by E. V. White
Matt looked at him. He did not know what to say.
“I donʼt think heʼs living on the streets, I think he took the girl home with him,” he asserted.
Jaden walked back and forth, unable to hide his discomfort, then went back upstairs, leaving Matt alone again.
The lad felt his anger intensify again, just like the time he recently fought with Alex. Whether his friend was or was not in his life, his problems nonetheless continued to plague him too. He could not tell if his anger was due more to the fact that Alexʼs problems were having a negative impact on his musical career or that he still cared so much for him that he felt bad for his behaviour. He tried to shake those thoughts from his mind and continued to adjust the guitar that he had already positioned impeccably the first time: he was stalling, as he did not want to go upstairs and risk meeting him.
Alex made his way among the people and walked down the stairs to the basement where the others were already playing. Even before entering the room and seeing the stage for himself, he determined that something was amiss. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught a glimpse the new singer: they did not substitute him by letting Jaden sing, they had actually replaced him with someone else.
The anger and disappointment he felt made him tremble. He understood that he was not the most reliable person at that moment and that they needed a little time without him, but this he could not accept. He had founded the band, he had suffered writing the songs, he had sweated blood to find a place for rehearsals or the first places to play when no one gave them any credit. They had taken his creation and ripped it from his chest without even warning him. They could have talked to him. Maybe Matt was too angry, but what about Jordan and Jaden? Why didn’t they try? Why didnʼt they have the courage to tell him what was going on? He felt deeply betrayed and, without even realising it, he went to the bar and ordered a scotch.
The bartender handed him a glass. When Alex picked it up and held it close to his lips, he found the smell so revolting and sickening he put it back on the counter in disgust. It was the first time since he had first tasted something alcoholic that he felt nauseated in front of a glass of scotch. The one thing that popped into his mind was Emily and her battle to quit the addiction. He remembered how terrified he was seeing his own hands trembling as he tried to reach the door that separated him from the girl. He realised at that moment how Emily had changed his life, how he wanted to be better for her. He pushed the glass away decisively and looked back at the stage. Everything suddenly had a new perspective. Matt, the band, the new singer, it all became more irrelevant, less important.
Alex realised that maybe there was something else that was worth living for. Emily was not only a way to make amends for his past mistakes; she was also a reason not to do more in the future. He patiently watched the gig as Matt threw worried glances at him from the stage. He noticed the talent agent in the audience and, seeing his face, understood his friendʼs concern. He, though, did not feel any remorse for the situation. After all, it was his friend’s choice to cut him out without even having the decency to tell him. He decided it was no longer his problem. The chap singing was not bad, but people did not go wild as when he was on that stage. He was not proud, nor happy; he was just expressing a fact.
*
The concert ended before Alex had noticed. Matt jumped off the stage and headed towards Christopher when the manager went up to Alex instead, surprising everyone.
“You werenʼt on stage tonight,” he remarked with a half-smile that Alex could not interpret.
Matt turned white as a ghost next to him but, when he tried to say something, Alex spoke up.
“Unfortunately, I have a wicked sore throat. I’ve lost my voice,” he whispered, feigning illness.
Mattʼs eyes widened for an instant in surprise but then quickly collected himself. Jaden and Jordan, who had joined them in the meantime, smiled and heaved a sigh of relief at their stroke of luck while the talent manager studied Alex for a few seconds.
“Meanwhile, Iʼm writing the second song,” Alex added in a hoarse voice, noting that the man was not buying his explanation and bringing the attention to something else.
Christopher smiled.
“A cunning one you have here,” he turned to Matt. “Keep him close,” he added, and then walked away from the room.
Matt smiled and watched him go. When the man was far enough not to be able to eavesdrop on their conversation, he managed to utter his first words.
“Thanks,” he said in a faint voice to Alex.
Alex interrupted him with a wave of his hand before he could continue.
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you,” he clarified with a calmness that did not befit him.
“Why then?” His friend asked.
“Iʼm not a prick nor the ratbag you think I am,” Alex maintained, looking him straight in the eyes. “But now you’ll have to fix this mess without me. Youʼve let me go, so now you have to rely only on those you have left around you. I wonʼt be here for you anymore,” he concluded in a chill that had arisen between the four.
Jaden and Jordan did not have the courage to speak out or to stop him as he left. Matt simply lowered his gaze and refrained from looking at him anymore.
Matt went to the bar and ordered a beer. Jaden sat down beside him and began to stare at him as if he wanted an explanation.
“What do you want?” He asked angrily.
“What do I want? Are you fucking serious? How are you going to fix this mess?” He demanded for explanations peeved.
Matt did not answer and continued sipping his beer. He had no idea how to handle the whole situation. Alex was proud and would definitely not change his mind, unless something really serious happened to force him to do so.
“I donʼt know, okay?” He replied huffily. “Iʼll find a way,” he added, almost to himself.
