Divas and A******s

In which Andre bumps into Renly and Renly resists the urge to throttle him like the prolific a*****e he is.

Chapter Two: Divas and A******s

"... and how does that make you feel?" The lady tapped her pen against the clipboard in her hand, she was almost annoyingly proper, exact and direct. She didn't tolerate no for an answer and would willingly spend the entire time giving Andre a hard stare, not quite a glare, but something with so much weight that it made him feel like he was somehow letting her down by withholding any and everything from her. He learned early on it was better to just answer and not put up a fight. It's not like he was being forced into this, he'd asked his dad to sign him up after he'd come home shivering and mumbling to himself like a lunatic.

Andre shuddered at the memory, those twelve hours still haunted his memory. Never again. Never again would he go down that road, it was dark and scary and worse than even his worst nightmare. 

Or in his case reality.

"Like s**t," He finally said, not bothering to sugarcoat anything, she wanted the unadulterated truth then he'd give it to her, she could have all the nitty gritty details, maybe then she would lay off. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I throw up anything I try to hold down. It's hell."

She nodded, expression unchanging. "Why do you think that is?

Andre gulped, his hands shaking slightly and he wet his lips with his tongue, his eyes closed. He could feel the walls closing in on him, hear the deep, sickeningly sweet voice of his father. His breath hitched and his heartbeat began to sky rocket but he still managed three simple words. "Because of him."

Renly took a deep drag from his cigarette, a mildly annoyed scowl plastered on his face. He glared down at his hands, which were shaking slightly, and clenched them tightly together. Stop. Breath. Inhale. He took another gulp from the burning rod, breathing it in like it was life itself. He felt the smoke roll through his lungs, down his throat, in, in in. Ever deeper, ever more invasive, and ever more welcome.

He held it there, letting it rest for a moment, letting it sit, enjoying the calm that came from the tobacco, the relief that came with getting his next nicotene fix. He knew he should stop. He knew it was slowly killing him; Anne wanted him to, Rhys pleaded with him, Rachel and Joan... the both of them were constantly riding his a*s, subtly leaving pamphlets on his desk, dropping not so subtle hints during their visits to his apartment. It annoyed the living hell out of him. It wasn't like he didn't already know what the side effects of smoking were. Hell, it was the twenty first century, everyone knew you could get lung cancer or heart disease or a whole nother array of death sentences, so you know what he said to all of them? F**k 'em. All those damn prodding voices? F**k you. All the people claiming to help him? Go suck a dick. 

It's not like he hadn't tried. It's not like he didn't want to. He'd tried so many times. To quit. To change. To be a better person. But it never worked out and you know why... ? 

'Cause he was stuck.

'Cause everytime he got stressed or angry and wanted to punch something a smoke was almost the only thing that would calm him down. That or sex, and it wasn't like he was about to go jump Anne everytime Luke or some other idiot rubbed him the wrong way or when Dr. Neville got on his nerves for the upteenth time. Hell he wouldn't go to Anne 'cause sometimes she was the problem herself, she could be just as bad as the rest of them if he let her.

Renly sighed tossing the butt of the now burned out cigarrette on the ground, a fiery look in his eyes that dared anyone to push his buttons. To give him an excuse to beat the s**t out of someone. That was probably the reason why everyone did the exact opposite thing and stayed way out of his way. He knew he was intimidating. He knew that with his trademarked scowl and the hate in his eyes; the punk look that clung to him like a parasite that he struck fear into even some of the most toughened of hearts. He almost felt hurt by that.

Almost.

It was an annoyance, everyone expected him to be some dim, close minded ridiculous chauvinistic a*s hole, but that was all a facade, there was so much more to him than that. Than those lies, those assumptions. People just couldn't see what was beneath the surface, they didn't realize just how wrong they were.

But that didn't matter, he'd rather the world hate him than let everyone else read him like an open book. That's what it all boiled down to, he hated it but he relished it. He liked that it pushed people away, everyone that he wouldn't want to be around anyway; only the strongest, most open minded were able to befriend him. The ones that wormed their way into his heart and made him want to get to know them more despite his better judgment.

Renly shoved his hands in his pocket, his jacket pulling taught against his lightly muscled frame, if anything the action made him look more sinister. It was six in the morning, dead of winter, cold enough to snow if the sky decided to grace his presence with rain, and he was trudging back to the school after getting only a few hours of sleep. Not to mention he'd just broken up with his kinda - kinda - not - girlfriend Anne, for eh, what... the fifth time? Does it even count if he felt nothing this time? Maybe that was a sign that it really was over between them this time.

Renly scoffed, sure steps stepping on the damp sidewalks, littered with yesterdays newspaper, bits of plastic and the occasional starbucks cup. It was gross when you thought about it. Fortunetly most the time you didn't, it was just another backdrop in the grand play called life that you accepted. Central park was green, beaches were almost always empty during the winter unless you wanted to freeze your balls off, and sidewalks were dirty, messy things. It's incredible how much more you took in when there was nothing beside you but your own anger.

