“Yeah. I’m not saying I don’t get it. What I’m saying, and what pisses me off, is that he’s made all these decisions by himself. Even booked a fucking flight, without counting me in.”
“Meaning…?” Chris coaxed, stealing a chicken wing.
“I’m torn.”
“Well, your entire life is here.”
“No shit.” Marc rolled his eyes. “He didn’t ask me to go with him,” he repeated. “And doesn’t know when he’s coming back, either.”
“Does that mean…”
“No, we’re not breaking up, which is ironic and sad at the same time. He doesn’t know when he’ll come back, doesn’t tell me most of what’s going on to not worry me, but wants me to stay here, waiting for him indefinitely.”
“I mean… This is gonna sound crude, but with how bad his mom has been the entire year, do you think he’ll be away that long?” Chris asked.
Marc’s mouth twisted into a scowl. That was definitely harsh. “I don’t know. But whatever is happening, I can’t help but wonder when our seemingly healthy relationship became this bizarre thing that has me feeling so fucking guilty and confused... Like, is there something I could have done to prevent this from happening?”
“Don’t do that to yourself, dude,” Chris said. “If Viktor is not in his best state of mind with everything that’s going on with his family, no matter what you’d have tried, the outcome would have been the same. Mental health has a bigger role in our lives than we give it credit for.”
The asshole could be wise sometimes.
“I guess…” Marc huffed, and then he let it all out. “I’m just freaking out, with the distance and all… I’ve been living with constant anxiety pressing on my chest for months, slowly losing my shit with the idea that this might be as far as we can make it. It’s not that I don’t love him anymore, but he’s grown so cold during the last months… The silence between us is taking a toll on me. Some days, I don’t even know how I’m still breathing. We’ve been together for almost a decade, sharing an apartment for seven of those years… Fuck.” He rubbed his face with both hands. The situation was tricky, and the uncertainty of what the future held for them didn’t make it any better.
Chris remained silent, allowing Marc to vent.
This was the main reason he liked the guitarist so much. He was far from being nosy, and although it seemed like he took everything as a joke, he never hesitated to lend a hand and listen to his friends babbling if that was what they needed. It was so comfortable to be around him. The safe space he offered for you to break and put yourself back together was unparalleled.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Nah, this is actually perfect,” Marc said, gesturing to the table. “Beer, chicken wings, and a dick of a friend.” He flashed him a playful smirk.
Chris mirrored his expression. “Here for it all. Cheers!”
Silly, simple, and unhealthy as fuck, yet this was what the bassist needed. No long talks and crying because his boyfriend was doing what he felt was the best for his family. Just the reassurance that even if he left, the world wouldn’t end. That he wasn’t alone.
5. Lose Myself
July16th,2017
Chicago, Illinois
Chris rolled his eyeswith a grin painted on his face at the flagrant teasing of Absolute Zero, their new Aussie friends. They had lost yet another football match against them—soccer for Americans, as iftheir footballwas played with feet or something.
Either they were getting too old for this crap, or this group of surfer-looking metalheads were doped. How else did the three musicians with dicks from Buried Alive, and two techs, end up coughing their lungs, while the other bunch of monkeys didn’t even sweat running after the ball?
The lamest thing was that Chris was only three years older than the Aussie twins—the oldest of their group. Though Uwe and Noah were in their mid-forties already.
Simply not fair.
“Come on! Get back here!” Oliver, the Aussie drummer, shouted.
“We have dinner with our crew.” Erik waved without turning to look at them.
Not a lie. Their schedules were different and wild. Most working days they only had the chance to talk after waking up or before going to bed, during soundcheck, if they had a small break, or in between interviews. Some of them got up super early and went to sleep before anyone, like their driver, who usually slept during the day and drove them to the next destination at night. That was why they always tried to at least gather for dinner.
“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard!” said Ethan, aka Aussie Blond Guitarist. “If you come back, we’ll let you score a few free goals so we’re more balanced.”
Chris looked over his shoulder and showed them the middle finger with both hands. “We don’t need your pity. Gonna kick your stupid asses next time.”
