muse_shuffle: August Disc One
Track 06. And the hard part, the bad part, the Jerry Springer show part is that you never stop loving someone. (Tori Amos - ’97 Bonnie and Clyde’ - Eminem cover)
[Follows THIS]
“Ali’s pregnant.”
James watched his brother standing in his doorway trying to hold himself up on the jamb and managed to stifle a small sigh. He hadn’t known if Ali would’ve been able to keep her promise and tell Mark about the baby, but he also knew Ali wasn’t weak and she wasn’t gutless. But Mark looked terrible… and there was no denying he was drunk. Probably not enough to lose the ability to walk or speak, but James could smell the after-scent of strong liquor emanating off his big brother. He was thankful that Izzy had dropped him home on her way to work that day, but only after he promised he was feeling better and that he would keep his cell phone on him in case something happened. Plus, she insisted she was coming back on all his breaks to check on him and had left only a short while ago after they had lunch together. It meant he was here now for Mark instead of still at Izzy’s apartment and even though he couldn’t see a way this conversation could possibly end well, it had to be faced. He bit down on the corner of his lip, wondering how he should tackle this, but in the end, all he did was nod slowly in confirmation.
Mark’s breath was coming in short, disjointed pants like he was fighting back the want to burst into tears. “You knew,” he rasped and gripped the frame of the door until his knuckles turned white. “You knew! Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!” he exploded.
“It wasn’t my place to tell,” James murmured. He stepped aside and held the door open. “Come in and sit down.”
“You’re my brother!” Mark shouted and stumbled angrily into the apartment. He didn’t sit, though; he just rounded on James angrily, stabbing him roughly in the chest with his finger. “I can’t believe you fucking kept this shit from me, you fucking bastard!”
James nudged the door closed with his elbow to try and cut his neighbours off from the screaming. “I’m not the fucking one you knocked up, arsehole!” he threw back, though it was a weak response compared to Mark’s anger. James just didn’t have the energy of a fight in him, but he wouldn’t take it lying down either.
“So fucking what! It’s my goddamn kid! I had a right to know! You should’ve told me! What kind of fucking brother are you?!” Mark looked momentarily like he wanted to hit James, but visibly held back. There was some sliver of rationality in his drunken mind. He was just struggling to hold on to it.
Mark yelling wasn’t new to James. They had many fiery shouting matches in their life together, though they usually ended with a good belt in the face and all went on it’s merry, brotherly way. This time it was different. This time there was so much at stake… Mark’s heart, for starters. “One who is also Ali’s best friend,” he said, eyes trailing Mark as he messily began to pace back and forth beside the sofa. “I only found out when I was in hospital. It wasn’t exactly a party in my pants either to connect the dots and realise who the fuck it was that put the bun in her oven. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Ali you were fucking around with?!”
Mark didn’t have a retort for that. He went to throw something back but nothing came out. Instead he just went from looking furious to exhausted in the blink of an eye and sunk down into James’ leather recliner to bury his head in hands. “What have I done, Jamie? She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me,” he moaned, folding over onto himself even more.
“She doesn’t want to have anything to do with Felicity,” James corrected. “And you can’t fucking blame her for that.”
Mark didn’t move. “It’s my kid. I deserve to be part of it’s life.”
“Then get rid of Felicity. She’s been nothing but a mistake from day one and you told me yourself the marriage is in the fucking shitter, Mark. You don’t even wear your wedding ring anymore! You have a choice to make now. It’s all finally coming back to bite you on the arse. No easy playing field where you can rule with your dick anymore. It’s your marriage or your kid. As far as I’m concerned, there would be no damn choice,” James said, a fierce frown marring his forehead.
“It’s not the kid, Jamie. It’s Ali. I want Ali. I don’t think I ever stopped,” Mark mumbled. “But she’ll never have me back. Especially not now. She said she doesn’t need me.”
James sighed as he drew a cushion into his lap to give his hands something to do. “Maybe not. And you’d completely deserve it if she didn’t,” he said bluntly. No sense dancing around the sugar-coated daisies with this one. “But Ali isn’t Felicity. She deserves to be treated better than what you did to her when she turned down your marriage proposal. She deserves the world and you better be fucking prepared to drag yourself through hell for her, and no less. Are you?”
“I always was. She didn’t want it,” Mark insisted tearfully.
“She didn’t want to get married,” James corrected. “But she never stopped fucking wanting you, and all you did was shit all over that by bedding Felicity right under her nose and then marrying her. To be honest, Mark, you’d be the bloody luckiest arsehole on earth if she did give you a second chance.”
Mark buried his face in his hands again and made a sound that was a cross between a sob and a moan. “Then what do I do? How do I fix this?”
“You might not be able to,” James murmured. “But I think you already know what you need to do to try. And soon, Mark, because she doesn’t need you. You have to make her want you all over again. You have to prove to her you’re worth putting her heart on the line… because right now, I don’t think you are.”
Mark let out a heavy, shaky breath. “I can always count on you to give it to me straight.” He glanced up at his little brother with a flicker of thanks in his eyes.
“You’re welcome,” James returned. “Want a vodka?”
