If Only You Were Mine. . .

This is the 4th part in a Stephen and Eloy fanfic I wrote about a year ago (2000) about the beginning of the relationship. As I, and nobody else, knows the 'real' truth about how they first got together, I thought you might like to read this completely fictional piece of work which I would like to think is how they got together. In some instances, real events are portrayed.

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Stephen yawned loudly as he carefully rose from his sleep. Looking at his watch, he saw the time was 5pm. 'The lads should be back soon,' he thought to himself. As if on cue, he heard Ronan's loud voice booming down the corridor.

"Steve? Steve?" Ronan called, bursting through Stephen's door just seconds later.

"Don't knock then!" Steve said sarcastically. "I could have been indecent!"

"Ah, don't be silly Steo! We've known each other long enough not to have any qualms about being indecent in front of each other!"

Stephen smiled. What Ronan said WAS true- they were all very comfortable in getting changed in front of each other. Even he was! Normally Stephen hates stripping off in front of other people, but he's never been like that with the lads. 'Although I wasn't shy when I was with Eloy' he thought.

"Have a nice time?" Stephen casually asked. Ronan began to tell Stephen about their day go-karting, before Stephen interrupted him.

"I'm really not interested, Ro."

"Well YOU asked!" Ronan exclaimed, before glancing at Stephen with a look of worry on his brow. "You sure you're okay Steve? You've been acting funny ever since you came back from being with Eloy. . ." Ronan's voice trailed off. "Has something happened Steve?" he asked, with a voice of authority. A lone tear trailed down Stephen's face. Ronan watched as it rolled down his chin. He caught it on his finger, before wiping it on his designer jeans. It was clear to Ronan that there was something wrong, but Stephen obviously was reluctant to discuss it with him, and Ronan certainly wasn't going to force him into telling him what the matter was. Changing the subject, he asked Stephen what he had been doing whilst everyone had been out.

"Oh, I've just been writing a new song. I thought I may use it for my own solo stuff, or maybe a Boyzone album. Other than that, I've been asleep since this morning." Looking at Ronan, Stephen smiled, trying to hide the pain he was feeling inside. Ronan sighed. This was just like Stephen- the constant professonal! Ever since the band had found out the truth about his sexuality, they had always been very protective of him, determined not to let the secret come out. It hurt Ronan to see Stephen living in such a hidden world. It's ironic to think that Stephen is known as the cute, happy, smiley one in Boyzone. The truth is, however, very different. Stephen isn't happy. 'He's probably one of the unhappiest individuals I know' Ronan thought to himself. The fans were blissfully unaware of Stephen's heartache though. He was always very professional and always had a smile for the fans. But, away from the public, he could very rarely raise a smile. It hurt the rest of Boyzone to see Stephen go on stage as happy as larry, and then come off all withdrawn and sad again.

"Can I see it?" Ronan asked.

"What? The song? Oh, I don't know, it's not really very good. . ." Stephen said coyly. Sighing, he reached into his suitcase and pulled out the piece of paper, handing it to Ronan. Ronan began reading it.

"It helps to write all your feelings onto paper and turn it into a song," Stephen explained, knowing that Ronan would agree with him. After all, writing down his emotions and feelings has certainly helped Ronan cope with the loss of his mother. Stephen glanced at Ronan, anxious to know what he thought of the song. Ronan looked up, his eyes gleaming.

"This is brilliant Steve! But it's far too personal a song to be put on a Boyzone album- you keep it for yourself."

Taking back the piece of paper, Stephen looked at the lyrics, wondering if it was a mistake sharing them with Ronan. After all, it seemed pretty obvious what the song is about, and Ronan had already acknowledged that it was a personal song. . . Stephen wondered if Ronan had guessed what had happened between him and Eloy.

"I don't really know if I want to bring out a solo album yet," Stephen said quietly.

"Well, you need to bring that song out somehow! It's too good to go to waste!" Ronan then cautiously said, "What about giving it to another band? Say. . . Westside?"

Stephen groaned. Since becoming involved with Louis Walsh's new "project", Westside, a few months ago, that's all he talked about. Stephen knew the band were going to be huge, but he ofen felt as if Louis was trying to replace Boyzone with this new band. He didn't know whether he liked the idea of Westside singing a song he had written about Eloy.

"Oh I don't know. . ." By now, Ronan was getting very excited about the idea.

"Ah, come on Steve. It would be great! It's silly letting it go to waste."

"Well, I haven't even been into the studio and gone over it with Ray yet. I don't even know if I want to make it into a proper song!" Stephen smiled wryly at Ronan.

"Well, once you've made a demo, just give me a shout and I'll get Bry' and the rest of the lads to have a listen to it!" Stephen grinned at Ronan's obvious enthusiasm. 'Mr Industry' Stephen thought to himself. Well, it was true- Ronan loved the industry! Not content with being in a boy band, he also wanted a solo career, has done lots of TV presenting, was now a pop manager and no doubt wanted world domination! Stephen giggled at the thought.

"What? What's so funny?" Ronan demanded. Stephen giggled again. Ronan's face broke into a smile and he said, "You know what, Steve? I haven't seen you smile like that in ages." Giving his friend a massive bear hug, he explained that he was going off to see where Yvonne had got to. Closing the door, he left Stephen alone again.

