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He wished they’d slow down a little. His brain was still foggy, and the lights were too bright. The least they could do was give him a chance to decide if he truly wanted to be awake yet before telling him his future was destined to contain things he wasn’t going to be happy about. Maybe if he closed his eyes, they’d get the hint and stop talking.
“You gotta stop worrying so much, for one,” Winter said. “Learn to let things happen in their own time instead of always rushing to make them fit into the timetable that you’ve set.”
So much for that theory, though he should have known it was destined to fail. This was Winter, after all and he was always going to do whatever came to mind in the moment.
“Might be time to find some hobbies too, ones that don’t involve music. Get out and have fun. Take your guy out. Travel. See shit. Live,” Winter added in almost a repeat of yesterday’s conversation.
“In other words, become you,” Tripp rasped.
“Would that really be all bad?”
Posed that way, and from the vantage point of a hospital bed, maybe it was something to consider, despite how against his nature it went. A pattern of stress, tension headaches, tossing and turning in bed, then getting up to pace and plan was clearly not agreeing with him. Maybe it really was time to switch things up.
“Why don’t you think about that, then make the right decision for your health and my sanity?” Winter remarked.
“How’s it…gonna effect…your sanity…when you…quit?”
“Only after you pushed me to,” Winter said, holding up his hand when Tripp tried to sit up. “Neither of which we need to discuss right now.”
Okay, so he was right about that. Every word made his throat ache worse, which only meant he’d lose the argument long before he was able to make half of the points he needed to.
Why?
Why did it always have to be about whose way was better between him and Winter? He’d been playing tug of war with his twin for so long that the endless battles between them might be the real reason Winter wanted out of the band and as far away from him as he could get. Truth was, he didn’t want to go another round. It wasn’t fun. There hadn’t been much in the way of fun in his life for years. Maybe, instead of being frustrated with his brother for trying to find what made him happy, he should be following the same path.
“Can we talk to you about something?” Zakk asked.
Winter was right. It was time to focus on the man he was falling in love with, and how to make sure Zakk knew that Tripp cherished the time they spent together and wished their lives aligned in a way to give them more. Maybe going on the road without Winter would be the best thing to do, if it meant he and Zakk could eke out time each day for one another.
“Tripp?”
Why was Zakk scowling at him? Had he accidentally said his thoughts out loud? Maybe Zakk didn’t believe he was serious. That was okay too. He’d prove it.
“Hey! Stop following the floaters and listen,” Winter snapped. “We need to talk to you about something.”
“Not like…I’m going anywhere…at the moment,” Tripp muttered, making grabby hands for the cup his brother still held. Instead of giving it to him, Winter held it while he took a few more sips.
“We’ve been talking, and, well,” Zakk began, cutting a sidelong glance at Winter, “there are a lot of things that need to get sorted out, and the bottom line is, none of us is exactly in a good place right now.”
Why was this sounding like a brushoff? Tripp told himself he wouldn’t beg, but damnit, if Zakk was sitting there breaking up with him, then yes, he was fixing to do anything in his power to change his mind, even if meant rolling off the bed to crawl across the floor. How far away was it, anyway?
It took entirely too much effort to turn over and look, especially with Winter shoving at his shoulder, trying to keep him in his spot.
“Will you quit that?” Winter grumbled when Tripp made a last-ditch effort to flop on his side.
“Was about…to tell you…the same.” Tripp muttered.
“Yeah well, I asked you first.”
“What are we…. four?”
“I wish. You liked me better when we were four.”
Woah. Was that Winter…caring what Tripp thought about him?
While he pondered that, Zakk drew swirly patterns along his arm, drawing Tripp’s gaze his way. The purple string was gone from his hair, and for the first time the golden color looked faded. There were tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. Tripp hoped that they came from laughing.
“I’ve been drinking way too much lately,” Zakk said, no longer looking at Tripp now, but at his hands where they traced the outline of Tripp’s tinker gnome tattoo. “And not just when I’m upset about something either. I get sloppy and melancholy, then I write, pass out, and drink some more. Dez barely sleeps and bounces between exhausted and manic. He’s not drinking as much as I am, but I swear he’s smoked a whole tree since we’ve been off the road. Riley is Riley and should have worked his shit out a long time ago, instead, he picks fights and Damien rarely leaves his music room, even to eat. I doubt he knows what the rest of his condo looks like now.”
