Flawed Design - Eighty Five
Title: Flawed Design (85)
Part: Eighty-Five
POV: Zac
Pairing: Zaylor (Zac/Taylor)
Genre: Hancest
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Not much, a little swearing?
Authors Notes:
Word Count: 3362
I hadn't been able to prevent my mind from racing in a thousand and one different directions at the notion of the voice mail. Adam had been the least likely person to have left a message for me, and I hadn't been able to conjure up a likely reason he could be calling that would be positive. We hadn't exactly had a high number of positive interactions in the past, and with a sinking feeling, I couldn't help but think of Taylor.
Had something happened to Taylor?
A dramatic conclusion, certainly, but it was one that raced through my mind as I frantically re-dialled from my call history, feeling my fingers tremble as I found a spot to sit down in the den. I listened to it ring once, twice, and then on the third time, a calm voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Adam?"
A pause. "Yes..."
"It's Zac... Hanson." I swallowed, feeling my heart pounding a little more rapidly. "Just returning your call."
Another pause, but his lack of immediate panic had allowed me to realize that my brother not likely to be in the way of harm.
"Oh!" His voice picked up. "Sorry, bud... do you have a few minutes to talk?"
"I do... is everything okay?" I hadn't been able to resist asking, with anxiety still building at that point. Patience has never been a virtue of mine, after all.
"Well... yes... but..." Adam paused. "No."
My heart had dropped to my feet at that point, stomach twisting up and my body temperature seemingly rose several degrees within seconds. Fortunately, Adam had been hasty to reassure me that Taylor was indeed okay - physically. Mentally, he was a little upset - the entire band was, in fact. Most notably upset had been the drummer, and his anger had lead him to quit. It had started with a simple mistake during a sound check; Bun E had suggested trying a new style for the upcoming interview, but Adam admitted to me that he had shot it down, not wanting to risk messing up the rhythm that they were used to. Frustrated, Bun E refused to perform that night and when the argument escalated, when he complained that the negative attention would reflect poorly on his other band, Taylor got involved as well, and with two against one, the drummer had quit.
Suddenly, Taylor's rather drunken state made a lot of sense. But I hadn't appreciated hearing about the situation from Adam instead of Taylor himself. The entire thing had been a lot to take in; so overwhelming, in fact, that I hadn't been immediately able to put the pieces together and had been confused as to why Adam was suggesting that I might be able to help the situation. A couple of long moments of silence passed, I hadn't been quite sure what to say that would provide guidance and my social awkwardness had kicked in as well. I hardly knew Adam.
"So... we're out of a drummer." Adam finally said, a hint of suggestion to his tone.
A moment passed and then I practically fell off of the couch, sitting straight up. "Are you asking me to play?"
"When can you get here? We had to cancel tonight's show."
"Whoa" I replied, practically cutting him off. My body had been trembling, every one of my nerves standing on edge, but something more fierce willed me on. "I haven't even said yes, yet."
Something warm - not quite anger, but something stronger than confidence seemed to burn within me. It hadn't been that I didn't want to play - quite the opposite, in fact. It had been the fact that he'd just assumed that I'd do it - because he was used to having everyone say yes to him. I knew someone - rather intimately, with a very similar personality and I'd finally decided it was time to stand up for myself a little bit.
"Zac..." I heard him pause to take a breath.
Was he nervous?
"I know we haven't gotten on the best in the past..."
I can remember distinctly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at that specific line, but I'd kept my mouth shut, holding up so that he could continue, because he had sounded honest and genuine to me. I took a deep breath.
"But... it would mean a lot to Taylor, I'm sure. He doesn't know yet that I'm asking you."
Up until then, I had been under the impression that the entire thing had been Taylor's idea. In hindsight, it seems plainly obvious - it hadn't been Taylor who called, after all. I couldn't help but wonder why Taylor hadn't asked me - had he assumed that I wouldn't want to do it? But it was then that I realized I hadn't even decided myself if I wanted to do it or not.
The thought of being on stage in front of a crowd, absorbing the energy from the audience while I give one hundred and fifty percent of myself to the performance. The rush of playing music live for screaming fans is something indescribable. I know the way that I love music, and when we played, I could feel the way that the fans loved our music... being able to share it with them is something precious, almost intimate. There is a silent connection between you and every single one of them as they sing along, their voices lost in a sea of hundreds, every one united.
But... Playing for Tinted Windows would be *just* that... it was Taylor's band, their project... and to me, just someone else's baby. On the other hand, part of me knew, in a very bitter sweet way, that I may not ever have another opportunity. The days of Hanson were long gone and over, and with few friends to my name... prospects of another band were slim. Taylor has always been more of an optimist than I have, but there are times where I've summed the confidence to look on the bright side, and this had been one of them.
"I would like to do it." I finally told him, it sounded so simple and easy, but as soon as the words had been spoken, I began to feel every one of the obstacles that would stand between myself and the stage the following night. I began to feel a little panicky about the lack of time, but knew that losing control of myself would not make things easier. "You have a show tomorrow night?"
