Chapter 12 #2
A sad smile graces Gene’s face. “Yeah. Um… I’ll catch you sometime later, I guess.”
“Alright.” He gives the same smile back before he reaches for the doorknob, opening it and exiting into the hallway.
Ray blows out twenty-three little candles on his cake, instantly darkening the room.
An eruption of applause follows. Carol is to his left, giggling up a storm, and Gene is to his right, patting him on the shoulder.
It always feels weird every year getting ‘older’ than Gene, though it’s not by much.
Gene will catch up to Ray’s age soon enough, his own twenty-third birthday coming up in November.
Carol is the youngest of the group, having only turned twenty back in June, a year younger than Ray’s brother Mick, who’s here visiting today.
Santiago is the oldest of all of them at twenty-five years old, and he flicks the lightswitch on, brightening the room again.
Well, actually: of their entourage, Maurice is the oldest at twenty-seven.
But he’s currently not present at Ray’s party, unfortunately.
Maurice’s partner, Kenneth, has to work the next morning, and with the two of them still living in Grand Rapids, it wouldn’t work for them to drive all the way out here to Lake Orion.
Maurice had promised Ray that he and Kenneth would visit some other time soon, though, and he’d bring the photos that they’d recently taken in the studio.
One more person also isn’t present—Toshiko, thankfully.
Gene dropped her off at the airport earlier today.
While Ray should be happy that she’s finally gone, a dark cloud still hangs over him.
She may not be here physically, but her lingering presence still is, in the form of knowing that she is Gene’s girlfriend now.
Gene will be traveling to California in a couple days to be with her.
And when he comes back, who knows whether she’ll return with him?
I almost hope something goes terribly wrong and they split.
But Ray knows that kind of thinking is hypocritical.
He can’t be wishing for Gene and Toshiko to break up when he’s got Carol right beside him.
If anything, shouldn’t he work on strengthening his bond with his own girlfriend?
Guilt plagues him whenever he’s intimate with her, which is only about once a week at this point.
But no matter what, no matter fucking what, he can’t forget those special nights he had with Gene on the Fourth of July.
He knows Gene can’t forget, either. The kiss they shared a few days ago confirmed it.
“Would you like the first slice, Birthday Boy?” Santiago asks, plucking Ray out of his thoughts.
“Ah, yeah, thanks. Thanks, everyone.” Ray smiles, gazing around at all of his friends in the dining room.
“I can get these out for you, unless you want to do the honors.” Santi delicately places his pointer finger and thumb on the edge of one of the candles.
“Go for it. Thanks for helping me out.” Ray nods.
Santiago was the one who baked this beautiful cake anyway.
Apparently Santi used to help his mother bake cakes for all his brothers’ birthdays back home growing up, and he’s had a blast baking for the Brooms’ birthdays too—even Carol’s—as long as that day wasn’t during a tour.
Ray cuts a slice for himself and sets it on a plate from the table. “You want me to get you a slice too, babe?” he asks Carol.
“Yes please,” she says.
He does just that, then turns toward his best friend. “How ’bout you, Gene?”
Gene shrugs, giving him a shaky smile. “If you want to. I don’t mind.”
“I want to,” Ray reassures. “Everyone else, though? You’re on your own.” He lifts the cake knife and waves it around, pointing it at everyone and making them laugh.
After eating his slice—and sipping on a little alcohol, too—Ray heads into the living room, stopping by the stereo. “Hey Mick, you wanna pick a new record to play?” he asks his brother. “You always know exactly what I’m in the mood for.”
“Sure thing, if you don’t mind me looking through your record rack,” Mick says, stepping over to the bookcase in question.
“Go ahead, man.”
“Alright.” Mick adjusts his glasses, then he lightly dusts his fingers over the spines of the sleeves, peering at the selection.
This is the first year Ray isn’t seeing his parents for his birthday, but at least they gave him a phone call earlier today, and Mick brought over a birthday card from them along with some money.
But Ray doesn’t mind. His parents would likely sneer at this party anyway—especially his father—not approving of his ‘hedonistic rockstar lifestyle’.
Whatever. This is nothing compared to being on tour.
“Ah, how’s this one?” Mick pulls a record out, then reveals the front cover to Ray—Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones.
“Oh my god, yes, that’s perfect!” Ray cheers. “Put it on.”
Mick removes the old record from the platter, putting it back in its sleeve, and sets up the Sticky Fingers LP on the turntable.
The opening riff of ‘Brown Sugar’ bursts from the speakers.
It’s fast paced, catchy, and a great beat to dance to, so Ray does just that.
Some of the Brooms join with his dance, while others stand on the sidelines, cups of booze in their hands.
“Shake it, Ray!” Pat says, standing nearby the TV. “Twirl those helicopter hips.”
“Helicopter hips?” Ray laughs, his hands in the air.
“Yeah, I said what I said,” she chuckles. “Don’t fly away and crash into the ceiling, now.”
“Shut up, Pat,” he says without any real malice.
Once ‘Brown Sugar’ concludes, it flows into the slower-paced ‘Sway’. Carol grabs his arm, pulling him close suddenly, and she wraps her arms around his neck.
“Slow dance with me,” she says, like a command.
“Oh… sure.” He puts his hands on her waist, moving with her to the steady beat of the song.
While she has her eyes on him, his own drift away, looking behind her.
Gene is directly in his line of sight. He has a cup in one hand, the other hand in his pocket, and he stares back at Ray.
That roguish face makes Ray’s heart flutter.
Even if Gene’s expression is rather blank, Ray can see something peculiar in Gene’s gaze alone.
Something Ray wishes he could grasp for himself.
The song playing right now, along with the entire album, means so much to him and Gene.
Sticky Fingers was the record Gene had recognized, sticking out of Ray’s bag when they first met at the bus stop four years ago.
And then all the months after that first encounter, they would listen to it, playing along on acoustic guitars and singing their hearts out, sitting on the floor of Gene’s old bedroom.
Carol tugs on Ray’s neck, zapping his attention back toward her. In no time at all, her lips are on his. It’s something that’s become a routine—kissing her—so he goes along with it easily. But while her eyes are closed, he keeps his own open, and he gazes behind her again.
He locks eyes with Gene.