just_muse_me | 5.2.3. Time heals?

[strips4u]

5.2.3. Time heals, yes or no?

Flynn watched the heavy rain pouring down on New York from Remy’s Upper East Side apartment balcony. He was halfway through a cigarette and halfway through a phone call he wanted to just hang up on. “It’s not happening, Melody. I can only do three days from now until whenever I say again. It’s not negotiable,” he repeated what felt like the twentieth time since his cell started ringing.

“I have angry clients calling me hourly demanding your services; demanding their ‘usual’ appointment, Hunter. Calls from people who have had your services highly recommended to them with apparent assurances you could give them appointments,” Melody said in frustration. “You can’t just go and cut four days from your appointment book with no notice!”

Flynn tapped his cigarette on the side of the ashtray and wet his lips. “I can and did,” he returned. “You know whoever is saying that is bullshitting you. I don’t promise anything until the appointment is in the schedule in black and white. I don’t do anyone any unpaid favours. The regulars are going to just have to deal. I’m busy.”

“Busy with what?” Melody huffed and Flynn could hear her impatiently clicking her pen on the other end of the line. “You’ve been awfully cryptic about the whole thing.”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you or the agency. I’m paying you to manage me, not the other way around. If I say I only have three days, I only have three days. Until you’re my pimp, get the fuck off my back,” Flynn snapped and this time, did end the call. He dropped the phone onto the glass table and went back to his smoke.


His words said one thing, but his mind felt like it was on about three different tracks at once. He hadn’t hesitated in cutting his schedule so he could be here most days to help Remy in his recovery, and helping Remy with everything he needed wasn’t even a bother. It was the fact that since his remission, Flynn hadn’t stopped. Sure, he took days off and had the occasional holiday, but with his work, since the day he’d started, he’d always kept a tight schedule. It was how he got the reputation he did and how his ‘services’ were kept well in demand. It’s how he ended up with only the highest class of professional clients, discretion always something Flynn could offer them without fail, his best clients often being married career women.

It’s also how he could know deep down he was alive. It wasn’t something he spoke about a lot, not even to Maddy. Though between them, it wasn’t a secret. When the cancer came up in conversation, he didn’t avoid it, but he also didn’t go out of his way to speak about it. He’d rather not keep dwelling on it. But the fear that if he stopped, it would catch up to him never really went away. They say time heals, but in Flynn’s opinion, time just fades things… it never truly heals them. He had a sense that he not cheated death, but escaped it, then what if it caught him again when he least expected it? Remission couldn’t be - and never would be – assured to be permanent. His doctor made it clear that there was always a risk the leukaemia could return and the next time he might not be so lucky. It was always something that was at the back of Flynn’s mind; it’s what had him never miss a doctor’s appointment and what saw him at check ups every month without fail. But when he went into remission, he swore he would live life hard and fast so he could be make the most of the time he had. Too many people too life for granted… Flynn didn’t ever want to be one of them again.

He liked his work and he liked meeting the array of people he did. He liked sex. He earned money from sex and he earned a lot. But it wasn’t the money, it was the fact he could do it. Sure, he pushed himself too far some times and paid for it, usually by feeling shit for a few days, but he never had a yearning to slow down. Not while he could still do it all.

Until now, that is. Now he had a completely different reason to slow down. Remy’s injury meant that he needed as much help as humanly possible right now and Flynn was in a position to offer that, at a sacrifice to his own comfort zone. Remy was physically and emotionally exhausted, meaning he slept for many hours in the day while his body tried to heal, leaving Flynn on a go-slow when Maddy wasn’t home. It was giving him time to dwell and become ansty. He was relieved during the times Remy was awake and receptive to company because it stopped Flynn feeling like he was sitting and waiting for something… anything.

He thought he’d mostly put this sort of thing behind him but experiencing sitting vigil at Remy’s hospital bed had brought more back to Flynn than he cared to admit, and he was scared. He didn’t want to face a relapse. If he did, he doubted he’d have the strength to survive it. His job had always given him a tool to not feel like an ex sick person. At the end of the day, no one ever truly escaped cancer. No one ever truly healed from it. The fear it would come back always remained somewhere lingering in the back of his mind. He just much preferred it when he had things to block the memories because it was too easy to dwell on the past, and too hard to always be positive about the future when the finger of threatened relapse was always tickling you under the surface.


Madison James [canmakeufeel] & Remy LeBeau [dontdotricks] referenced with permission


Word Count | 987