by Ava O'Shay
“This is a once in a life time opportunity. Leave. Come back if it doesn’t work out. Go, Quill. See the world. See there is more than the lot we’ve been given.”
“It’s a tour of small clubs in a tri state area. I doubt I will get the chance to see the world in that area.”
“Go, Quill. I’ll be fine. Go.”
Quill pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ll think about it.”
.thirty-four
Quill Diaz
December 1
2:45 p.m.
“You’re a YouTube sensation.” Assad held Quill’s phone up so Quill could see them singing the Mumford and Son’s song.
“So are you. That’s your ugly mug in the video, too.” Quill propped his feet up on a stool in the practice room. Assad had been acting odd since he began scrolling through Quill’s phone, watching the videos from their performance.
“He’s so hot, I would drop my panties for him.” Assad began to scroll over the comments. “I’ve never heard a voice more amazing.”
“Knock it off.” Quill swiped at the phone, but Assad raised his arm so he couldn’t reach. “He’s so yummy,” Assad said in a girl voice. “I just want to eat him up.”
Quill tackled Assad, grabbing the phone and wrestling it away from him. Assad flipped Quill on his back and held him down. Quill stopped his struggling and looked up at Assad.
Assad’s expression was melancholy as lowered his mouth to Quill’s and gave him a long, sweet kiss. “He’s so hot, I could eat him up,” Assad whispered. “You are going to have an issue on tour aren’t you?”
Quill rolled his eyes.
The phone buzzed in Assad’s hand. He sat back, holding Quill to the floor. He brought the phone up and swiped it with his finger. His eyebrows knitted together. Assad dropped the phone on Quill’s chest and got up.
“Were you going to tell me?” Assad’s voice was tense as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Tell you what?” Quill sat up and leaned against the opposite wall. “Stop with your stupid games. It’s annoying.”
“Are we having our first fight?” Quill quipped. “I think I’m breaking up with you.”
“Oh.” Quill frowned. He’d been joking, but Assad didn’t look like he was.
“I wanted a commitment.” Assad leveled him with a stare. “I thought we were together.” “You want a commitment?”
“Stop repeating what I say!” Assad yelled.
“Sorry. Sorry. But when did we hit the commitment part of the day?” “I said wanted you ass.”
“So you are breaking up with me?” Quill stood, dumbfounded by this entire conversation. “I’m not sure I’m even comfortable using the term breaking up.”
“I wanted a commitment that you weren’t screwing random girls. We’re going on tour next month with girls throwing themselves at you and I can’t even trust you here.”
Quill held up a hand, stopping him. “Clarify that last statement. You can’t trust me?” “You’re a YouTube sensation. The label wants to take advantage of the hype. Of the girls being in love with the mysterious, sad singer who needs some attention. I thought I was giving you attention.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Quill shook his head. “Weren’t we just making out on the floor?”
“That was before,” Assad said.
“And you’re breaking up with me now?” Quill wasn’t sure how he felt about Assad wanting to break up what they had. He wasn’t sure what it was they had, but breaking up made him feel sick to his stomach. He knew this was coming. Had told Ren it wouldn’t work but he’d moved forward anyway and now all his fears were coming to fruition and he didn’t even know why.
“Yeah. If you can’t control yourself here, how can I trust you when you become a rock star?”
“So what? You’re asking me to abstain from all the stuff that makes being a rock star—a rock star?” Quill joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“No. I’m breaking up with you because you’re a lying sack of shit.”
Quill rubbed his chest. He had stayed away from all of his vices for the week they had been hanging out. If you didn’t count his one slip up, he’d been completely clean. But without Assad, he wasn’t sure he could promise he wouldn’t go back to his old ways. In fact, he could probably guarantee he would find drugs and a girl in the next few hours if Assad was serious.
Assad gave him a sideways look. “Look at your phone.”