“Make it a double,” Mark mumbled.
- isabelowens & agentsullivan referenced with permission
Words | 1,084
[Follows THIS]
“Ali’s pregnant.”
James watched his brother standing in his doorway trying to hold himself up on the jamb and managed to stifle a small sigh. He hadn’t known if Ali would’ve been able to keep her promise and tell Mark about the baby, but he also knew Ali wasn’t weak and she wasn’t gutless. But Mark looked terrible… and there was no denying he was drunk. Probably not enough to lose the ability to walk or speak, but James could smell the after-scent of strong liquor emanating off his big brother. He was thankful that Izzy had dropped him home on her way to work that day, but only after he promised he was feeling better and that he would keep his cell phone on him in case something happened. Plus, she insisted she was coming back on all his breaks to check on him and had left only a short while ago after they had lunch together. It meant he was here now for Mark instead of still at Izzy’s apartment and even though he couldn’t see a way this conversation could possibly end well, it had to be faced. He bit down on the corner of his lip, wondering how he should tackle this, but in the end, all he did was nod slowly in confirmation.
Mark’s breath was coming in short, disjointed pants like he was fighting back the want to burst into tears. “You knew,” he rasped and gripped the frame of the door until his knuckles turned white. “You knew! Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!” he exploded.
“It wasn’t my place to tell,” James murmured. He stepped aside and held the door open. “Come in and sit down.”
“You’re my brother!” Mark shouted and stumbled angrily into the apartment. He didn’t sit, though; he just rounded on James angrily, stabbing him roughly in the chest with his finger. “I can’t believe you fucking kept this shit from me, you fucking bastard!”
James nudged the door closed with his elbow to try and cut his neighbours off from the screaming. “I’m not the fucking one you knocked up, arsehole!” he threw back, though it was a weak response compared to Mark’s anger. James just didn’t have the energy of a fight in him, but he wouldn’t take it lying down either.
“So fucking what! It’s my goddamn kid! I had a right to know! You should’ve told me! What kind of fucking brother are you?!” Mark looked momentarily like he wanted to hit James, but visibly held back. There was some sliver of rationality in his drunken mind. He was just struggling to hold on to it.
Mark yelling wasn’t new to James. They had many fiery shouting matches in their life together, though they usually ended with a good belt in the face and all went on it’s merry, brotherly way. This time it was different. This time there was so much at stake… Mark’s heart, for starters. “One who is also Ali’s best friend,” he said, eyes trailing Mark as he messily began to pace back and forth beside the sofa. “I only found out when I was in hospital. It wasn’t exactly a party in my pants either to connect the dots and realise who the fuck it was that put the bun in her oven. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Ali you were fucking around with?!”
Mark didn’t have a retort for that. He went to throw something back but nothing came out. Instead he just went from looking furious to exhausted in the blink of an eye and sunk down into James’ leather recliner to bury his head in hands. “What have I done, Jamie? She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me,” he moaned, folding over onto himself even more.
“She doesn’t want to have anything to do with Felicity,” James corrected. “And you can’t fucking blame her for that.”
Mark didn’t move. “It’s my kid. I deserve to be part of it’s life.”
“Then get rid of Felicity. She’s been nothing but a mistake from day one and you told me yourself the marriage is in the fucking shitter, Mark. You don’t even wear your wedding ring anymore! You have a choice to make now. It’s all finally coming back to bite you on the arse. No easy playing field where you can rule with your dick anymore. It’s your marriage or your kid. As far as I’m concerned, there would be no damn choice,” James said, a fierce frown marring his forehead.
“It’s not the kid, Jamie. It’s Ali. I want Ali. I don’t think I ever stopped,” Mark mumbled. “But she’ll never have me back. Especially not now. She said she doesn’t need me.”
James sighed as he drew a cushion into his lap to give his hands something to do. “Maybe not. And you’d completely deserve it if she didn’t,” he said bluntly. No sense dancing around the sugar-coated daisies with this one. “But Ali isn’t Felicity. She deserves to be treated better than what you did to her when she turned down your marriage proposal. She deserves the world and you better be fucking prepared to drag yourself through hell for her, and no less. Are you?”
“I always was. She didn’t want it,” Mark insisted tearfully.
“She didn’t want to get married,” James corrected. “But she never stopped fucking wanting you, and all you did was shit all over that by bedding Felicity right under her nose and then marrying her. To be honest, Mark, you’d be the bloody luckiest arsehole on earth if she did give you a second chance.”
Mark buried his face in his hands again and made a sound that was a cross between a sob and a moan. “Then what do I do? How do I fix this?”
“You might not be able to,” James murmured. “But I think you already know what you need to do to try. And soon, Mark, because she doesn’t need you. You have to make her want you all over again. You have to prove to her you’re worth putting her heart on the line… because right now, I don’t think you are.”
Mark let out a heavy, shaky breath. “I can always count on you to give it to me straight.” He glanced up at his little brother with a flicker of thanks in his eyes.
“You’re welcome,” James returned. “Want a vodka?”
“Make it a double,” Mark mumbled.
- isabelowens & agentsullivan referenced with permission
Words | 1,084