5. Jorge
Jorge
Neon Inferno
“ Where have you been? Why haven’t you called? I worried. I missed you. ”
My Spanish isn’t the greatest, so I use what broken bits I remember from when my abuela was alive. “ Sorry, Mama. I have been busy. ”
Sonia sips her coffee from the dining table loudly, eyeing me with interest, but doesn’t comment. She knows not to interrupt our mom, but she’s creepy as shit about it too. My mom frowns at me while I struggle to come up with an excuse.
I haven’t gone to see my parents or my sister since I’ve been back from Europe, and they’re pissed. Between band stuff, my YouTube channel, and Oli, I’ve been busy as shit. Mom immediately pops off at me in Spanish.
“Mijo,” Mom sighs. “ You know I don’t like this band. You don’t make any money and always come home hungry. ”
“I make money,” I huff. “And I always come home hungry because no one cooks like you.” I flutter my lashes and hug her tight.
“Better learn to find a wife that can cook like me, or you’ll starve,” she says hotly in English, kissing my cheek before swatting my back.
I know my mom loves me, but sometimes, her passive aggressiveness hurts my feelings. I try not to let it show, though. It’ll only lead us into an argument I’d rather avoid.
I weasel over to the stove, peeking at what she’s cooked, and nearly moan when I smell the rice. Ain’t no one got shit on her rice, that’s for damn sure. “Where’s Papa?” I ask.
Now, my sister decides to speak. “Helping Linda move the furniture into the girls’ bedroom.”
I nod along, vaguely remembering that my mom’s sister just moved, and my dad’s been helping out because my cousins are divas who don’t do anything but complain. He’s always helping people, though. I guess that’s where I got it from.
I hang out with my mom and sister for a while, the two commenting on my hair and how it’s too long. When it’s wet, it brushes the tops of my shoulder blades. I say I’m growing it to my knees just to mess with my mom. Her brown eyes widen, and she gasps as she clutches the cross dangling around her neck.
Growing up in a Catholic household, we had a lot of crosses around, including the jewelry my parents wore. I used to have one when I was a kid, but once Phoenix introduced me to metal, I stopped wearing the gold cross. Honestly, I’m not sure I believe in that anyway. But my family does, and I’d be burned at the stake for saying anything. It’s bad enough that she thinks I sing devil music. I don't know how she'd react if she found out about my confusing feelings as of late.
I let Mom stuff me full of food while we bicker about my band. She’s not crazy about my career, so she insists I get a wife who has a good job and likes to be a homemaker. It’s annoying, but I’m used to this with her. It's not that she hates what I'm doing, she's simply worried about me. Sonia is studying to become a doctor. So, it's not surprising she'd side-eye my choices.
The one she really can't stand, though, is my being single.
God, she was so pissed when Riley and I broke up. Riley had really grown on my mom, and she'd been welcomed into the family eventually.
I remember when my parents hated her, though. She was a bit of a wild child with crazy hair colors, tattoos, and piercings, and I was whooped.
But then we got older, Dreadful started to take off, and she gave me an ultimatum. We got engaged and settled down, or it was over. I think she even told my mom she was planning on trapping me by getting knocked up. Either way, I wasn’t ready to get married or have kids. I loved Riley, but like I told Phoenix a while ago, sometimes love isn’t enough when bigger problems get shoved to the forefront.
That was four years ago, and I’ve been single since.
I've had…relations, but nothing serious. Music is too important to me, and I’ll admit, I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to choose between a girlfriend and my band. I’ll pick my band every time except when it comes to Oli, apparently. Because I risk my band, friends, and Phoenix everyday that I keep this secret.
I’ve got no one to tell, either. No one will understand.
This fucking sucks.
The one person I want to run to and share everything with, I can’t. Sometimes being a good person bites you in the ass, I swear.
After I leave my parents’ house, having missed my dad, I head home. While I drive, I think about all my choices this past year, wondering where the hell I went wrong. The selfish part of me says it doesn’t matter who I’m friends with. People can be in the middle of two opposing sides. Can’t they?
Maybe if the opposing sides weren’t Phoenix and Oli.
Maybe if I wasn’t me.