Quill picked up his phone and turned it on. A text blinked at him. It wasn’t a number he knew. He opened the text and a picture of him naked and beaten with Anna straddling him filled the screen, with the words ready to go anytime, written under it. God, his breakfast was threatening to come back up.
“I didn’t… “ Quill didn’t know what he didn’t. What he did know was he did have sex with her.
“I don’t need to know what happened. I thought we had something. I was wrong so I’m out.”
“It wasn’t like that. I was upset.” Quill put his head in his hands. He didn’t want this to be happening. “Ren was in the hospital. I’d just confronted Brock and had my ass handed to me… “ Please don’t do this. He chanted in his head.
“When people are upset, they go to the ones who love them. Not to a girl who will let him fuck her.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He knew when he chose to bang Anna that he was pushing Assad away. He just didn’t know it would hurt so bad.
“Look, there’s a lot of temptation on the road. The bus will be small. Cori will be with us, just figured it was best to nip it in the bud. I don’t want to deal with this shit out there.”
“Nip it in the bud?”
“I’d rather cool things down now than to get hurt later. We should end this as friends.” Assad rubbed his chin, not meeting Quill’s stare.
“Because there’s a lot of temptation on the road.” Quill attempted to keep his voice even when what he really wanted to do was scream. “Because you think I’ll do it again?”
“I have no doubt you’ll do it again.” Assad fiddled with a guitar. “Because you’re an expert,” Quill said flatly.
“No, because I thought I was enough, and now I know I’m not.” Quill let out a shaky breath. “You are more than I deserve.”
Assad shrugged. “I am. I deserve someone to love me like I love them. I’m not playing with your shit.”
“I do love you. I’m just not what you need.” Quill tried to keep the desperate tone out of his voice. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t in control of when a relationship of sorts came to an end, and he didn’t like it at all.
“God stop with the self-deprecating shit. You are who you want to be. You want to be a broken little boy and use that as your excuse for your fuck ups and mope around never being happy then be my guest.” Assad ran a hand over his face. “But I’m not going to be a part of this push and pull you got going on. Either you’re in or you’re out, and that picture tells me you’re out.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Assad’s expression fell. “Yeah. You’re sorry you got caught.”
Quill didn’t like this needy person he’d become. “I don’t think you were all that in either. One mistake and you toss me. What were you doing, just waiting for me to screw up so you could end it and not tarnish your rep?”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with me. “
“It has everything to do with you. Maybe if you were there for me I wouldn’t be banging girls.” The guilt of what he’d done was killing him. It was almost a relief to have it out there. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d thought maybe Assad would overlook it.
He’d been gravely mistaken.
“Yeah I wasn’t the one at the hospital all night with you,” Assad mumbled. “Don’t do this. It was a mistake. I’m going to make mistakes.”
“Which is why I’m breaking up with you.”
“I won’t let it happen again. It doesn�
�t matter if we’re together or not. Bathroom fucks don’t work for me anymore.”
Assad stared at him. “I’m not staying with you because bathroom fucks don’t work for you anymore.” He looked up at the ceiling and growled. “Jesus, Quill. You can’t help it. You are relying on me to keep you straight, and I can’t do it. I can’t go on the road with you and feel crappy when you cave again and again. Then not only will I hate you because you slept with someone else, but I will have to ride on a bus with you shoving it in my face. And I’ll hate myself for not being strong enough to let you go. I got to let you go now before I get in too deep.”
“I don’t—I won’t.”
Assad got up. “It’s too late. I concede. I’m out.”
“But I… .” Quill got up and grabbed Assad’s hand. “I don’t want to break up.” “I’m not sure anyone has that kind of restraint. You’ll be on a bus with a bunch of groupies and alcohol at your fingertips. You couldn’t even keep it in your pants when your sister was sitting in a hospital bed. Her estranged boyfriend had to bring her home. Where were you, Quill? Fucking just like always.” He pulled his arm away. “I’m glad we got this tour. It’s a dream come true, but it’s too early for us to be that close with all your triggers swirling around.”
