The Freudian Slip (13/15) Part Three Cont.
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Rian is the first out of the two of them to wake. He does not remember his dream the second his eyes open, but whatever it was, it has unnerved him. He lets out a deep sigh as he tries to steady his heartbeat. He does not usually suffer from nightmares-- that always has been more of Alex’s thing-- but he has not been sleeping well lately despite having had reign of his bed. Once his breathing has settled, he makes to turn away from the window that has begun to let in the sun only to realize that Zack is still there. It is then that Dawson knows he will not drifting back to sleep and begins to wipe his eyes while simultaneously trying to clear his thoughts. He vaguely remembers Merrick finally asking to share the bed the night before and him agreeing readily.
He had been hoping that this meant that Zack would be willing to discuss what had happened at the hospital and maybe to forgive Rian. But nothing of the sort happened. The night progressed just like any other. Zack avoided both Dawson and his bedroom until the last possible minute and only got into bed once Rian had already claimed his habitual side. The bouncer, who in fairness had been exhausted from a long night at ‘The Party Scene’, had only wished Rian a gruff goodnight before nodding off. The tender, on the other hand, had spent most of the night shifting this way and that, suddenly uncomfortable in between his own sheets.
It had been a while since he had shared a bed with anyone, and though he knew from their traveling-in-a-van days that Zack is a snorer, it was still difficult to establish a rhythm between the two of them. Dawson felt completely out of sync and outside of his element. Which is silly, he knows that. Zack is one of his oldest friends and would never make it awkward if they accidentally brushed legs or somehow woke up face to face. But it all just felt too forced and obligatory, as if Merrick is only there because he needs a place to stay and not because he actually enjoys Rian’s company anymore. And that thought hurts Rian, more than he really understands until that moment, and that is when Zack wakes up.
“What’s wrong?” he asks gruffly, breaking out into a yawn.
“What?” asks Rian, drawn away from his epiphany.
“You looked like you were thinking way too hard for....12:36 in the afternoon,” Zack informs him, catching a glance at the clock. It is not early for most people, but club owners tend to keep odd hours.
“I was just....never mind,” dismisses Dawson, realizing how sad and pathetic his thoughts would sound aloud. How can he admit that his misses his best friend when they are lying in bed together?
“No, really, what is it?” insists the bouncer, propping himself up on one elbow. He sniffles a little bit, trying to clear those forever blocked airways of his and Rian wonders if he can smell how laden the room is of their combined sleepy scent. The stuffiness of the room seems to thicken the tension between them as the tender stalls in answering.
“I was just thinking,” admits Dawson, “About us, and how...we’ve changed.”
“Mhm, changed how?”
“Just...changed. I don’t know. We don’t ever really talk anymore.”
“Well, yeah. You never really say much anymore, do you?” demands Merrick his casual tone fading fast, “Nothing that you really mean anyways.”
“Well, neither do you,” scoffs Rian, a little offended at his friend’s snappiness.
“I tried to,” offers up Zack, relaxing his tone but sitting up now. “But you never listened.”
“I-”
“No. You wanna talk Rian? Let’s talk. Let’s talk about the fact I tried talking to you the night Sam left. I tried calling you when I was in the hospital checking up on Alex when you broke his ribs. I even tried chatting you up the night of the party when you guys supposedly made up. But you weren’t listening. You may have looked at me and nodded, but you clearly weren’t listening because you would have known how wrong it is to hold back on your true feelings.You can’t keep going on, being best friends with someone you hate just because you can’t deal with change. You can’t keep pretending you care about Alex when all the while you’re hoping something bad happens so you don’t have to deal with him anymore!”
“That’s not it!” denies Rian, inching upward to lean against the headboard, “God, you make it sound like I want him dead. I-I was just as scared as you were to know he was in the hospital again Zack. Maybe I was relieved it wasn’t my fault, and m-maybe I was glad it was serious enough that his parents came down to look after him but... That’s not true.
Maybe I didn’t forgive him for breaking up the band! But how could I? He was the one who formed it! He was the one who begged me to join, who nagged me about attending practices and who convinced me not to go to college! He was the one printing off flyers and organizing the gigs; talking about contract deals and summer tours. Don’t deny it; he had all convinced we would make it!”
“We did make it,” interjects Zack.
“Yeah we did,” agrees Dawson, “For about three glorious fucking seconds. We were going places, making names of ourselves, and then Alex had to go and fuck everything up!”
Merrick sighs heavily. “It’s not like he did it intentionally. Sleeping with some band slut he met at a bar doesn’t equate to breaking up the band.”
“It does when one of the other band members is in with love you!” spits out the ex-drummer.
The image of Sam Hertz’s broken-hearted face appears crystal clear in his mind. No matter how much they had tried coaxing him of what was slowly looking like a full-on depression, the man could not be moved. They had tried talking to him about it, taking him out on outings to forget about, but nothing worked. Booze and good music had always cured them of any teenage heartache in the past, so it had worried them when neither worked to cure the blond of his seeming catatonia (1). The crease of his frown, the pout of his lips, and the damnable way in which kept his chin down, so that his too shiny baby blues were obscured by his blonde bangs. These features became permanent fixtures on what was once a young sweet face.
