//10// But I Ascend and Serve My Feverish Need

Nearly an hour had passed by the time I arrived at the West Hollywood House of Blues.  The effects of the last line I took had faded approximately twenty minutes prior to arriving, leaving me in a cold sweat.  On top of the coming off my high, I was terrified of facing my brothers; I didn’t want to be asked questions or have to offer explanations, but I knew they would both ask and expect a response.  I wiped my hands on my pants before entering the venue from the back, miraculously dodging any fans that were lurking, and made my way directly to the bathrooms.

I locked the door behind me, my heart pounding in my chest, and gripped the cool porcelain of the sink to steady myself.  My eyes met their reflection, and I quickly gave myself a once over:  I looked terrible.  My hair was matted to my forehead and a thin film of sweat was visible all over my face.   My eyes had this weird look in them as well, one I couldn’t quite place but that I knew wasn’t how they usually looked.

As I leaned against the sink, something pushed in to my hip and I remembered the baggie Elisa had slipped inside.  I pulled it out, rolling it between my fingers for a moment before opening it.  I liked the end of my pinky and stuck it in the bag, collecting a small amount of power that I brought to my nose and inhaling.  I repeated the process once more before sealing the baggie tightly and stuffing it back in my pocket.

For the next five or so minutes, I stayed in the bathroom trying to make myself look a little better.  I splashed water on my face and ran some through my hair, pulling it back in to a haphazard ponytail.  The venue had laid out some toiletries per our rider, and I popped the cap off of some mouthwash and rinsed the taste of last night away.  With a final look in the mirror, and the effects of the drugs settling in, I left the bathroom with a hop, bouncing through our dressing room and to the front, where my brothers had started sound check.

The music stopped abruptly as I entered, but I just ignored it and leapt on to the stage.  “Hey guys!” I called out.  “Sorry I’m late.  I wasn’t feeling well earlier but I’m better now!  Are we ready for a check on my kit yet?”  My mind was aware that the words were tumbling from my mouth quickly, the sentences running together in to one long, drawn out thought.

Ike and Tay were both staring at me; Tay’s brow knitted together as he watched me hit the kick pedal absently.  Ike glanced toward Tay, a confused expression on his face.  The silence was killing me.  “Are we gonna do this?” I inquired, clicking my drum sticks together.

“Get Up & Go, count us off,” Ike instructed.

I did as asked, and immediately received a glare from Taylor, who mouthed “slow down” to me.  After a few seconds I was able to steady my pace and we managed to get through three songs before our sound guy gave us the OK.

I flew up from behind my kit, my arm smashing in to the high-hat as I did so, sending a loud crash through the venue.  Ike jumped, and both he and Tay turned to me with questioning gazes.  “Are you alright?” Ike asked, a small note of concern in his voice.

“I’m fucking fantastic!” I announced, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.  “I am so ready for this show!”

“Ok…” Taylor rolled his eyes but continued to speak.  “I think it’s dinner time,” he announced.

At Taylor’s suggestion of dinner, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything all day; I hadn’t been hungry, and I certainly wasn’t right now.  I followed my brothers back in to our dressing room, where the House of Blues restaurant had set up a small buffet with burgers, salads, French fries, and a variety of beverages.   While my brothers went immediately to fill their plates, I circled the buffet, my stomach tying in knots the more I thought about eating.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Isaac inquired, mouth half-full of burger.

I shot him a glare, shaking my head, silently.  Suddenly, the smell from the food was making me nauseous.  I hurried to the bathroom, where I shut myself in, away from prying eyes.  My hands were starting to get clammy and were they shaking?  I brushed them on the front of my pants then ran them through my hair, surveying the bathroom.  There was a shower; it was small and probably ran cold, but it might help.  I was starting to get panicky; my earlier confidence waning with each passing minute, and in response my entire body seemed to be catching on fire.

Towels stacked neatly beside the shower, a washcloth, my toiletries already moved in by someone thoughtful.  I flipped the faucet of the shower on and stripped as quickly as I could, holding my hand under the stream of water until it was the right temperature.  Once I had settled my shoulder under the spray, I began to feel a little better.  The overwhelming hotness that had engulfed me began to dwindle, and even the nausea wasn’t as strong.  I washed my body and my hair, taking my time to relish in the comfort of the water.