Assad’s words hurt. He was throwing back the exact words Quill had used to tell him why he couldn’t be with him when this whole thing started. “I care about you too much to hurt you. I won’t do it again.”
“You already hurt me. You continue to hurt me every time you question your feelings for me and push me away only to pull me back again. The tour is just going to make the situation worse. I care about you. Jesus, Quill, I could seriously fucking love you, but I can’t let you hurt me in the way I’m afraid you’re going to. I knew what you were offering, and I let myself fall hard. I got to get out while I can.”
“I don’t… “
“It would make things very complicated between us when you screw up, and we have to stay on the bus for the rest of the tour. I’m making it easier. It may not seem like it but I am.”
Quill moved into Assad and cupped his face. “I don’t want to break up. Everything will be fine.”
“You’re drowning, Quill, and I can’t let you pull me down with you.” Assad pulled his chin from Quill’s hold. This was majorly fucked up.
Quill felt a surge of disappointment run through him. He wasn’t going to let Assad decide when this conversation was over. “It won’t happen again,” he said without much enthusiasm. He knew he was a ticking bomb and could crack at any moment.
“You don’t know that.”
Quill grabbed him and pushed him into the wall. “And neither do you. It won’t happen again,” he said for the hundredth time. Quill wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.
Assad closed his eyes. “You lied to me. It will break me when you do it again, and I want this tour too bad.”
“More than you want me?” Quill whispered.
“I’ll never want anything more than you. But you won’t let me have you. I can’t make you love me as much as I love you, and you were right—if I don’t end this, you’re going to destroy me.”
“This is interesting.” Cori leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. Quill dropped his hold on Assad and straightened his shirt.
“I thought we were going to get some songs together, but if you two are busy?” She waggled her finger between the two of them then looked at Quill’s battered face. “You look like shit. Stop beating people’s fists with your face or your groupies will bail.”
“We’re done here.” Assad followed Cori out.
“We aren’t breaking up, and I’m not sure I’m going on tour,” Quill muttered.
“You’re going,” Assad yelled over his shoulder. “I’m not sure.”
Assad and Cori turned around and stared at him.
“What? I have Ren to think about. I can’t just pick up and leave.” Quill held his hands out in frustration. “And he just broke up with me.”
“Let’s pretend you’re going,” Cori said and retreated into her practice room. “Let’s pretend Assad isn’t a giant asshole,” Quill muttered.
“And you aren’t a lying prick.” Assad settled in for their session.
“Stop. Both of you. Just stop.” Cori looked at Quill. “You’re going. This is important, we have to work together. The label has high expectations.”
Quill sat back and cradled the cello against his thigh. “Why hasn’t Simon set something up for you before? You’re friends with his family aren’t you?”
Cori glanced over, then resumed her shuffling.
“We weren’t good enough. Unfortunately your stupidity added a unique sound we were missing before.” Assad said while strumming a few notes on the bass.
Quill gave Assad the finger. “Wait. So if I don’t go, it isn’t going to happen?” Assad wouldn’t look at him.
“Seriously. If I’m not a part of it there is no tour?” Quill asked. “That’s crazy.” “Why is that crazy?” They both asked at the same time.
“Your dad made me play this stupid cello. No offense, baby.” Quill stroked the cello’s neck.
“Good Lord.” Assad looked to the ceiling. “Can we just get started?” Cori complained.
“For that stupid project in Music Appreciation because I wanted to impress you, and now you’re saying without me, without my girl here—we don’t have a tour.” Quill nailed Assad with a stare. “And he’s saying with the tour I don’t get him?” .
“With or without the tour you already lost me. Can we practice now please?” Assad got up to sit farther away from Quill.
Quill began to plead his case to Cori. “He told me he was breaking up with me because some chick sent a photo and he thinks I can’t be trusted.” The pain in his chest increased after verbalizing the words Assad already used to cut through him.
