I’ve been home for three weeks now, and it’s been a great day enjoying each other’s company. It feels like old times, before my music career took off and everything got so complicated. I’m glad to have this time with Rick, especially now he’s getting back on his feet.
Suddenly, Rick sighs and sets his controller down, his expression turning serious. “Axe… I never really thanked you. You know, for taking the fall for me with that weed in your car. I know it messed up your reputation pretty bad. I’m sorry, man.”
It was a mess, no doubt about it. “Hey, you came good in the end. It took guts for you to own up to everything.”
Rick clears his throat, eyes downcast. “Still, I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I can’t believe you stood by me when I’m such a fuckup.”
“Everyone deserves support when they screw up. You know that, right?”
He shrugs.
“Hey, it’s the truth. We all make mistakes. What matters is how we learn from them and move forward. I’m just glad you’re getting the help you need now.”
Rick looks up and meets my eyes, nodding. “Yeah, therapy’s been helping a lot. It’s not easy, but I’m trying, you know? I don’t want to let you down again.”
“You could never let me down,” I assure him, my voice firm. “I’m proud of you for facing your demons head-on. It takes a lot of courage to do what you’re doing. You’re my little brother, Ricky. I’ll always have your back, no matter what. I love you.”
Rick’s eyes look a little misty as he pulls me into a tight hug. Maybe because I used the nickname he probably hasn’t heard for years. “Love you too, bro. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
As we separate, I clap a hand on his shoulder and look him straight in the eye. “We’re family. Nothing’s gonna change that. We’ll get through anything together, you hear me?”
Rick nods, a glimmer of his old cocky smile returning. “Loud and clear. The Zelman brothers against the world.”
We settle back into the game, Rick kicking my butt again, but I love every minute of the banter and the teasing. It’s not until I get a text from Nigel that the mood changes again.
“What’s he want?” Rick asks as I look at my phone.
“Just some questions about the tour being planned for early next year.”
Rick’s face drops. “Tour?”
“I don’t have to deal with it now,” I say, hating that my work has interrupted our fun afternoon.
Rick slumps in his seat, controller loose on his lap.
“What’s wrong?”
He turns to me, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “The tour… do you have to… I mean, with everything that’s happened…”
It dawns on me that maybe he’s worried about being left behind when I head overseas for a few months. “You could come?” Even as I say the words I know it’s a crap idea. The last thing Rick needs is to be dragged around the world, living out of a suitcase, exposed to fuck knows what, and not moving forward with his own life. “Or I could cancel,” I say.
He shakes his head. “You can’t do that for me.”
“I can…” I pause, Kyle’s words echoing in my mind. I can control my own destiny and make choices that align with what I truly want. The thought of being back on the road, facing those massive crowds again… it sends a shiver down my spine. Maybe it’s time for a change. “You know what, Ricky? I’m not so sure about the tour anymore. I think… I think it might be time for me to switch things up a bit. Focus on what really makes me happy.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity in his gaze. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
I lean back, a slow smile spreading across my face as the pieces start to fall into place. “I’m not entirely sure yet, but I’ve got some ideas. All I know is, I want to make music on my own terms, in a way that feels authentic to who I am.”
Rick grins, and I see a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “That sounds awesome, Axe. You know I’ll support you, no matter what you decide.”
“I know you will, Ricky. That means the world to me.” I reach out and ruffle his hair affectionately. Normally he’d duck and bitch at the action, but he simply smiles.
I excuse myself to the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing some drinks and snacks, but my real intention is to make an important call. I need to strike while the iron’s hot. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I dial Nigel’s number. I stare out the window at the view of Sydney Harbour as I wait for him to answer, sail boats and ferries gliding past on the sparkling water.
He picks up on the fourth ring. “Axel! What’s up, mate? Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say. “Listen, Nige, I’ve been doing some thinking. About the tour, about my career, about… about everything, really.”
