Nightmares
When Zac finally mustered up the courage to drive back to the apartment, he was not surprised to find that Taylor was not there. It was dark and empty, which seeming fitting somehow.
Not knowing what else to do, Zac sat and watched boring reruns on tv for hours. He supposed a part of him wanted to wait up and see Taylor when he got home. He needed to see him. He didn’t know what he would say when he did, but it seemed necessary.
The exhaustion from another day of work caught up to him, though. When he startled awake, he had no clue how much time had passed, only that he was still on the couch and Taylor was still not home.
A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was nearly midnight. It was a Thursday. Not exactly the hottest night to go clubbing. Zac could only assume he was with the mystery guy from the mall. Knowing that Taylor was somewhere unknown with someone unknown had Zac’s mind racing. Anything could happen to him and Zac would have no way of knowing or doing anything about it.
Although a voice at the back of his head told him not to bother, he scrambled to find his phone and call Taylor’s number.
It rang… and rang… and rang.
Zac stayed on the line until Taylor’s voicemail picked up, then he quickly ended the call. He had no clue what to say anyway; anything he might have managed to say would have only highlighted how unfairly possessive he was being.
And it was unfair, wasn’t it? He was sure Taylor would be quick to say that it was.
Maybe Taylor was right. Maybe Zac had no right at all to be jealous of Taylor’s mystery man. Maybe Zac was to blame for all of this and he needed to just shut up and stop feeling sorry for himself. Fat chance of that happening, he thought—his talents for self-pity extended even further than his artistic abilities.
Since it didn’t appear that Taylor would be home any time soon, and Zac couldn’t see any way a conversation between them would go well when he was, Zac decided it was best to just go on to bed. He pulled himself from the couch and drug himself straight to his bedroom, not even bothering to take a shower first. He felt greasy and grimy, but it wasn’t like he had anyone to impress. He wasn’t scheduled to work until the next afternoon; there would be plenty of time to clean up before then.
He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, although it did nothing to untangle his thoughts. Instead of peaceful rest, his sleep was full of troubled dreams. In them, dark, shadowy figures continued to attempt to break in to the apartment. Just when Zac thought he had vanquished them all, more appeared, creeping in through every window, every vent, even cracks in the floor that had not previously existed.
The sound of the apartment door opening and shutting forced him awake, and for a moment, he struggled to beat back the urge to rush to the door. Zac hated it when nightmares were so vivid that they bled over into reality; his heart was still beating fast even though he knew it must have only been Taylor finally coming home.
He hadn’t had nightmares like that for years. Not since Taylor had been forced to leave. Back then, they were much the same, except then, Zac was chasing the shadows and they were always just out of reach.
Sure enough, he could hear Taylor’s familiar shuffling footsteps and his soft, low voice talking to—someone? Zac sat up and listened, finally realizing that Taylor must have been on the phone. His voice was too low to make out a single word, and deep down Zac knew that he shouldn’t have been listening anyway. His jealous was causing him to skirt far too close to too many lines, but at least he could still recognize that the lines existed.
He wasn’t sure that was a distinction that mattered, but it was all he had left.
A few minutes passed before Taylor ended his phone call. The sound of the bathroom toilet came next, then the sink. Zac wasn’t sure whether to be happy for thin walls or not. Finally, the sound of the guest room door closing. In the silence, it was as loud as a gunshot.
Zac rolled over to face the wall and pulled a pillow over his head, as though it were possible to drown out the silence that seemed to be screaming in the back of his mind. He was in a hell of his own making, and he could see no way out. He only hoped that when he fell back asleep, the dreams did not resume.
That little bit of respite was granted to him, at least. It wasn’t much, but it was a relief when the next thing he was aware of was the smell of coffee brewing.
That was a sure sign that Taylor was awake and probably hungover. Zac decided to take a shower first, in the hopes of at least being somewhat presentable before facing his brother. He hoped that the shower would give him time to decide what he wanted to say, but it did not.
When he finally walked into the kitchen, he said the stupidest, most obvious thing he could have said.
“Where were you last night?”
Taylor glanced up at Zac from behind his coffee cup, but did not speak. His face was a blank, unreadable mask.
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Zac mumbled, then walked to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. It was bitter, but Zac barely tasted it.