The only good thing about being up at this hour was the fact that he was able to brood in peace, there was no one to ask what was wrong, or why the long face, or whatever other saying people seemed to feel obligated to say whenever they saw him. Didn't they realize how much that wasn't helping? Didn't they know that asking what was wrong only fueled the fire in him, the fire whose only outlet seemed to be through acting. That was probably the real reason he was heading back to school, everyone knew him there by now, and the security gaurds on the nightshift almost always let him in the auditorium if he'd had a rough night. They'd rather him let off some steam there then have to break up a fight later. It was a win win for both parties.

The young man glanced to his left as the school building came into view. It was an inconspicous building, looking like any other apartment complex on the block, easliy missed unless you knew to look for the sign engraved on a plaque on one of the brick gate holders in front of it. He shifted his weight, lifting a foot to make it up the first step, when suddenly, a body collided into his own. Renly gritted his teeth. His first instinct was to punch. His second was to yell like the transplant New Yorker he was. The third was to smoke.

He went with the second.

Renly stumbled back and grabbed the hem of the boys jacket, the top of his head covered by a plaid gray fedora. "Watch it a*s- !" he growled as the boy mumbled out a quick apology and looked up.

"Renly?" It was the guy from the night before, the one who had been reprimanding him about smoking. He felt his hand twitch at the thought, maybe... No. He let go of the young man in place of reaching into his pocket for another cigarette; even he knew having two smokes within five minutes of each other was just asking for lung cancer.

Renly raised a brow incredulously, tone mocking. "Andre?"

"What are you doing here?" Andre asked, wide eyed surprise overtaking his features as he spoke. It was probably the most emotion he'd seen on the man so far, the gleam in his eyes had a sobering focusing effect on the both of them. On the man it belonged to, it made him look alive, like he wasn't deadpanning everything in his wake, like he actually cared about something. Renly frowned minutely to himself before responding, "getting run over by short stacks apparently," he hadn't even realized Andre had made such an impression on him until now.

Andre gaped at him, his expression remimiscent of a fish, and Renly smirked at the thought, his brows knitting together slightly when he noticed the bags underneath the young mans eyes, he knew better than to comment though. It probably wouldn't do much good to let the boy know he knew he was wearing make-up, he knew most men wouldn't enjoy having it pointed out to them. He knew even less people who would want him to casually mention that he knew that they were sleep deprieved either. 

  That's what it all meant right? The fact that he could only see the make-up underneath his eyes, probably to cover up the faint ridges and what probably would've been dark circles under his eyes if he hadn't put any on suggested it. He also knew that if Andre went through the trouble of hiding it then he probably didn't want to talk about it, and that it happened fairly often. 

He knew how annoying it was to have some one prying into your personal secrets, secrets you obviously didn't want to share. It wasn't even like it was exceedinly obvious anyway, Renly only knew because he knew what to look for, he saw the signs, he was used to seeing them on himself when he acted, seeing the fakeness in someones appearance was just something he'd gotten good at over the years.

Renly drew himself from his thoughts, somehow he had managed to hold a decent conversation with the raven haired man even though his mind was elsewhere, he guessed that was the only perk of being an ADHD kid, any other time having multiple scenes of focus just became cumbersome. He was now climbing up the steps of the building, his long strides forcing the shorter man to walk twice as fast while Renly's mind caught up with what had just happened.

Renly frowned to himself, lips moving down into a not amused line: apparently he'd just signed himself up to give Andre a tour of the place, if not said in so many words. He reached the top of the stairs and held the door open for the budding film maker, turning only to see that Andre had spaced out again, a headphone in his right ear, his attention on something else in space, the bland, apathetic, dead look replaced on his face. He tripped over the last stair, a piece crumbling off and making him stumble, and Andre jerked himself upright, cheeks tinting a slight pink, not even a full on blush, more like a healthy flush. It was then Renly noticed just how pale Andre was, he was like a ghost, all ivory skin and hair as dark as night. It was a fairly poetic description, he rolled his eyes, Dr. Neville would've been proud.

Andre glanced up at him, his eyes asking, did you see?

Renly just snorted and shook his head, fighting back a smirk, 'cause what else was there to do? How could he have not seen? If he hadn't he wouldn't deserve calling himself an actor, hell he wouldn't deserve having sight if he was that blind already.

Andre composed himself, rolling his eyes, and brushing himself off before strutting the rest of the way in, passing Renly without a word.

Renly made a face, eye twitching slightly, and closed the door behind him. "Diva," He mumbled, not really expecting his voice to carry and for Andre to hear, flailing slightly when the doe eyed boy shot him with a menacing glare.

"I heard that," He drawled.

Renly gulped and loosened the shirt around his neck... that really couldn't be loosened considering it was just a T-Shirt, he didn't care though. It was about the sentiment alright?

"I noticed."

"Don't say that again," he deadpanned, still glaring daggers at Renly, "I have a name, use it. Don't forget it."

