“Did you coerce or force him to do whatever it is you did?” Erik asked.
Marc pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, mischievously grinning when Erik crinkled his nose, a soft chuckle vibrating in his chest.
“Idiot.”
“Oh, well.” Marc shrugged as he gulped down half of his coffee.
He was acting nonchalant when, in reality, he was a mass of tangled nerves and aches. A fake mask he’d created over the years that he hoped his friend could see right through.
It was stupid to expect people to understand your emotions and motives when you wouldn’t voice them. But it had been so long since the bassist had this type of inner conflict with love, he’d forgotten how to put it into words.
“I’d let it be.”
“So, we just keep up this ridiculous shitshow?”
“Yeah.” Erik nodded. “He fucked up big time. Let him crawl and beg for you to forgive him.”
Marc laughed. “Sadist.”
“What? Nah. I’m just saying he needs to learn a lesson. If you open the doors for him to walk in like nothing happened over and over, he’ll end up taking you for granted.” Erik shrugged.
“You’re something else.” Marc shook his head and looked down at the table.
“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met,” Erik said, pulling a string in Marc’s heart when their gazes met again. “And as much as I love that twat, too, he needs to grow a fucking pair and fix this. The way he talked to you, the things he said… I don’t care what you did together. There’s no excuse to be so brutal. Period.”
“I guess you’re right…” Marc let out another sigh. “I’m just tired of being in this strange limbo between being friends and strangers.”
Erik stood and patted his shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry too much. You two have been as thick as thieves since I’ve known you. I don’t think this will change anything. But you need some time to figure out what you’re gonna do from now on.”
“What if he doesn’t want anything? What if everything was just a big fucking mistake that’s irreversibly shattered what we had?” Marc regretted saying it instantly. After tasting Chris, this was the biggest fear he had. He wanted more, needed more. A night of unleashed desires wasn’t enough to shake the guitarist from his system before going back to square one or even further behind. He’d rather be soaked in bleach.
“Then you’ll have to suck it up and accept it,” Erik deadpanned. “But what if he does? If he reciprocated… I mean, I wouldn’t, not in a thousand years, touch your dick. Not even with a five-meter stick.” He chortled. “It’s a fifty-fifty possibility.” Erik smiled. “Don’t lose hope just yet,” he said as he walked away.
Holding on to hope hurts. It creates expectations and a parallel dimension where things work out the way you desire, but when that reality never materializes, all that is left is disappointment.
However, as Marc watched the drummer’s back getting further away with each step, something warm bloomed in his chest.
Marc would wait. He’d wait for Chris to make up his mind, no matter how long it took or how much it hurt. Whatever the outcome was, he’d take it, but he would not give up now. Not when he was at the threshold that separated happiness and heartbreak. A door he’d never even dreamed of getting so close to.
August17th,2017
Salt Lake City, Utah
“I thought you were going to sleep,” Chris said as he approached, making Marc cough on the drag he’d just taken from his cig. “Why lie to be here all alone? Is this how much you despise us?”
“What are you doing here?”
Everyone was gathered close to Dark Omen’s bus—their crew, the Norwegians, the Texans, and the Aussies. But Marc was tired and didn’t feel like being surrounded by so many people when the conflict inside of him wouldn’t give him a break.
“You’ve been absent-minded all day. You okay?”
Marc stared at his friend, mouth slightly agape.“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Chris rolled his eyes. The bassist expected one of his witty remarks. It was the way they communicated now, apparently. But what he blurted next surprised him.
“Because of everything that’s happened lately between us.”
Marc shifted uncomfortably in his chair, sweeping his hair over his shoulder to let the crisp breeze graze his nape. It was past two in the morning and the atmosphere was cool for a summer, yet a sudden wave of heat had sunk in his system.