“Are you my boyfriend or my babysitter?” Taylor finally asked as Zac sat down directly across from him. “Because last time I checked, you weren’t either. So I’m not really sure why I need to tell you.”
Zac rolled his eyes. “I’m your brother. And I’m one of the only people you know here in Austin, aren’t I? Certainly one of the only ones genuinely concerned about you. So when you don’t come home after work and you stay out half the night… do you really expect me to just not be concerned at all?”
“I expect you to realize I’m an adult capable of making his own decisions that don’t always need to involve you.”
“What if something had happened, Taylor?” Zac asked, hating how his voice broke. He was so weak, so far gone, but Taylor hardly seemed to notice or care.
“Well, nothing did,” Taylor replied flatly. “I just genuinely don’t know what you expect from me here. What you want from me.”
“I don’t know either,” Zac replied, then hated himself for it. It wasn’t true at all; he knew what he wanted, but did not understand why he still found himself so conflicted over it.
“So then what am I supposed to do? Run every single decision and plan by you? Give you an itinerary? I’m sorry, Zac, but I lived several years just fine without you. I’m not about to start letting you keep tabs on me like that now.”
It was a low blow, and something in Taylor’s tone and face said that he knew it. Yet he did not attempt to take it back or soften the blow at all. And it was a blow—an almost physical one, that Zac could feel deep in the pit of his stomach.
“So,” Taylor said, standing up, a death grip on his coffee cup. “Is that all? Or do you have twenty more questions?”
There was only one more, but Zac found the strength to hold his tongue then. He could not and would not ask Taylor who the man was. Maybe it was no one and Zac had read the entire situation wrong. Maybe he didn’t actually want to know.
“Just one thing,” Zac finally said. “You do remember that Melissa’s graduation is tomorrow, right?”
“Of course I do,” Taylor replied, although the look on his face suggested that he had forgotten or at least had not thought about what it really meant.
“And do you plan on going?” Zac asked. Against his better judgment, he added, “With me?”
Taylor stared at him long and heard, and Zac did not know what he was looking for. He met Taylor’s eyes, hoping that his would somehow convey everything that he did not have the words for. Finally, Taylor gave a soft sigh and said, “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what Melissa wants,” Zac answered honestly. “I know I haven’t known her that long, but she’s been—she’s been so important to me this semester. Things could be so much worse if I hadn’t had her, if she hadn’t come along right when everything was happening. So, yeah. I want to do this for her. I want to be there for her. And I’m pretty sure she’ll kick both our asses if we don’t suck it up and be there together.”
Taylor gave a weak, abortive laugh. “Yeah, okay. You have a point about that. And despite any evidence to the contrary, I actually don’t think having my ass kicked by a chick would be very good for my reputation.”
“Somehow, I think it would be less surprising if it happened to me,” Zac replied. He didn’t know how they could go from potentially one of their worst fights to cracking weak jokes, but there they were.
“Maybe,” Taylor replied, a hint of a smirk dancing across his face before vanishing entirely, leaving the blank expression in its place again. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”
As Taylor walked out of the kitchen, Zac didn’t even bother to point out that taking his coffee cup to the bathroom with him was probably not the best idea.
Once he heard the shower come on, Zac went back to his bedroom in search of his phone. He pulled up Melissa’s name in his contacts and typed a text.
A moment later, before she had time to reply, he added:
Zac finished his cup of coffee while he waited for Melissa to answer. He was sure that she was busy; her entire over-sized family was coming into town for her graduation, and just finding places for all of them to sleep would probably take up all of her time.
When Taylor walked back into the room, Zac nearly jumped out of his skin. He was dressed casually—jeans and a normal looking t-shirt. But there was a thick coat of makeup on his face, which would disguise his hangover to anyone who hadn’t seen him beforehand. He even wore a little eyeliner and lip gloss, something Zac hadn’t seen him wear very often.
Zac wondered if the makeup was like armor in a way or a security blanket. Something that helped him to paint himself into the person he wanted to be, or at least the one he wanted to show the world that day. A mask he could wear when he needed something to hide behind and shield himself from the truth.
Put into that context, Zac could understand the appeal. At the same time, he wanted to provide that comfort for Taylor. He didn’t want to watch him pull away, further into himself, hiding who he really was. He wanted Taylor to be happy and comfortable, but it seemed that, right then, he was incapable of providing that for his brother.