Jaden grabbed his beer away from his hands to get his attention, so he would look at him.
“Youʼd better find it soon. Iʼm not going to miss this train because the two of you can’t act like adults and can’t solve your fucking problems. Are we clear?” The boy hissed.
Matt almost felt offended by his words. Alex was the one who had messed everything up, he was just tired of going to his rescue. His friend had had a hard life and his character was not one of the best, but he too had had a far from easy life yet did not throw it all away as he was doing. It was a matter of choices and Alex always chose to think of himself and not of others, keeping everyone away from him, including his family. To be fair, his mother had been severe, but his father had never deprived him of anything. That was exactly what bothered Matt about his friend: he had always behaved like a spoiled rich kid who rebelled against his parentsʼ authority. Alex had never allowed him to get too close to his family but he had lived with him enough to see it through his behaviour.
“Iʼm not the child here. Heʼs the one who always screws everything up and even now I have to be the one to solve his problems, as always,” he said, rather insolent.
Jaden smiled bitterly and moved closer to him.
“Are you sure about that?” He asked defiantly. “Have you ever tried searching your own heart?” he continued. “Alex is a fuckwit with the worst character Iʼve ever seen, but you always judge him from the top of your pedestal, feeling like a hero whenever you have to run to save him. Problem is… you always save him your way; following your rules and what is right for you. Have you ever wondered if it was really the right thing for him too?” He raged. “Have you ever thought about what Alex really needed?”
Matt felt as if someone had just pummelled his stomach with a series of punches. Why did he always have to be regarded as the bad lot? Everything he had done for Alex he had done with his heart, he had always thought of his friend first, then himself whenever he ran to his rescue. It was unfair to accuse him of such a thing.
“Jaden, we’ve all lost someone important to us but we don’t go off the deep end like he did becau
se of it,” he said, perhaps sounding too full of himself, even to his own ears.
Jaden frowned.
“You had your father; he continued raising you when your mother passed away. He put aside his pain to be able to help you support yours,” the lad answered. “And as much as you donʼt want to admit it, you had Alex as well. He stood by your side, silently, every single day of his life, even drowning himself in alcohol so as not to show you how much he was suffering.”
“He still has got a mother and a father; though he has voluntarily chosen not to see them anymore,” Matt snapped.
Jaden shook his head in a gesture of resignation.
“His grandfather and his sister were his family, not his mother. I think he’s more attached to the fucking butler than to his father,” he said ruefully. “When he felt he had no one else left, he held on to your family and lost someone when you did. You do realise that your mother was a mother to him as well, right?” He asked.
Matt had never thought of it. He had always considered him lucky because he still had all his family members. He had never even taken into account that the people who were really important to him, those most dear to him, had left him one after the other within just a few years. That theory settled in his brain like a bomb, ready to detonate – a reality completely different from the one he had known until then and struggled to accept.
The bartender came over to ask if they wanted something else and only then were Matt and Jaden brought back to reality, realising they should not have had those talks at the bar among other people. Jaden walked away to get his things from the stage and then left the club. Matt finished sipping his beer and then ordered another. He did not want to go home yet.
*
Emily stood in front of the window, watching the park that surrounded the clinic, absorbed in darkness. It was cloudy and she could not see beyond the dark outline of the trees that surrounded it. The snow had already melted, a reminder that she had been locked in there for several days. She had not experienced any withdrawal symptoms for some days now and, little by little, the days had become unbearably long. She used to believe that the worst parts were the pain, the cramps and the hallucinations. It was not true. The part that tormented her the most was having the lucidity to understand that during the past three years she had driven everybody away from her.
She had no one. Not a single person in the last three years had stayed long enough to worry about her. For a moment, she deluded herself that Alex had become truly involved in her life that he would have but she was wrong. Once she entered the clinic, he disappeared like everyone else. Not that she blamed him. After all, he barely knew her and only saw the worst part of her. She could not have expected him to endure everything that had happened. He was not a saint, nor a martyr. She had not demonstrated to him anything about her that was worth staying for.
She felt lost, alone and not at all convinced to have the strength to start over, although everyone in the centre told her otherwise. They kept saying it was not true, but she felt that all those years of addiction had emptied her. That semblance of life she had experienced during the first hours after the crisis had ended had slowly faded when lucidity began to take possession of her mind and she realised that the bottom she had reached was deeper and darker than she had imagined.
She stared at the garden, unable to sleep as a thousand thoughts freely danced in her mind. It took a while but she finally became aware that the figure moving in the garden in front of her window was a person. Only when he stepped out of the shadows of a tree was she able to identify him. She could not see his face very well but she could recognise those hands tucked inside the pockets and that scruffy hair over the head among thousands. He was looking towards her window. She wondered how long he had been there and if he could see her even if the lights in her room were off. She decided to go downstairs in the common room that looked out on the same side of the garden; from there, she could certainly see him better. She did not mind not being able to talk to him. It was enough for her to see him, to confirm that he was not just a figment of her imagination nor a vision that her brain had singled out from her hidden desires.
