Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
“What in the blue hell do you mean you’re leaving?” Eddie snarled. The tiny back room of the club was packed with not only their equipment cases and five people, but a plethora of extra supplies that cramped the space and made it hard to breathe.
But Benji wasn’t backing down from Eddie’s temper, or from the shock oozing off his band mates. “I have a family emergency, and I have to go home.”
“It is your parents?” Danielle asked.
“No, it’s Van.” Benji didn’t even know how to describe it when he had no idea what was happening. All he did know was even if he stayed put, he’d never make it through a full set without breaking down. His chest ached with uncertainty and fear, and he needed to be with his boyfriends.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know, but it’s bad.”
“How bad?”
“Joshua pulled him out of the ocean in fucking December bad.” Benji was getting tired of the questions. He didn’t have to explain himself, not with this.
“You’re supposed to be on that stage in forty minutes,” Eddie said.
“Redo the set so it’s all female vocals and Danielle can carry you. You did it before last March when I had that head cold and couldn’t sing for three days.”
“You want Fading Daze to be a three-man band from now on? That it?”
Benji bristled under the vague threat. “What I want is for my decision to be respected. Someone I love very much is in a bad place, and I need to help him. The timing sucks, but I have to do this.”
Eddie glared. “Do what you gotta do, then, kid.”
He bit back the very real urge to tell Eddie to go fuck himself. Instead, he turned to face the wrath of his band mates. Only no one else seemed pissed off. Concerned and confused, maybe a little disappointed, but not mad. “I’m sorry, guys.”
“Go be with him,” Danielle said. “Let us know what’s going on.”
“Yeah, man.” Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. “Hope he’s okay.”
Benji blinked back grateful tears. “Thank you. Break a leg?”
After another round of apologies, Benji split for the back of the club, already calling up the Uber app so he could get to the airport.
He used the emergency credit card his parents had given him to buy a one-way ticket to the Salisbury airport.
The airfare was more expensive than flying into BWI or Philadelphia, but Salisbury put him a hell of a lot closer.
Forty minute cab ride, versus two-and-a-half hours.
Joshua texted him frequent updates.
Got V dressed and in bed.
He drank some water. Sleeping now.
I’m going to lay down with him. See you soon.
V’s restless. I can’t sleep either. Love you.
When his tiny, deathtrap of an airplane finally set down in Maryland, he had a message from Danielle: Concert went great, set turned out fine, Eddie’s calmed down. He texted back his thanks, then went about the fun task of getting a taxi at midnight.
He used the credit card again to pay for the incredibly high taxi fee; he’d pay his parents back for the expenses. All that mattered was getting up that flight of stairs and into the apartment that was starting to feel like home.
It shouldn’t have surprised him to find Melody, Adrian, and Lincoln all camped out in the living room, snacking on popcorn and playing Monopoly.
Benji waved, but didn’t stop for proper greetings or hugs.
He charged straight for the bedroom’s mostly shut door.
A shaft of light from the living room was enough to make out two lumps on the bed, one curled tightly around the other.
Even asleep, Van looked tormented. His eyes were shut tight, his lips pinched.
One hand was twisted in the sheet, while the other clutched at his chest. Joshua had an arm slung over him, his face pressed into the back of Van’s neck.
Benji had missed this—seeing them together, in person. He hated the reason he was back.
Unsure what else to do, Benji shed his coat and shoes, and then slid into bed facing Van.
He barely had enough space to wiggle in close without falling off.
Van released the sheet, and even asleep, reached for Benji.
Found his hand and held tight. A tiny bit of worry unfurled with the contact—enough to let Benji close his eyes and relax for a while.
He woke to hints of sunlight behind the bedroom curtain and Van’s head pillowed on his shoulder, still asleep but somehow less upset.
The lines around his eyes and mouth had smoothed out; he almost looked peaceful.
The other side of the bed was empty, but before Benji could wonder why, Joshua appeared in the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hand.
Van didn’t drink coffee, so Joshua had either brought his Keurig over from the other house, or he’d bought one for this place. The fragrant brew from his mug wafted over to Benji and helped wake him up more.
“When did you get in?” Joshua whispered.
“About one, I think.” Benji traced a finger across Van’s stubbled jaw. “Has he said anything else?”
“Nothing.”
“At least he’s warm and safe.”
Joshua nodded and sipped his coffee. “Finding him in the ocean like that, though? I don’t think I’ve ever been so freaked out.”