"We" Adam laughed softly, correcting me in a voice that sounded more warm than I'd ever noticed it to before. "Have a show tomorrow night. I'm so glad you're going to join us."
"Me too... I've got to figure some things out, can I call you back when I get the flight booked?"
"Absolutely... " Adam's voice trailed off. "Taylor is going to be really happy about this... he was quite upset last night and we all assumed that the rest of the shows would have to be cut."
I had felt really good knowing that Taylor would be relieved, and I couldn't help but feel excited about the idea of playing again as well. I went over some more of the details with Adam, however, and began to worry a little bit more about my previous obligations. Two weeks away from my job, from the store, without any notice for Bette. And how exactly was I going to explain it to her? It felt rather overwhelming but even with the fear of losing my job all together, I had known that I'd made the right decision.
Being excited about the upcoming weeks hadn't been enough to keep the nervous jitters away, and I sat for several moments on the couch, rather still, sort of just absorbing and trying to plan what I would say to Bette. I'd known that I'd have be prompt in letting her know and decided I'd walk down to the shop and tell her in person... after dinner. My stomach grumbled and I began to ponder the selections in the kitchen. And then the sound of something crashing coming from the direction of my bedroom caused me to jolt out of my statuesque state. I rushed down the hall, unsure of what to expect when I dashed into the bedroom and found Lucy amidst a pile of Taylor's shoes.
Surrounded by sneakers and boots, a dozen pairs of Toms and a few pairs I had never even seen him wear, she looked rather innocent, wide brown eyes and a slow wagging tail. My eyes wandered around the mess and a couple of things dawned on me. One, my boyfriend might own more pairs of shoes than half of the women in New York City - combined, and two, a particularly conspicuous pair of reddish-brown leather boots. Swallowing around a lump in my throat, I noticed something obscure about their familiarity. Lucy had chewed the sole clean off in the front and one of the buckles was missing.
"Of all the pairs you could have chewed up..." I mumbled, picking up the battered boots and conjuring up a disposal plan for them. I could foolishly hope that Taylor wouldn't notice the loss - you'd think this to be reasonable, given the number of other pairs of shoes he could wear in their place, but I knew Taylor and I knew his love for those boots. Before I was finished tidying up, the sound of soft whimpering came from the corner of the room. Lucy stared at me, sad-eyed and apologetic.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" I asked her, receiving a joyous reply of doggy kisses and surrendering to the fact that dinner would have to wait.
--
None of it really felt real, to be honest, the way everything fell into place. I'd been expecting Bette to be really upset at the notion of me leaving for just over two weeks, but instead of being angry or distraught about losing a member of her staff, she was extremely supportive. She thanked me for all of the extra time I'd poured into the shop over the fall and she felt as though she could return the favour by giving me the time off. What had surprised me even more, was the fact that she'd even offered to take care of Lucy while I was away. Knowing that she'd be with someone I knew, instead at the kennel, alone in a strange cage in a place filled with lots of other dogs, set me at ease. I felt relieved when I dropped her off later that night at Bette's house, just outside the city, with a bag of her supplies and a generous thank-you card and cheque.
It took me until late into the night, gulping down several mugs of peppermint flavoured black tea while packing my bags. I hadn't had time to take my drums out of storage and have them tuned, but Adam said he knew of a place for high end rentals in LA. A mix of adrenaline and nerves, along with the strong tea, kept me awake until nearly four. When I finally laid down, it felt a little redundant, knowing that I'd have to get up in just over five hours. When I closed my eyes, I began to feel anxieties creeping in. What if I had a hard time learning the material? Adam had assured me that the drumming was fairly simple, and I knew that it wasn't as though I'd touched a set of skins for the first time recently. I felt little tingles of excitement as well, the roar of the crowd, the rush of excitement. I had been excited to see Taylor as well, though it hadn't been too long, it felt like ages since we'd touched. I tossed and turned beneath my thick duvet in my lonely and oversized bed. I rolled into Taylor's spot and nuzzled my nose into his down pillow, inhaling the faintest lingering of his familiar cologne as I drifted off.
--
Luck hadn't played in my favour the following morning when the Starbucks at the airport managed to prepare my Grande half-sweet whole milk Peppermint Mocha incorrectly, subbing out the milk for soy and forgetting the Peppermint. With a scowl, I glanced at the thick line of customers waiting at the till and surrounding the bar and then glanced at the time on my phone. I didn't have a lot of time until my flight would be boarding and so I took a few long swigs of the much too sweet drink and then threw it away, hoping that my luck would change as I made my way to my gate.
It had appeared the the flight hadn't nearly sold out and so I'd initially expected and hoped for a relaxing couple of hours. Instead, I watched in horror as a young mom cradling an infant began to make her way down the aisle. A sinking feeling in my stomach, that one that taps you on your shoulder just before something unpleasant happens. Of course, her ticket was for the seat right next to me and I could only hope that my headphones and iPod would drown out the inevitable piercing screams that would soon disrupt.
