Page 39 of Tumbling Hearts

“Woah, no need to get so defensive.” Santi throws his hands up, still holding his fork in one. “I was just making an observation. Okay, yeah, maybe you never cheated on Carol. But I still think something strange is going on in your mind, y’know? You and Carol have been together for almost a year, and you’ve been distant, instead of, I don’t know, getting closer…?”

Santi is right on the money, and Ray hates that fact. But he can’t bare his heart out to them and say the reason why he’s been acting this way. Especially when he shouldn’t be feeling like this to begin with. He shouldn’t be yearning for his best friend—a man.

It’s gotten so bad to the point where he literally cheated on his girlfriend to be with Gene. How would she feel if she knew the truth? She’d despise him. He’s been horrible to her, an absolutely selfish piece of shit, completely disregarding her feelings to chase after someone he can never have. What’s the fucking point?

Maybe he can’t let her know the truth, but he can do better. He still likes Carol; she never deserved to be treated poorly. Gene is with Toshiko now, so maybe this distance between them is a good thing. Ray can repair his relationship with Carol, and hopefully forget any romantic inclinations he had for Gene in the first place.

If he’s with Carol, he can control the situation. He needs that control. Chasing after Gene is a whirlwind—an uncontrollable force that whips him around, tugging at his heart.

“I guess… maybe I’ve just been in a weird state of mind,” Ray says with a shrug. “I miss being on tour and playing shows. Maybe this break from it all has been messing with me. I’ve been liking playing music with you guys and being in the studio, but I don’t really do anything musical with Carol. And music is where my mind’s been at.”

That’s the best explanation he can give while still being mostly honest.

“I get that.” Santi nods, finishing the last bite of his food. “And you do write songs with Gene. You don’t write with Carol, or any of us, either.”

“I still feel like you’re not telling the whole story, though,” Pat says. “When you went on that vacation with Gene, that wasn’t too long after we’d done that TV appearance on the Mike Douglas Show. So that was before this big, relaxing break we’ve been having. It makes me wonder—are you really not feeling it with Carol?”

“N-no, it’s not that. I like her,” Ray stammers, finishing off his own food as well. “Maybe I’m just bad at relationships? I don’t know. The only other girlfriend I’ve ever had was Harriet, y’know. So there’s my… ‘experience’, if you can call it that.”

Pat shrugs, and takes a bite. “I guess so. Though you would think—it’d be common courtesy that if you’re in a relationship with someone, you’d want to spend a holiday together⁠—”

“I get it, I get it!” Ray sets his fork down again, waving both his hands in front of his face, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t really wanna talk about this anymore, okay? I understand. I suck, and I should do better.”

I suck, alright. Suck Gene’s cock⁠—

“Sorry, it’s fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” Pat sighs, pushing her bowl into the middle of the table. “But I won’t hesitate to bring it up again if it starts getting in the way of the band.”

“That’s fair.” Ray lets out a sigh of his own. “I still appreciate you guys talking to me about it, though. Gives me a lot to think about.”

“Anytime, Ray,” Santi says, giving him a smile. “Maybe we should change the subject if it’s bothering you then, hmm? I suppose… I’m excited about how we’re gonna tour again next month.”

“For sure.” Ray smiles back. “Album’s nearly done, won’t be long now.”

“I know I’m ready to hit the road again,” Pat says. “It’ll be fun.”

Santiago looks up toward the ceiling, a hint of longing in his eyes. “Maybe I’ll even find a special girl of my own while we’re traveling.”

“I think you definitely could,” Ray says.

They continue on like that, chatting about music and the like, making Ray even more excited about what’s to come. He’s eager to tour again, to sing their songs, to play with the band who means the world to him.

He can’t wait for Gene to return.

Being on the roof of the Hyatt House in LA feels nostalgic, even if he was only here a few months ago. Only last time, Gene was here with the Dusty Brooms. Now, he’s here with his girlfriend. Girlfriend. Calling her that still sounds strange to him.

He’s sitting in a lounge chair on a night just like the night he met her—moon in the sky, glistening over the water in the pool in front of him, potted palm trees scattered everywhere between the chairs and along the fencing. There’s always so many people up here, but it makes sense. This is California. Any one of these people could be a rockstar, a movie star, a model, or a celebrity. However, the only people he actually knows are Toshiko, her manager Yasuhiro, and a man that Gene had met the first day he got here. That man is Toshiko’s American publicist, working alongside Yasuhiro to get her name out and about in this country. His name is Pete… Thomas? Thompson? Townshend? No, it can’t be Townshend. That’s the guy from the Who. Must be one of the others. Either way, he’s sitting with them all up here on the roof, and thankfully has been Gene’s main source of weed and, for the first time, acid.

On one of the days earlier on this trip, Gene had called his parents. He’d thought about calling Ray and the Brooms instead, but figured maybe he’d wait a little longer, that way Ray would have more info to update him with concerning the album and tour. Even if Gene plans to visit Japan after he’s done here in Cali, it should still all work within their schedule as long as he doesn’t stay there longer than a week.

When Gene called his parents’ house, his mother picked up, as usual. His father rarely ever picks up, seeing as most of the time he’s either at work, at some sort of meeting, or simply too tired to talk over the phone. Gene told his mother where he was, and how he finally, after all these years, has a girlfriend.

“And she’s Japanese too?” his mother said over the phone. “Can you even understand each other?”

“Yes, very easily. She’s fluent in English, so there’s no problem talking,” Gene said, sitting on the bed in his hotel room. Toshiko was elsewhere with Yasuhiro that day, taking more publicity photos. “But I think it’d be cool if I could learn Japanese, myself.”

“Why of course! I mean, if you two stick together…” She gasped. “Oh my goodness, my grandchildren would be half-Japanese! They’d certainly want to know how to speak the native language of their mother, and then you as well⁠—”

“Mom! Please!” Gene laughed. “I just started dating her earlier this month, and here you are already talking about grandchildren?”