"Mad World" - Gary Jules
Grayson
The next morning, I woke up feeling more at peace with myself than I thought I would when I fell asleep the night before. I still have a lot to think about, but I don’t have to do it all right now. I’ll take it one day at a time, one step at a time, and hope the right answer will come to me.
I played my entire heart out last night at the show.
All the emotions that have built up over the past few days—Mia showing up, how I felt about my relationship with Lily ending, and my sister telling me she’s planning on moving to LA—poured out onto the stage as I let it all go.
Pulling myself out of bed, still riding a little bit of the high from last night, I make myself somewhat presentable before heading out of my bedroom.
“Joey,” I call from outside my sister’s door. “Come out here.”
Within a few seconds, my sister emerges, once again looking more like a model than a real person. I don’t even want to start thinking about how long it takes her to look like that everyday. She and I are so different, I honestly don’t know how we’re related sometimes.
“Hey, Gray,” she smiles. “What’s up?”
“Let’s go get some food, just us,” I offer as we walk down the hallway towards the living area.
Johanna seems pleased with the idea of the two of us doing something together, which should’ve been my first red flag. I try to avoid one-on-one time with her because it almost always leads to a conversation I don’t want to have. Hopefully, Johanna won’t ask too many questions, but I already know that’s wishful thinking. I’m also hoping to avoid telling her about me and Lily’s split—or talking about our Mom—but her moving here is going to make that difficult. It’s also going to be difficult to move on if I keep trying to hide it from everyone.
We end up at a restaurant I wouldn’t have been caught dead at with anyone else. My head aches at the thought of the good amount of money I’m about to drop on mediocre, overpriced food, but I suck it up and just go with it. The last thing I want is to pick a fight with my sister when she’d only been here less than twenty-four hours.
We sit down and order. So far, it’s actually going pretty well. We make small talk and Johanna actually doesn’t ask too manypersonal questions, mostly just talking about herself and what’s new in her life until the food gets here.
“So,” I begin, not sure how to start. “I need to tell you something, and it’s kind of important.”
“Hit me,” Johanna says, swirling her straw around in her drink with her fingers.
“Lily and I are splitting up,” I tell her. “I know you’re probably devastated about that.”
That’s sarcasm.
Lily and Johanna never got along. From the minute they met, Johanna felt like it was Lily’s life mission to take me away from her. Lily tried with her at first, but it eventually became clear to her that nothing she could say or do would change Johanna’s mind about her.
Johanna stops and looks up at me. “Did you finally realize what I’d been trying to tell you about her all these years might have a little bit of validity?”
“Sure. I mean, you know I only married her to piss you off.”
I roll my eyes. Leave it to my sister to make my divorce about her.
“You should really call Mom, Gray,” Johanna says lightly; she knows this is the only thing I would want to talk about less than I want to talk about my divorce.
“Johanna,” I sigh, the frustration thick in my voice. “If Mom wants to talk to me so badly, you tell her that she can call me and tell me herself. She’s made it very clear she doesn’t approve of what I’ve done with my life. Beyond that, I’ve told you time and time again—I can’t stand it when you tell her all of my personal shit after you visit. I love you, Jo, but you are going to have to accept that Mom and I are never going to see eye to eye on this.”
This conversation isn’t new to me at all. It always starts and ends the exact same way, and the guilt of pushing my mother away only gets worse with every exchange.
“It’s different this time,” Johanna murmurs, so softly that I almost don’t hear her. “You don’t know what it’s been like.”
I haven’t seen this side of her in a very long time, at least since we were kids. I almost forgot it existed, who she really is: my little sister who, although she’d never admit it, needs someone to hold her head up above the waves.
“It’s not really about work, is it?” I ask, finally putting the pieces together about her move. “You’re trying to distance yourself from her, and you’re using your modeling to do it.”
Johanna nods, and the tears begin pooling in her eyes.
I put more than enough cash to cover the bill on the table, grab my sister’s hand, and get her to the privacy of the car just before she has a full-on meltdown in the middle of the restaurant.
“She’s sick, Gray,” she admits once she pulls it together enough to talk. “She won’t do anything about it, and I can’t watch her die.”
