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Topher Lydon

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Everything posted by Topher Lydon

  1. Topher Lydon
    Marriage, love and relationships. Will boards a plane bound for England and a new career, while Andrew and Brody endeavour to find out why. Can Will explain how he ended up so lost?
  2. Topher Lydon
    Jonathan Harding was hauling a bale of hay across the yard, his boots squelching through the mud created by a sudden downpour. He looked up at the black sedan pulling into his driveway, and he drew up short, catching the distinctive government plates on the front fender. A military car. He watched as the British officer climbed out of the car, reaching back inside for his peaked cap that he set over his steel-grey hair, completely ignoring the rain that was failing steadily and soaking t
  3. Topher Lydon
    They won. It had taken Clovis putting a puck away in the eighth minute of the second overtime. Battered, bloodied, but undefeated. The Storm were gathered in Union Station after the game, ready to take the gold back home. It wasn't quite like winning the Stanley Cup, but for most of the members of the team, that was as close as they were ever going to get. They were champions, they had preserved the dynasty, and there was no doubt to any of them who had led them to that victory.
  4. Topher Lydon
    "I feel like a dork," Peter complained, as he stood with his arms outstretched in the middle of the tuxedo store, Will and Lisa standing off to one side giving their opinions of the selection the clerk brought out. "But it's a classic," Will said, coming forward to push Peter's arms down and set the tuxedo properly and adjusting the black bow tie. "Wow..." he murmured, realizing how incredible Peter looked in the tuxedo, his white-blond hair hanging perfectly straight framing his sapphir
  5. Topher Lydon
    Will walked out of his office, slipping a pair of sunglasses on, and loosening the tie he had bargained to wear. The weather of that mid-June day was below seasonal, and in a country that really had only two seasons there was little separating oppressive heat from frigid cold. So he savoured those few scant weeks where it felt like spring. He crossed to his Jeep, opening the door and stepping up and in, pausing a moment to look across at his office building; the night shift were going on du
  6. Topher Lydon
    "So..." West's mother said from the doorway to his bedroom. West was sitting in front of his computer, as usual labouring to get some studying done for his final exam. He looked up at her quizzically, "So?" "So..." his mother said, taking a glance to ensure her husband was nowhere in earshot, and West knew she was taking advantage of his absence to pry, "tell me about Peter." "Nothing to tell," West said, sitting upright in his chair and tapping away on his keyboard, slig
  7. Topher Lydon
    West barely slept that night, laying on his back staring up at the ceiling most of the night until the faint blue light just before the dawn poked through his blinds, and he gave up the futile attempt. Getting out of bed he pulled on a striped rugby shirt and a pair of worn jeans. Padding through to the kitchen he found his father already up and flipping through a newspaper. "You're up early," Jonathan Harding said, looking up from his paper. "Trouble sleeping?" West yawn
  8. Topher Lydon
    The auditorium was quiet save for the two of them talking. Matt sat perched on the edge of the stage, his feet dangling over the edge watching while Blake paced to and fro. The thin artist was agitated and trying to find the right way to say what he was trying to say. "... I just don't feel a connection, you know?" Blake was saying, swallowing and taking another circuit of the floor. "Uh-huh," Matt grinned. "Like, you don't listen to me," Blake continued, glancing up at M
  9. Topher Lydon
    West stood a moment on the doorstep of the house, the tuxedo feeling heavy on his shoulders, as he nervously tried to steady his resolve. This was it, his one and only date with Peter, and he was scared to death. Behind him the engine of the limousine purred; his father had managed to talk his friend who worked for a hotel into getting the ‘company car' for the evening and chauffeur his son around on his big night. And West glanced behind him at the headlights in the driveway, steadying
  10. Topher Lydon
    Will took a deep breath as he slipped his corduroy jacket on over the grey flannel shirt he was wearing, stopping a moment to add a scarf which he slipped under the rumpled jacket. Scooping up his keys he set off downstairs. There was the usual bustle in his kitchen, Lisa watching the news while preparing some breakfast. Will smiled to himself as he entered, making a beeline straight for the coffee pot. "It arrived," Lisa said, glancing past him towards where Peter was doing his
  11. Topher Lydon
    Tony skated lazily up the road alongside Joey; foot in front of foot, he was barely pushing off, gliding with a grace on the pavement he would have on ice. It was supposed to have been the night that West would have come out with them. Tony was disappointed; the fledgling relationship had died far too quickly, but that was life. And despite the fact that it was over, it didn't stop him from feeling angry over what had happened to West. "Who did it?" he repeated, dropping off the curb to
  12. Topher Lydon
    The good old hockey game is the best game you can name, and the best game you can name is the good ol' hockey game... West had been playing hockey since he was little. As a kid it had been his first, third and hundredth favourite thing in the world--bubble gum and wrestling had to factor in there somewhere... His best friends were either on his team or played hockey somewhere else. If he wasn't on the ice, he was playing street hockey at age eleven, stepping out of the way of car
  13. Topher Lydon
    The week had been unremarkable; West had returned to a very sombre school, the attack still fresh on everyone's minds. The looks of sympathy he got bugged him; he wasn't an invalid, he wasn't broken. It had been a fight, he'd bled, they'd bled and now it was over. Brad had been expelled, the other participants suspended. West wasn't sure what that would do for Brad's academic chances--getting suspended in the last few weeks of school--but rightly, he found he didn't care. The friendship
