Track 23: Side A

Friends and Dicks: Both Give You a Hard Time

 

Jace

I’m still in a bit of a daze when we get to my apartment. The last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, and I’m in desperate need of a little breathing room to get my head on straight.

I open the door and wave Lincoln inside. He sets down his guitar and kicks off his shoes, his gaze roaming over my place making me self-conscious. What does he see here?

“Your place is really nice.”

I shrug. “It’s okay. I don’t make a fortune and rent is expensive, so this is the best I could really get. I’m sure it’s a lot smaller than what you’re used to.”

“It’s nice,” he repeats. “It feels…homey. My place feels like a museum or a morgue. This feels like you’ve picked everything out yourself.” He walks over and picks up a pillow off my couch and holds it for a second before setting it down.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t have a decorator or anything,” I chuckle.

“I did,” he says sadly. “I didn’t really care what was in my place.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe it would make you happier if you did feel settled in your space,” I suggest.

“No,” Lincoln answers easily.

“Okay, well, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“I’ll order some food and we can just, uh, hang out?” It hits me how weird this is. What the hell was I thinking inviting him here? How long is he going to stay? Oh shit, he’s going to sleep in my bed every night, right? Fuck, that’s going to mess with my head.

He settles onto the couch while I pull up a food delivery app on my phone and order us Indian food. Linc always told me he liked Indian food, so I figure that’ll be a winner.

“I should’ve brought my Nintendo from the cabin,” he muses as we sit awkwardly on the couch, both trying to figure out how we’re supposed to act around each other here. At the cabin was one thing, that was all memories and feelings. This is like a cartoon suddenly existing in the real world.

“Oh yeah, that must’ve cost a lot to buy a working one. Are you going to go back for it?”

“I’ll have Archer send someone out for it. But I’ll wait a week or so to be sure the press has lost interest in the place.”

I nod and reach for the remote. “We could watch a movie?” I suggest.

“That’s cool,” he agrees.

By the time the food arrives, we’ve both started to relax a little. I grab forks from the kitchen, and we settle back onto the couch with containers in hand.

“What do you have?” he asks, glancing over at my food.

“Chicken dum birayani.”

“Mmm, let me try a little.” He scoots closer until our shoulders are touching, and he steals a bite of my food. He doesn’t move away after, and I suspect that was his plan all along.

“I’m a bit disappointed; your moves haven’t improved since we were teenagers,” I tease.

“That’s because I had mad moves back then, so no need to update them,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “What? They worked on you then, and they seem to be working just fine now.”

“Don’t count your chickens,” I warn with a smirk, and it’s Linc’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I’ll work on upping my game,” he concedes before stealing another bite from my container.

“Hey, get your own,” I complain, using my fork like a joust against his until the chicken is on his lap, and we’re both laughing.

The air between us feels charged, and Linc leans in, his eyes fixed on my lips. His phone rings, making us both jump before he can take the kiss we both wanted him to have.

“Sorry, it’s Lando, I’d better take this really quick.”

I wave him off, taking a deep breath to calm my rapid heartbeat.

 

 

Lincoln

“Hey Lando, how’s it going?” I answer, stepping into Jace’s kitchen so I’m not rudely talking on the phone right next to him.

“Uh…good. How are you?” he asks cautiously, letting me know he’s talked to Benji since he and I talked..

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic,” I say a little too forcefully. “Why don’t you just ask whatever Benji wants you to ask and let me get on with my night?”

“It’s not Benji, although he’s worried about you too. Archer told me you were with some friend in Seattle?”

“Yup,” I confirm.

“What friend, Lincoln? Not to sound like a dick, but all your friends are in the band, and none of us are in Seattle.”

“Good job not sounding like a dick,” I respond, letting the sarcasm drip from my tone.

“Seriously man, I’m worried about you. Who are you with?”

“I’m with Jace.”

I’m met with a long silence, much like my conversation with Benji, and I have to wonder why my supposed best friends all think I belong in a fucking psych ward.