"Sir" A very quiet and muffled voice. I sighed, hoping I'd imagined it. "Sir!"
More insistent and I jumped in my seat. The young mother looked at me with wide eyes and then behind her, I saw the flight attendant who had been beckoning for my attention.
"No headphones right now."
I stared at her for a moment, incredulous.
"Aircraft policy."
I sighed and pulled the buds out of my ears and like clockwork, the baby began to whimper as the planes engines began to turn on, preparing for flight. I closed my eyes and settled back in my seat, willing myself to relax. It would only be a couple of hours, I promised myself. After what felt like forever, the seat belt sign was turned off and the flight attendants started coming around with the beverage carts. I wanted a peppermint mocha latte... but I ordered a coffee with two creams and a sugar on the side, instead. The 'blueberry' muffin that was given to me didn't interest me too much, but I downed the coffee quickly, finding that it hadn't tasted quite as despicable as I'd expected it to. The baby slept for most of the flight and I was able to read a chapter and a half of the novel that I'd packed. I began to feel restless after three hours and thankful that it was nearly time to land. With landing, however, came the turbulence and air pressure changes that caused the baby next to me to howl. With my eyes glued to the tiny in-flight television mounted to the seat in front of me, I counted down the feet, by the thousands, as the plane crept towards the ground. Watching the numbers slowly grow smaller and smaller had been the only comfort and escape from the piercing screams and building anxiety in my chest. Getting off of the plane, would only be mission one, I had told myself.
And as surely as I'd expected, mission two became navigating my way through the jam packed terminal. The luggage carousel was crowded, a sea of bags that all looked the same and not one of them looked like mine. I waited and watched, bag after bag as it would slip through the little rubber curtains time after time I was let down. There hadn't been much I could do without my baggage, and so I waited and waited, a few minutes feeling as long as hours. And then a hand on my shoulder and I nearly leapt out of my skin, jumping and spinning to face... Taylor.
"Hey!" I said and was instantly pulled into a tight hug.
I felt Taylor bury his face into my neck as he wrapped his strong arms around me and for a moment I felt as though I wasn't able to breathe. I took all of it in, the feeling of his rough stubble against the side of my cheek and the scent of his warm and spicy cologne. He pulled away quickly and looked over his shoulder.
"Adam is coming" He said after a brief pause.
It took me just longer than a moment to clue in to what he was hinting at. It felt a little like a kick to the stomach to know that we had to play down our relationship - not just a little, but to the point of non existence. It was not negotiable and I understood, I had just hoped that we'd be able to have some alone time... at some point. I chewed on my lip as I realized that we really wouldn't be able to spend time together the way we were used to being able to. Things were going to have to be very different.
"You made it!"
The sound of Adam's voice snapped me right out of my thoughts and I turned to him with a fabricated smile.
"Just barely..." I grinned and kidded, feeling him wrap his arms around me in a quick hug, as if we were long lust chums. I didn't mind the friendliness, though.
James had come along as well, a quieter guy in nature and he gave me a warm smile instead of a hug. We made a little bit of small conversation about some plans for lunch before finally finding my bag on the carousel. We had a van waiting outside the airport and when we piled in, we asked the driver to take us to a Mexican restaurant that James had been recommended. I had been relieved to find that I felt a lot more at ease around the guys than I'd expected, Taylor even did his best to find conversations that I'd have a say in.
At the restaurant, Taylor slid into the bench next to me, sitting close enough that our thighs were touching. No one seemed to notice how close we were as we looked over the menus and then placed our order with the waitress.
"So, Zac... where do you work, exactly?" James asked, setting down his bottle of beer.
"At an art supply shop..." I said, feeling a little cautious, wondering how these 'rockstars' sitting around me would feel about my not so glamorous day job.
"That would be fun..." Adam mused. "But this will be a nice break, huh?"
James grinned and I smiled as well. "It will. I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too..." Taylor had said so casually, but there was nothing casual about the meaning behind it at all.
No one seemed to notice as he allowed his hand to slip beneath the table, fingers sliding to my thigh and my entire body felt as though a fire had been lit beneath me as he smoothed his palm over my knee and then let his hand fall away. The entire time, he stared straight ahead, this perfectly innocent little smile on his pretty mouth while I felt as though I could sink into the floor. Just what had I gotten myself into? I wondered, knowing that it would be hours until I'd have more than a few minutes alone with him. And an entire concert to get through first.
The conversation shifted and I had been thankful to just sit back and listen while we waited for our food. My stomach began to grumble and when the waitress returned, placing in front of me a large and steaming plate of beef and bean burritos with a huge basket of nachos on the side, I knew that I was going to devour every single bite of it. I had a long day ahead of me, and I needed all the help that I could get.