  14. Topher Lydon
    They were still standing too close together, Peter stealing kisses to hide the fact that he was blushing like a madman. He couldn't believe he was there, but every time he closed his eyes West would kiss him again to remind him it was real. West ran his tongue lightly over Peter's teeth, wriggling it between them eager to explore, as Peter relaxed and opened his mouth, letting him in. He stared into the warm grey eyes staring into his own, eyes filled with mirth and humour. "What
  15. Topher Lydon
    West yawned as he woke up, groggily staring about him, feeling his stiff muscles. How long had he been asleep? He glanced down at the ball-capped head sleeping curled up against him, his head resting on West's chest. On the other side of the couch, Sammy was sitting up watching Saturday morning cartoons. She looked over at him as he stirred, smiling before she turned back to the television where some princess was discovering her prince. West yawned and scratched his head, gently lifting
  16. Topher Lydon
    West laced up his skates, wrapping the tape around his socks to keep them in place, adjusting the padding he was wearing one final time. He was aware of his ribs burning angrily, reminding him that his suffering was only just beginning; it was going to be a very long game. He stood up, looking at his teammates; this was it, they were ready, and they had come through so much. They were an entire line short, their captain was injured, but they had still made it. The finals, and the other t
  17. Topher Lydon
    They had made it through most of the nurse stations and security. Will had simply tightened his tie and walked with a determined purpose, carefully instructing Peter to keep his head down and to not look at anyone. Experience had taught Will that in order to not be questioned, you had to look like you belonged. Walk with a determined stride, like you are on your way to get somewhere. Don't stop, don't look lost. Whenever a security guard or a nurse looked at him, he would offer them a ti
  18. Topher Lydon
    Will was resting on his bed, paperwork strewn about him, as he adjusted his glasses and kept working. It had to be about seven o'clock in the evening and he was taking the opportunity to get caught up on some of his other work. Maybe if he could get it all done that night, without the constant call centre interruptions, he might be able to relax a bit at work. He looked up at Sprog standing uncertainly in the doorway, looking worried. And Will set his pen aside and smiled up at the young
  19. Topher Lydon
    "He was lucky," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses as he stood in the small waiting room talking quietly with West's parents. "He has a fractured rib, and lost a lot of blood, but he's going to be all right." West's mother clung to her husband tightly, burying her face into his broad chest. She let out a loud sob of relief, as Jonathon Harding stroked her hair reassuringly, looking up at the doctor, "Thank you, Doctor." "No," the doctor shook his head, "you have a tough kid t
  20. Topher Lydon
    West opened his eyes, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, the fluorescent lights over his head. The smell of bleach and industrial cleaner tickled his nose as he lay there, feeling the coarse sheets, and that was when the pain returned. He ached, everywhere. He felt like he had gone ten rounds with a Mack truck and had lost; he couldn't even manage to lift his head, only continue to lay there, feeling the cool air of the air-conditioned hospital room blow over him gently as he mustered
  21. Topher Lydon
    Will sat in his office, the leading edge of a headache moving in as he stared at the endless charts and graphs plotting employee productivity, or rather the complete lack of it. The quiet din of the call centre was getting to him. He had a cup of coffee sitting on the edge of his desk that he knew would help, but it seemed everytime he reached for it someone would interrupt him; so far he had avoided trying to drink it for the past five minutes, and for those five minutes he had a little peace.
  22. Topher Lydon
    West was distracted that night; he barely noticed his supper as it came and went, seeming to walk around lost in his own thoughts, his eyes down, staring with fixed determination on nothing at all, his mind trying to process what he had done. He'd kissed Peter and he couldn't explain why. He had a boyfriend, Tony, who he liked and who liked him. But he had still done it, he'd gone from boy scout to player in no time flat and he hated himself for it. He couldn't explain his actions, he co
  23. Topher Lydon
    West was doing homework, sitting in his chair, with his feet up staring at the screen and tapping away on the keyboard balanced across his legs. Since all the university applications were in and acceptances had been given, the last few months were a mere formality. But from the volume of homework Greenwood was handing out, it seemed he was adamant about imparting some last minute wisdom for his students to take with them on the next step of their journeys, wherever life took them. The me
  24. Topher Lydon
    "Good morning, class." Mister Greenwood was unusually spry that morning, which meant one of two things--either he had a surprise test planned, or something far worse. West was seated where he normally sat, but Jenny-Lynn was avoiding him, sitting further up the back next to Brad. He gave her a glance, but she was pointedly ignoring him, as she had been doing for days. He sighed and turned back to pay attention to Greenwood who was still grinning like a maniac up at the front of the class
  25. Topher Lydon
    Practice was strained; game night was approaching and the team wouldn't pull together. Jensen's line changes were slow, dragging behind the rest of the team. West had expected something to happen. The fact was that most of the team was squarely behind him, fighting hard even at the practice to prove something, not just to him, but to themselves as well. Highmore inevitably skated across the ice blowing his whistle, and gesturing for the team to cluster around the bench. "Okay, wh
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