Chapter 13
Ray can’t believe he got roped into playing pool.
He barely knows how to play at all, so of course he lost spectacularly.
Thank god they weren’t betting on anything.
Maurice wasn’t too great either, but he still did better than Ray.
That’s not to say Ray wasn’t having fun, though.
He had a blast getting to know Dennis and Maurice better, drinking and making fools of themselves for a few hours.
So much of a blast, he’d nearly forgotten about Gene and Carol…
Did they head back to the room?
Once the commotion has died down and the crowd has thinned, Ray decides to retire to the room as well.
Santiago is nowhere to be found, so he must’ve gone back to the room with Gene and Carol as well.
He curiously passes by Pat in the hotel lobby.
Strange, I thought she was hanging out in her room.
Ah well. He heads up the stairs, into the hallway, and snags his key out of his pocket while he stands in front of the door.
All seems quiet on the inside, so he’s probably not interrupting anyone, hopefully.
He turns the key, and opens the door.
It’s dark on the inside, with light from the hallway spilling into the room to highlight the scene on one of the beds.
Ray’s heart drops down into his stomach.
Two figures lie sleeping, arms wrapped around each other: Gene and Carol. They appear naked from what he can tell, with the blanket over their lower halves but leaving their upper bodies bare and uncovered.
It doesn’t take a genius to conclude what they did while alone together.
“Oh my fucking god…” Ray whispers to himself.
He shouldn’t freak out. He shouldn’t even be surprised. But that doesn’t stop a wave of nausea from assaulting his gut, spinning the alcohol in his system and making him sick.
Santi’s not in here. Well, of course, that means he knew what was happening and left them alone. He must be in one of the other rooms. Motherfucker.
Before he potentially accidentally wakes them, Ray retreats back into the hallway, locking the door again and shutting it. He about-faces, leaning his back against the door, and he sinks to the floor. His heart is working overtime. He pants, over and over, breath after breath after breath.
He wants to cry. He’s so confused. He doesn’t even know why he wants to cry so badly, yet the tears, for whatever reason, don’t come. Maybe it’s frustration, maybe it’s anger, but he knows it likely is one thing above all else—jealousy.
He shouldn’t be surprised that Gene finally gave in to Carol’s advances, finding an opportunity to sleep with her.
She’s so fucking gorgeous, such a sweet girl.
Ray especially adores her, but apparently he wasn’t what she wanted.
No, she had to want Gene of all people. And that’s what upsets him most of all.
All that flirting was for fucking nothing, I guess.
Thoughts pester his mind, spinning around and making him dizzy.
He doesn’t understand why seeing Gene with a girl makes his heart hurt.
It’s not like Ray himself could ever be with Gene that way, not when he’s never seen any indication of Gene showing interest in men.
I’m not gay myself, either. But with how much this hurts, he second-guesses that last thought.
Maybe, after all this time, he’s not as straight as he thought.
But either way, even if Ray’s not completely straight, such a desire for Gene is unobtainable and he shouldn’t fucking think about it to begin with.
Carol—she’d instantly caught his eye, one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen, and, most importantly, she’s a woman.
Nothing strange about that. I just can’t imagine myself being in a relationship with a man…
Not when it could ruin his friendship with Gene. Not when it could destroy the band. Not when he’s becoming more and more famous each and every passing day. Not when he knows it would enrage his entire family.
All of this gives him a massive headache. He wants to go to bed, but so much is on his mind that he knows it’d be too difficult for him to fall asleep. He remembers he saw Pat in the lobby. Maybe she’s still there, since he hadn’t seen her walk to her room next door.
And so, Ray descends the stairs and heads there. He was right—Pat is sitting in one of the arm chairs, eyes focused on a novel.
“Um… hey, Pat,” Ray says, walking over to her, trying to keep his tone neutral.
She looks up. “Oh, hey Ray.”
“Could I, um… Is there any space in your room for another person to crash?”
Pat pouts. “Not really, unless you fancy sleeping on the floor, since Santi and his girl moved in. You don’t want to sleep in your own room?”