Renly smirked again and mock bowed before shooting back sarcastically, "as you say your majesty, your wish is but my ever humble command."

Andre huffed and rolled his eyes before turning back around and calling over his shoulder, "lead the way."

Renly pushed himself from up against the doorframe and walked to where the not - diva stood. "Come on," he shot Andre a look over his shoulder, playful demeanor gone. "And keep up, got it kid."

Andre made a face, and opened his mouth like he was about to snark back with some witty comeback, but Renly wasn't listening, in fact he was walking faster than before. Andre closed his mouth and let out an exasperated sigh before deciding it wasn't worth the effort and running after him.

He had a feeling he'd have plenty of chances to rile up the would be rocker in the future.

That thought was much more satisfying than it should have.

"'Him'?" Beth asked, raising a brow at the uncomfortable stance of the boy laying down on the couch across from her, "Who is 'he'?"

She watched him fidget for a few moments, her glasses settling on the bridge of her nose. She waited patiently, knowing the boy would answer her questions, she could tell he genuinely wanted to get better, to be able to face his demons with courage and strength.

But she also knew how hard it was, how difficult it was for someone like him to open up after years of neglect and abuse. Oh yes, she already had an idea of who 'he' was, she had been de-briefed by the last man to have him, but she needed to hear it from Andre's own mouth, she needed him to hear it himself, from himself. She needed him to instill the truth, fight against, it and then ultimately accept it. It was the only way they were going to get anywhere together.

She needed him to admit it.

She needed to know the problem.

Andre glanced at her, and gently wet his lips, eyes full of fear. He opened his mouth and took a breath, looked like he was about to say something but then shook his head, closing his lips again. Beth sighed and looked down at her watch, she only had five more minutes left with him before Andre would have to go, she had hoped to get this last bit out of him before he had to go... she sighed, and they had been making such good progress today too, if only she could get him to go the extra mile...

Her train of thought was cut off when she felt the weighty stare assessing her. She locked eyes with the teen and poured her heart out to him, hoping that at least a fraction of the hope she held bled through and registered for him. She wanted him to know that at least someone cared. That at least one person wouldn't abandon him, not like so many others that just thought him a waste of space. A mistake.

Andre never said as much, but it was implied. She could see it in the way he always looked down when he spoke, in how he'd bunch his shoulders in when he stood to make himself look smaller. She could see it in the broken look in his eyes he held when he thought no one else was looking. She sighed, looking back down at her notes. He was a much more serious case than she'd have thought. She'd dealt with hurt, dealt with loss, she'd seen it all, from the deranged to the beaten, but she had never encountered anyone so young and yet so old. It was a wonder he was even still around. She'd seen older men kill themselves for less than what he'd gone through.

It tore at her heartstrings, it did, filled her with such an ache that it threatened to consume her. She usually didn't take kids, but Paul had insisted, he couldn't handle him himself, but he knew he needed help. The only person Paul could think to refer him to was herself. It didn't take a lot of convincing, one look at Paul's notes was enough to get her on board. She knew she had to try. She knew she had to attempt to make a difference, to at least be the catalyst of change he needed to start to heal. 

If she could accomplish even that much she could rest in peace.

Beth cleared her throat and Andre looked down, she would try a different approach then. "You know, some people can be a******s. Andre," she paused waiting to see if that would get him to look up. "Andre, honey look at me." Andre slowly tilted his head up, gaze full of trepidation as he held her gaze. Beth nodded in approval.

"As I was saying, I know people can be a******s, real menaces to our egoes, my son could be one, heck my ex-husband defintely was one, but that doesn't mean everyone is one. Some people are just here to help." She looked at him over the rim of her glasses, letting her words sink in. "I hope you know that I'm here to help. I don't want to cause you anymore harm Andre."

Andre gulped and looked away, the inner struggle renewed within him. Beth waited, legs crossed over each other, pen poised over paper on the ready. The bell chimed signaling that their session was over but neither moved, Beth could feel that they were on the brink of something here, she refused to let him go before finding out what it was.

Andre sighed and ran a hand down his face, defeated. "This is confidential right?"

Beth nodded. "Of course, you're the one paying, I won't share these records with anyone you don't want me to."

Andre nodded again, hands still over his face, taking this in, before sighing and taking in a shaky breath. "My dad." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Beth asked, she knew what he was answering and it just confirmed her suspicions, but she needed him to use the full thought.

"'He's my dad," Andre said, sighing and turning to look at her, hands falling away from his face, coal brown stare hard with hidden defense as he worked up the nerve to finish. "Richard York."

Author's Note

Yep yep! Annnd that's chapter two. Oh hohohohohoho.... anyone catch onto the names yet? Yes. No. Maybe so? Trust me it's important~ If you're really curious just google York and Lancaster. I'm sure it'll come up easily enough. Annnyywayyy.... Curious as to the flashbacks? JUST WAIT AND SEE!!! Draaama~~ SHall ensue. Soon. Ish. I mean literally there will be drama. Considering its a film thing but like... you know... okay. 2am... Night!