Wade also neglected himself. Refusing to eat anything, he laid in his bed for hours on end while the door to his room remained shut and locked and no matter how many times Joe tried to bang on it, he didn’t answer. In a short amount of time, Wade withdrew from everyone and everything, becoming a shadow of his former self.
The only thing that Wade knew was that their bus had been stopping and going ever since the competition, but he didn’t care where they ended up. He was still too busy trying to get over the look of so many shocked and disappointed people. But the worst of it was seeing Rick Delanost’ face as his expression was one of victory over Heretic’s former fan base.
He remembered all too well his rival’s expression the moment the true identity of Heretic’s biggest secret was bust wide open for all to see. But the feeling was nothing compared to the rage within his own heart.
He felt broken and betrayed by his very instincts; his gut feeling that brought Heretic to the top, now came crashing down - threatening to bury him alive under a mountain of sorrow and regret. But he didn’t care if it did.
As Heretic’s bus hummed along the interstate, Wade pushed the pillow further into his face wishing the world would devour him and make him disappear forever.
He put the talent of a homeless runaway first and foremost, in front of the band itself, and now it cost him - dearly.
As Pete steered the bus to nowhere, Wade faded in and out of sleep several times; the drawl of hunger the only thing keeping him barely coherent. He felt overwhelmed by everything - his head, his heart, his gut - all these swirled together in a menagerie of pain and despair. He wanted to be better than this. He wanted to rise above the influx of his emotions in which he was drowning and to answer the nagging questions that lingered in the back of his mind.
Where would Heretic go now? Did they even have a future? Could they ever recover from this? All this and more plagued his fleeting thoughts like a growing sickness as the bus passed through one nameless town after another.
Even a concerned Mike followed Heretic’s bus loyally in his car. Ever since Chris’ reveal, his agent didn’t so much as say a word. He also did what he could to stave off the hungry media and didn’t give them the satisfaction of a single statement and Wade was secretly thankful for it.
Wade knew that the results of the competition weren’t disclosed yet, but he could already feel the sting of defeat. And so he didn’t check his phone or the TV and strictly forbade anyone else on the bus from doing the same.
And tonight was no different as he dozed off uncomfortably in torturous nightmares.
A fierce pounding came from Wade’s door that forced him awake with a start. Instantly, Wade shot up and reeled in bed, feeling as though he was recovering from the worst hangover in his life. He rubbed his eyes and looked out of the small window in his room and right away, he knew it was very late.
“Wade!” came Joe’s voice from behind the door. “I’m serious, man! I ain’t fuckin’ leavin’ this time until you open the door! C’mon!”
More relentless pounding and soon Wade’s stomach followed with a fierce growl of hunger.
“Ugh,” Wade massaged his gut and sluggishly made his way to the door and opened it.
“Jesus, man,” Joe commented, noticing the deteriorated appearance of his friend.
“What is it?” Wade asked angrily.
“We just pulled over to get something to eat. Pete and Os are already inside. They’re waitin’ for ya,” Joe stated with concern.
Wade’s shoulders slumped at the thought of what he was putting his friends through. He never wanted any of this to happen but he didn’t want to be seen by anyone, especially the media.
“The news crews?” Wade’s voice cracked.
“They’re gone, man. They finally gave up and turned around when we got halfway through Wyoming.”
Wyoming? Wade couldn’t believe he had been out of it for that long. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Where are we now?”
“Nebraska. Some town called Scottsblood or some shit.”
“Scottsbluff,” Wade corrected him.
“So, you comin’ or what?” Joe asked impatiently.
“Yeah, yeah. Just gimme a minute to get changed.”
As Wade shuffled through his belongings to try and find clean clothes, Joe did his best to hide his excitement. After all, it was the first time anyone had talked Wade into being social. But while Joe waited for him to get ready, he felt compelled to bring up what he knew would be a sore topic.
“So what’er we gonna do about Chris, man?”
Wade sighed while he searched for his boots, but he was in no mood to talk about anything.
“Not now, Joe.”
“What’er you talkin’ about, man? We can’t just leave her-!”
Frustrated, Wade got to his feet and right into Joe’s face.
“I said ‘I don’t want to talk about it!” he screamed. “I don’t what to do – or even where to go! Everything’s so fucked up right now, I don’t even know which end is up!”
Just as Wade got into Joe’s face, he was abruptly pushed away and knocked on his ass. Surprised, Wade came to his feet a second time and stared at Joe as if he had never seen him before.
“Joe?” Wade seethed. “I don’t wanna hurt you…”
Joe didn’t blink. “Try it, big guy.”
In a blind rage, Wade came forward, throwing both of his fists left and right. But nothing could prepare Wade for the brutal beat down that he received.
Joe expertly dodged all of Wade’s clumsy throws and jabbed him in his ribcage several times, causing him to stumble back. But it was Joe’s right hook to the gut that brought him to his knees.
Wade coughed and sputtered from the dizzying blow he received. While he held his gut in the last place that Joe hit him, he looked up, but found eyes full of anger and hatred staring right back at him.
“You know?” Joe growled in the darkness. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve come through for me – for this band.”
