Seductive Chaos
Page 71
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
I didn’t say anything. After a few minutes Garrett gave me a dry look. “Don’t just stand there like a limp dick, go and start breaking down the drum kit,” he ordered.
Instead of bristling like I would have only a week ago, I did as he told me to. We worked in silence, packing up the remnants of our history.
“Where are Mitch and Jordan?” I asked.
“Jordan’s with Maysie and Mitch is with that Sophie chick he started seeing. So I was stuck doing this myself,” Garrett said.
“Well it’s a good thing I came along then,” I tried to joke but my words sounded flat.
Garrett didn’t say anything. I twisted off the bolts and put them in a pile, carefully taking apart the cymbals and laying them off to the side.
“I went out to my parents’ place,” I found myself saying. Garrett looked over at me in surprise.
“You did?” he asked, twisting the mic stand and collapsing it.
I picked up the snare and put it beside the cymbals. “Yeah. Someone else lives there now.”
Garrett stopped what he was doing and came over. He bent down and picked up the bolts and put them in a Tupperware container. “Wow, that’s some shit. I’m guessing they didn’t tell you they were moving.”
I shook my head. “Fuck no. I haven’t talked to those bastards in years,” I said gruffly, trying to hide how much it hurt. But Garrett saw right through me.
“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.
“Yeah, well what are you gonna do?” I brushed it off like it didn’t matter. But it did. A lot.
“Do you know where they went?” Garrett asked, picking up the dissassembled drums and carrying them over to the half stack. I followed with the rest of the kit.
“No. And I don’t care either. Fuck them!” I said with enough vehemence to be convincing.
Garrett glanced at me and smiled. “Yeah, f**k them,” he agreed.
We finished breaking the leftover equipment down. “This stuff will be picked up in the morning. I say we’re done here. You want to go get a beer?” Garrett asked, surprising me.
“Sure,” I said.
We walked to the Appleby’s down the road and sat down at the bar. Garrett ordered a pitcher of beer.
“Thanks for the help,” he said after the bartender left to get our order.
“Yeah, sure. You should have called if you needed help,” I said, knowing how stupid that was. Particularly with how he and I had left things.
But Garrett didn’t say anything about that. He just nodded as if I was right.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Been better. You?”
“’Bout the same,” he answered as the bartender brought our pitcher and mugs.
We poured ourselves a beer. Garrett grabbed a handful of peanuts and threw them in his mouth, watching the television screen playing a basketball game in the corner.
“I know you think we’re holding you back. And maybe you’re right. I’ve thought a lot about shit since Sunday and I think you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” he said suddenly.
“What the f**k are you talking about?” I asked.
Garrett shrugged, taking his eyes off the TV to look at me. “You and me, we’ve been friends for a long time. And I know you wouldn’t purposefully f**k us over.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Where was this sage wisdom when you were telling me what a dick I was?”
Garrett’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “I was pissed. You played that damn song when I didn’t want you to. I wasn’t thinking clearly. None of us were. But I’ve had a few days to calm down. And with everything going on, I think we’ve been pretty unfair to you.”
I downed half of my beer. “And do the others agree with you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Garrett shrugged again. “I doubt it. But Jordan is a hothead, just as you are. And Mitch will go along with whatever Jordan says. That doesn’t mean you weren’t an ass**le, because you were. What you did was wrong. But we should never have walked off that stage. And we should never have accused you of trying to push us out. It wasn’t cool. We all have to take some accountability for getting to where we are.”
I didn’t know what to say. This didn’t fix everything that had gone wrong, but I started to feel a whole lot better.
“I think it’s just sad that after everything we’ve been through, it’s going to end over something so f**king stupid. For nothing.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Because we had messed up big time.
“But you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, Cole. And at the end of the day, I’ll still be here if you need me.”
And that was exactly what I needed to hear.
Garrett finished his beer and slid his empty mug down the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and got to his feet.
“Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you soon, all right?”
I could only nod as he tossed some cash on the bar and with a nod, walked out.
The guy with the least to say always had been the one to make me think the most.
And he had given me something I desperately needed.
Some perspective.
20
It was Saturday night and I was home. By myself.
There was something almost criminal about that.
