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This time, when his phone rang, he was tempted to let it go straight to voicemail. It was the fear that his brother had wrecked that bike that led him to pick it up and check the caller-ID, but it was the name that glowed on his screen that led him to answer it.
“God, I wish you were here,” Tripp breathed when Zakk’s voice came through the speaker.
“You sound exhausted, isn’t it like four o-clock there? Isn’t that early unless you still haven’t slept since last night.”
“Oh, I slept, not that it’s doing me any good today.”
“What happened.”
“What always happens!”
He knew he sounded like a dick but fuck it today. He just didn’t have the energy to care. He barely had the willpower to cross the room and take a seat at the table.
“Winter? What happened now?”
“It’s not what, its every little thing compounded into one jacked up steaming dumpster fire of a mess. Now he’s saying he quit the band.”
“Whoa!”Zakk exclaimed with awe in his voice.“I’ll go out on a limb and say that’s never happened before.”
“You’d be correct. So…”
“No tour?”
Sighing heavily, Tripp let his head thunk against the granite tabletop. “Doesn’t look like it. Fucking hell!”
He smacked the fruit basket off the table with one slap of his hand, oranges bouncing off cabinets and the dishwasher while the bananas and his phone just tumbled to the floor.
“Look, I can be on the next flight out there, rent a car and be on your doorstep in time for a late dinner,” Zakk offered.
“Won’t have you fuckin’ up the flow of your album to help me with shit that can’t be fixed.” Tripp said, when what he really wanted was the scream ‘yes please’. It was hard to keep a pleading tone out of his voice though, or the desire to whine and fire off a litany of wishes and desires.
“Sounds like you’ve given up.”
“What else am I supposed to do when it comes to Winter? It’s not like he cares about anyone’s wants but his own!”
“Well, you could try talking to him, figuring out what his mindset is and why he’s…”
“He’s selfish, he’s always been that way! I’ve always made excuses for him, and I’ve always gotten burned for it.”
Talking to Zakk was usually a calming balm on frazzled nerves, but this line of reasoning was starting to irritate him. He didn’t want Zakk to offer rational solutions and he certainly didn’t want his boyfriend taking his brother’s side. Snarling, he glared at the orange that came to a stop beside his foot, so pissed off and frustrated at the whole situation that he kicked it at the wall.
The resounding thud it made was satisfying. Its peel parting to release a sticky spray of pulp and juice. The residue slid like a worm trail down the wall, following the path the orange took on its way to the floor.
Even as he stared at the slow puddle of juice beginning to form beneath the orange, he could hear Zakk steadily trying to talk to him.
“Oh-kay, so maybe this is a good thing. Take a break from each other, gain some perspective, talk to your bandmates, see what they want to do…”
“We can’t tour without my brother.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not the charismatic twin. I can never hold the crowd the way he does. You think half our female demographic comes to the show for the music? They come for him! They come to see him strut and swagger and to see how much of his attire will come off on the stage. They don’t even care that he likes men, they throw their panties at him anyway, even when he kicks them back off the stage.”
“You, um, do know that you two are identical, so if they’re looking at him, they are damn sure looking at you.”
“Do you look at him? How do you tear your eyes away? How can you not wish he was the one you were…? Just, forget it. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“And I’m going to pretend you didn’t suggest I’d sleep with your brother.”
