Zac
Days went by and still I didn’t hear from Jordan again. It was on my mind all the time, even when I should have been concentrating on rehearsing. I kept racking my brain, trying to figure out what I’ve said or done to anger Jordan, and I kept coming up empty. I knew he was unhappy with himself for revealing his feelings for me, but I thought I smoothed that over pretty well. But he was still ignoring me.
I thought maybe it was just a fluke, or some strange coincidence, when I signed online and he immediately signed off. But even when he came back, he didn’t talk to me. It wasn’t a fluke, though. He was ignoring me. After the third message I sent him went unanswered, I was sure of it.
Just when I thought I was figuring things out, even if only in my own mind, the one person who knew about my struggle abandoned me. I needed him. If he knew that, if he really understood that, how could he just leave me? Did he even mean what he had said? Maybe it was just a game to him after all.
“Zac, you’re late,” Taylor said, sighing frustratedly. “Again.”
“Oh, I am?” I replied. I had hardly even noticed. It was impossible to concentrate on playing when I could only think of Jordan. But I couldn’t very well tell Taylor that, could I?
“No, I was kidding,” Taylor huffed. “Of course! Pay attention, would you?”
“Fine, whatever,” I replied. I just want Taylor to shut up. If he kept talking, I didn’t know how long I would be able to listen before I started screaming about exactly why I was distracted.
“I don’t know what’s up with you lately, but you need to get it together.”
I twirled my drumsticks absent-mindedly, hoping to look casual. I didn’t know if I stood any chance of convincing him that nothing was wrong, but I had to try. “Nothing’s up with me.”
“Right,” he replied. “That’s why we’ve had to restart this song five times already.”
Isaac sighed. Great, I thought. Now he’s going to jump onto me, too. My patience with the two of them was wearing dangerously thin. When that happened, I was not a pleasant person to be around. We often joked about my short fuse, but the jokes held a great deal of truth. It took a lot for me to lash out physically, but it only took a small push to bring out the smartass remarks. I could feel one of those remarks threatening to come out, and I did nothing to stop it. “Did you consider the possibility that you’re actually early?”
“Considering that I started the same time Ike did? No,” Taylor replied. “And also the little fact that I wrote this part. So I think I would know.”
“Maybe Ike’s early, too,” I said, grasping at straws. I knew my argument didn’t hold water, but it was too easy to just keep arguing with Taylor. I knew exactly how to get under his skin and he knew exactly how to get under mine.
Taylor rubbed his temples, a sure sign that I was getting to him. “Jesus, Zac. Not today. Just get the damn part right.”
He walked back to his keyboard, his shoulders tense as he counted us in. Even though I knew it was possibly the worst thing I could do, I couldn’t stop myself from coming in just a few seconds early. Taylor and Isaac both stopped and turned to stare at me.
“Damn it, Zac,” Taylor said. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Making up for lost time?” I replied, grinning. It was just too easy to mess with him. I knew that as long as I could keep making jokes and being a pest, I could ignore all of the doubt and turmoil in my mind. Being a smartass was absolutely my best defense strategy.
“Oh, ha ha,” Taylor said, his face completely serious. “Let’s all drop what we’re doing to laugh at Zac’s joke. So very funny. I really don’t want to be here all day, Zac.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one,” I admitted. It was too close to the truth and I instantly regretted letting my guard down even that tiny bit. “It might go faster if you didn’t bitch about every goddamn thing I do.”
“Well, the sooner you get it right, the sooner we can leave,” he pointed out.
He was right and I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated when Taylor was right. But I couldn’t really argue with it. I growled. “I’m fucking trying, okay? Get off my back.”
“Really?” He asked. “If that’s you trying, I’d hate to see when you’re not.”
“Guys, come on,” Isaac cut in, trying to be the voice of reason. Usually, he was the difficult one who caused the majority our fights in the studio. But Taylor and I had a way of fighting that made everyone within a five mile radius duck and cover, even before the fists started flying.
“Ike, can you tell Taylor to pull the stick out of his ass? Please?”
“That’s right, shove your problems onto someone else. Like always. God, do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?”
“Well, right now, my problem is, in fact, you,” I pointed out. I didn’t know why Taylor was making this so personal. So I screwed up the timing on a song. If he would just drop it, then I could drop it, too. But as long as he kept pushing, I would keep pushing back. It was a never ending cycle with the two of us. “Are we even talking about the music anymore, or is it just pick on Zac day?”
“Oh boy, here we go,” Taylor replied. “Poor Zac. Everyone’s always on his case. Poor fucking baby.”
If he even had any clue… but no. He couldn’t have a clue. I couldn’t let him, or anyone else, know. I tensed up, trying to push aside my first emotional reaction to that, and growled, “Don’t you fucking dare call me a baby.”
“Or what? You’re acting like one.”
“And you’re acting like a fucking bitch,” I replied. It wasn’t one of my better comebacks, but it was easy to fall back onto comments like that with Taylor. The easiest way to get under his skin was to imply that he was a girl, especially when he was already being so overdramatic.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” he replied, hand on his hip in true Taylor form.
“Neither do I.”
“Can we please just finish the fucking song?”
“If you would shut up.”
“Oh my god, Zac,” he replied, turning swiftly back to his keyboard.
He began playing without warning, hammering at the keys as though they were what had offended him. I had no choice but to try to follow along, even though I was certain he was playing the song too fast this time. The pace was too fast for me, though, and it wasn’t long before I lost the rhythm entirely and a drumstick went flying out of my hand.
“That’s it. Fuck it,” I growled, throwing the other drumstick at the wall as well.