Ray shakes his head. “I don’t want to bother Gene. I feel like if I snuck in there and slept on the other bed it would make things rather awkward.”
“Does that mean he’s in there with someone? Carol, probably?”
“Yeah.” Ray shrugs.
Pat sets her book down on her lap, sliding a bookmark in to keep her place, and she crosses her arms, shoulders slumping with a sigh.
“This isn’t going to be something that happens on a regular basis, is it?
With you two needing to be away from each other?
I’ve been able to feel the tension between you guys ever since Carol started traveling with us. ”
Ray’s cheeks burn at that. “Um… well, I hope not. But I don’t know if this thing with him and Carol is going to be a one-time-thing or… y’know. Gene’s still my best friend. It’s more just… me feeling weird. I’ll get over it.”
That’s the best way he can really describe it without spilling his heart out.
“Alright,” Pat says. “Well, if you still want to sleep somewhere else, you could try Denny’s room. Maurice is in there too; they’ll understand.”
“Yeah. I’ll try there. Thanks, Pat.”
“Anytime, Ray.”
Gene wakes up with a headache. He needs some water. He needs to pee, desperately. There’s a sliver of light coming from the closed curtains, signaling that it’s now starting to be daylight outside. He shuffles on the bed, but a strange weight on his chest is holding him down.
Oh.
Carol’s arm is wrapped around him, her head on his shoulder. It’s all coming back to him now, what they did together last night.
He had a lot of fun with her. It was an incredibly pleasurable time, without a doubt.
But now that he’s awake, now that he’s sobering up and his thoughts are becoming clearer, rubbing away the fog on a cold mirror, a fear strikes lightning in his gut.
He can’t keep going on with her like this.
He knows how much she likes him. There’s something he should’ve told her earlier, that he didn’t want to say before because he was afraid of ruining the night.
If I don’t say something now, everything’s just going to get worse.
But before he even thinks of talking to her—especially with her still asleep—he needs to freshen up.
Slowly, he pulls her arm off of him and slides off the bed, as quietly as possible so she doesn’t wake up.
Thankfully, she doesn’t stir. He grabs his clothes from yesterday that were lying on the floor, shoves them in his laundry bag, then takes out some fresh ones from his suitcase.
Then he heads to the bathroom—to pee, take a quick shower, shave, and brush his teeth to rid himself of that nasty, alcohol-induced morning breath.
As he’s standing in the bathroom, his pants on but shirtless still, toothbrush in his mouth, he looks at himself in the mirror and worries.
Carol might be awake now. Neither Santiago nor Ray were in the room, meaning they must’ve found somewhere else to sleep for the night.
He’s unsure if Ray might’ve popped in while he and Carol were passed out, but either way, even if he did, he didn’t stick around.
Nausea—whether it be from the hangover or anxiety, could be either or—churns in his stomach again.
Carol’s not going to like what he has to say.
But he can’t force himself to commit to her, not when thinking about doing so feels so wrong.
When he exits the bathroom, his shirt is in his hand, still off because he doesn’t want the fabric to suffocate him.
Carol is awake. She’s sitting up on the bed, wearing a different dress from yesterday that she must’ve grabbed out of her backpack.
Her big brown eyes look at him with hope.
And he’s about to crush it all. Oh god, I’m such an asshole for even doing this.
He throws his shirt on the unused bed for now. He takes a deep breath, schooling his features and taking a step forward to stand in front of her. “G’morning, Carol.”
“Morning, Gene.” She smiles so sweetly. Fuck. I can’t do this. But he has to. Nerves make his hands shake. He grabs the belt loops of his jeans to try to calm them.
“Do you need to use the bathroom? Sorry I was hogging it just now,” he says. He knows asking that is stalling the inevitable, but he also wants to be considerate.
“You’re fine, and not at the moment.” She fidgets with the sheet underneath her, clenching it in her fingers and unclenching it. She’s nervous too. “I had a fun time last night.”
