We Meet Again

A/N and Disclaimer: Fiction. Not real. I don’t own Savage Garden, or any previous member of Savage Garden. Now I’m not familiar with Australia, so the setting may not work, but it’s the one I chose.

We Meet Again – pt 4

-- The next day --

“Ready to go, Daniel?”

Dan rubbed his hands on his jeans and licked his lips. “Are you sure I’m dressed okay?”

Darren looked at Dan. Black t-shirt, of which he was sure he owned at least a dozen, and hip hugging jeans. ‘Don’t look there. Don’t. Not right now. It’s too soon for that.’

“You look fine, Danny. Doctor Willoughby said to dress however you’re most comfortable. He works out of his home for the first few visits.”

Daniel took a deep breath, and exhaled through his nose. He nodded to Darren, his lips pursed.

Darren rubbed his arm soothingly. “We don’t have to go. It won’t work if you don’t want it.”

“I’m scared, Darren.” Daniel whispered.

“I know, Danny. I’ll be right beside you. The whole way.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. I promise.”


Fourty-five quiet minutes later, Darren turned his car up a winding drive that led back from the road. Trees and shrubs followed a split-rail fence around the perimeter of the property; effectively shielding the well manicured lawn from the road. A two-story, ranch style log house waited at the end of the drive.

They sat quietly for a minute. Darren squeezed Daniel’s hand, hoping to reassure him. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You’ll be fine.”

They got out and walked up to the front door. Darren rang the bell, Daniel stood beside him.

When the door finally opened, a young man about Daniel’s height stood before them. His warm smile fought for dominance with the equally warm smile in his brown eyes.

“Mr. Hayes and Mr. Jones?”

“I’m Darren Hayes.” Darren shook his hand.

Darren glanced at Daniel, gave him a little smile of assurance.

“D-Daniel Jones,” he stuttered, and shook the young man’s hand hesitantly.

“I’m Ryan Bledsoe. Come on in. Paul – uh, that is, Dr. Willoughby will be down in a minute.”

He showed them to a warmly apointed living room, decorated in browns, yellows and greens. An overstuffed couch rested under a picture window, a loveseat across from the fireplace, and two oversized easy chairs were across the room from the couch. A brown and gold shag carpet covered the floor.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Darren looked at Ryan, who still smiled hugely, noticed his slightly flushed cheeks, then felt the heat on his own face.

‘Shit. I wish we’d been late.’

“Darren? Are you okay?”

Darren realized Daniel was looking at him curiously, and then he noticed the sparkle in Ryan’s eyes.

“Ice water, please.” He managed to choke out, and winced at the unintended emphasis.

“And you, Mr. Jones?”

“Water’s fine, thank you.”

Ryan turned and left. Daniel put his hand on Darren’s knee. “Darren – what?”

He had to take a deep breath to calm himself. “If you don’t mind, Danny, I’d really rather talk about it later.”

Ryan returned with their water then.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll just go see if I can hurry Paul along.”

He turned and went up the stairs behind him. They both noticed then that he had no shoes on. This time Daniel blushed too.

“Darren, did… do… um…”

Darren nodded. “I think JaJay forgot to mention something. I mean… not that it really matters, but – ”

They had hidden their own relationship from everyone. Part of the stress Daniel had been under. They both had been under. Now they sat in the house of an openly gay doctor, had quite probably interrupted something, well, not something, but…

They were still blushing when Ryan came back down, wearing boots. Followed by, they presumed, Doctor Willoughby.

He was the same height as Ryan, with short black hair. When he walked over with Ryan, they noticed his nose had been broken at some time. And he had bright hazel eyes.

He also had the decency to blush as Ryan introduced them.

“Well, I’ve got things to do out back.” Ryan excused himself. “It was nice meeting you Darren, Daniel.”

Darren saw the smile that played on Paul’s lips as he watched Ryan leave. Their eyes met when Paul turned back, and he blushed again.

“First, let me apologize. I didn’t intend to keep you waiting. I normally don’t get distracted on patient days, but –” he shrugged ruefully.

Darren nodded.

“So, call me Paul while you’re here. Dr. Jacoby called me yesterday. Gave me a little background. I specialize in treating adults with Social Anxiety Disorder. But specifically, adults with alternative lifestyles. Do you think you will be comfortable with that?”

Darren sat staring, jaw hanging slightly. Remembering where he was, he took a deep breath, closed his mouth, and looked at Daniel.

Daniel looked back at Darren, uncertainty clouding his green eyes. Then he shrugged. “I said I would listen.”

Paul smiled. “That’s a good way to start. May I call you Daniel, and… Darren?”

They nodded.

“Daniel, let me start by giving you a very basic understanding of social anxiety. It’s emotional distress brought about by a fear of being introduced to other people. Being teased or criticized. It can be brought about by being the center of attention, being watched while you’re doing something, encouters with strangers, or interpersonal relationships.”

Paul watched Daniel for a minute, then continued. “Your case is a bit unusual in that it came upon you relatively late in life, figuraltively speaking. Most people have it all their lives. Especially if they are as… affected by it as you seem to be.”

He glanced at Darren, before looking back to Daniel. “Of course I have no direct experience with being a superstar.” He smiled gently. “It must have been a great stress. I remember seeing you both performing in some clubs very early in your careers, when I was still a student. I know you enjoyed it then. You both radiated that joy. I swear I used to get high just listening.”

Once again, Darren found himself staring. Yet was was certain the doctor, Paul, was telling the truth. And he was. They had talked about it themselves when they started. How their happiness seemed to feed back between themselves and the audience, when the crowd was receptive. He looked at Daniel, who sat staring at his hands.

“Do you remember when performing, being a band, began to affect you so strongly?” Paul asked kindly.

“I… uh… I think it started when we… um… we uh… in the states…”

...tbc...