Mike couldn't sleep.
It wasn't an unusual problem for him to have, but this night, when he closed his eyes, the image of Chester holding onto the headboard was there, taunting him, reminding him he was laying in the very bed in which he'd been with Chester. Flashes of Chester's neck, his head thrown back against his own shoulder, his lips on Chester's pulse and his arm around Chester's waist, his hand bringing Chester to climax...
Mike opened his eyes, staring out into the blackness. This is ridiculous, he thought, reaching for his phone carefully, hoping not to wake Anna.
3:32 AM You awake?
There was a long wait, Mike thumbing through Twitter, before the answer came.
4:11 AM I am now. Everything ok?
4:11 AM Unlock your door
Gingerly Mike rose from the bed, holding his breath and glancing at Anna before making his way to the connecting door, carefully unlocking his side, waiting to hear the same from the other side. There was a soft click, and then Chester opened the door a crack, peering at Mike with sleepy eyes. Mike pressed his palm against the door with just enough force to indicate that he wanted to come in, and Chester relented, moving aside as the door swung his way and Mike slid inside the room. With another soft click he closed the door behind him, immediately feeling Chester's arms slide around him, and Mike turned and caught Chester's face in both hands, landing a gentle, restrained kiss on the other man's waiting mouth.
"Mikey... is everything ok?" Chester tried again, pressing his palms to Mike's back and squeezing him closer. He was warm and sturdy and comforting, and Chester couldn't get close enough to him, wondering how things had gone with Anna.
"I don't know Ches... " Mike felt the tears starting to slip down his cheeks, "have you talked to Talinda?"
Reluctantly, Chester let go of Mike's waist, walked toward the bed and switched on the lamp, peering at Mike in the dim light. "Yeah, we talked tonight. I called her after I left your room. Figured if Anna was just showing up here I probably needed to talk to T... definitely don't want her showing up here too."
Flicking away the drops that had made their way down to his chin, trying to be composed, Mike calmed his breathing and asked, "did she know?"
"Yeah... she knew." Chester sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Mike with an expressionless face. Emotionless voice. Waiting...
Mike wasn't sure if he should go to Chester or not, what he should do with his hands, where to look. "What did she say?" he finally asked, afraid to hear the answer.
Something about the look on Mike's face made Chester ask, "I think I want to hear what happened with you and Anna, first." Eyes still cautious, he peered at Mike from behind his glasses, watching all of the emotions slide over Mike's face; he'd never had a good poker face.
Fear. Anger. Disgust. Love. Need. Desperation. And finally, resignation. "I asked her to stay, Ches. I... told her that I was willing to try to fix what I've done. We fought at first, but then when we started really talking... reminiscing... I thought that maybe I haven't tried hard enough. So I told her I'd try... to make it work between us." His face crumpled as he heard his words out loud, words he felt were the beginning of the end of his relationship with Chester, and Mike wanted to disappear, for the floor to open up and swallow him at that precise moment. I think I've made a huge mistake.
A hint of anger shined in Chester's eyes before it was replaced with what appeared to be cool detachment. "But... that's not what you want, Mike."
"It's what I'm supposed to want, though. I'm supposed to want to be faithful to my marriage." Mike's voice faltered, though he was trying to sound convincing.
Chester knew Mike well, and he knew that what he'd just uttered was complete bullshit, and losing his temper a bit he shot back, "don't you think it's a little late for that? Faithfulness? For God's sake, Mike, you've fucked me every day since we left LA, sometimes twice! Do you really think that being faithful is what you want?" Chester hissed, trying not to yell at the emcee.
Mike's eyebrows drew together, zeroing in and fixating on one of the words Chester had chosen. "I told you, Ches, it's not fucking. It's not just sex. I... I love you, Chester, I know I'm screwing everything up right now but I swear to you-"
"Stop, Mike," Chester cut him off coldly, holding up a hand and turning his face away, "you're making a fool of yourself. Why don't you just crawl back to your wife now. Oh, wait, that's exactly what you've already done."
Pain pricked at Mike's heart as he looked at Chester, thinking how he wanted to go to him and take his hand, parade him around and show the world that Chester Bennington belonged to him... how he had thought that maybe, magically, everything would work out for them... and how now, with his acceptance of Anna staying with him, he'd agreed to try to push what he felt for Chester aside, to deny it the way he'd been denying it for years, to work on a marriage he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to be in for the right reasons, rather than sentimentality and history and a sense of what others expected from him. It was all overwhelming and despairing.
"I'm supposed to want to try to make things right. She's done nothing wrong. She... I... Chester, I couldn't do it, I couldn't just end it, and I'm sorry! I know I've fucked up!" His voice was low but impassioned, conscious of his sleeping wife next door, determined to see this conversation through without waking her. Mike couldn't stand the thought of Chester dismissing him, turning him away without understanding where he was coming from. Wasn't he doing the right thing, giving Anna the chance to make things right? Wait. That's not what this is about. She doesn't need to do anything. This is all me. I'm the one that fucked up. I'm the one that has to fix things. How am I supposed to do that when all I want is Chester? He stopped, looking at Chester, totally confused.
"Do you expect me to get angry at you, Mike? Do you want me to beg you to stay? Because I'm not going to do that. I made my choice, Mike. I made my choice when I walked into your room in Birmingham and told you yes. I committed to the idea of us, and I can't say that you've done the same. In fact, I know you haven't. When the guys confronted us at breakfast, you were mad at me for giving them bits of the truth. When I wanted to tell the band we were together, you didn't. Now you're standing here in my room, telling me you've asked Anna to stay, and it just screams to me that you were never in this all the way. This was a big decision we made, one we made together, that could potentially end our careers and I was okay with that, Mike. I'm willing to give up everything to be with you, and you aren't willing to do the same for me. You're a coward, Mike."