“I did too.” Gene forces a smile, but it must look so obvious that he’s faking it. “Listen, Carol, um…”
“Wh-what is it?” she asks too quickly, before he can even finish his sentence. Oh, goddamn it.
He inhales another deep breath. “While I did enjoy my time with you last night, I… I wanted it to be just that. A fun night together. I—I didn’t want any more than that.”
She blinks. An uncomfortable silence lingers before she says anything. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that… I don’t… I don’t really want to do it again. That last night was enough.”
Her jaw hangs wide open. Her eyes are glassy, pupils shaking, as if tears are about to spill. “You… you don’t regret being with me, do you?”
“No, no, it’s not that.” He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his head.
His heart is beating furiously. “I should’ve been more clear beforehand.
But—I don’t know. What I mean is, I don’t want to commit to anything, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up that because we did it, I wanna be your boyfriend or something. ” He licks his lips. “I just can’t.”
Carol stands up from the bed. She steps closer to him, only a foot away. The sadness in her eyes changes to something else. Something with fire. Anger.
“You know, that would’ve been wonderful to know before we fucking did anything,” she says with a hiss, her eye contact assaulting. “You can’t just toy with my feelings like that.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He clenches his teeth. “I had a bit to drink last night, y’know, and the words I needed to say just couldn’t come out…”
“That’s not a very good excuse.” She huffs out a harsh breath. “You basically led me on.”
“N-no, I didn’t. You were the one that asked me.”
“But you said you liked me. That we could do whatever together. I thought that meant…”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. His headache pulses in his skull. “I do like you. But…” He drops his hand back down to his side. “You know who really has it bad for you, don’t you? Ray. Didn’t you know?”
Carol gasps. Her entire demeanor changes, anger dissipating like a bucket of cold water was just poured on top of her head.
“Carol, you deserve to be with someone who adores you. Someone who goes nuts for you and dotes on your every whim. Someone who falls head over heels for you. Just like how Ray’s been towards you. Don’t you get it?”
That lingering sadness returns to her eyes. Tears finally spill over as she closes them, trickling black with last night’s mascara. “Yeah. I get it.”
Silence stretches the space again. There’s really nothing else he feels like he can say, except, “I’m really sorry, Carol.”
She sniffs. She rubs her nose with the back of her hand, looking down at the floor. “Okay, maybe I do need to use the bathroom. Wash my face and clean up this…” she waves her hand over her eyes, “…mess.”
In the blink of an eye, she reaches down to grab her backpack off the floor, then rushes into the bathroom with it, slamming the door. The sound echoes in Gene’s ears.
He takes a few steps and sits down on the edge of the unused bed, grabbing his shirt and slipping his arms through the sleeves.
As he’s buttoning it up in the front, that annoying nausea creeps up his throat, and his headache pounds once more.
Maybe he really shouldn’t have taken Carol’s offer to sleep with her.
He knew it was a bad idea to begin with.
But for some reason, he wanted to anyway.
And it’s not like he didn’t enjoy their time together.
It was wonderful. But he can’t give her something he’s not able to offer, especially not with the jealousy he feels regarding Ray.
Every single time Ray flirts with Carol, it bothers Gene to no end. It was made worse last night, when he was doing it so blatantly right in front of him, without a care that he was even there. Maybe Gene took up Carol’s offer because, if anything, it was a means to keep her away from Ray.
Because, as strange as it sounds, Gene wanted to be in Carol’s shoes. Gene wanted to be the one who got Ray’s attention, being talked to sweetly, called pet names, the center of his desires…
Gene shakes his head, standing up and tucking his shirt into his pants.
He shouldn’t bother with such thinking. He shouldn’t be imagining himself like that with another guy.
Especially Ray—what would he think if he knew Gene’s feelings?
He’d be appalled. It could ruin their friendship, and possibly everything else about their lives, too.
If only he could just drop it. If only he could just forget those feelings in the first place, live a normal life, fall in love with a woman and, eventually, have kids of his own…
He grabs his wallet, room key, cigarettes, and lighter from the nightstand, and he heads out to the lobby, leaving Carol still alone in the bathroom.