Taylor slammed his hands down on the keys. “What now?”
“I’m just fucking done,” I replied. My shoulders were shaking horribly, and I didn’t know whether I was going to punch something or cry. What I did know was that I needed to leave before either one of those things happened. “Whatever, finish the song without me.”
Taylor growled. “Zachary Walker Hanson. I swear to fucking god.”
I stood up. “What?”
“If you don’t sit your ass down,” he said, “and do the fucking part.”
Was that a threat? Taylor knew I didn’t take well to threats. Some stupid macho instinct in me took over whenever I was told what to do and what not to do, and I lost all rational control of myself. I stood my ground and asked, “You’ll what?”
Taylor didn’t reply. He turned away from me, growling and punching a wall. It was such a ridiculous, over the top reaction – the kind I would have expected from myself, not him. I was almost stunned, but not enough to keep from firing off my mouth again with yet another smartass comment. “You punch like a girl.”
Taylor
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so furious. My hand was throbbing, our wall had a lovely new hole, and Zac was standing there, with that self-righteous smirk. My fists were clenched white-knuckled at my sides as I stared him down, my entire body shaking.
“See? You can’t even tell me I’m wrong.” What little restraint I’d managed was torn away as I lashed out, my right fist connecting solidly with his jaw. He stumbled back, swearing loudly and grabbing his face.
“Did that feel like a fucking girl punch?” My voice held so much rage I barely recognized it, but Zac barely blinked.
“You really wanna know?” My eyes widened even further. How could he be such an unbelievable dick?
“At least I’m fucking doing something, instead of doing nothing,” I spat. “Because that’s what you do best, isn’t it? Roll over, like a fucking dog?”
“Don’t even start. You have no idea what I do or don’t do,” Zac shot back. I sneered, something my wife had told me coming to mind.
“Oh I’ve heard plenty about what you don’t do.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Zac’s high-and-mighty smirk finally fell into a scowl, as he began to shake, and I felt a sick pleasure.
“You know how close Kate and Nat are.” It was true; nothing was secret between those two, and both Zac and I knew it.
“You’re just talking shit now.” Zac tried to appear calm as he called my bluff, but I knew better.
“I think you know exactly what I mean.”
“No. No.” Zac growled, trying to intimidate me, but it wasn’t working this time.
“What’s the matter? Afraid the ‘chick’ of the band is still more of a man than you?”
“Just… don’t,” Zac warned, stepping up to me. “Fucking. Shut. Up,” he growled, puncuating each word with a shove. I shoved him back throwing another punch; he was about to retaliate, when Isaac ran over, pushing us apart.
“Stay out of this, Ike. It’s none of your business. Either of yours,” Zac growled.
“Yeah, well you made it our business when you turned the day into a Zac pity party.” My words were harsh, and I started to regret them, but the mood I was in wouldn’t let me calm down. I wiped at my lip, feeling blood, and the uncontrollable, if somewhat irrational, fire inside me burned hotter.
“Just stop fucking saying that,” Zac hissed, still a bit breathless.
“Poor Zaccy,” I went on, my tone mocking. “Poor baby. Let’s all weep for poor, poor Zac.” Inside, I was screaming at myself to stop, before things got out of hand, but I couldn’t. Something in me had snapped, and now everything in me wanted to lash out.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Zac growled again.
“Grow the fuck up,” I spat, shoving him again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ike shake his head and walk away.
“I’m fucking grown up,” Zac muttered; I felt some of the fight leave me finally, as I took a few deep breaths.
“Whatever. Some of us have work to do.” I shook my head, going over to my laptop and sitting down heavily. I felt suddenly exhausted, all the pain and soreness from our scuffle catching up with me, all at once. I watched Zac in my peripheral, walking away and pulling out his phone. I felt bad about getting out of control like that, but I wasn’t forgiving him. I logged online, and just when I thought my mood couldn’t get worse…
| peregrin2201: jordan… |
I sat there, chewing my lip. I’d been avoiding this, but it was getting harder and harder.
| peregrin2201: please talk to me |
My resolve was weakening; I missed him terribly, and right then I needed someone to talk to. Someone who cared, who would understand.
| peregrin2201: jordan… i miss you… |
My hand trembled, my cursor hovering over the button to reply… But no. Before I could talk myself out of it, I logged out, closing my laptop. Giving in now would only lead to worse heartache later on. This was for the best, for both of us. That’s what I tried to tell myself, over and over, as I bit back tears that stung and burned.
I got to my feet, half-screaming as I punched the wall again, harder than before. It just wasn’t fucking fair. Zac walked in, looking as forlorn as I felt, and guilt washed over me.
“Zac,” I started, my voice surprisingly weak.
“What now,” he said in a low growl, obviously still angry. I wiped my eyes tiredly, trying to hide the evidence of my near-breakdown.
“Nothing… just forget it. I can’t… I can’t do this right now.” I hung my head, feeling so unbelievably tired.
“Damn, I didn’t know I beat you up that bad,” Zac joked. I glared at him, but there was no heat behind it, and it quickly faded.
“Jesus, I was kidding.”
“Whatever,” I sighed, walking back to my keyboard and sitting down. I poked half-heartedly at the keys for a moment.
“Oh, you’re not talking now?” Why was Zac still trying to pick a fight? I just didn’t have the energy anymore.
“Zac… I can’t deal with this right now.” I couldn’t, not with any of it. Zac, Sam… it was too much. I wiped my eyes again, packing my things and starting to leave.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Zac spat. I froze in the doorway, but shook my head when Zac stayed silent, pushing the door open. I heard the sound of something being knocked over, or kicked, but I let the door close behind me without looking back.