Mike felt the blood drain down to his feet, staring at Chester in shock. He's right. I'm a fucking coward. But I know that I need to do this. I have to know I'm doing the right thing, one hundred percent. "You're right. I'm scared. This is huge, Chester. I have to know, I have to be certain, for my kids' sake, I have to know I'm doing the right thing, that I gave her a chance."
Chester waved his hand in the air again, "you should have done that before we even began, Mike. You should have known whether or not you were in all the way." His facade was starting to crack, his hurt feelings and a bit of desperation starting to show through the indifferent exterior. "All those things you said, every time you said you loved me, that you couldn't imagine going on with your life without me... did you mean any of it?"
Mike closed his eyes, so afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Of course I mean it, Chester. I don't want this life without you in it."
Bitterly, Chester finished what he imagined to be Mike's unspoken words-- "you just don't want anyone to know. You thought you could have your marriage and me, too."
Shaking his head, Mike choked out, "that's not it! Don't say things like that, Ches... God, I am so confused right now. What I want and what I should want, what I should do... I feel like it's not going to matter what I do, I'm going to hurt someone!" He looked at Chester, his eyes pleading, taking a step in the vocalist's direction.
Chester made no move toward Mike, he was still stunned at the turn of events and the betrayal he felt. "Do you really think you're going to work it out with her, Mike? Do you really think you can go back to the way things were between us? Always wanting something just out of reach?" Without breaking eye contact, Chester asked, "is that really what you want, Mike?"
Mike made a move to reach for Chester, but he turned away and stalked to the window, his back to Mike. "I think you should go, Mike," he stated flatly, echoing Mike's words from the night before, when he had asked Chester to leave his room for the first time ever.
Taking one more step, Mike faltered, his eyes blinded by tears as he stopped, and gasped out, "Ches, please... I need you to understand why I have to try."
Softly, Chester put an end to their conversation. "Twenty years, Mike. Yeah, you've been with her twenty years, but you've loved me the whole time. And here I thought you'd finally matured enough to not care what anyone else thought about you being gay or bisexual or whatever. Turns out, you're just as scared now as you were twenty years ago. I can't believe I let this happen. I should have known, since we've gone so long the way we have, that you would never be able to leave her and commit to me. I never should have said yes to you, Mike."
Chester turned and their eyes met, and he watched the tears freely streaming down Mike's face, then said again, "I think you should go."
Hesitating, Mike's eyes pleaded with Chester, waiting for him to say something to make it better, to undo the mess he'd made, but Chester stood his ground, unwilling to give even a little. When nothing was said, Mike dropped his eyes to the floor and breathed out, "ok. Ok, Ches."
Chester watched as Mike disappeared back through the connecting door, and listened to the soft click of the lock on the other side, and he could swear, he heard his heart breaking.
**********
Mike sat in his bathroom floor, his arms around himself, sobbing silently into Chester's discarded shirt, his mind racing. I have to do this, I have to try with her. I will never forgive myself if I don't. I can't just walk away. He's never going to forgive me. We never should have given in, never should have tried this. I'm doing the right thing, aren't I? I promised I would love her forever, that I would be faithful, that I would honor my family. After everything we've been through, I owe it to her. Chester, Chester, I'm so sorry. He breathed in Chester's scent from the shirt, his heart aching, his mind and body so very tired, drowning in the despair he felt in every cell of his body.
When the tears finally stopped and he felt hollow, dead inside, he stood, trembling, and washed his face, catching his eyes in the mirror as he toweled off. I look like shit. And I brought it all on myself.
Creeping back to the bed where Anna was sleeping, Mike stood next to her for a long time, watching her face in troubled sleep, a furrow between her eyebrows. She was beautiful, and he loved her, and they shared three kids and years together. I owe both of us better than what I've been doing behind her back the last two months. I can do this. I am really going to try, I'm going to be attentive, I'm going to work on this. I have to.
He crawled into bed next to her, hesitating before putting an arm around her waist and drawing her to his chest, refusing thoughts of Chester as he finally fell asleep, completely and utterly exhausted.
**********
Chester sat on the end of the bed in his room, trying to remember how long it had been since he had slept in a hotel room alone. It didn't matter, he had a feeling he'd be sleeping alone for the rest of the tour. His stomach hurt. The confrontation with Mike, the conversation with Talinda, the stress of the past twenty-four hours felt like too much. He stood up and walked to his suitcase, taking out sleeping pills, considering the small bottle in his hand. It had been a long time since he'd needed one. He glanced at the mini bar in the room, wondering why they always stayed in places with minibars when he was a fucking alcoholic. It didn't matter when he was with Mike. He didn't want to drink when they were together, but now they weren't together, so did it matter?
He twisted open the shot of rum and looked at it, telling it, "I told Talinda I wanted to be with you, Mike. And now look at what you've done." The rum didn't talk back. Chester didn't expect it to, but he was disappointed anyway. He sighed, walked to the bathroom, and poured the bottle down the sink. "Drinking you won't solve anything. Drinking you won't make Mike come back. Drinking you won't change what I want or what I said to Talinda." Tossing the bottle in the trash, he went back to the room and sat down at the desk. Instead of drinking, he wrote lyrics. Mike had chosen Anna, but Chester wasn't going back to Talinda, not when he felt that there was a chance Mike would change his mind... no matter how long it took.