Loud pounding on the door jarred me from the serenity of the water, and Isaac’s voice only sealed the coffin of my relaxation.  “Come on, Zac, some of us need to get in there, still,”

I groaned, but shut the water off and reached for a towel.  I ran it over my hair, getting all the excess water out before wiping my body down and wrapping the towel around my waist.  I picked my stuff up and opened the door, bumping past Taylor to my bags.  He said something in protest behind me, but I didn’t listen; I just found clean clothes and tugged them on and tossed the towel aside.  Walking toward the door, I pulled my jacket on and dug in the pockets until I found my cigarettes.  I lit it before I was completely out the door and took a few long drags before exhaling, leaning against the building and closing my eyes.

“Got a light?”

The sound of Isaac’s voice made my head hurt.  I was still angry with him for telling Kate about my affair, though at the same time I was thankful he left out the details of with whom it occurred.  Since Kate had confessed where she had gotten her information from, I had done my best to steer clear of Isaac, only talking to him if I had to.  Even then, my attitude toward him was distant and cold; I knew he knew I was doing it on purpose, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.  He had a track record of making bad situations worse.

“Yeah,” I tossed him my lighter, and then closed my eyes again.

Ike nudged my arm a moment later and I blindly took the lighter back from him, slipping it in to my jacket pocket.  We remained silent after that, smoking our respective cigarettes, for a while.  I was just stubbing out the butt of mine when Isaac finally spoke again.  “I know why you’ve been avoiding me, Zac; I can’t say that I blame you.  I’ve done some pretty messed up things to you and I’m sorry.  But this,” he waved his hand at me, to indicate that I was the subject of his point.  “This is just scary.  Whatever’s going on in there…whatever you think you deserve or whatever you think I deserve, this isn’t it.  I’m an asshole, but you’re still my brother, and I love you.”

I shook my head, my eyes meeting his before I responded.  “You ruined my life.  Twice.  I’m not your brother.”  Turning around, I pulled open the back door to the venue and walked back inside, reaching in to my pocket and circling my fingers around the plastic bag in my pocket.

**

From backstage, I could hear the chattering of the crowd.  Some people were laughing, others were yelling, and after awhile, I could even hear a faint chant of “Hanson!” someone had tried to start.  I stood by the side of the stage, just out of sight, listening and trying to center myself.  I told myself I didn’t want to play under the influence; I couldn’t give a good performance if I had a mind-altering chemical in my body, but the more I tried not to the more my body seemed to want just one more bump.

“Hey,” I turned to see Natalie standing next to me; I hadn’t even realized she was here.

“Hey…when did you get in?” I absently inquired.

“A couple hours ago;” she replied.  “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” It was a lie, but it was the one thing in my life that was ever consistent:  if someone asked how I was doing, I said I was good, or fine, or OK.  They seemed to believe it more often than not, and even if they didn’t—which I’m sure was the case with Natalie—they were too polite to challenge me on it.  “How are you?”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head.  “I’m OK, Zac…I’m worried, though.  You say you’re good, but you don’t look it.”

“Well, I am good.  I’m better than good, actually, I’m fucking fantastic.” I realized how biting it sounded, how mean and ungrateful, but I couldn’t bring the words ‘I’m sorry’ to my lips just then.

Natalie pulled herself up to her full height, straightening her shoulders and nodding, before continuing.  “Zac, please don’t do this to yourself again,” her voice was shaking.  “I know you’re hurting, and I know that there’s a lot going on with you that I don’t know and wouldn’t understand, but please.  You have babies to think about now, Zac.  Shepherd and Junia need their daddy…and as much as it may not seem like it, the rest of your family needs you, too.”

“Tell that to Kate,” I snapped.  “She’s the one who’s threatening to take them away from me, and then what will I have?”

“She’s only looking out for their well being,” Natalie rationalized.  “Kate told me what happened during the thunderstorm, and I…I know that wasn’t you, Zac, but with the way you’ve been acting, I don’t see how it’s safe for them.”

“I would never, ever hurt them, Nat,” I whispered, the words almost getting stuck in my throat.

