Page 60 of All That Remains
I wasn't fond of beer, but this was decent. A Belgian lager. Light, summery. I curiously swished it around my mouth.
"Since when do you drink beer?" I asked, still nervous to meet his eyes.
"A few of the crew got me into it a while ago. On the road. I just sort of acquired the taste, y'know?"
"I remember you hated drinking."
"Still do, if I'm honest," he shrugged, lifting the bottle for another sip. "I'm what they call a‘social drinkah.’Sometimes an‘emotional drinkah.’” We laughed.
I had become the total opposite of a social drinker of late. I got blacked out sometimes, and he was the last person on earth I could fool by pretending otherwise. He’d fielded so many late-night drunk calls from me throughout the band, it unnerved me to think he remembered.
He removed his button down, revealing a black, fitted tee beneath. Fuck’s sake, he was good-looking. Rather James Dean. The flesh of his arms called to me. I wanted to brush its softness with the back of my knuckles, then allow my fingertips to roam unchecked.
He mentioned how his mum had reacted during her first visit to LA. He’d taken her out to experience a bit of nightlife, but they were chased by drunken paps. Suffice it to say, she wanted him back home and away from the seedy influences of‘thatgodless city’.
I teased him about buying the only house in California without a pool, since he still didn't know how to swim. He assured me he had every intention of adding one eventually. I drifted again while he talked, savoring the throaty inflections of his strange voice. Chewing the inside of my cheeks with an unhinged hunger.
"Rome..." I began, but had no clue where I was going. Didn't matter. He could read my mind. He watched me falter, eyes searing. Neither of us were prepared to acknowledge all we were eluding. It loomed between us like an entity, urging us to address its presence. The new dynamic was respectable, but untenable. I wanted the old way to return. The times we touched without compunction and he stared at me with open lust.
***
After messing around in the yard with a frightening crossbow I found in the foyer, watching him obliterate a rubber dummy with lethal precision, we headed back inside. He said he used it to alleviate stress, and I didn’t question it. I was still too nervous to let him near enough to teach me how to shoot it.
Four beers down and we were laughing hysterically, dredging up ancient memories and discussing the other boys. Nathan was a safe topic for him. Levi too, seeing as how he'd chatted with him a bit after the drama settled. They'd made plans to collab in the future.
"We'd sound alright together, I suppose. Similar tastes and whatnot. He's got some wicked riffs too. Always had."
"Yeah," I uttered. “I can hear ‘em now.”
He took his lead finger and ran it along an eyebrow, a nervous tic. Apparently Alex was a sore subject for him, so we avoided it. Later we got onto the subject of my whereabouts in 2016, since he’d already detailed his. Eventually I told him about Manager John and new mate Ezra, and he told me he was glad I’d linked up with such a prestigious firm for my solo work.
“I’ve heard great things about them.”
“Yeah. I’m really lucky.”
"So, uh...thisEzrabloke,” he began, carefully. Then threw all caution to the wind. “Ever sleep with him?"
My stomach knotted. He’d mounted a devastating attack. One I’d been ill-prepared to counter. The ludicrous question was a direct drawback to the old us—the hedonists who once spared no detail in sharing our sexcapades.
"Come again?"
"That one guy. Who's it? Ezra or somethin? You were all over the place with him when I left."
“Mate, look…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He was fighting a look of derision. I stifled a laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing...nothing. Why're you even asking about him?"
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fuck if I know. I was just wonderin'."
"But why? What’s it to you?"
"Because I wanna fuckin’ know, Rafe? Isn't that enough?" His eyes had become murky slits. Barely any blue remained. "Because you were with him every day last year. Somethin' must've been goin' on, right? That’s a fair assumption."
"Is it? So, just because we spent time together in public—while we were finishing the tour, by the way—thatmeans I'm fuckinghim? Do you even hear yourself?" After voicing his accusation aloud, I realized how unfair it was to me. "Justbecause I'm around somebody, I'm fair game? Is that really what you think of me, Rome?"