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” Lando asks softly after several long beats.

“Is it the best idea to be with the only man I’ve ever loved? Is it the best idea to go back to the only thing that’s made me happy in my whole miserable life? Is it the best idea to follow my fucking heart for once?”

“Calm down; I’m just concerned. It was only four weeks ago that we nearly had to bury you, and now you tell me you’ve somehow rekindled things with your old boyfriend? Excuse me for thinking heartbreak isn’t the best thing for your mental health.”

“There’s not going to be any heartbreak this time.”

“I hope that’s true, I really do.”

“Is this all you called about?” I ask with agitation.

“No, I missed you. I wanted to check in and see how your break is going.”

I let out a long breath and finally let my muscles untense. “It’s going great. Honestly, I think we’ve been going too hard for the last ten years. I think after this, we need to lay down some new rules for the label—shorter tours, longer breaks in between.”

“Yeah, I’m one hundred percent on board for that. I mean, if we decide we’re still a band.”

“You don’t want to be?”

“I’m not saying that. I just don’t know how everyone is going to feel after the break.” There’s sadness in Lando’s voice that makes me wish I was there to give him a reassuring hug.

“How’s your break going? How’s Florida?”

“Um…undetermined so far,” he answers vaguely.

“That’s a weird fucking answer, but I guess I’ll take it for now. Have you heard from Jude? He’s not in jail or anything is he?”

Lando chuckles on the other end of the phone. “Uh, I don’t think you’re going to believe what’s going on with Jude.”

“Now you have me intrigued. Did he get hitched to a stranger in Vegas or something? I’ve been offline since the break. I haven’t seen any of the gossip rags or anything.”

“No, nothing like that. But I think it’ll be better if he tells you himself when we all meet up again.”

“Fine, tease,” I complain.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, and I really do hope everything works out with Jace this time around.”

“Me too,” I agree with a sigh. “Have a good rest of your vacation, bro.”

“You too.”

After I hang up with Lando, I shove my phone back into my pocket and head to the living room, hoping to pick up where I left off with Jace. But when I get there, the food containers are packed up, and he’s sitting on the far end of the couch.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, Lando was just checking in.”

Jace nods, keeping his gaze fixed on the television.

“Is something wrong?” I check.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then why are you being weird?” I press, reaching for his hand. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s just…” He huffs out a breath and finally looks at me. “I’ve spent the last few minutes trying to figure out how to ask you to sleep on the couch instead of joining me in bed.”

My heart sinks, and I pull my hand back like I’ve been burned. I don’t know why I thought if I could get Jace back in bed it would be enough to win him back. I’m sure after all my moods and bullshit he’s seen recently, he’s ready to have me out of his life again for good.

“Okay,” I agree in a strangled voice. “No problem.” The lie tastes bitter.

“I just need some space to get things sorted out in my head. I don’t want to…” He stops and shakes his head. “I need a little space is all,” he repeats.

“It’s fine; you don’t owe me an explanation.”

We watch the rest of the movie in silence and then Jace goes to a linen closet at the end of the hall and pulls out some blankets and pillows to fix up the couch for me.

“Do you need anything before I go to bed?” he asks, hovering near the couch as I strip down to my boxers.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall next to my bedroom. Sleep well.”

“Night.”

I watch Jace’s back as he retreats down the hall, and my stomach cramps, feeling like I’ve been kicked in the gut. It’s like Lando is a fucking psychic. Five minutes after he tells me he’s worried about me losing Jace again, there he is, pushing me away. It’s probably because they see what the whole world sees—I’m a fucking loser, not worthy of anyone or anything. I don’t deserve Jace; I never have.

 

 

Jace

I slide into bed, shivering as the cool sheets surround me. I reach over and brush the empty spot beside me where Amanda used to sleep. There’s a hollow ache in my chest at the thought of Amanda beside me. She was right to leave. We were little more than friends and, truth be told, I don’t really miss having her in bed beside me. Pathetically, I think I miss Linc more, even after just two nights sleeping next to each other.