Looking at Where Do We Go, a thought suddenly entered Stephen's head. He wrote out the lyrics again on a different piece of paper, this time adding his name at the bottom of it. Grabbing an envelope from the table, he placed the new piece of paper inside and sealed it. He wrote an address on the front, before stopping and staring at the envelope before him. 'Silly me,' he thought. 'I forgot to put the name!' Picking up a pen, he wrote ELOY DE JONG above the address, before leaving his room to go and post it. . .

* * *

Eloy woke up to the smell of his mother's cooking coming from the kitchen. "Mmmmmm. . . " He breathed in the smell. "Pancakes with ham! My favourite!" he exclaimed. He loved his mother's cooking. When he'd had an operation on his leg just 2 years previously, his mother had nursed him back to full health with her wonderful cooking. Eloy sighed. He was very close to his mother. Since his father had died, he'd been a tower of strength to her. Lenie didn't know how she would have coped had it not been for her 2 children Eloy and Lucienne.

Eloy wondered into the kitchen of his mother's house, greeting her with a kiss. "Morning mum!" he said cheerfully in Dutch. Lenie smiled at her son, as she served breakfast. Speaking in Dutch, she asked Eloy if he was going to be house hunting today. Eloy had been looking for a house for a few weeks now and was living at his mother's house until he found one. Eloy nodded, explaining that Lucienne and her boyfriend Andries were going to be accompanying him.

Eloy and Lenie ate breakfast in silence for a while, until his mother pointed out that a letter had arrived for him. Looking at it with a certain amount of suspicion, Eloy fingered it, wondering what it could be. He recognised the handwriting, but couldn't think who it was. Turning the letter over, he realised there was no return address.

"No return address?" his mother inquired. Eloy shook his head. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

"I will in a minute, mum," Eloy assured her.

Laughing, Lenie said, "It's okay darling. I know you don't want your old mum to see what's in it!"

Eloy laughed as he finished his pancakes. Kissing his mum once more, he returned to his bedroom. Getting dressed, he cautiously stared at the suspicious-looking envelope he now had in his possession. Unable to stand the suspense anymore, he ripped the envelope open. A single piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Eloy picked up, gasping when he saw who it was from. At the end of the paper was a single name: STEPHEN. Eloy began to read, quickly realising it was a song of some sort. He read the lyrics carefully, one by one.

I ask when will I see you again

Eloy sighed. 'Popcorn Live' he thought. 'But, Stephen, you don't realise how much I miss you.' His eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

Once was all that we had

'And it was great, it really was.' Eloy closed his eyes for a moment, picturing Stephen's face. 'Beautiful,' he thought. 'Absolutely beautiful.'

And your touch I've forgotten

Closing his eyes again, Eloy clearly visualised Stephen's touch. It sent shivers down his spine.

How good it was

"It WAS good," Eloy said to himself. "So good," he mumbled to himself.

Questionmark trade of thoughts

That's all he had been doing since their night of passion- thinking!

Turning around in my mind

He had been unable to get Stephen out of his head since that night and it was driving him crazy! He was confused. He didn't know his feelings for Stephen anymore.

Can't let go

'I've been trying to let you go, Stephen, but it just isn't working,' Eloy thought, wistfully.

Visions of you baby

Just when Eloy thought he could forget about Stephen, another vision of him would pop into his head and the confusion would start all over again!

Is all that I know

'It's not fair,' Eloy thought. 'Why do relationships have to be so damn complicated?'

Where do we go from here

"I don't know," Eloy said to himself. "It's something we're going to have to work out, baby." Eloy stopped suddenly, embarrassed at himself for referring to Stephen as baby. He tried to block all such thoughts out of his mind as he continued to read.

How do we find our way to go on

Whispering, Eloy said, "We need to talk about this. I don't want to lose his friendship."

Promise you'll stay by my side

Eloy sighed. That's something he can't promise! He doesn't even know whether their friendship can survive this!

Don't walk away from me now

Eloy paused after reading this line, a numb feeling in his stomach. The line was almost a plea, as if Stephen was pleading with him not to leave; as if he depended on him. It was then that Eloy realised how much he meant to Stephen.

Where do we go

Eloy felt tears rolling down his cheeks. Sniffling, he wiped them away, gritting his teeth and willing them not to come again.

I ask myself where are you now

'Confused,' Eloy thought wryly.

Are you alone in the night

Looking around, Eloy's thoughts turned to last night. He felt alone and confused. He had imagined that Stephen was with him. In fact, he could almost feel Stephen's arms around him. But not quite.

Do you feel the same way

Sighing, Eloy knew that he just didn't know what his feelings were.

I'm feeling for you

After reading the next line, he suddenly realised: Stephen really had fallen in love with him. Eloy cared and respected Stephen far too much to allow him to get hurt. Looking at the next line

'Cause baby I need to know

he knew that he couldn't contact Stephen at this time. Not yet, anyway. Not until he at least worked out where he was heading with all this.

Constantly sleepless

'Boy, I know that feeling!' Eloy thought.

Alone in my bed

Eloy began to sob gently, unable to stop the tears that flowed freely down his face. He finished reading the lyrics, through the tears which threatened to blur his vision.

Visions of you babe

Is all that I have

Where do we go from here

How do we find our way to go on

Promise you'll stay by my side

Don't walk away from me now

Where do we go

Still crying, Eloy scrunched up the piece of paper and climbed into bed, still fully clothed. Clutching the paper to his chest, Eloy slowly began to drift to sleep, dreaming of Stephen. Lenie found him an hour later, still asleep, and with his hand still clutching the piece of paper up to his chest. . .

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