Date: Thu, 6 Sep 2001 13:43:14 +0100 (BST)
From: Ethan <irishfireuk@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: The Broken Hearted 2

The Broken Hearted

This story is purley fictional, i am not implying that any of the
people mentioned within are gay or that any of the situations are
real. I have no connections with Westlife or Ronan Keating.

Two

Ronan crept out of bed, careful not to wake Shane. He struggled into
his pants before sitting in the armchair opposite the bed. He watched
as Shane slept, his lips were silent, his mind in chaos. Shane looked
beautiful, sleeping like a baby, his mouth was slightly open or was
it curled up in the slightest of smiles?

Ronan pondered long and hard, he thought of the effects of what is to
come. He thought of how he would probably never get to be so close to
Shane again, how he would never feel Shane's tender touch on his skin
ever again.

"Hey" Shane's whispered softly, it was enough to bring Ronan crashing
down to the here and now.

"Hey" Ronan replied, he managed to edge a serious tone in his voice.

Shane sat up, alert. "What's the matter?" he asked, sensing the bad
vibes.

"Umm... I don't think there is an easy way to say this Shane, maybe
it's best if I just come out with it" Ronan was trying furiously to
conjure up the courage to tell Shane without letting his feelings
betray him.

"Say what?" Shane asked, his heart had gone on a beating frenzy "just
tell me please, Ronan"

Ronan stood up and walked towards the window, staring blankly out of
it. "Who are we kidding, Shane?" he asked "tell me, do u really think
this will work?"

Shane's mind began spinning, he knew where this was headed. "Don't
you love me anymore?" he asked, because he had no idea what else to
say.

Ronan heard the question. He heard the tone that Shane had used. He
closed his eyes, a single tear trickled down his cheek and onto his
lower lip. "I have never actually loved you, Shane" he said, as
coldly as he could.

Shane fought back his tears, he stood up, his knees felt weak but he
walked over to where Ronan was standing. "Why are you doing this?" he
asked resting his hand on Ronan's shoulder.

Ronan whimpered softly as he felt Shane squeeze his shoulder. "Doing
what?" he asked, fighting his emotions. "We have had some good sex,
but that's it now, I'm bored" he hated himself the moment those words
escaped his lips.

Shane took a few steps back, he lost control, his eyes began pouring
"just sex" he whispered,  those two words spinning around inside his
head. "just sex" he repeated.

Ronan closed his eyes, cursing himself silently. He heard the door
slam, he didn't turn around. A few seconds later he saw Shane down on
the street trying to cross the busy street. He was walking aimlessly
into the middle of the road, barely concentrating on the oncoming
vehicles. Ronan watched in pain as three cars swirled around to avoid
hitting Shane, their horns blaring menacingly, but Shane remained
oblivious to them.

Ronan let out a loud sob, his smacked his fists against the wall,
furiously trying to hurt himself. But he was already hurting, he was
hurting inside.

Later that Night...

Ronan let the phone ring three times, before answering. He wiped his
eyes with the back of his hand and cleared his throat.

"Hello?" He said

"Hi, It's Kian, have u seen Shane today, at all?" The concerned tone
in Kian's voice and the mention of Shane made Ronan grip the receiver
tightly.

"Umm, no, I haven't seen him today, why?" he asked

"We'll he left here this afternoon and he isn't back yet, he's been
gone for nearly ten hours"

Ronan felt his eyes swell up with a fresh onslaught of tears, 'oh
god! what has he done?' he thought, fearing the worse

"I haven't seen him, let me know when you find him" he muttered,
replacing the receiver. He wanted to go out and look for Shane
himself, he wanted to find out if he was alright, he wanted to
comfort him and tell him how much he loved him. But he couldn't, so
he just sat there, through the night, eagerly awaiting the call.

Nicky and Kian headed in opposite directions. They had spent the last
hour calling everyone they could think of, no one had seen Shane.
Panic-stricken the pair were out roaming the dark streets of Dublin
at two o' clock in the morning.

Nicky searched frantically, in every bar he came across, there were
only a few of them open, the only places open at this time of the
night. But Shane was nowhere to be found. Hope soon mounted to
desperation and desperation mounted to fear, what had happened to
Shane, where was he?

Shane lay face down on the wet ground, he had tripped on his way
home, too drunk to muster up enough energy to pick himself up, he lay
there helplessly.

Nicky had just about given up, strolling his way back to where he
said he would meet Kian. Just as he turned he saw a figure laying
face down, he dismissed him as a 'hopeless drunk' before noticing the
jacket. It was Shane's jacket! Nicky was certain

Comments/Criticism welcome ... irishfireuk@yahoo.co.uk More stories @
www.irishfire.cjb.net