Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles)

by Derrick, Zoey

  "They do," she says so matter of fact that it causes my head to come up and look at her. My mind attempts to reject the idea, forcing my stomach to churn. She cocks her head at me. "I'm an open book, Calvin, ask me anything."

  I swallow again. "I need alcohol for this conversation," I tell her as I rub my sweating palms across my thighs.

  She nods with her head behind me. "Fridge is over there."

  I look behind me and sure enough, there is a slightly larger than dorm sized fridge under the counter, but I don't get up. I turn back toward her, my mind going a million miles a minute with a million different questions. "That doesn't repulse you? Seeing them together like that?"

  Her head cocks at me in return, questions and concern clear as day in her ice blue eyes. "No, it doesn't. In fact, it's a huge turn-on for me." Her voice is soft, nearly a whisper, almost as if she's trying to read deeper than necessary into me or my question. "Why do you think it would repulse me?"

  "Because it's not natural," I grumble without a second thought.

  She doesn't say anything for a few minutes and I start to grow uncomfortable and start fidgeting once again.

  "Do you honestly believe that?" she finally asks and our eyes meet.

  "I can't answer that question without unearthing things that I can't talk about."

  She shrugs, "Okay then. I'll respond to that statement. Natural is in the eye of the beholder, Calvin. I have a hard time believing you to be the anti-gay type." My eyes leave her, a silent omission and confession that she's right, I'm not anti-gay, just anti-Calvin being gay. "I didn't think so. Talon and Kyle are not gay; at least I wouldn't consider them that by any stretch of the imagination. Neither one of them had ever considered a same-sex relationship until I came along. They both love me very much and they're both sexually attracted to me, but they're also attracted to each other. There is nothing wrong with that, at least not in my book. Whether it turned me on or not, I wouldn't have a problem with either one of them wanting to be with the other. But I refused to choose between the two of them, where they took their relationship was their choice." She starts to curl a strand of hair around her finger, the movement captures my attention and I look at her. "I never expected them to progress to having a relationship with each other. I just expected us to have wild three-way sex and," she shrugs, "I've gotten far more in the process."

  I don't know how to respond to that information at first. The only thing I can think of is what if it didn't turn her on but I let that drop. This conversation has already fallen deeper into territory I would have been happy to know nothing about, I don't want to continue to press it.

  "Can I ask you something?" Her voice is soft, reassuring.

  I look at her, fear and concern roll around inside my mind. "Sure," I tell her after a beat.

  "You said it's not natural. Why is it that you think that?"

  "Because a relationship should be between a man and a woman." My voice is robotic and detached, the re-programmed version coming out.

  Her eyes narrow at me. "That doesn't sound like something you believe."

  I stand up in a frustrated huff. "Whether or not I believe it is irrelevant."

  "I beg to differ with you." I see pity in her eyes and I want to revolt from it, but there is something there, hiding, that tells me she's the person I can trust with all my secrets, but I'm not ready to reveal them to her. "It sounds like a lie you've told yourself for years." She reads right into me and I can't stay standing anymore. My head is spinning with the idea that this woman is about to unravel everything I've ever thought I've known about myself. She's going to dig it out of me and there is nothing I can do about it.

  "I haven't told myself anything," I whisper, "More like had it beaten into me. Burned into my brain."

  I put my head in my hands.

  "So that's why you and…"

  Tears form in my eyes before I can stop them. "Have you ever wanted something so bad that you will let nothing stop you from getting it?"

  "Yes," she breathes.

  "Have you ever had something so close that you can taste it, only to put it in the palm of your hand and have it shatter into a million tiny pieces?" I ask.

  I hear her shift, I can feel her presence drawing closer, but she doesn't touch me, she doesn't do anything for a moment, causing me to finally lift my head. She's leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. "No," she finally answers.

  "Well, that is what happens every time I get close to him."

  "Why?"

