28 #2
"I just hate how it controls everythin', y'know? It becomes people's greatest motivator. Like a god. From what I've seen, there's nothin' pure about it. There can never be anythin' pure about it. It’s the root of all evil.”
“The love of it, anyway.”
“You can't really trust people's intentions when money's involved...most of the time. And when you have a lot of it, it just brings more problems. More weirdos knockin' at your door with their hands out, so to speak."
"And there's only so much you can buy and collect before you realize, it amounts to nothing. None of it matters at the end of the day. You can’t take it with you when you die. And die you shall.”
“Exactly,” he nodded.
“Also, I’ve noticed…none of this materialistic shit makes a bit of difference if you're ill. Health is truly wealth."
"Well said, Rafe,” he dapped me up. “And the people you keep around, too. Family, friends—the ones who still fuck with you no matter what. That’s true wealth."
"Yep."
He began to make a paper airplane out of the deli menu.
I tucked my hair behind my ears and picked at the cuticle of my big toe where he'd gotten polish on the skin.
It was dark out now, and all I could see when I looked through the sliding doors was a vivid reflection of the two of us.
We looked alright together. Like it was meant to be, despite a few subversive years.
"Y'know, Rafe, everythin' towards the end just felt like a long, scary dream, if I’m honest. I never really told anyone that before, except maybe a few therapists. Then I finally woke up...only recently."
"Oh yeah?"
"I was so, like... removed from everythin. A doc called it dissociation. I think I might've been smokin’ too much, which didn't help. Towards the end, I'm walkin' out to an arena filled with tens of thousands of screamin' faces and just felt blank.”
“Nothing? Not even in the stadiums?”
“Nope.”
“Mate, those nights were mad! Even the floors would shake. They still give me chills.”
“Literally nothin', bro. Especially not the stadiums, because everything was so vast it sort of faded into the backdrop and became one big blur.”
“Holy shit…”
“I know. I'm not even kiddin'. No fear, no excitement...just numb. Got any idea how scary that is? To not be able to feel?"
"Can't even imagine..." my brow wrinkled. “It’s quite the opposite for me. I feel way too much. I overthink everything.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“But, how’d you get by? I suppose the treatment helped?”
"Eventually it did. It took a while, though. A terrifying period. Mentally, I thought I'd never come back. I thought I'd never register anythin' again...let alone anythin' for you or my family. No one seemed familiar. Everything was alien, even in my hometown."
"M'sorry, mate. I never knew it was that bad. I thought you might’ve felt lost for a while after you left, but never empty. I'm so sorry, Rome."
"It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wouldn't even speak to you at the time, so how could you know?"
"You kept running..."
I watched him carefully and he nodded, eyes downcast. His eyelashes were impossibly long and impossibly black. His hair was tousled, spilling onto his forehead in short, glossy waves. I pushed it aside and made him smile.
"Hey...you want me to be honest with you?" I asked.
"Always, babe."
"I could tell you weren't all there some days. I could feel that numbness seeping out of you. You were cold to the touch even. You were beginning to look through me."
"Wild, right?"
"I hated it. I thought I'd, uh...lost you before you even left. Which, I suppose I did, if you really think about it." I gazed down at my hands, picking my thumbnail. "Sometimes it was like sleeping next to a perfect stranger. It wasn't the real you."
"True..." he pursed his lips.
"You were being drained, much faster than the rest of us."
"It was overwhelming, man. For all of us.
They wouldn't let us take a moment to breathe.
Or...y'know, gather ourselves. Somethin' so simple. It’s clear they thought we had an expiration date, so they were ruthless. We were treated more like soldiers than artists. You kinda take for granted how unburdened we were before it all happened. As kids playing covers in the garage. It was so safe. All roses back then.”
“Then the EP took off,” I added.
“Yep.”
“Then suddenly we were so far down the industry rabbit hole we were too intimidated to speak our minds anymore. Just wanted to perform like good little automatons."
“Industry rabbit hole is right. It’s like we entered some sort of matrix.”
“Ah, mate.”
"Then we were perpetually on the hook. Afraid to do anything that'd upset the powers that be, or the fans.
Suddenly millions of strangers controlled our lives, and were—perhaps unknowingly—guiltin' me into doin’ things I simply didn't want to do anymore.
Like the endless tours and events. How's a person supposed to cope with that, Rafe?
We were so young..." he marveled, shaking his head.
"And we were being pushed to the edge. Shoved from one thing to another—"
"Endless flights and gigs. People don’t realize how exhausting travel can be when you fly that frequently. Or the hours-long road trips on smelly buses. Motion sick and yearning for home."
"And that’s before you even arrive and still have to find the energy to perform. Man…it felt like I had no control. That's when I couldn't take it anymore. That's when I got sick...couldn't eat even if I tried."
I shut my eyes and winced. "Don't remind me. I'm so happy you're better, mate, but that was a nightmare."
"I know it was...for us both. You really had my back, Rafe. Thanks for that."
"Anytime."
“It all got to be too much."
"One thousand percent. I don't think anyone would argue with that.” Then, I had to admit: "But there were good aspects too. Most of the people we worked with on the road were decent. They made our careers, really."
"Yeah, I'm not denyin’ that, obviously...and a lot of it was great. But at the end of the day...your good experiences are not mine. I don't mean to complain, but I'm just not built for that lifestyle, Rafe. The schedule was strict as hell. Not seein' my family...it nearly killed me."
“Y'know...” I ventured. “I felt numb too...after you left. It just sort of, uh, felt surreal...like it was the end of the world."
“M’sorry…”
He took my foot onto his lap and massaged it. I leaned back onto my hands and savored the feeling.
"What kills me is that none of the other boys felt the way I did.
They were pissed at me for even suggesting stopping after you left.
They felt like we were caving...like it'd somehow prove we were nothing without you.
There were lots of egos speaking at the time.
Alex and I went back and forth...it got mad heated.
Then Nathan joined in, against me. Levi tried to be diplomatic, but he didn't wanna quit either. "
"So they ganged up on you?" I nodded. "Pussies," he spat.
"I told them I was done, and that I wasn't negotiating anymore. I would finish the tour of course—"
At that he laughed and raised his brows, alluding to his refusal to finish the tour. "When did you first bring it up?"
"Like right away. The second you left."
"Damn..."
"You know me. There's no way I would be comfortable continuing. In my world, everything had just fallen apart. Nothing made sense anymore, so it was ridiculously difficult to, uh... pretend and be enthusiastic onstage, y'know? I just wanted to walk away."
"I'm glad you did...cause now you're here."
"Yeah…me too."