Alex was freezing outside in the garden. When he left the club and took a taxi to get to the clinic, it had seemed like a great idea. However, it did not seem to be so anymore. He knew that if he had been drunk he would have tried to get inside and go to Emily but, being sober, he acknowledged the fact that he would have got in trouble if he had tried. At that moment, he understood how many times alcohol had assisted in his thoughtless acts, often getting him in trouble. He also began to appreciate the many times Matt had struggled to come to his rescue.
He looked at the window in Emilyʼs room; it was just a dark and lifeless frame. Maybe she was sleeping in the room, maybe not. Maybe they had already dismissed her or she had simply run away because she did not want to stay there. He realised that although he had been given a second chance with her, he wasted it by repeating the same mistake hemade with Audrey: he distanced himself at the first sign of difficulty and thought only of himself. He recognised how much he missed Emily and how much he needed to know her.
He went back and forth for a while, unable to convince his legs and his heart to leave that place, go home, sleep on it and try to come back the next day like a normal person.
When he finally decided that it was the best thing to do, he noticed a person at one of the windows on the ground floor. His heart raced and a smile materialised on his face when he saw Emilyʼs serious face. He walked towards her slowly, hesitantly. He had abandoned her. What did she have to say when he reached her? How would she react? At every step, his hope that he was not a complete failure became more concrete because she did not run away. Rather, her face relaxed as she saw his figure come closer.
He finally came close enough as to be able to touch the glass of the window and see her well in the dim light of that moment. She was a bit plumper than the last time he had left her and her skin, although still pale, seemed healthier. She was bundled up in one of the tracksuits he had bought her. She looked so young and maybe she was, he had no idea how old she was. Instinctively he pressed his hand on the glass and Emily did the same on the other side. They both smiled at the gesture. The girl was saying something but he gestured that he could not hear her through the glass. Emily fiddled with the window and managed to open it a few inches, the maximum allowed.
“I said youʼll freeze out there,” repeated the girl.
Alex smiled and shook his head.
“Itʼs not that cold,” but his words were betrayed by the streak that his breath formed on the glass.
Emily smiled.
“Youʼre not very good at lying,” she said.
Alex smiled but did not answer.
“Are you drunk?” She asked him suddenly.
The boy was surprised by the question, not for what she had asked but for the concern he heard in her voice.
“I havenʼt touched a drink since you ended up in the hospital,” he answered truthfully.
It was Emilyʼs turn to smile and not to answer.
They were silent for a while then Emily noticed Alexʼs hands.
“Give me your hands,” she told him firmly, handing hers out through the gap.
Alex looked puzzled at first. Then, when he understood her intention, he hesitated. It was something he was not used to doing. He had sex with dozens of girls but had never dared take their hands, caress their fingers or even establish a simple connection. It was too intimate of a gesture and led to the establishment of a personal connection that went beyond the physical relationship.
“Trust me,” Emily insisted, sensing his hesitation.
Alex looked into her eyes and the sincerity he read in them was enough to make all his aversion collapse. He reached out through the crack in the window and shivered at the warm touch of her small hands wrapping his. Her fingers were so thin and fragile around his, which, on the contrary, were callous and experienced. The warmth of
her hands was not enough to warm him, but it was enough for Alex to feel more alive than ever. For that reason, his heart almost jumped from his chest when Emily knelt on the other side of the window to help warm his hands by breathing on them. No one had ever paid so much attention to him, nor had never worried about him as to do such a loving gesture that it almost seemed unreal to him.
They stayed like that, without speaking, for what seemed like an eternity until an attendant who was on night duty noticed Emily and made her go back to her room. He promised her that he would return to take her home, and he would. Now, he had no doubt that it was the right thing to do.
Emily was preparing her bag to be finally discharged from the clinic. Three weeks had passed since she was admitted. At first, she believed that she was going to die inside; then she started to understand that it was not so. She also thought she would have had to do it on her own, but even that idea she had to reassess. Alex promised he would come back for her and did. When it was time for her to start a new life, she found Alex waiting for her, giving her a place where she could start over.
At that instant, Alex entered the room, bringing her back to the real world. He simply smiled and Emily noticed once again that he was not the talkative type. She did not mind, as she wasnʼt either; she did not like making small talk just to fill the air with words. She often preferred silence.
“Iʼm almost done,” she said putting the last things he bought for her in a bag. “Thanks for the clothes. As soon as I find a job, I’ll repay you,” she added, noting that she had bought nothing herself of what she was wearing.
Alex sat on the bed and briefly looked at her, smiling.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anything back?” He argued.
“Until I’m sure you won’t accept any of my money,” she returned stubbornly.
“I swear Iʼve never met anyone more difficult than you,” he pointed out without losing his smile. “Okay, you want your independence so you make me sweat for trying to lend you a hand.”