  She asks the question I knew was coming and I scrub at my face. "I…Addison, I've never told anyone this outside of my shrink. I don't even know if I can tell you."

  "So Eric doesn't know?"

  "No, he's the last person on the planet I want to tell." I stand up and start to pace in front of the couch.

  "Why not tell him?"

  "Because…because…because I can't fucking be with him and it kills me every fucking day."

  MY conversation with Addison ended shortly after that without another word said. She didn't press the issue and I certainly couldn't explain it to her. Not explaining it to her actually made me feel guilty, which in turn makes me feel like I'm falling apart when it comes to Eric. I can't seem to bring myself to discuss it with him and if I am going to tell anyone, he deserves to be the first to know.

  When I leave the room, Casey is in the hallway. "He's not here."

  I nod and slide my key into the slot and step into the room I share with Eric. I can smell him, his cologne, his body wash. The room is still warm with steam from the shower and I go straight to my bag.

  "Was he okay?" I ask Casey who's followed me into the room.

  He shrugs, "You know how he is, sometimes you can read him and other times you can't. Today was a ‘can't’ kind of day. He wasn't giving anything away, but I am pretty sure you owe him an explanation."

  "Jesus, if I could fucking give him one, don't you think I would have by now?"

  "Hey chill, bro, I'm not trying to piss you off. But you know as well as I do that he's your best friend and I can't imagine you pissing away your years of friendship over a squabble."

  "A squabble, really Casey?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "We're not six."

  "You fucking know what I mean."

  "He kissed me, Casey," I tell him as I toss my shave kit on the bed.

  "And what, you didn't want him to?"

  "No, I didn't want him to."

  "Okay, seriously? Where the fuck have you been? He's hot for you, Mouse, has been since the moment I fucking met you guys in New York. You can't be oblivious to it because I see you doing the same fucking thing to him. You both pick up random people in a piss poor attempt to make the other one jealous, you fucking stare each other down like you're undressing them. If you can't fucking see that, I can see why he would be fucking pissed off at you."

  Casey turns to leave. "Just because I look at him, just because I pick up random chicks doesn't mean I can fucking be with him, Casey."

  "Why the fuck not?" He turns back around to face me. "Are you afraid we're going to judge you?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then what the fuck are you so afraid of?" he asks me, positively pissed off.

  "Why the fuck do you care?"

  "I don't."

  "Bullshit, Casey, you wouldn't be fucking arguing with me if you didn't fucking care, why the hell does it matter to you?"

  "Because you're like my two best fucking friends, you're both so goddamn miserable apart like this. It's time you fucking got out of your head and…"

  "Fuck you, Casey, it's not that fucking easy." I fall into the chair I was sitting in the other night.

  "I fail to see how it's not easy. You just do it." His voice is hard.

  "You can't do it if you throw up in the process," I mutter.

  "What the fuck does that mean?"

  "Nothing, forget it."

  "Fuck you, Mouse, you can't fucking say something like that and the
n expect me to let it go."

  "I can't fucking do it because every fucking time I try, or he tries, I end up a violent, vomiting mess."

  He takes a step back. "Why the hell would you do that?"

  "I can't fucking help it." Rage colors my vision. He's fucking dragging this shit out of me. "I swear to fucking god, Casey, if you say anything to him I will beat the shit out of you." My hands flex repeatedly.

  "What the hell am I supposed to tell him? That the idea of being with him repulses you? You can fucking tell him that shit yourself. I will not get in the middle of that. You'll fucking break his heart," He tells me as he crosses his arms across his chest.

  "I've already done that. Last night. I told him to give it up, that we would never be. But he won't let it go."

  "I wouldn't either. Not without an explanation first. He deserves that much."

  "You know, Casey, I thought you were my friend too."

  "Fuck! I am, damn it, but I won't watch you break his heart for no fucking reason or at the very least not without an explanation. If he repulses you that bad, he needs to know that. It's not fair for him to hang on to something that will never be," he tells me.

