2. Antonio
2
Antonio
I lean my head against the tinted window, feeling the cool glass against my temple as the black SUV I am in rolls into Shadow's Bend, my childhood hometown. My brother, Leo, had sent his driver with the car to pick me up from the rehab center that morning and drive me down here. I haven’t been to Shadow’s Bend in over ten years. I’d been too busy with adult life and my tours, content to never look back to this place where I’d spent so much of my childhood. It is…different, less vibrant, and emptier. Almost lifeless on the outskirts. Much like me.
My mind plays through memories of a brighter time as we pass by the old mills scattered around the plains, and the pictures in my mind overlap with the reality, taking me back to a time when things were simpler. All these buildings now look run down and gray. I can’t help but wonder if that's how I look at people now.
My phone rings and snaps me out of my thoughts, so I reach into my pocket to fish it out, looking at the caller ID.
It’s Leo.
I let out a deep sigh and glanced up at the back of the driver's head. I am pretty sure he's notified my brother that we've arrived. I have become someone people have to keep close tabs on now. A recovering junkie who can not be trusted. Irritation stings in my chest, but I answer the call, regardless.
“Antonio?” Leo's voice filters in through the phone.
“Yes, big brother, we’ve made it to Shadow's Bend,” I respond, unable to keep the slight sarcastic bite out of my tone. Leo hears it but doesn't acknowledge it.
“I assumed you would have by now,” he says dryly.
I remain silent, hoping he will carry on with what he has to say.
After a brief second, he continues. “You know the driver will head back as soon as he drops you off. Just wanted to make sure everything is okay with you.”
I look out the windows as we drive by some ancient stalls, tuning out what he is saying. Passing by the farmer’s market, the scent of fresh food is thick in the air. It draws out memories of bustling crowds roaming around the market and going about their day.
Yet, to my surprise, the once vibrant market looks a lot quieter. As people have moved to the big cities. I recall spending countless Saturdays hanging out on this spot as a boy, along with my best friend Henry, and a few other township boys we usually met in the streets. We’d run between stalls and sometimes knock people’s goods over.
Fun crazy times
We would sit on a bench in the corner, sharing snacks we bought with the money we earned from helping merchants load and unload their goods and share stories while watching the crowds go by. On some days, I'd sing and perform with my boys as backup singers. We’d do that until a member of my family came to take me away angrily. My father hated I mingled with the township boys and hated it even more when I sang at the market. He was a classist like that and thought I was shaming the family. But that made me want to do it more.
“Antonio, are you still there?” he asks.
“Yes, brother, hear you loud and clear.”
“Yeah, so, I've made everything available to you. I had people clean up the house, and the fridge is also stocked up. Eventually, though, you'll need to go get groceries. Um…There’s cash in the safe, more than enough cash than you’ll need. But if you end up needing more cash, call me, and I will have someone bring you some. Ultimately, I believe you will be fine,” he explained patiently.
The more he speaks, the more irritated I get. “Wow! You mean I don't even get to handle my money now?” I scoff.
“Maybe if I trusted you enough to be responsible, and not try to buy drugs, I might let you handle your own money,” Leo replies with a slightly raised tone.
His words cut deep. With furrowed eyebrows and down turned lips, I adjust myself on the seat, feeling the weight of his words in the pit of my stomach.
I feel like a fucking toddler, being told what to do at every point. Leo locked up all my bank accounts and wouldn't let me access any of it. I didn't even know anyone could do that without my consent. Why am I even surprised? It's the Amatos we’re talking about here. With the amount of money and power my family has, not much is impossible.
I know why he did that, though. He knows I wouldn't be able to make big purchases, or else I'd run out of money pretty quickly. Then he’d know that something was definitely wrong.
Well played, Leo.
Knowing Leo, I am sure he'd made all the arrangements and contingency plans just to make sure that I get whatever he thinks I am supposed to get from this experience.
“Nice one, brother. That's very reassuring of you,” I bite out, already teetering on the edge.
