Zac
Nearly two weeks passed, and Carrick seemed determined to stick to his promise to stay out of my way. In all that time, he spoke to me only when absolutely necessary, and even then, he would not look my way.
There was a part of me that wanted to tell him how childish he was being, but I knew it would do no good. If there were any hope of fixing this at all, I could not say a single uninvited word. The ball was completely in Carrick’s court; whatever happened next had to be his choice and his choice alone.
Then again, maybe there were some things I could do.
I couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t explain myself any further than I already had, but he was not the only problem in my life right then. While Carrick was coming to terms with whatever he needed to come to terms with, there were plenty of other steps I could take to sort out the mess I had made of my life.
It took much less effort to get back into contact with Kate, although we kept our communication to texts and emails. I didn’t know what I would do if I heard her voice again, anyway.
Once the shock and anger had worn off, the sadness set in. I was losing everything–my wife and the man I loved. Although our relationship had barely been functional for years, I had still loved Kate once upon a time. I knew that was true. Losing her like this was never going to be pleasant, but at least I could see that it was necessary. I couldn’t see any reason at all for Carrick not to be in my life forever. Nothing good could ever come of losing him. Of that I was certain.
It was good, in a way, that Kate and I had so much to discuss. It was a welcome distraction from how miserable I was on tour. I was sure everyone else had to wonder what was happening–Carrick was ignoring me and I was constantly glued to my phone–but there was no way to explain it, at least not right then. Maybe someday it could all be revealed, carefully, to those who needed to know. I didn’t think I could have that conversation alone; I needed Carrick to lean on, but I no longer had him.
But maybe… maybe someday soon he would come back to me.
I felt oddly torn–my mind was on the tour, on Carrick and on the plans I was making with Kate. The only way I could see to get through it all, to still be able to do my job as professionally as possible, was to simply shut down. Ignore everything and everyone else. It was easy enough to do, because I was too busy to really think about anything or do anything else anyway.
I kept to myself, locked away in the back of the bus as often as I possibly could get away with it. That was always my territory, and everyone knew it. No one really bothered me, and it was easy enough to disappear into my own world. Even when I left, in search of the bathroom or something to drink, I was still lost in my own mind.
One night in particular, I had thought everyone else on the bus was asleep when I finally emerged. I still crept carefully to the fridge, opening it slowly to see what my options were. I settled on something without caffeine, hoping I might at least be able to get a few fitful hours of sleep before we reached our destination.
“Good show tonight, Zac.”
I jumped, not having even realized that Taylor was there. I took a few deep breaths as I waited for my heart to stop beating out of my chest, then turned around and saw that, sure enough, Taylor was sitting on the couch with his laptop. I did my best to return his smile and said, “Oh, I… thanks.”
“You okay?” He raised an eyebrow.
I stared at him. What sort of question was that, with everything that had happened? Taylor knew most of the sordid details–probably all, in fact, considering how close he and Carrick seemed to have become. Knowing all of that, how could he possibly ask if I was okay?
His smile turned sad, and he scooted to one end of the couch. He patted the empty spot next to him, and softer, asked, “How’s everything? Have you been able to talk to him?”
“I mean, we talked, but…” I sat down, somewhat reluctantly. I knew this couldn’t be a trick, and yet… perhaps I just didn’t seem to the point in talking about it again. Nothing had changed, and I didn’t feel the need to be babied by my brother. I shook my head. “He wasn’t listening, you know? And I can’t really say that I blame him.”
Taylor nodded slowly. He closed his laptop and turned, facing me fully. I wasn’t sure I enjoyed having his full attention. I had allowed myself to become almost invisible, and it made things easier somehow. “It’s gonna take some time. You… really shot yourself in the foot on this one.”
“I’m painfully aware, thanks.” I sighed. Taylor didn’t deserve my sarcasm or my anger. He had done nothing; as he said, this was all my fault. “I… I know, I really do. He was just so–so cold. I know I fucked up, but to know that I hurt him that much…”
Taylor frowned, reaching out to put a hand on my back. It moved in slow, soft circles, almost imperceptibly. “I know, it’s not easy. But you’ll think of a way to get through to him. You’re stubborn enough.”
The last part was said with a soft chuckle, but I could hardly see the humor in it right then. My voice was soft and weak when I replied. “You didn’t see how he was. There are times when I think about it and I just wonder if I even…”
I let myself trail off. I was saying too much, and I hated letting that much of my emotions show, especially to Taylor. What I had thought, but couldn’t bring myself to say was that I didn’t truly believe that I deserved Carrick anymore. I probably never had.
Taylor’s hand continued to move on my back. He stared at me for a moment, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. “So, maybe it’ll take more than words. I don’t know. But he’s worth fighting for, right? You love him enough to fight for him?”
“Of course I do,” I replied, leaning into Taylor’s touch almost instinctively. “That’s not… that’s never been in doubt. But he deserves better, and–well, past experience would suggest I’m not capable of better.”
“Of course you are, Zac. You just have to think.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “I know you know how to do that. Just… I don’t know, be creative. Think about what made him fall for you in the first place. Think about what it is you love about him.”