  "That's what I was trying to do. I was trying to tell him it will never happen, but he's holding on to this hope that it will and I don't know what else to tell him. How the hell else do I explain it to him?"

  "How about you start with the truth?" He raises an eyebrow at me. "Tell him why he repulses you."

  "He doesn't repulse me, and I can't fucking tell him because I can't watch it destroy him."

  "You're one seriously cryptic motherfucker, you know that?" He leans back against the wall, settling in for an explanation.

  "I wish I could explain it to you, Casey, I really do, but I can't, just like I couldn’t explain it to Addison. If I am going to waste the breath it is going to take to explain it to someone, it will be Peacock and no one else."

  "Then explain it to him, Mouse. He needs to fucking know. If you won't be with him, he needs to know why, he needs to be able to move on if you're so hell bent on not being with him."

  I stand up in frustration. "How do you let go of something you love?" I whisper.

  He gives me an annoyed snort. "You don't. You set them free. He deserves to be set free."

  "I don't know if he'll ever be free. I can't let him go like that. That's where this is a problem. You see, I need to set him free, he needs to love other people, he needs to find someone else, but I can't let him do that."

  "Why the hell not?" He straightens.

  "Because I'm in fucking love with him, I don't want him to find someone else, but I can't be with him."

  "Jesus fucking Christ, Calvin, you've got to be shitting me. How in the hell can you fucking be in love with someone and not be with them?" He shakes his head at me. "This is even more fucked up than I imagined. You're so wrapped up in your head that you can't let it go."

  I give him a humorless laugh. "You have no fucking idea what I've been through."

  "Been through is the operative phrase in that sentence."

  He pushes off the wall and takes a hardened stance, pointing at me. "You better figure your shit out, Calvin, and you better fucking tell him whatever it is that has you so screwed up in the fucking head because he deserves that much, he deserves to know why in the hell you can't be with him and he needs the fucking truth. Skirting it will not allow either one of you to move on."

  With that statement he walks out the door, his piss poor attempt at slamming the door is almost comical, but I can't even begin to laugh about it.

  He's fucking right. Eric deserves an explanation and I have got to find a way to tell him.

  "SERIOUSLY, you need to talk to him." Casey isn't backing down and hasn't since we came downstairs to grab a bite to eat before taking off for Miami. One more show and then a much needed, week long break.

  "Don't you think I've been trying, Casey? I mean, come on, how can I not? He's been throwing me away, throwing up on me, and you think I want to sit back and do nothing about it?"

  Casey's face turns somber. "No, I know you need to talk to him and I'm sure he's not making it very easy for you."

  I shake my head and go back to looking at the menu, trying to decide what to eat when your appetite is slowly sliding down the drain isn't all that appealing.

  "There is seriously something up with him," Casey sputters on the other side of the table.

  I look over my menu at him. "Duh. Though I can't even begin to imagine what it is, other than the fact that he's repulsed by the fact that another man likes him."

  Casey raises an eyebrow. "Likes? Really, Eric?"

  I shrug and go back to staring blankly at my menu. Casey figured it out a long time ago that my infatuation with Calvin is deeper than liking someone. In fact, it's nearly reached my soul, but fortunately for me, there is some type of barrier there, preventing him from penetrating too deep; protecting me from pain I don't really deserve to feel. "I repulse him," I tell Casey without looking at him.

  Then suddenly my menu is dipping down so that I have no choice but to look at him. "No, you don't. Whatever it is that is going on with Calvin is far deeper than superficial, and you and I both know that your feelings are not one-sided. You've seen the way he looks at you, hell, we've all seen it."

  I roll my eyes. "No shit, considering that's all you guys seem to talk about with us anymore. Look, he needs his space, he needs time, he needs…"

  "He needs to get over himself and tell you the truth," Casey interrupts.