I could see where she was coming from; based on my last interaction with Kate, it would clearly appear that I was unstable and not the best influence or supervisor for a six and three year old.  I stuffed my hands in my pockets and rocked my weight from foot to foot, my eyes in a staring contest with the floor.

It was only when Natalie spoke again that I realized she had heard what I’d said.  “I know that, Zac.  And deep down, Kate does, too.  I think she was trying to scare you in to control of yourself…she doesn’t hate you, you know; she actually still cares about you…still loves you.  I think maybe if you just talked to her like Zac and not this angry, self-loathing version of yourself that you’ve become, you might find that out.  She’s hurting, too.  And yeah, maybe she deserves it, but it still sucks.”  Natalie rested her hand on my arm, offering me a warm, supportive smile.  “You’ve both made mistakes, and even if it’s too much for you to reconcile as husband and wife, maybe it’s enough to become friends again.”

Her words tumbled around in my head a bit as she hugged me and wished me a good show.  As she walked away, I stared after this woman who, by all accounts should hate me, yet…doesn’t.  If the situation were reversed–if she was the one on the outs with my brother–I don’t think I’d be able to see her side of things, even if Taylor had done some horrible things to her.  I’d take the side of my brother and she wouldn’t get so much consideration from me.

My mind was spinning as my brothers walked up beside me, just minutes before we were set to take the stage.  I did my best to avoid eye contact with either one of them, keeping my eyes on the floor or the wall or anything but one of them through our pre-show ritual, and before I knew it we were making our way on to the stage.  Ike managed to catch my eye, giving me a pathetic look that I assumed was supposed to be apologetic.  It just made me angry, but I forced a smile on my face as I settled behind my kit and lifted my sticks, feeling the energy from the crowd wrap around me.

I suddenly felt better; the rise of the cheer from the audience as we took the stage, barely audible through the ear monitors that doubled as plugs from the outside noise, made my heart start to beat excitedly.  When the lights went up briefly and I saw the looks on so many faces in the crowd, the smile I had been forcing relaxed and turned natural.  Here is where I belonged.  Here is where it all made sense.  Even if it was only for a couple of hours, I could let my aggressions out on my drum kit and get lost.  This would always be here; my preferred drug—a natural high.

The two hours we spent on stage whipped by faster than I’d have liked it to, and all too soon we were standing and doing our bow.  My heart was still racing as I handed my sticks to some girls in the front row, shaking their hands before I ran off stage.  Safely out of sight from the audience, I stood for a moment to collect myself in the darkness of the backstage hallway, taking a deep, satisfying breath.  My hands were no longer shaking, and though I was sweating it was from exertion and not nerves or drugs.  My stomach felt tied in knots again and I did have a slight headache, but overall I physically felt all right.  My emotional state was slowly sliding off the high from the concert, but I tried to force all negative thoughts from my mind, focusing only on two things:  getting my stuff together and heading to the bus.

Knowing I’d have to make my way through a throng of fans for the second part of that to happen, I took my time gathering my things together, sipping a beer and feeling better than I had in quite awhile while sober.  I was humming to myself when Isaac walked in, his mouth set in a firm line.  I did my best to ignore him, going about my business of gathering my things together and making it all fit in my backpack.  I felt my brother’s eyes on me the whole time, even if just in his periphery, and it made me uneasy.  I didn’t have anything additional to say to him right now, though I realized my words earlier were probably a bit harsh, they were, in essence, true.  He cleared his throat a couple of times, trying to get my attention, but I pretended like I was oblivious.

“Zac.” I stopped when he said my name, my backpack half-zipped and sitting up on the couch.  Slowly, I turned my attention toward my brother, raising only an eyebrow in response.  “We…we need to talk.”

“We do, or you do?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.  “Because right now, I have nothing more to say to you.”

“But…” his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes.  “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m sorry.”

Silence followed his apology; I wasn’t sure if I should acknowledge it or not.  Saying he was sorry didn’t change anything; it didn’t rewind time and make him not tell Kate I cheated, or even rewind it far enough to stop him from sleeping with her all those years ago.  “Isaac, I get it.  But right now, that is not going to help, so please, just fuck off for awhile.”  I lifted my backpack to my shoulder and hurried out of the room, toward the exit for the bus.

 

 

 

 

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