Hertz eventually lost weight from not eating, and lost all interest in anything besides sleeping. Sure, he continued playing at show but went straight to his bunk afterward. He failed to contribute to any band decisions, or even everyday conversation. It had been like living with a zombie, a body with no presence; a ghostly reminder of how royally they had all screwed up. They had struggled with Sam Hertz’s moping about for almost a month before the ex-guitarist had called it quits and flew back to their hometown without a goodbye. They did not last much longer after that. If being around Sam was considered awkward, the time the remaining three weeks of their tour had been the most tense and uncomfortable time of their existence as friends.
“H-he didn’t know,” supplies Zack weakly, “I mean, Alex knew that Sam trusted him, loved him, but he didn’t think, he didn’t know that Sam would need him.”
“Yeah, well turns out we all needed him,” grumbles Rian, frustrated with his own admission.
“It wasn’t fair on Alex to be so responsible for one person. He needed us just as much. We all needed each other. ” points out Merrick, suddenly rising from the bed and grabbing his things.
“What are you saying? That I let you down as well?” demands Dawson,
Though he stops in his tracks, Zack does not bother turning to reply. “You know you did.”
It is then that Rian scrambles up from under the sheets, determined to finish what he needs to say.
“That’s not true,” he denies stalking after the ex-bassist, “I was there, always. I was at every band practise and meeting. I always was on time and staying back when everyone else was either hung over or looking for the next party.”
“Yeah you were there,” relents Merrick, stopping at the end of the hall, to stand in front of the framed photo of the entire band. “Physically you were always there, but never mentally.”
“Okay, so maybe I was never good at writing songs but I don’t see how-”
“Not that,” snaps Zack, his anger returning. “God, Rian. Your whole fucking attitude sucked. You got so frustrated when someone’s instrument wasn’t working or a show got cancelled. You pissed on everyone’s parade if the show wasn’t sold out or if people only showed up for whoever was headlining when we were just opening act wannabes. You were always on our asses, and not the way Flyzik was paid to be. You were overly critical and so damn negative. I swear it was like you didn’t even believe in what we were doing.”
Rian does not say anything at first, just stares at the photo he tries to avoid when roaming his own home. It is of the four of them, all huddled together with silly grins plastered on their faces. Alex and Sam looks extra cuddly but Gaskarth had always been too tactile to really tell if their friendship had grown complicated by then. It was evident Rian’s had though, what with the way his shoulders were hunched and his how grin looked forced.
“All you’d ever talk about, when you were drunk,” continues Zack darkly, “Was how you won that stupid football scholarship in senior year, and how you were so stupid to have not gone to college. Said you coulda ‘been somebody’ and how you threw away a ‘perfectly good life’ to drive around with ‘a bunch of social rejects.’ ”
“What?” demands Rian, genuinely appalled at the words coming from his housemate’s mouth. He knows he gets mouthy when he drinks too much, but he does not recall ever saying something so nasty about his best friends.
“What I didn’t get,” spits Merrick, ignoring his friend’s sputtering, “Was why when everything fell apart, you didn’t just go do it. Go to college, maybe not on a football scholarship-- but we managed to get enough profit when we sold out to get on for a while-and go live that American dream. You could join a frat house, make new friends and forget any of this ever happened. Eventually you’d get yourself a cushy desk job to support the wife and kids. Buy a nice two storey home in a nice neighbourhood where you can take the dog out for a walk every night and reminisce about the younger years.”
“Because,” insists Dawson, “That’s not what I really want. I loved to play music. I wanted to be in the band, I swear I did.”
“I don’t believe you,” states the bouncer blatantly. “They say a drunken man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts and you obviously didn’t think much of us.”
“It’s not that,” denies Rian pleadingly, “It’s just...sometimes it just all seemed too good to be true, you know? I had chosen my passion and we had signed the contract and everything was awesome for a while. But then I started getting this bad feeling, like making all these decisions, all these changes-- it was all too fast and wouldn’t last. I know we’d been dreaming of getting signed for forever, dedication takes a lifetime after all... but I always kind of thought that...it wouldn’t happen. That dreams are only for night.”
“You were waiting for one of us to fuck up,” accuses Merrick.
“No! Well, maybe. I scared Zack. I didn’t want to be disappointed. I was trying to be realistic!”
Zack snorts in disgust. “How good of you. Well you can give it up now Peter, the Lost boys are finished.”
“They can’t be though, not yet.” plays along Dawson gesturing towards a shut door behind which Alex is napping, “Wendy needs us.”
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Notes:
1. Catatonia: state of immobility associated with mental disorders and drug use
A/N: Hello! I’m happy to report that I am back in Canada and writing again. I want to thank of all my readers who wished me luck in France, it was an incredible experience that taught me so much about language, culture and perspective. I made friends from all over the world while living in an international residence and was lucky enough to visit 7 different countries where I encountered so many interesting people-but one of the best experiences had to be England where I managed to meet the first ever reader of TFS!
So even though I will have to admit I’ve grown/changed a lot since I started TFS (that was 2 years ago, goodness gracious what-the-fuck-have-I-been-doing-with-my-life) rest assured it’s still important to me and will get done. Thank you to those who have stuck around and welcome to anyone who has just gotten in on the action.
**Speaking of action, ages ago I read an article on ‘non-sexual intimacy’ and the importance of incorporating that into character relationship development and it suggested things such as bathing or shaving one another. I’m sure you’ve all noticed how important scenes tend to happen in bathrooms in this story. For me bathing was a form of infantilization while shaving is representative of manhood. So I hope no one was too weirded out by this chapter, though feel free to say so if you were!