  That right there is the crux of this whole situation. "I can't force him to tell me anything and any more pushing might just push him away completely."

  "So then what?"

  "I move on."

  Casey raises an eyebrow at me again, cocking his head too. "You're incapable of that and anytime you try, you feel like shit afterward. Is that really the best solution?"

  I shrug. "It has to be. Until he's willing to talk to me, to tell me the truth, to explain it all to me, there is nothing I can do."

  "What if the truth is something you can't live with?" Casey asks me in a tone that tells me he's channeling Calvin and not himself.

  Shaking my head, I tell him the honest to god truth, "I'll never know until he tells me."

  "What if he never tells you? Then what are you going to do, sit here pining over something you can never have because you weren't willing to move on when you had the chance? He told you he can't be with you, he's given you an out. If I were you, I'd take it."

  "You're kidding, right? After you've sat here, telling me that he needs to tell me the truth, you turn around and tell me to take his offered out. What the fuck, Casey?"

  He sighs and sets his menu down. "Look – yes, he needs to tell you the truth, but if you can't honestly tell him, to his face, that the truth doesn't matter, no matter what the situation may be, then you need to pull up your boxers and move the fuck on. Calvin will never come clean with you unless he knows that you won't run in the opposite direction. Either that or he is going to tell you the truth in an attempt to push you away. Either way, you have to be willing to stand by his side, no matter what. You're going to have to prove to him what it is that you feel for him, what it is that he means to you and that no matter what his demons are, you can overcome them together. If you can't commit to that, Eric, then there is no point and you should move on." He stands up and finishes, "His demons are dark, Eric. I've seen a taste of it and more importantly, I'm starting to see what it does to him when his demons hurt you. Make the choice, Eric. Decide what and who are more important. When you've done that, go to him and explain it to him."

  "He won't listen to me."

  He shakes his head at me. "I wouldn't dismiss that, I have a feeling that him knowing how you feel - regardless of the situation - will change his perspective on telling you, one way or another."

  It's with that sentence that Casey leaves me to my table. Where he disappears to is beyond me, but I kn
ow he's watching me closely because it's his job.

  He's right, of course. I can't keep pushing at Calvin without showing him some support, showing him that I am not something to be thrown away or trampled, but how? When? Where?

  Not here, and not in Miami. Away from the bus, the band, the guys.

  THE moment I’ve been waiting for…the time I’ve been desperate to find has finally come.

  My fingers strum along the strings, my mind clears, my body comes alive with every strum, flick, click, tap, and move of my fingers. With playing comes peace.

  The silence on the bus is broken by the strings of my guitar, strumming and tuning as I play through some of my favorite songs. Songs that always seem to free my mind of everything. Songs I only wish I could play on stage. Playing always opens the world to me, like watching a movie in my head. When I’m playing, all my fucked-up-ness is gone and replaced by all the things I wish I could have. Today it’s filled with Eric.

  The way he looks when he has his bass in his hands, the euphoric smile on his face when he settles in to play. The smile in his eyes when he realizes I’m watching him. That is a happy place indeed.

  I knew years ago, when we started this band, that playing was the same kind of therapy for Eric as it is for me.

  I asked Dr. V about it once, about why playing was so freeing for me and he knew the answer immediately. I taught myself to play when I was institutionalized. Playing brought peace within me. Like reading a good book, I could escape into the music, which is how I became so good at it so fast. Playing, writing songs, discovering what I was capable of with my fingers and a guitar was more than I could have ever imagined. It would bring me hope, bring me comfort. Especially when I had bad days, at least bad days in their eyes.

  When I left that place, one of the first things I did was find myself a guitar. Once I had that in my hands, street peddling became easy and profitable for me. Couple that with the fact that I could sing meant more people would watch and drop change into my case. That’s how I managed to have an apartment, well, the semblance of an apartment, and how I managed to keep myself from becoming a complete street thug. It’s also how I managed to get into college, which led me to the band.