I’ve considered backing all the way off with Oli a few times. Just cutting the cord connecting us. It’d be easier in the long run, and I’d be able to spare myself the consequences of my actions. Phoenix would never know if I did it that way. However, just thinking of losing Oli has my chest pinching painfully, and gurgling in my stomach.
No. I can’t do that.
He needs me.
So does Phoenix , my inner voice growls. Fuck you, inner voice. Phoenix doesn’t need me anymore.
But I can be there for both of them.
I’m the bestest friend ever.
Juggling the two of them will be a breeze. I’ve done it for this long already; what’s the harm in doing it until they overcome their differences? Then we can all be besties. A dopey grin forms on my lips just thinking about it. See, it’ll be alright.
I got this. I can do this.
I might throw up.
It’s right there, scratching at my tonsils, scalding the back of my tongue.
Phoenix stares into his coffee like it holds all the answers, and Eli watches me nervously. He still thinks I hate him for whatever reason. I don’t, obviously , or else I’d never have helped him win back my best friend. Sure, I was upset with him before, frustrated, but I don’t hate the dude. If I did, I’d have laid him on his ass that day in front of the studio.
No.
What I do hate is the conversation. I’m sweating bullets.
“Nyx won’t give me his address,” Phoenix says again. He’s repeated it three times. “I’m going to have to beg.”
I’m at his and Kelly’s place, where Eli is currently living, as well, until they can make it out to Chicago to serve his terrible aunt with a restraining order. I don’t blame them for not putting a rush on it, though. That could fuck with Eli’s recovery.
“I don’t understand the secrecy,” Eli comments softly, squeezing Phoenix’s thigh.
“Me either,” I say loudly. Too loud. Fuck my dick.
“Are you okay?” Eli asks, prompting Phoenix to look up from his coffee and directly into my soul.
I might cry and throw up. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just sad that this is happening.” Liar, liar pants on fire.
Phoenix groans and rubs his face. “What do I do? Should I just fucking stalk my sister? She has to visit him, right?”
I purse my lips as if in thought while pretending I know absolutely nothing. No information here. “That might…cause an issue. I think.”
Eli’s eyes narrow on me and I hold the spit in my mouth so I don’t swallow. “Why would it cause an issue?”
Shrugging and casually letting my saliva glide down my throat, I spin the cup in front of me. “What if he doesn’t want to be found?” Oli says he doesn’t, so it’s not a lie, right?
“I don’t know what else to do, Jorge,” Phoenix says painfully. “I miss him. And now that I know he’s getting better, I’d really like to right my wrongs.”
This is the ultimate suckage.
All I want is to come clean and wash my hands of this stupid secret, but Oli’s face flickers before me. I’d be hurting him by coughing it up. Oli isn’t ready to talk to Phoenix. He won’t tell me why, either. I know it has to do with the lack of communication before Veronica’s wedding.
Damn it.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat and rub my stomach. I can’t betray Oli, but I can’t help Phoenix. I’m stuck. Hands tied. Lips sealed.
“Just give it time,” I say as carefully as possible. “He’ll come around.” Even I’m not confident there, and I’ve been trying for over a year to get him to just hear Phoenix out.
“I fucking hope so,” he growls and shoves his cup away from him. He looks so defeated.
Fuck, this is all my fault.
I nibble my lip nervously while Eli nuzzles him. It’s adorable and gross.
They’re just so in love, Eli giving Phoenix all the attention and comfort he needs. It’s right here in front of me, proof that I’m not needed despite being a lying little fucker. And honestly, that hurts a lot more than I want it to. I don’t know what I’ll do if my projections are true and I’m unwanted. Not needed. A placeholder.
“Phoenix,” I blurt. He glances at me. “Can I have a hug?”
A tiny crack of a smile forms. “Yeah. Of course.”
Oh, thank God .
I leap up from the shitty chair I’ve been sitting on and throw myself at him. It feels amazing to have a hug. I’d kill for some cuddles, but this will do. Phoenix’s arms band around my middle while I fold in half over him, my eyes fluttering shut. I can’t lose this. Hugs mean he cares. Hugs mean I’m doing good even though I know I’m not.
