6 Days to Whisky
Chapter 1
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Milo
“Are you guys ready?” Milo asked, turning his Chevelle onto Alvarado. “Only one week away.”
Leaf blew smoke out the open window and glanced over his shoulder at Tristan, who didn’t seem inclined to respond.
Sprawled on the backseat with his head reclined on the cushion and eyes shut, Tristan enjoyed the breeze.
With a smile, Leaf turned back to the front.
Seeing Tristan so relaxed had a calming effect on him.
“I’m a little nervous,” Leaf admitted.
“You?” Milo exclaimed. “That’s hard to believe, my friend.”
“I know the album is good, but will the critics see it the same way?”
“Well, you set the bar pretty high with the first album,” Milo said with a wink. “You kind of brought this on yourselves.”
“Yeah … In a way, we can only mess it up.”
“I’m not worried,” Tristan chimed in from behind, leaning forward between the two front seats.
“Not at all?” Leaf asked, though it didn’t surprise him much. Tristan had a good sense of what was good.
“Not at all,” Tristan replied casually. “If Milo says the album is good, then it is.”
Leaf raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him. Milo burst out laughing as he stopped at a red light.
“Ha! Of course, little brother. When I tell you that you’ve recorded a legendary second album destined to go down in rock history, you better believe it.”
“I told you.” Tristan settled back in his chair with a satisfied smile.
Leaf chuckled as he extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray. “Yeah, you were right about the first album too,” he admitted inevitably. “Why should you be wrong this time?”
“I never go wrong with these things, my friend.” Milo grinned broadly. “I’ve got a sixth sense for this stuff.”
Leaf suddenly felt Tristan wrap his arms around him from behind and plant a kiss on his cheek.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he whispered into his ear, sending a cool shiver down Leaf’s spine.
“Our songs are awesome, and people will love them. And if they don’t, remember: I love you more than anything. ”
Leaf shifted his head and found Tristan’s warm lips. “I love you too.”
The intimate moment was interrupted by the annoying ringtone of Milo’s phone. Tristan slumped back into the backseat as Milo pulled his phone from his back pocket, glanced briefly at the screen, and answered the call.
“Yeah? Hello?” he said, changing lanes.
They were on their way to Santa Monica, and Tristan was adamant about stopping for a funnel cake before the tour.
The idea of indulging in that greasy pastry made Leaf cringe.
He couldn’t care less that the best ones were on the pier; he’d follow Tristan anywhere just to spend time with him.
With the upcoming tour looming, Leaf cherished every moment with the two brothers even more.
He had missed Milo during the last tour.
Their conversations always lifted his spirits.
But seeing Diego’s name flash on the phone screen made him uneasy. Even though Milo hadn’t put it on speaker, Leaf could still hear Diego’s voice quite clearly.
“Where are you?” he heard him say over the phone with a strong Spanish accent.
“On Alvarado,” Milo replied.
“Oh, that’s convenient. Could you do me a favor?”
“I’m on my way to Santa Monica.”
“Please! It’s just a quick stop on the way. I would do it myself, but I have something else going on here.”
Leaf rolled his eyes. Considering he had worked for Diego Garcia himself for a few years, he could only imagine what kind of favor it could be.
“Alright, what do you need?” Milo asked reluctantly.
“You need to pick up a delivery for me. I’ll send you the address and the details. Everything’s already prepared. It’s as simple as that.”
“But I don’t want that stuff sitting in my trunk all day.”
“You can drop it off at my place on your way to Santa Monica. No problem. It’s right on the way.”
“Okay. Send me the details.”
“You’re the best!” Diego exclaimed and hung up.
“Guys,” Milo said, crestfallen. “Change of plans. We’re making a quick detour …” He peered at the screen as a message popped up. “To Koreatown.”
“Sure,” Tristan replied with a casual shrug.
Perhaps it might have been better to object.
Leaf knew the area well and already had a hunch where Diego would send Milo; he only used one place in Koreatown as a drop-off point.
While there were many crackheads in the neighborhood, Diego was keen on keeping the house clean.
His sister, Ariana, even lived on the top floor while deals were made on the ground floor.
Leaf had a bad feeling, but seeing Milo handling the situation with Diego, he chose to remain silent.
Despite his doubts, Milo had successfully concealed his financial issues from Tristan and resolved matters through hard work.