But lately I wasn’t fit for human interaction. I was moody and prone to irrational outbursts of the colorful language variety. Gracie asked innocently whether I liked her new shoes.
Instead of bristling like I would have only a week ago, I did as he told me to. We worked in silence, packing up the remnants of our history.
“Where are Mitch and Jordan?” I asked.
“Jordan’s with Maysie and Mitch is with that Sophie chick he started seeing. So I was stuck doing this myself,” Garrett said.
“Well it’s a good thing I came along then,” I tried to joke but my words sounded flat.
Garrett didn’t say anything. I twisted off the bolts and put them in a pile, carefully taking apart the cymbals and laying them off to the side.
“I went out to my parents’ place,” I found myself saying. Garrett looked over at me in surprise.
“You did?” he asked, twisting the mic stand and collapsing it.
I picked up the snare and put it beside the cymbals. “Yeah. Someone else lives there now.”
Garrett stopped what he was doing and came over. He bent down and picked up the bolts and put them in a Tupperware container. “Wow, that’s some shit. I’m guessing they didn’t tell you they were moving.”
I shook my head. “Fuck no. I haven’t talked to those bastards in years,” I said gruffly, trying to hide how much it hurt. But Garrett saw right through me.
“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.
“Yeah, well what are you gonna do?” I brushed it off like it didn’t matter. But it did. A lot.
“Do you know where they went?” Garrett asked, picking up the dissassembled drums and carrying them over to the half stack. I followed with the rest of the kit.
“No. And I don’t care either. Fuck them!” I said with enough vehemence to be convincing.
Garrett glanced at me and smiled. “Yeah, f**k them,” he agreed.
We finished breaking the leftover equipment down. “This stuff will be picked up in the morning. I say we’re done here. You want to go get a beer?” Garrett asked, surprising me.
“Sure,” I said.
We walked to the Appleby’s down the road and sat down at the bar. Garrett ordered a pitcher of beer.
“Thanks for the help,” he said after the bartender left to get our order.
“Yeah, sure. You should have called if you needed help,” I said, knowing how stupid that was. Particularly with how he and I had left things.
But Garrett didn’t say anything about that. He just nodded as if I was right.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Been better. You?”
“’Bout the same,” he answered as the bartender brought our pitcher and mugs.
We poured ourselves a beer. Garrett grabbed a handful of peanuts and threw them in his mouth, watching the television screen playing a basketball game in the corner.
“I know you think we’re holding you back. And maybe you’re right. I’ve thought a lot about shit since Sunday and I think you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” he said suddenly.
“What the f**k are you talking about?” I asked.
Garrett shrugged, taking his eyes off the TV to look at me. “You and me, we’ve been friends for a long time. And I know you wouldn’t purposefully f**k us over.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Where was this sage wisdom when you were telling me what a dick I was?”
Garrett’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “I was pissed. You played that damn song when I didn’t want you to. I wasn’t thinking clearly. None of us were. But I’ve had a few days to calm down. And with everything going on, I think we’ve been pretty unfair to you.”
I downed half of my beer. “And do the others agree with you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Garrett shrugged again. “I doubt it. But Jordan is a hothead, just as you are. And Mitch will go along with whatever Jordan says. That doesn’t mean you weren’t an ass**le, because you were. What you did was wrong. But we should never have walked off that stage. And we should never have accused you of trying to push us out. It wasn’t cool. We all have to take some accountability for getting to where we are.”
I didn’t know what to say. This didn’t fix everything that had gone wrong, but I started to feel a whole lot better.
“I think it’s just sad that after everything we’ve been through, it’s going to end over something so f**king stupid. For nothing.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Because we had messed up big time.
“But you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, Cole. And at the end of the day, I’ll still be here if you need me.”
And that was exactly what I needed to hear.
Garrett finished his beer and slid his empty mug down the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and got to his feet.
“Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you soon, all right?”
I could only nod as he tossed some cash on the bar and with a nod, walked out.
The guy with the least to say always had been the one to make me think the most.
And he had given me something I desperately needed.
Some perspective.
20
It was Saturday night and I was home. By myself.
There was something almost criminal about that.
But lately I wasn’t fit for human interaction. I was moody and prone to irrational outbursts of the colorful language variety. Gracie asked innocently whether I liked her new shoes.