When I linger for too long, Eli clearing his throat in warning, I peel myself out of Phoenix’s embrace, and brush at my eyes quickly.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Phoenix asks, worry trickling into his features.
I sniffle. “Just needed that. It’s been a while.”
Quickly kissing Eli’s cheek, Phoenix stands this time, giving me a hug that soothes and rips me in half. But I cling to him regardless, my heart thudding in panic. I need this as reassurance that I’m just projecting, overly emotional, seeing things that aren’t there. I need the touch of another human, too. Need that warmth. And lately, it’s been horribly inaccessible.
So I soak up as much of this as possible, knowing these hugs will be few and far between now that Eli is here. I’m happy for them, but where the fuck does that leave me?
I’m the guy that makes everyone else feel better.
The guy who comes swooping to the rescue when there are problems afoot. I’m the guy that lifts you so high that you forget I’m still stuck at the bottom.
I guess being lonely is part of the job.
M aybe I should get a dog.
Phoenix and Eli are getting one at some point. They’re just waiting for a Great Dane to show up in a shelter. A dog would cuddle me.
I flip onto my side, tucking my body pillow between my legs. Sometimes, I miss having a girlfriend or anyone sharing a bed with me. That’s one of the biggest reasons I did so well on this past tour. Phoenix let me spoon him every night. Well, the ones where he’d actually go to bed at a decent hour and wasn’t having phone sex in the hotel bathroom towards the end.
My abuela used to cuddle me all the time. If we weren’t snuggled up on the couch or in bed together, she’d hold my hand. Always touching. She told me almost every day that I was her favorite grandchild. That I was her bebe.
People thought it was weird, but I didn’t give a fuck. Something about it was so soothing to me as a child because my mom could be so cold. I miss my abuela so damn much.
Great, now I’m going to cry.
“Damnit,” I growl, stuffing my face in my pillow, a sad whimper escaping.
Deciding it’s best to stop this train of thought before it leaves the station, I think about something else. Else, meaning Oli. It’s always him I end up thinking about.
Is he okay? Does he ever get lonely at night like me? I wouldn’t think so because he seems perfectly fine flying solo through the world, but that can’t always be the case, right? We told each other we missed one another the whole time I was gone.
It was daily.
Whenever he has to work, I usually fart around at home with my YouTube or vocal exercises until he gets off, and then I rush over to his place so we can play Magic or watch movies. Just being around him is enjoyable.
I think about the beach—how he just shut down on me and how he’d zoned out.
I caught him staring at that couple. Almost longingly, in fact.
Shit, is he even dating? Is he seeing someone on the down-low, and I’ve been taking his time away from them? The thought kind of stings.
Well, now I have to know.
I slap behind me to find my phone, ripping it off the charger and bringing the screen to my nose. It’s 11:36 pm. He’s probably asleep. Does that stop me? Absolutely not.
Are you dating anyone?
And sent.
I wait for a while, yawning and slowly grinding against my pillow because I have a random boner again. The damn thing just won’t go away. I jack off regularly. My nuts aren’t full. What gives? The obvious answer would be that I need to have sex. It’s been a while.
Michael was the only one of us to get any while we were overseas. Lucky asshole. Then again, Michael does exude sexual prowess because he’s always grumpy, and it works. People want to turn that frown upside down. I giggle at my joke.
Fuck I’m lame.
My phone vibrates, and I stop humping my pillow.
No?
Why the question mark?
Because that is a very random question, and it’s almost midnight. Why are you awake?
I grin, oddly happy that he isn’t dating.
Just wanted to know. I’m a curious kitten.
Kitten emoji
No one you’re interested in, then?
Go to sleep, kitten.
Oh. Oh. I like that. Holy shit. My dick gives a mighty throb as I stroke over the text with my thumb like a creep.
So I can’t call you bebe, but can you call me kitten?
Double standard much??
You call everyone bebe.
It’s hardly special.
Turbo is bebe .
He’s got a point. Well, shit.
Then I’ll have to create a super cute pet name for you.
Ice Queen is fitting.
Laugh emoji
That’s terrible.
It’s a work in progress. I’ll think of something.
Soooo
I’m kitten, now?
Goodnight Jorge.
RUDE
zzzz…
Fine. Goodnight.
Goodnight.