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“It’s the goddamned press that’s bothering me. My hospital stay is all out there for everyone to know about.”
“So? Who gives a fuck? You sure live like you don’t.” Lighting up a cigarette, he looks at me out of the corners of his eyes.
“Really, Ares?” He knows I hate that he smokes. “Our father lost his life because of that shit, and that should be lesson enough for the both of us.”
Putting the cigarette out, he says, “Yeah, and what about your binge drinking? Do you think that won’t end up killing your ass, bro? Because the other night could have been your last if it weren’t for people coming to your rescue. There won’t always be people around when you pull one of your stunts.”
How is this us right now? We used to be close. He was Lucy’s best friend, and the three of us would spend a lot of time together, having fun.
We used to write music and perform together in little digs and dumps. But we loved it.
He is the one I wanted with me as we followed our dream of making music.
But since this band started, he is drifting further and further apart from me. Just another thing to hate about this life. It is taking my baby brother away from me.
But he’s right, and I can admit that. “I know I need to make some drastic changes. And I think it’s time.”
“How? Explain how you’ll change. Because I don’t think you can do it. Not with the way you have acted since we started this whole thing. Because if you haven’t noticed, none of us have gone off the deep end like you have.”
I have changed a hell of a lot since joining the band and going on the road, but it was out of necessity, not on a whim. Except none of the other guys know this. They can’t.
“You know what, Ares? You’re right. I’m a fuck up. So, it’s time I grow up. I’m the front man, the face of the band, and people had expectations about how I should be, but it’s time to just man the fuck up and act like an adult.”
“You’re crazy. I mean, I knew you were nuts, but this is batshit crazy levels. You are not a fuck up.”
I think about Ty and how he said no press is bad press. “People like it when I fuck up. They crave it. So, I give it to them.”
“What you’re saying is that this band is only successful because you like to drink too much, screw too many women, and party like there’s no tomorrow?”
“I don’t like it. I have to do it. Can’t you see, bro?” I shake my head. “I’m the face of the band. It’s up to me to sell an image.”
“Wow. You certainly think a lot of yourself. I mean, I know that no one wants us to play any of the songs we wrote together. They want us to do the songs they bought from other writers. But we are a team. It’s not like they looked at you and said, ‘Yeah, he’s the one who will make this band work.’”
“No. But I was willing to do anything to make this band popular. What I do, the nonsense, the foolishness, it makes headlines and people want to see more of the idiot I can become. And I am sick and tired of being that for the fans of this band. But I know as long as we are here, I won’t ever be allowed to stop.”
“Like you want to stop, Lo. Is someone there every night forcing you to drink and pop pills? No. That’s on you! And when you start taking ownership of your actions, then you might begin to learn that, in reality, you march to the beat of your own drum, and no one else can make you do a damn thing.”
Tapping my fingers on the railing of the balcony, I look out at the city lights and think about the little girl I saw today. “You’re right. And it’s time I make some serious changes.”
“I know I’m right.”
I sigh. “I miss Mom and Dad.”
His demeanor changes from confrontational to sad. “Losing them fucked us both up in many ways.
“It wasn’t easy for Mom to take care of us after Dad died,” I recall those hard times and pain radiates inside my heart for our mother.
“I know she had a hard time. But we did our part to be good kids,” Ares says quietly, looking into the horizon.
I’m just glad she isn’t here to watch what I have become. A sold-out. A drunk.
A fuck up.
Knowing Lucy has been raising my little birdie alone, like my mom did with us, and she has been witnessing my behavior all these years makes me sick to my stomach.
My little birdie will soon be old enough to understand what goes on around her. Is this the example I want to set for her? What kind of role model do I want her to have?
Hell, no! She should learn what a real man is and how a woman should be treated. She should grow up and know her dad is a stand-up guy, someone she can be proud of.
