“What about your new songs?” I know he’s accomplished a lot this past week. I’d hate for his creativity to die again. Which, from what he’s said, is exactly what happened last time.
“Probably shelve ’em till the tour’s over.”
“So, you won’t record them until after? After the tour?” I hate to think of them sitting around for a year. I guess I don’t understand what he does. None of it makes sense to me. “Can’t you work on them in between events? On the bus and stuff?”
“You don’t understand, Charlie.” He sighs loudly. He wants to shut me out but I’m not letting him. But Jesus Christ! I’ve shared so much with him. My body! My thoughts. My traitorous heart.
“So, tell me.”
“Waking up in a different city.Every fucking day. Turning it on. Smiling when you feel like shit. I used to love performing, but it’s my fucking job. It’s turned into a job… I play the same songs, over and over again. I sing each song with everything I’ve got. These people, fans, they pay big money to see something special. Every night I have to make it special. Every fucking night. I’m exhausted. I have nothing left afterwards.”
“So, what do you do?” I push. “Drink? Sleep?” He’s tired of this conversation and so of course, God help me, I take it one step further. “Fuck?”
Why do I say this? Why?
“What do you think?” The vehemence in his voice startles me.
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s clamped his mouth shut tight. And I feel like I should apologize, but I can’t.
He acts like he has no control of his life. Like he can’t take it back.
As though he’s sold his soul to the devil and part of me hates him for it.
“Why do you do it then? Make me understand. If it makes you so unhappy… why?”
We’re almost to my cabin already. He doesn’t answer. When we arrive at my door I turn around, press my back against it, and implore him with my eyes. “I just… You’re letting it hurt you. Of course, it’s a gift. You’ve been blessed. Butit’scontrollingyouinstead of the other way around.” I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. He won’t meet my gaze. He’s looking off to the side.
Staring at his profile tears me apart. He’s killing himself, and he won’t do anything about it. “I wish… I wish you were just a regular guy, you know?” Except I don’t really mean it. If he were just a regular guy, I wouldn’t feel this way. His smile, his energy, his soul. It’s all a part of who he is… And he’s captured me.
I love him.
I love him.
Stupid, stupid Charlie!
He’s finished with this conversation. I shouldn’t have pushed.
“I’ll see you around.” His voice is hard, detached, callous.
“Colt.” I plead with him. He’s backing away from me.
“Go inside.” He won’t leave me outside alone. Once I open the door… I wonder. Will I ever see him again?
I’m frozen. I want to throw myself in his arms and beg him to love me. I want to beg his forgiveness. Beg him not to leave. But it won’t make any difference.
Oh, God. How am I going to get through this?
I take one last look at his face and try to imprint it on my brain.
And then I turn around and rush inside.
When I shut the door behind me, I break.
He’s ruined me. I let him in. I allowed this to happen. I drop to the floor and allow the pain to erupt.
Because right now I can’t imagine living without him.
But I don’t have a choice.
