“Look, man,” Bobby said. “We have all wanted to hit Corey.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Keith said. “Should I go back up there?” No part of him wanted to see the lido deck ever again, but it came out so quickly, the offer.
Bobby put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Nah, man. Listen, let’s just talk about it. I want to help you.” His face wasn’t as round as it had been when they were young. Baby Bobby, that’s what the Talkershad called him. None of them were babies anymore, though. Not even close.
Keith said, “I appreciate you, Bobby, I do. But why isn’t Shawn down here? I want my brother to put someone else first for once. I want to do my job. I want to dothisjob. But it’s just so hard, you know? And he doesn’t make it easier. He just keepspushing.”
They’d had this conversation before. They’d had it on the back of tour buses. They’d had it backstage at venues. They’d had it in his living room.
“I think that this could be a really good thing, the tour,” Bobby said. “It could be good for you, man. Huge crowds, big money. Maybe it’s time.” He clapped his large hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We’ve had a solid run.”
Keith hadn’t thought that far ahead—of course it meant that Bobby would be gone, with swaying neo-hippie Jonathan in his place. Bobby wouldn’t be on the planes or at the hotels. He wouldn’t be there at all. This was Shawn finally putting his ambition before anything else, no matter who got left behind. “I see,” Keith said. “Well, I don’t like it.”Show me a famous kid who didn’t have to trade their life for their talent, that’s what he wanted to say.Show me a world in which I get to keep my brother.Instead, Keith put some food on his plate and walked back to his guest.
46
Sunday, 10:27 p.m.
Deck 10
The contract was clear: The guys were supposed to be on the lido deck for at least two hours. They usually did more, and on the last night, they usually went all night, and so that’s what the Talkers expected. Prom Night was sacred to the Talkers, and this year, Prom was fucked. Sarah stood next to Pancake, who was trying his hardest. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock and he’d already resorted to “Sweet Caroline” and “Livin’ on a Prayer.” The nostalgia train was running at full speed. She didn’t blame him.
Corey ran up the steps when he saw her. “You’re not going to let him do this, right? You have to at least let me punch him back.” She felt like the mother of toddlers. That had settled it—Sarah was never having children, not if they could be boys, not if they could turn out like this.
“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Sarah asked. “If you want to go talk to him, go talk to him. I’m not making him do anything when you clearly deserved that and more.”
Corey looked surprised. The Talkers were chanting his name, andhe raised a red Solo cup into the air. They cheered. “Why? What did I do?”
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “You cheated on your wife with a nineteen-year-old on a public beach, and then you pissed on your own car? You were so drunk that you parked on someone else’s front lawn? You broke into your neighbor’s house? You propositioned me like an hour ago? You’re drunk like a fucking teenager? Do you want me to keep going?”
“I’m separated,” Corey said, as if that were the problem. “Everybody’s a damn prude.”
Sarah raised a fist, and Corey backed away.
Scotty and Terrence were dancing with a clutch of Talkers on the stage. One of the women was dressed like Carrie, dripping with some red liquid. This was why Sarah liked Scotty. He was holding the woman’s hands, and the front of his tuxedo was streaked with fake blood from when they had hugged. He didn’t care. This was fun! Terrence was doing a sort of lazy man’s ritual sacrifice, where he just shook his body while the Talkers around him touched his chest, his head thrown back as if in ecstasy. The crowd was used to the guys coming and going, and nothing seemed to be a problem yet. Shawn was crowd-surfing back and forth like a human beach ball.
Someone cleared their throat next to her. Sarah looked at the floor to her right and saw a pair of men’s sandals.
“Hello, Jonathan,” Sarah said.
His face cracked open with a smile. He was wearing a well-worn T-shirt that had holes around the neck, and, looking at it, Sarah knew that that T-shirt had cost no less than two hundred dollars. This was the closest she’d been to him the entire cruise, and for the first time, she could see the clear braces on his teeth. Sarah wanted Scotty’s bloody friend to rub her body all over him.
“It seems that there was some distress earlier, and I think I could be of some assistance,” Jonathan said. “I have a lot of experience with group dynamics.”
“Okay. And why are you telling me this? Isn’t he your client?” Sarah pointed at Shawn, who had his hands tucked behind his head and his eyes closed, like he was on a pool float instead of levitating on top of hundreds of middle-aged women beside a cruise-ship tiki bar.
“I saw what happened in there. You’re the alpha. I like to deal directly with the alpha.” He tipped his head back and howled.
The breeze smelled like piña coladas. Terrence disengaged from a clump of Talkers in captain hats and jogged up the stairs.
“Hey,” he said to them. “I just need a break. I feel all jumpy and shit.”
Kelsey was nearby, and she scooted over as quickly as if her high heels had built-in wheels.
“Want to go take a break, baby? I could really use a little break.” Terrence snuggled his face into Kelsey’s neck and slurped.
“Just go,” Sarah said to all of them. Terrence and Kelsey were gone in a poof, but Jonathan stayed.
“It’s very interesting, your job,” Jonathan said, by which he no doubt meant,How charming, the brisk and busy life of someone who makes less than six figures a year. How quaint.He was the kind of person who had to hire a TaskRabbit to hang a television. Utterly useless. “You ever try to do it on land? I’m going to take these boys out to see the world, and I think you should come with us.”