Leo snaps at me. “Don’t you dare give me lip, Antonio,” he warns, his patience wearing thin.
My situation has not been easy on either of us. We're both just stretched thin, trying to navigate through it all. We've fought more than we’ve had civil conversations since my OD.. Personally, I'm exhausted–both emotionally and physically. I know Leo wants what's best for me. He's been super protective of me, seeing that we only have each other now.
But I just can’t help reacting the way I do. He can’t help himself either.
“Need I remind you that the last time you were left to your own devices, you OD'd?”
“Do you know what would have happened if your manager didn't show up at your house at that exact time? You would have fucking died, Antonio. You would have died! That's what would have happened. So, don't sit down there and give me attitude,” Leo fumes. I can feel his anger rising from the strain in his voice.
I press my lips shut because I don't have a rebuttal for that. He's absolutely right. I could have really died. But that’s the thing. After this whole Cassie situation, a part of me believes that maybe I really wanted to die. I hold back from digging deeper into that part of me because I fear the answer that I might turn up with.
In a low, gentle voice, I say, “Leonardo, I didn't fucking die. I'm still here. People make mistakes.”
“Mistakes? You call that a mistake? A mistake is spilling drinks on your colleague, or forgetting a dear friend’s birthday. What you did was more than a fucking mistake! That's a colossal fuck up. You were never the type to do such stupid things,” Leo rants, the force of his voice reverberating in my ear. “Just when everything was going great in my life, you fuck everything up!” he continues.
“No, darling, you can't say that to him,” I hear someone in the background say. I suck in a harsh breath. It’s Gabriella scolding him.
Leo, no longer speaking into the phone, answers his wife, “But you know it's true.”
“That's still hurtful. Don't do that,” she replies.
“I was just getting settled in. I’m happy. I'm a father now. Everything is great. I was thinking everyone was happy. Then, out of nowhere, I get news that my brother is fucking dying,” he keeps on.
“He doesn't need to hear all that right now from you. Are you even listening to yourself? He just got out of rehab. Speaking to him this way wouldn't do him any good,” she says.
Hearing Gabi say that makes me feel sick to my stomach. How she thinks I am someone to walk on eggshells around, someone that can’t handle harsh truths. What the fuck? I don't appreciate being pitied. And being on the topic of this conversation makes me feel so fucking pathetic.
I speak up, my voice cranky. “You know what, Leo? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed up. I'm sorry I fucked up your almost ‘perfect life.’ I deserve everything going on right now. I deserve all the restrictions. And I deserve to have been banished to our hometown to recuperate.”
“After leaving that prison disguised as a rehab, I know the reason why I'm in my situation. I know what I did wrong. And I know this arrangement is for the best, and trust me, I'm not going to fuck this up too. I don't know if you will believe me or not, Leo. But that really was a mistake,” I continue.
I take a deep breath. “Thank you for all the effort you have put into helping me settle back down. And we will continue with our weekly check-ins, as you suggested. We're about to pull up to the house now. So, I hope you have a great day. Let's speak later if that's okay,” I finish.
It’s silent on Leo’s end while I speak, and even after I finish, he remains quiet for a little more until I hear what sounds like a smack. I assume it’s Gabi who'd smacked him, nudging him to say something in response.
“Um…fine,” he says.
I hear another bumping sound over the phone. Probably Gabi elbowing him. I can almost picture her mouthing to him to say more.
“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have flared up at you like that,” he says, his voice strained, but apologetic.
A sad smile plays on my lips. I really can't blame him for anything. “It’s fine. Talk later?”
“Yeah. Bye.” He hangs up the phone, but the tension remains in the air.
As the car glides to a halt, I feel an overwhelming sense of nostalgia once again. The driver parks at the front of my childhood home. Seeing the old grand mansion again, after so many years, does something to me.
Right next to it is another grand mansion. It belongs to Henry Moreau, my best friend. We’d grown up right in this neighborhood, living a few feet away from each other. Two boys of the same age living that were close to each other’s house were no surprise that we became best buddies.