Assad lowered his head. “I broke up with you because you got a text with you and a naked girl.”
Cori’s mouth dropped opened. She shook her head back and forth. “The girl was naked?”
“They were both naked,” Assad said. “What were you doing?” she asked.
“Fucking,” Assad said at the same time Quill said, “Passed out.” Cori looked from one to the other again. “When?” she asked.
“Yes, Quill. When was it you were screwing the girl?” Assad leaned forward.
Quill looked at Cori hoping he’d get some back up. “What difference does it make? I’m not going if he breaks up with me. I want another chance.” He didn’t know where this desperate person had come from but everyone in his life left him, and he didn’t want Assad to be the next.
“You have to. They don’t want us without you.” She turned to Assad. “What are you doing? Don’t mess this up for us. Give him another chance.”
Assad’s eyes got huge. “No.” He glared at Quill. “Don’t blame me for this. You messed up, not me.”
“And you aren’t capable of a little grace? A little forgiveness. I’ve never tried to have a relationship before,” Quill argued.
“I think it’s common knowledge when you’re with someone you aren’t sleeping with someone else,” Assad said. “You shouldn’t need a manual on dating to figure that out.”
“What about I like what I like and sway with the wind?” Quill mimicked Assad.
Assad stomped toward Quill, holding a finger in his face. “I never make a commitment and sleep around. If I am with someone? I am faithful.”
Quill shrunk back from his words. He knew he screwed up. “You know what. Okay.
Break up with me, because I’m done. I don’t want to be with someone that can’t see how hard I am trying.”
Cori looked like she was about to explode, her mouth tight and her eyebrows drawn together as they finished. “We’re going to lose this gig because of a lovers spat?”
“No. We aren’t going to lose this gig because I’m stepping down before we have a lovers spat over some stupid
shit he does.” Assad pointed at Quill. “Because you will do it again. You can’t respect yourself, so I’m not sure how I thought you’d respect me.”
“Fuck you,” Quill muttered.
“No, fuck you, Quill. You aren’t invested in this, so why should I be?” Assad snapped. “I’m invested.” Quill wanted to be invested, but he knew the doubts he carried around were still just under the surface, and he hadn’t actually told Assad about his past. Eventually, Assad would push until Quill confided in him, and then he’d leave forever. What difference did it make if it was now or later?
“Stop.” Cori held up her hands, stopping their argument. “Please don’t do this. I have five shows before you drop me off at Julliard. Please give me at least five shows.”
Quill glared at Assad. He wasn’t ready for it to end, but if that’s what Assad wanted, he didn’t give a shit anymore. It hurt too bad to care anyway. “Fuck it.” He clapped his hands. “So, what are we taking, and how many songs do we need? Let’s get this show on the road.”
.thirty-five
Quill Diaz
December 1
5:30 p.m.
Cori, Assad, and Quill were sitting in the coffee shop after hours of tension and arguing over what songs to do on tour. Quill wanted to clarify things with Assad. Or wanted to get as far away from him as he could. He couldn’t decide which. Either way, sitting in the booth with him wasn’t accomplishing much other than to stress him out. He didn’t like where things ended. He didn’t like that Assad was throwing him out before he ever gave him a chance. He’d been a mess at the hospital. His head had been all over the place. He’d almost lost his sister. Assad couldn’t rest their fledgling relationship on a one-time thing. For the first time in his life he wanted to fight for something. But he didn’t know how.
“What are we going to wear?” Assad asked after taking a bite of a sandwich he’d ordered.
“Not that shit you wore when you were the Devil Dog’s. Speaking of that, if I’m heading out on this tour we need to change the name.” Quill grabbed a chip off Assad’s plate. Cori watched the exchange with a hopeful expression.
Quill tried to push back his irritation. He didn’t need her added involvement in this. “How about fuck you?” Assad chewed, glaring at Quill.