I nudged Taylor back. I didn’t want to say that I had no idea why Carrick had fallen for me. Why I had fallen for him was easier to see–he was absolutely magnetic, yet he radiated this calm energy, like he didn’t even notice that everyone around him was falling all over themselves to get a little bit of his attention. Taylor had met him first and gushed about him when telling us how he’d invited him to Fools Banquet. When I first saw Carrick, he was sitting in my parents’ living room, strumming some Billy Bragg song and singing in that voice he had that was somehow smooth and perfectly raspy at the same time. Looking back, I think I really did start to fall the second I saw him.
“I’ve had some ideas,” I finally admitted. “And I’m… well, let’s just say I’m working on something. It’s just hard to see the way out of this. And to even see… the guy I fell for. Not when he’s so cold and distant.”
“He’s still there,” Taylor replied softly, his eyes not meeting mine. I wondered what he was seeing, off in the distance. There was nothing there, but whatever was on Taylor’s mind… well, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“I can’t see him,” I said, hating how my voice broke. “I don’t know, maybe he’s the same with everyone else, maybe it’s only toward me that he’s changed. But that… that spark he had. It’s like it’s gone. He was always so… he’d draw everyone’s attention, and not just because he’s so tall, but he never seemed to even notice. And when he talks to you, it’s like you’re the only person in the room.”
“I know the feeling,” Taylor replied, a strangely sad smile on his lips. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You guys… you were always–you and him have always been so connected. Ever since you first met. I’ll be honest, I’ve been a little jealous in the past.”
“Jealous?” I supposed that shouldn’t have really surprised me. He had been Taylor’s friend first, and it was clear how fond of Carrick my brother was. Then I had swooped in and declared him my new best friend that very first night. Maybe it hadn’t been fair to Taylor, and maybe there had been something between them that I had missed–but I was sure, if that was true, Carrick would have told me in all the years in between. Perhaps he didn’t know. Perhaps Taylor had kept his feelings to himself. I didn’t know why he thought now was the right time to share them. Still eying him closely, I said, “I guess he is… a bit more your type than mine. Sometimes I don’t think we have anything in common. He makes me sound like an idiot, but I could listen to him talk all day.”
Taylor finally looked at me again, smirking and shaking his head. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Zac. I think sometimes you forget you’re more than the persona you put on for the fans.”
“Alright, alright.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need a pep talk or whatever, but… thanks. Right now, I don’t even know what I am.”
That was the truth. A few short weeks ago, I had been a straight guy in what I thought was a typical marriage. It wasn’t entirely happy, but it seemed reasonably functional, even if the two halves of it had grown to have almost nothing in common. Yet I was a straight guy with secrets–secret desires, a secret relationship. And I had been wrong about my marriage entirely. If I could be so wrong about that, then surely I could be wrong about myself was well.
“You’re a guy who’s made a mess of your relationship,” Taylor said, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “But like I said, you’ll figure it out. Out of curiosity, you said you had something in mind…?”
I shook my head and looked down. “It’s stupid, probably. He won’t listen to me. He’s made it clear we can’t have another conversation. But if I could send a message another way… like, maybe on a… larger stage? Where he couldn’t ignore it.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. “Is this a metaphorical stage, or…?”
“I mean, I’m not going to get up there and, like, confess my love or anything. But you know I’m always better in a song than when I’m just trying to talk.”
“That’s… really sweet.” A slow smile spread across Taylor’s lips. “So, what, you’re writing a song for him?”
“Well, that would be an even better idea,” I replied flatly. Of course my idea was stupid and meaningless; using my own words would be so much better, but I hadn’t felt that itch to write in weeks. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Frowning, I added, “But there’s one song that’s always reminded me of him, and I think he’ll understand. I hope.”
“I’m sure he will.” He patted my shoulder, and I should have resented being treated childishly, but it was oddly comforting. There almost seemed to be a slight blush on Taylor’s cheeks when he added, “It’d be hard for anyone not to fall for you singing just for them.”
“Yeah, well… I hope you’re right.” I found myself smiling in spite of how hopeless I felt. This song was my last resort; I knew somehow that I wouldn’t get another chance to even begin to show Carrick how I felt.
“I usually am,” Taylor replied, smirking. He gave me a nudge and grabbed his laptop. “Now buzz off; I need to finish this.”
I watched as he reopened the laptop and became absorbed in its glow yet again. I didn’t know what he was working on; he seemed to always be writing, though that wasn’t surprising. He was by far the most prolific songwriter of the three of us, and I knew he had a stash of nonfiction writing as well, pieces he was slowly releasing as parts of blogs, editorials–whatever use he could find for them. Taylor’s creative mind never seemed to rest.
“Alright, alright,” I replied. Though he hardly seemed to be listening now that he was plugged in again, his fingers flying across the keys, I added, “But, Tay… thanks. For listening or whatever.”
He glanced up and gave me a genuine smile. “You know I’m always here for you. You may be an ass, but you know I still love ya.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied, laughing weakly. “And… you know I feel the same.”
“Go.” Taylor rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning another shade or two darker pink.
I held my hands up in defeat and stood, knowing it was useless to argue while Taylor was in that sort of creative mood. Sometimes I wondered what went on in that mind of his, but I thought that somehow, I was probably better off not knowing. I retreated back to my cave in the back of the bus, feeling as though a tiny portion of my burden had been lifted. No problems had been solved, but talking to Taylor had eased my mind enough that I thought I might at least sleep more easily that night.