down." He spoke, raising his voice. " I want it down."
Remy drew attention to himself both with his voice and the fact that he pushed in close to the image, placing his hands on the side of it. Trying to lift it so he could pull it off the wall, but it wasn't budging.
"I want it down." He repeated.
His body started to shake with anger as he struggled with it. "I didn't give . . . we didn't give . . "
He was yelling at this point and not aware of it either. The image was of Spencer it was of Spencer and him from that night at the boardwalk, a picture of them kissing. A split second caught and encased a moment of when everything was going right for him.
"I got it." Stated Jackson as he pushed past the security. That was headed straight for Remy.
He hadn't seen him come in tonight. He half expected him to not even show. His yelling caught everyone's attention, making heads turn to see what was happening.
"I didn't give you permission to use this. . . . to take this of us."
Remy, yelling, "Or that one!"
The second image catching his attention now, one of himself knelt next to Spencer's grave. His forehead pressed against his stone, the look of pain and anger on his face as he cried. The note from Spencer held tight in his hand.
"No. NO. I want them down. I want them down."
He was in a full panic, not sure what it felt like to have an anxiety attack but was pretty this was it. His chest was tight, and it was hard for him to breathe. His vision was narrowing.
Jackson pushed through the last few people to finally make it to Remy, placing his hands on his shoulder, which Remy instantly pulled away from.
"I want them down. I don't want anyone looking at these." He yelled this time directly at Jackson.
A hush came over the people around him as if he was the one in the wrong for yelling at Jackson. Security hadn't stopped when Jackson told him he had it the first time, giving them another look and a shoo of his hand.
"I got this." He spoke to them before turning his attention back to Remy.
"I can't breath." Remy started pulling at his tie that felt like it was now coking him.
"Com'on let's get some air." Turning to look back, motioning for his assistant to take over.
"If I could have everyone's attention, please. The next installment. . ." Her voice cut off as they headed to the back.
The backroom was mostly used for storage and a makeshift office. Jackson guided Remy to the couch, "Gotta relax and breath."
Jackson took in a long breath, wanting Remy to do the same. Even without the ability to breathe, he found some way to talk.
"I want them taken down now." He coughed out. "Spencer would never. . . " The words choking him, "He would . . . never. . . "
Remy pushed himself up from the couch. They had to come down. People couldn't keep looking at them. Spencer would never want something like that on display for all to see and judge. Think hateful things about him. He didn't want that for Spencer.
"Remy, stop."
"NO! You stop."
Remy pushed him away as he went for the door to head back out. Telling himself if he had to tear them down piece by piece he would.
"Remy," Jackson called out one last time. Getting a good grip on his arm pulling him hard towards himself, "You need to calm down."
Calming down was the last thing he could do right now. Rage was all Jackson could see when he looked into his blue eyes, placing his arm around Remy, holding tight so he couldn't pull away.
"You need to breathe." He repeated, taking in another deep breath.
Spencer, struggling to come to terms with who he really is at the core before its to late.
Remy, unable to have the one thing he's always wanted and learning that maybe his cards were dealt differently than he saw them.
Jackson, a free soul that wants to ease the pain in the lives around him. Getting a little more than he ever imagine to get.
This story may contain some triggers for readers : Gay Bashing/Slurs, Strong Language, Abuse, Anexity, Pain, Drug Use, and Death. All parts containing triggers will be marked as M.
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