I know Henry wouldn't be around now. Everyone has moved away. I'm sure the house is pretty much empty, just like it’s been for all these years. I wonder if he heard what had happened to me. A wave of sadness hits me because I'm not even allowed to contact him. Leonardo severed any contact between us.
I unlock the car door and step out, still looking around. It feels different to be back here, yet there's still an air of familiarity.
The driver pops his head out of the window. “Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Amato,” he says, then puts the car in reverse and drives away. Now I'm left standing in the middle of the driveway, keys to the mansion in hand.
My eyes wander over to Henry’s mansion again, and almost immediately, out of the corner of my eyes, I see a movement by the window. It looks like someone walked past one window over there. I stare at it for a while, willing the person to move again, but there was nothing.
Maybe I'm seeing things now because I'm almost sure that the house should be empty. I give it one last glance and decide to walk into our house. I unlock the front door and true to Leo’s word, it’s spotless and put in order. Trust Leo to be at the top of everything–the Golden Child.
My sister worked so hard to earn the approval of my father, acquiring everything she thought would impress him. She worked tirelessly, hoping her efforts would be recognized in the company.
But with Leo, things are different; he doesn't need to try too hard. He is not the kind of person who tries to impress anyone. He knows exactly what to do at any given time. He just has it . I mean, he graduated top of his class without breaking a sweat and excels at everything he touches. If there is someone who is good at almost everything, Leo is that person.
I don’t do badly at things myself. I was an outstanding student as well, and I have a few things going for me, my career in music, for example. But I’ve never been as good as him. He’s perfect. I mean, it makes complete sense that he’s the one that got his life together. He got the happily ever after, finding love, and settling down. The one time I tried that, I ended up falling for the wrong person.
——
I can still vividly remember the first time I met Cassie.
It was at her label house.
I was there at a business meeting with the label manager, my lawyer, and the pop star I was supposed to make music with. We’d all just walked out of the office after an hour-long deliberation on the business side of the music and fixing studio sessions.
Miguel was someone I’d always wanted to work with. He’s extremely talented. And when his label reached out for a collaboration with me, I couldn’t help but jump on the offer.
We were just there to straighten things out and make sure we’re all on the same page. They weren’t a big label, as yet.
Miguel reached out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so wonderful to work with you, bro. "
“Yeah, it’ll be an honor to have you on this track,” his manager added.
My lawyer left earlier that day because he had to be in another meeting. Miguel, still holding my hand, faced his manager and said, “You know, I didn’t think he was going to agree to this. I was terrified to have you reach out to him, seeing that I only make pop music. I thought he’d be picky with the kinds of artists he collaborates with.”
“Exactly,” the manager concurred.
The corners of my mouth upturned in a smile. “I don’t discriminate on any music genre. I appreciate it all. Truth is, I was still going to work with you. I’ve had it in mind for a while.” The shock on both their faces told me they couldn’t believe their ears.
And just as we were still speaking, I spotted this cute girl. She had this long, bleached-white hair that flowed to the half of her back.
Her eyes shone so brightly. They were almost purple, and I had never seen that shade of eye color before. I thought she was possibly wearing contacts. She was petite–one of the tiniest girls I’d ever met, and that made her super adorable. She looked like a dream. A fairytale. At that moment, I wondered what she was doing there. I thought she may have been a pop star too. She looked the part.
“Hi!” she greeted when she walked up to us.
I couldn't even utter a word in reply, my eyes never leaving her face.
She turned to the manager. “I wanted to tell you that my producer was looking for you.”
“I’ll be right there,” he replied in dismissal.
She made to walk away but looked over at me, and that's when I saw the interest in her gaze as she looked me up and down slowly.
I smirked at that realization. Who would want to give up this flipping gorgeous woman? She looked like she could be a lot of fun, too. So, why not?
“Hey,” she said, looking directly at me.
“Hey! I'm Antonio,” I said in response.