Leaf, having settled his own affairs with Diego, felt it wasn’t his place to intervene in any way.
Shortly after, Milo stopped at the designated address. All the parking spots in front of the house were taken, so he parked a little further down the street. Leaf was okay with that. The farther away, the better; he didn’t want to run into Ariana.
“Wait here for a sec,” Milo said as they all exited the car. “I’ll be right back.”
Tristan took a few steps and glanced around, his expression tinged with suspicion.
The sight of the neighborhood was unsettling enough to make him uncomfortable.
He rubbed his arms, as if sensing a chill despite the sweltering humidity of the day.
A warm breeze rustled through the palm fronds overhead.
“Do you think the weather will hold up?” Tristan asked worriedly.
Leaf laughed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the car. “Don’t worry. The pier is covered. You’ll get your funnel cake.”
“I definitely will,” Tristan said, stepping closer to Leaf but keeping a careful distance.
A sheen of sweat glistened his face, and his black curls appeared noticeably frizzier than usual, likely due to the oppressive humidity.
His dark eyes sparkled with that affectionate expression that always left Leaf weak in the knees.
Ever since they became a couple on the last tour, Leaf yearned to constantly touch Tristan.
Any distance between them felt unbearable.
But Tristan wasn’t ready to make their relationship public yet, and Leaf respected that. Though it was tough for him, Leaf prioritized Tristan’s comfort above all else—that was the most important thing.
“Where are we, anyway?” Tristan asked, glancing around. “What’s Milo doing here?”
“He’s picking up something.”
“Hmm … Lately, he’s had a lot more secrets than usual.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“It’s probably because we’ve been away from home for so long, and the time we’ve spent here hasn’t been particularly long either.”
“You missed him,” Leaf said sympathetically. “So it’s normal for you to feel like there’s a gap in your knowledge regarding Milo now.”
“Yeah, maybe. I wish he could come on tour with us.”
“Did you ask him if he wants to come?”
“Of course.” Tristan threw his hands up in frustration. “He said his place is here. But I don’t get it. We have enough earnings, and room and board would be free. Why is he still working so hard with these jobs? It seems completely unnecessary.”
Leaf nodded, a cold knot in his stomach.
Why had Milo ever told him about those debts he’d been trying to pay off for months?
Although Tristan didn’t voice his concerns aloud, Leaf could tell he suspected something.
After all, Tristan knew his brother well enough to sense when something was amiss.
The way Tristan looked around and nervously rubbed his arms suggested he intended to confront Milo after the quick stop.
He would ask his brother if there was cause for concern and if he still didn’t want to join them on tour.
While Milo may be the older of the two and had taken it upon himself to look after Tristan, Tristan did everything for Milo when he needed help too.
The wind picked up, and it looked like a storm was brewing. Dark clouds were gathering from the south and towering high into the sky.
“Urgh … Where is he?” Tristan asked impatiently.
Leaf shook his head in amusement and lit another cigarette. Waiting was never Tristan’s strong suit. He had learned to deal with it better on the last tour but still hated it. Leaf was different. He enjoyed the dead time when nothing was demanded of him.
A sudden bang caught their attention.
Leaf’s eyes darted toward the house where Milo had disappeared.
“Was that a gunshot?” Tristan asked, alarmed. “Did it come from the building?”
Worried, Leaf took a few steps forward to get a better view of the entrance. Then another shot rang out.
“It’s coming from inside!” Tristan shouted, moving into action.
Leaf tossed his cigarette and grabbed Tristan from behind, holding him tight. He would never allow Tristan to rush headlong into that damned house.
The door burst open, and Milo came running out.
He bounded down the steps and raced toward them as if chased by monsters.
A man appeared in the doorway. Leaf recognized him at first glance as one of Diego’s suppliers, aiming his gun at Milo and firing.
Milo stumbled, spat blood, and collapsed to the ground.
“Milo!” Tristan screamed, wriggling out of Leaf’s grip and running to his brother.
Leaf was paralyzed. Although the man retreated back into the house, Leaf knew he would escape through the back exit and vanish. Even if he could move his body, Leaf knew he wouldn’t be able to catch him.
“Oh my God!” Tristan fell to his knees and drew his brother into his arms. Panic surged when he saw his bloodied hands. “No, no, no …” He quickly tore Milo’s shirt that was tied around his waist and pressed it against the gunshot wound on his back.
