34 #2
"He emailed first—no, he rang the office really early yesterday and didn't get an answer, which is a shame. He didn't try my mobile either. He went straight to email. I think it was better for him that way. You know how he is... doesn't like to talk at all...especially not about things like this."
I sat there, tears puddling onto the table, drowning in the heat of my own breath inside my folded arms. I couldn't bear to lift my head and face them yet. They talked for a while before noticing I was dead silent.
"Rafe? Rafe?" Maxwell called.
"Rafe..." Nathan nudged me. "You good, mêt?"
I lifted my head and nodded and tried to clean my face with my shirt. I didn't realize I was beet red and openly crying in front of everyone. I was just too exhausted to pretend anymore. It was always so difficult to pretend I didn't care about that idiot.
Someone handed me a box of tissues and I took a few, although my shirt had already done the job.
Someone rubbed my shoulder briefly from behind.
It was Sal the photographer. He offered a weak smile before moving back to the flank of the room with the rest of the crew.
Everyone began to chime in, the hostility rising.
"I say we sue him. Take him for all he's worth—"
"He's just ungrateful, mêt, that's all," Nathan said.
"Always 'as been!" Alex agreed
"C'mon, just hang-on a bloody minute now, mate, " Levi insisted.
"It's RJ we're talking about here! RJ! Our brother!
That'll never change. Everyone's just a bit flustered right now and we ought need to let the situation breathe.
You lads ought to be quiet, if I'm honest. You're saying things I know you'll later regret, and that’s the truth of it.
Let's all gather our heads first. There's still a chance for him to come back, and as far as I'm concerned, there'll always be. The invitation'll remain open—"
"Precisely," Maxwell agreed. "We don't want to wish him ill. We've been at this together too long to desert him now—"
"He deserted us!" Alex asserted.
"Damn straight," Nathan agreed.
"Well, he's just being a bit irrational, is all. He’s impulsive, emotional. He's always jumping up the moment he's gotten upset and running away," Maxwell continued.
“A bloody child.”
"It never lasts," Sal added. “He always comes back.”
I chuckled dryly on the inside. That was precisely Rome.
Except, he had never done anything this drastic before.
No one else had seen in his eyes and felt in his body what I had moments before he left.
What had driven him to hit me. Days before Seoul, he had already gone.
He had been gone for months actually. When I think back to those last moments, I shuddered.
That was only a ghost kissing on me and barely enduring each night on stage.
Now I stood and everyone grew quiet. I couldn't summon the gall to say anything, so I walked out of the room, in the middle of everything.
I couldn't listen anymore. He wasn't coming back, that much was apparent. To delude ourselves into believing there was a possibility he’d return was an exercise in futility.
I'd rather go somewhere and be as livid as I wanted without anyone there to judge or notice.
Once I got to my room, I texted my mum, Rose, and Grimmy.
Those were the ones who needed to know right away.
They all got the same message, worded the exact same way.
Because they'd been waiting to hear it for a while now.
They were the only ones I ever confided in when it came to some aspects of my relationship with Rome.
They didn't know everything, of course, but they knew a lot.
And I'd been waiting to say it since November of last year when he tried to quit before album release day.
He's done it then, was all I could think to say to them. They would know exactly who and what I was referring to. Especially Grimmy. Later, when my mum and Grimmy decided to call, I couldn't find the will to answer and put on an act. So they texted.
Grimmy: "I'm sorry mate. Don't beat yourself up, alright? Don't do it, Rafe. And call me as soon as you can, you lout."
Mum: "Call me, right now. You're still my baby and I know you far too well."
Mum: "I want to talk NOW."
Rose texted a little while later and it was just a broken heart emoji. She already knew I would call when I was ready, so she didn't press the issue.
Now I jumped up and left the hotel in a hurry, unsure of where I was headed.
Our security caught up to me several blocks later and I continued to ignore their shouts for me to get in the car.
Some fans saw me from across the street, but once they registered my mood, they kept their distance and shouted my name from afar.
I couldn't acknowledge them. I didn't want to hurt anyone.
I found the nearest convenience store and bought the first tequila I could find.
I took it back to my room and locked everyone out and did half a dozen shots by myself.
Then I lay in the center of the floor and tried to smoke the last of his leftover cigarettes.
They made me dizzy and gave me an instant headache, but I kept going, coughing until my ribs cracked.
Despite my blood being as thin as water and throbbing at my temples, the nicotine washed over me like a baptism.
I got drowsy and couldn't remember how I was supposed to feel.
Truth is, I didn't feel anything. The presence of Rome made me feel so much so often that his absence had the reverse effect.
It left me numb. And I was grateful, because while others might've drowned, I didn't.
Eventually I started to thaw and seep all over the floor. I undressed and turned the shower on, then sat inside and hugged my knees. Allowing the water to pelt my head until the hot ran cold.
***
The show the next day was a nightmare. I had never been so hungover or angry.
The fury I felt over him lying to me about Cape Town was only outdone by the betrayal I felt over him breaking the news through Maxwell.
Like I was just one of the other boys who needed to be informed formally, and not a significant other who he'd made promises to right up until the moment he left.
I had no composure when I stepped onstage.
The crowd was wild, so I masked my fury as enthusiasm and shouted my way through every song, absolutely refusing to sing a single word of his parts.
None of the parts I'd covered for him in the previous two shows would leave my lips.
Fuck him. He didn't deserve the breath it would take to make up for his absence.
At least not today. But I knew I would eventually go back to covering them because the fans deserved it.
For today, I held my ground and the other boys covered for him all night. I knew Rome would watch that show. There's no way he wouldn't. And when he did, I wanted him to see that I wasn't singing for him. I wanted him to see that I wasn't sad.