Wade coughed again and massaged his tender ribcage as if he had been beaten by five grown men. He noticed Joe’s scrawny frame silhouetted against the wall, giving him a much broader appearance, and wondered how they hell someone he had fifty pounds on, man-handled him as if it was no big deal.
“But when Chris needed you? What did you do?” Joe asked.
Infuriated, Wade redoubled his efforts and came at Joe, swinging again and again at the air. But nothing connected.
“What did you do!?” Joe repeated.
Finally, after another missed throw, Wade felt a hand grab his wrist and yank his arm around his back.
“ARRRGHH!”
Wade yelled in pain but when he felt his head slam up against the wall, a sharp, stinging sensation shot up the entire right side of his face. He tried to lift his head, but Joe’s forearm hunkered down on his neck - smashing his face against the bus a second time. Pinned, all Wade could do was stand there while Joe tore into him.
“You left her to the fuckin’ wolves!”
Breathing heavily, Wade could do nothing while Joe pushed his arm further up his back. He tried to move, but Joe’s grip was like steel. He felt the shooting pain continue up his arm and into his shoulder, but all he could do was clench his teeth when Joe got right into his ear.
“You’re no front man," he seethed. "You’re a god damn COWARD!”
With that, Joe released Wade, hurling him to the ground in one final insult. When he skidded to a stop, he looked up at Joe, hoping that he was finished with him.
“I could rip your throat out,” Joe confessed with the maniacal expression of a serial killer. And Wade believed him. “But if I did, then Chris would never hear an apology come outta your worthless mouth.”
Wade slowly came to his feet, but he had no intentions of doing round three with Joe. His pride was already ripped to shreds. Even when he approached him and dug his finger into Wade’s chest,
Heretic’s front man stood there and took it.
“All I’m hearing you say is “I”, “I!” “I!!”” he screamed, making Wade break eye contact first. “So, whenever you wanna stop being a selfish, arrogant, bastard, I’ll be across the street with the real members of this band!”
With one final push of his finger into Wade’s chest, Joe turned and stormed off the bus. But only when Wade felt the shift in weight did he sigh and drop his head to his chest.
He stood there for the longest time debating whether or not to even show his face to the rest of the group now, but after Joe’s ‘disappointed dad’ speech and a severe ass-whooping he had never known, he needed to come to terms with everything eventually. But he would do it after a hot shower.
And so Wade turned on the faucets and made the water a scalding temperature. In a way, he was hoping it burn away the memories, the images - the disappointment. But when he emerged fifteen minutes later, he only felt slightly better. He took one quick look in the mirror and found a red rash up the side of his face where Joe pushed him against the wall. In hindsight, Wade was glad happy he didn’t get a bloody nose or a black eye. With some remaining energy, Wade managed to dress himself and take the lonely walk just across the street to the diner.
Before he opened the door, he saw a neon sign with a few unlit letters that read Tricia’s Diner. But more importantly, Wade recognized it as another hole-in-the-wall in which he could have a quiet meal.
He pushed open the doors and cringed at the annoying bell that signaled his arrival. When he entered, everyone looked up at him. That is, with the exception of Joe, who sat and poked at his food with his utensil.
Wade cleared his throat uncomfortably as Os, Pete, and Mike exchanged awkward smiles and head nods.
“Jesus, man,” Mike commented. “It looks like someone beat the shit outta you.”
Wade swallowed and looked briefly at Joe. But to his surprise, his friend didn’t make eye contact or say anything at all. Wade could only gather that Joe hadn’t disclosed their heated ‘discussion’ with anyone.
“I uh,” Wade started with a clearing of his throat. “…I just haven’t been sleepin’ real well.”
When Wade couldn’t take a moment more of the dreadful awkwardness, the only waitress on duty stepped in and ritually brought out her pad and pencil.
“What can I get for ya tonight, hun?”
“Got any chili?” Wade asked, rubbing the hunger pangs from his gut.
“We sure do. Would you like a side with that?” she asked.
“Yeah, can I get frie-?”
Wade paused in his own verbal tracks, but after a few moments, the waitress cocked her head and leaned in slightly to hear him better.
“What was that, hun? I’m sorry - I didn’t catch that.”
“N-Nothing,” Wade corrected. “Just chili.”
The waitress tapped the butt of her pencil on the pad and disappeared with a simple, “Be right back.”
As everyone else sat in silence, chewing methodically at their food, Wade slumped in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. He should have felt refreshed after a hot shower, but he was physically and mentally exhausted and his almost permanent attachment to his bed over the last few days left him nowhere near coherent enough to deal with the pangs of reality.
Only a few times did Wade even dare to look over at Joe, but not once did his band mate meet his gaze. He couldn’t recall the last time Joe had ever lashed out like to anyone, other than Hess. Even thinking about their confrontation earlier made Wade massage the side of his ribcage.
Just when Wade’s stomach growled again, the waitress came over with a hearty bowl of chili that she expertly handled with one hand while she released several packages of saltines with the other.