Benji hated leaving Van’s side, but Joshua’s broken tone urged him out of bed. He slung his arms around Joshua’s neck and hugged him, careful of the coffee. Joshua held him with one arm, his chin on Benji’s shoulder.
“How mad were they?” Joshua asked.
“Eddie was pissed. He practically threatened to kick me out of the band, but Danielle said the show still went great, so he calmed down. Everyone else was sympathetic, even Bobby.”
“I’m sorry you missed your show.”
“I’m not. I need to be here, for you and for Van. If we’re a triad, we have to handle crises together, right?”
“Yeah. I wish I knew what happened yesterday, you know?”
“I know.”
“Benji?” Van’s voice startled them both into jumping apart.
Joshua sloshed coffee on his hand but didn’t seem to notice. Van sat up slowly, rubbing the heel of one hand into his eye. Awake and aware, and Benji’s heart trilled.
“Hey, you.” Benji climbed into bed and pulled Van into a tight hug, relieved when Van hugged him back. The mattress bounced, and then Joshua was there, holding them both.
“What are you doing here?” Van asked.
“Came to see you. Joshua said you had a bad day yesterday.”
Van shuddered.
“You don’t have to tell us right now,” Joshua said. “I’m happy that you’re talking to us again. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” Van rested his head on Joshua’s shoulder, so young and vulnerable in that moment. “So sorry about yesterday.”
“It’s okay. When you’re ready, I hope you’ll tell us what happened. You hungry?”
“Yes. But that requires moving.”
Benji didn’t want to leave their huddle of love and support either, but he was kind of starving, too. “We can cuddle more after we eat. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds good.”
They disentangled and wandered into the kitchen. Benji plunked Van directly into a chair and poured him some juice. Joshua went about fixing them all toast with sliced avocado and raw honey. Fruit on the side.
“Good God, you’re rubbing off on him, Van,” Benji teased. “Joshua used to think a healthy breakfast was a toaster pastry on the go.”
Joshua wiggled his eyebrows. “I like it when Van rubs off on me.”
The corners of Van’s lips tilted into something close to a smile. “I like that too.” He nibbled at his toast with no enthusiasm, but he did drink all the juice. “So how many people did I freak out?”
“Pretty much everyone,” Joshua replied. “When you didn’t show up for work, Beatrice called me. The phone chain expanded from there.”
“How did you know I’d go to the beach?”
“You told me once it’s one of your favorite places to clear your head. Do morning yoga.”
Van grunted. “Or to freak out where no one can find me.”
“Yeah, well, next time don’t freak out in Arctic water, okay?”
“Deal. I don’t remember the cold.”
“You were deep into your own head at that point.”
“I didn’t lash out, though, right?” Van’s eyes widened. “I didn’t hurt you trying to protect myself, did I?”
Joshua squeezed his wrist. “You didn’t lay a finger on me, I promise. You barely reacted. It was like you were in shock, but none of us know why.”
Van pushed his chair away from the table, but he didn’t stand. He stared at his hands, which he clasped in his lap, head bowed. Benji watched him, silently pleading to tell them what was wrong so they could help him fix it. “It’s a long story with a very tragic ending.”
“Will you tell us?” Benji asked. “Please?”
Van exhaled a long, slow breath. “I didn’t have many friends growing up.
Not the real, close kind that stick with you.
I was kind of shy, believe it or not. I was fifteen when I first discovered how much I loved bluegrass and blues, so I saved up all the extra money I earned doing odd jobs around town to buy a used guitar. ”
Benji looked at Joshua, who seemed as surprised as he was. Van had mentioned he played a long time ago, but had given it up. He also hadn’t wanted to talk about why.
“I taught myself how to play by listening to tapes and watching public television,” Van continued.
His voice took on a faint twang the more he spoke, as if falling back in time to when he lived in Texas and probably had a thicker accent.
“I loved it. Music was my outlet, and I even performed at church and at holiday picnics.
It was real nice, knowing I did something no one else could.
It also made my awful home life a little more tolerable.
And then my senior year, he moved to town.
“His name was Brady Gibbons. His family came from Austin, and he played guitar too, so we bonded fast. I was shocked that such a put-together guy wanted to hang with a hayseed like me, but we had a great time together. In winter, we’d go play in the barn so we didn’t annoy my parents. I think the pigs kind of loved it.