“Call me Cassie.” She smiled warmly.
——
My mind also drifts back to the first time I dealt with abuse from her. We’d been together for about four months .
I walked into the gym with my girl, Cassie, holding hands reassuringly. We walked straight down to the exercise area as I set down our gym bags and water bottles. I helped her get the dumbbell she wanted to start with. I began with my stretches. We both then focused on our workouts.
About an hour into the workout session, I took a water break, and by my side was a lady who was struggling to place her weight on the rack after several reps.
“Let me give you a hand,” I said to her and quickly helped her place the barbell in its rack.
“Thank you,” she mouthed as she got up.
I gave her a small nod of acknowledgment and strolled back to my workspace. My eyes met Cassie’s, shooting daggers. I couldn't possibly understand what was wrong. She didn't say a single word to me for the rest of the session, no matter how I engaged her.
But then we got home, and all hell broke loose. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, “You're a cheat. You're a fucking cheater!”
I had never been so confused in my life as I was at that moment.
“You think I didn't notice? You think I didn't see the way you were looking at that girl?”
“What? What girl?” My countenance shifted from that of confusion to frustration, because what did she even mean?
“Don’t treat me like a fucking child! I saw what you did there!” she screamed, throwing a vase in my direction. It missed my face by a millisecond and shattered when it hit the wall.
“Cassie! What the hell? What's the matter with you?” My heart was pounding against my chest for narrowly escaping that one.
“I didn't do shit with that girl. Hell, I don't even know her name. I only helped her with the weight. Damn it!” I explained as realization dawned on me.
But I'm still beyond shocked because I had never seen Cassie this angry before in the four months we’d been together. Granted, she'd been clingier in recent times, but I chalked it down to her just being her normal possessive self.
I even thought it was cute having her want to be around me all the time. But this…? This is insane. We'd had countless quarrels like this one, but none had ever started throwing things.
“Fuck you!” she yelled. Hitting me hard across the face.
What the fuck! I thought.
I stared at her in disbelief. I held my face with both hands. My jaw tightened and my eyes glistened with anger. I was livid.
Then I noticed something trickling down my face. I touched it, and it was blood. I had a cut in the top corner of my eye. A part of the vase had cut me when it shattered against the wall, sending shrapnel towards me, and I didn't notice until now. I grabbed a paper towel by the kitchen counter and wiped my face.
One look at her, and I couldn’t even bring myself to do anything. I couldn't even recognize who she’d become. Her hair was disheveled. Mascara was smeared all over her face, mixed with the faint pink lipstick she wore. She looked like a mess.
Cassie was pouncing around the house and throwing down everything in her path. She threw down the television on the wall and broke the glass coffee table. Glass pieces littered the entire living room.
“Calm the fuck down, Cassie!” I shouted. I ran up to her and took both of her hands, holding them in a tight grip. She kept throwing tantrums, but I held her til she was calm and then led her to the couch so both of us could sit down.
Any other guy would've maybe reacted differently, but there was no way I was going to lay a finger on her. She was so tiny, and I was double her size. I sat in silence like that with blood trickling down the corner of my face while she kept muttering unintelligible words that I didn't care to hear.
At that moment, I was going over my decision to be in that relationship. I had never been open to any girl like that before her. Before Cassie, I'd never gone all in with any girl the way I'd been with her. I kept people at arm's length. Heck! Some girls I'd been with couldn’t even tell what my last name was. But my perspective on love changed once I saw how Leo was with Gabi. They looked incredibly happy, and I wanted that. Then, once I met Cassie and got to know her, it seemed possible that I could attain that level of happiness.
——
The memories pull my mood down like a weight. I shake my head in regret. These are not moments in my life I like reliving because every one of them has led me up to this point. If I hadn't met her, my life would've turned out differently–if I had left her after the first incident…
I let out a deep breath, feeling exhausted. I walk around the house until I find myself in my childhood bathroom. I take a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow, I will embrace my new reality, which is being back in this small town again.