“Call 911!” he yelled, applying pressure to the fabric on Milo’s wound.
Leaf hastily reached for his phone and dialed emergency services. He heard a woman on the other end, but as he watched the blood seeping through the checkered fabric and spreading on the street in a dark red pool, words failed him.
As Milo stared at Tristan with a pained expression, his breath grew shallower. Terror was evident all over his face, and the fear in his eyes sent a cold shiver down Leaf’s spine. He didn’t need to be a doctor to recognize what was happening here.
Tristan continued to press the shirt against Milo’s back, stroking his face with his other hand while softly whispering to him. When he noticed Leaf holding the phone to his side, he erupted like a volcano. “Leaf! Come on!”
The blockade broke, and Leaf put the phone back to his ear. Suddenly, the words flowed out of him, and after he rattled off the address, he screamed at the woman on the other end to hurry. When she asked him to stay on the line, he set the phone down and knelt beside Milo.
The shirt Tristan used as a makeshift bandage was already soaked with blood. Leaf then removed his own shirt, which he wore over a T-shirt, and took over the task of applying pressure.
“Please, bro. Hang on. We’re taking you to the hospital.” Tristan’s hands trembled, his voice quivered, and tears streaked his face.
As Milo slowly closed his eyes, Leaf shook him. “No, Milo. Stay with us. Stay awake.”
But Milo’s eyes remained closed.
Time stood still.
No wind blew.
Silence set in.
Tristan leaned over his deceased brother, clutching him even tighter in his arms and sobbing so bitterly that it ripped Leaf’s heart into shreds.
A wave of grief he hadn’t anticipated overwhelmed him.
The world around him seemed to spin faster and faster.
His heart raced uncontrollably, and the rushing sensation in his head became a deafening roar.
Leaf jolted, shooting upright and gasping for air. Before running his bloodied hands through his hair, he paused, hearing Tristan’s sobs.
A man spoke to him from the side.
A siren approached from a distance.
Leaf felt as though he was trapped under a glass dome, his body numb, the sounds muffled, his head empty. He struggled to comprehend the events unraveling around him, his focus fixated solely on Tristan and Milo and the unfolding catastrophe.
“Out of the way!”
Everything around him was dark. An officer tugged at his arm, pulling him aside, but Tristan pushed him away. He wasn’t ready to let go of his brother yet. Leaf went to console him. As he placed his hands on Tristan’s back, he could feel him trembling all over.
He reluctantly stood up and stepped aside. Leaf feared Tristan might collapse, as he paced frantically, never taking his eyes off Milo. Two paramedics stood by, waiting, while an older man examined Milo. With a solemn nod, he signaled to them that they were no longer needed.
Milo was dead.
Leaf felt his blood drain from his face, leaving him feeling like an empty shell. He stood amidst a nightmare that he knew was all too real.
How did I get here?
Ambulance, police, flashing lights, sirens wailing, and him trapped in a silent movie.
Time held no meaning.
Milo is dead.
This fact gradually seeped through him. He needed time to absorb it, to let it penetrate to his core.
The shock slowly wore off, and he found himself next to a police car.
“We suspect a deal gone wrong,” a policeman said.
Had he just spoken to him?
Confused, Leaf scanned the street. In the open door of a patrol car, he spotted Tristan—or at least what remained of him.
Leaf saw the toll that Milo's actions had taken. It was more than just Milo’s life lost on this street.
Like a ghost, Tristan sat there, staring into space, a blanket draped over his shoulders, his bloodied hands resting on his knees.
Leaf squeezed his eyes shut, but it was futile. Shadows danced everywhere, darting through his field of vision. Cops. Medics. Police tape. Onlookers. From all sides, they crowded in, eager to catch a glimpse of the unfolding drama.
Men and women craning their necks for a better view, their expressions twisted in grimaces and fear.
And Milo, covered with a white sheet.
Leaf clapped a hand over his mouth and staggered, his chest tightening as if squeezed by an invisible force.
Breathing became labored. He stood amidst a mighty storm, its winds battering him from all sides.
Feeling powerless, his body trembled uncontrollably as he sank to his knees, bracing himself on the unforgiving asphalt, gasping for air in sheer panic.