After mumbling his thanks, Wade dove right in. As he began sating his unbelievable hunger, he heard a soft ‘thud’ and then several voices came through over the diner’s outdated television. As it stirred to life, Wade’s stomach dropped and he felt bombarded with knots.
“-there that night, then you would have seen Heretic’s female drummer! Is it just me or does anyone else wanna bang that chick as bad as I-?!”
Wade looked up at the television screen just in time to see Chris’ beanie being ripped off by her father. And to make matters worse, they looped her terrified expression over and over again that some nameless fan captured on their shaky camera phone.
But then Os came to his brother’s rescue. “Hey! Turn that shit off!”
After Os barked his order at the waitress, the terrified woman immediately shut off the television, but it was obvious to everyone at the table that the damage had already been done.
Even Joe stopped what he was doing and looked at Wade. He only made it through half his chili and now he sat in silence - his spoon shaking slightly in his hand while he stared at the blank television screen, threatening to burn a hole through it.
Mike licked his cracked lips and was the only one brave enough to say something.
“Wade? Hey, man…you alright?”
But Mike’s voice echoed through an empty Wade and without warning, he dropped his spoon and got up from his seat. His chair skidded to a halt behind him just as he turned and left through the doors again with his hands buried in his pockets.
“Wade? Wade!” Mike called out, but it was no use.
The irritating ‘clang’ of the diner doors signaled his departure. They all watched helplessly as he walked the lonely trek across the street and back to the bus.
Mike sighed and rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his face, wishing he could make sense of everything that was happening. After a while, he threw his arms up.
“For fuck’s sake. He acts like he’s never been in love before.”
The table remained eerily silent. Mike gestured for a hint, but received none.
“Well? Hasn’t he?” he asked.
Mike looked desperately to everyone, but only when he locked eyes with Joe did he shake his head - his dreads barely moving in response. Mike then grasped the seriousness of the situation and rubbed his forehead.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
Joe sighed, “I wish I was.”
As the evening ticked by, they all sat and stared at what was left of their food, unable to finish their meals. But after a few minutes, Os snapped out of his seat and threw down his napkin.
“The hell’s gotten into you?” Joe asked.
“I’m gonna go talk to him,” he answered.
“You know he won’t talk to anyone.”
“He’ll talk to me,” he finished.
And with that, Os also walked through the noisy doors leave the rest of Heretic to scratch their heads in confusion at his departure. But if they had known what was going through his mind, they would have told him to run from the bus - not towards it.
In the days that followed Chris’s reveal, Os instantly regretted his actions and everything that lead up to it and now, he didn’t even have the willpower to look up as he crossed the deserted road. A small part of him hoped that a semi would come and put him out of his misery. After all, Os would have chosen anything over what he was preparing to do.
He heard the rush of his own blood in his ears as he drew closer to the bus and he tried everything he could not to envision what the next few moments of his life would be like. Worst case scenario, he’d wind up in the emergency room. But Os knew he had to make this right, but just as he stood before the threshold of the bus, he couldn’t get his feet to move. He took a few deep breaths and then, he pried the doors apart.
Expecting to find Wade locked in his room again, Os was surprised to find his younger brother lying on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling in a dazed stupor. In fact, he didn’t make any motion to respond to Os’ intrusion.
Timidly, Os approached him and sat down in what would have been Chris’ spot.
He hunched forward with his arms on his knees, and before he could say a word, his palms became sweaty. His knee
began to bob up and down as he tried to talk himself into uttering a single syllable, let alone the dark secret he kept just below the surface.
“I-I-m sorry, man,” Os said, shaking his head dejectedly.
For a while, Os wondered if his brother had even heard him, until finally, he shrugged his shoulders.
“About what?”
Os bit his lip and continued, wishing he was in any other place besides that God forsaken bus.
“Chris,” he began, wincing at the sound of her name. “I shouldda…done more to get along with ‘er.”
But Wade sat emotionless and continued to stare up at the ceiling. He rarely blinked and hardly moved a muscle.
“It’s not your fault, Os. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. You’re my brother.”
There wasn’t a single light on in the bus, but Os didn’t need it to see his younger brother’s eyes moisten until a single, painful tear fell down the side of his face. It was clear that the emotional strain that his brother endured over the past few days was more than what he could handle. He could tell it affected him more than Hess ever did.
Reluctantly, Os got up from his seat and stood by the window, overlooking rows of empty cornfields. He sighed heavily against the tinted glass knowing that he had to set things straight. Somehow, he knew it was the only way he’d ever feel human again.
“You’re wrong, Wade. It is my fault,” he began, pausing only to get his bearings. “I wasn’t at most of the competition because I found a computer and spent hours trying to find Chris’ father,” he admitted through a long sigh. “There’s only one person in the Army from Michigan whose last name is Rebman.”
Os wiped his eyes and rubbed the back of his bald head.
“Hell, it’s so damn easy to find shit on the internet. I swear I found everything but his blood type; his address, where he works, his phone number – it was all there. And all I did was dial him up and tell him what was going on over the past year. I told him exactly when and where Chris would be – right down to the time she was scheduled to go on stage,” he confessed. “God man, I didn’t want this. It’s my fault everything’s turned to sh-.”
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