It was rare when we were teens that I would sleep beside Linc all night long, usually too worried about getting caught to truly relax. But it happened once or twice that I dozed off beside him and didn’t wake until morning. And then, of course, there was the morning. I want to be able to forgive him for that and move forward. He seems to think there’s some way we can make this work between us as more than a vacation fling, and I want him to be right. But what if he’s wrong? Can I survive the heartbreak a second time? Can I survive the what-if’s of not giving it a chance?

I roll over, restlessly kicking at my blankets and cursing myself for wishing I’d let Linc come to bed with me. Honestly, it freaked me out a little when I overheard him on the phone with Lando, so intense with his defense of being here with me. He said I’m the only man he’s ever loved. I knew that already, but hearing it out loud shook something deep in my core. Linc wouldn’t be messing around with my feelings; he’s not looking to fool around until things run their course. Lincoln wants me forever, like he always promised.

 

Linc

A sharp ache starts in my core and radiates outward, leaving me gasping for breath.

I curl into a ball and try to hold the pain at bay as the darkness leaks out from the corners of my soul and wraps itself around me. I haven’t thought about cutting since Jace took my blades away, but right now, I fucking need it. I need the release and control only cutting can give me.

I stumble off the couch and make my way to the bathroom. I doubt he has razors, but he must have something that can take the pain away. Plan B will be to raid his kitchen for liquor. But I don’t want to be drunk; I want to bleed the way my soul is bleeding.

I step into the bathroom and click the door shut quietly behind me. Then I turn on the sink to drown out any sounds I might make, and I open his medicine cabinet. I find toothpaste, Band-Aids, mouthwash, a beard trimmer…none of these things are remotely helpful. Bingo, scissors.

My fingers wrap around the pair of small, silver scissors that rest beside a bottle of Advil. I’m shaking at I meet my own gaze in the mirror. I hardly recognize the man there. It’s the same man who smiles from magazine covers and speaks out against self-harm. It was the suggestion of a PR firm after the story behind “Crimson Tiles” was leaked by one of the asshole EMT’s who saved my pathetic life. They told me to lean into it and be outspoken about getting help when you need it. So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve sat in interviews with fresh cuts under my clothes and talked about valuing yourself more than self-harm.

“You’re a worthless, lying, piece of shit,” I mutter at my reflection.

I sink down onto the floor and rest my back against the bathtub. I close my eyes and lean my head back, slowly dragging the sharp edge of the scissors along my left forearm. Not hard enough to pierce my skin the first time. This is foreplay, a warm up, as I barely scratch the surface of my skin. I open my eyes on the next pass, pressing harder but still not enough to draw blood, only enough to leave an angry red mark on my skin. I could drag the scissors just a little bit longer; it wouldn’t be difficult to put an end to the bullshit once and for all. How much easier would everyone else’s lives be without me?

I tighten my grip on the cold metal of the handle and drag them in another line, finally pressing down hard enough for a trickle of blood to appear. The knot in my chest loosens a fraction as I watch droplets of crimson ooze from the wound. Not yet satisfied, I go again, pressing down more firmly until I actually have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from letting out a cry. The pain is welcome, even as tears spring to my eyes. My chest heaves as the flow of blood becomes steadier, dripping down onto my bare thigh beneath my arm.

“Lincoln,” Jace’s strained voice makes me blink, pulling my attention from the small puddle forming. “Holy fucking shit.” Just like before, he grabs a towel and hurries to kneel beside me.

His presence is soothing, even more soothing than the pain. I want to kiss him, hold him, make him promise to let me stay with him forever.

“What did you do, Linc?” he asks sadly. I hold up my arm in way of explanation, and he wraps the towel around it. “You might need stitches; that’s a lot of blood.”

I shrug and avoid his gaze. I don’t want to see the disappointment there.

“I can’t go to the ER; they’ll sell the story to the gossip magazines.

“I could do it, but I don’t exactly have the tools here.”

“I can call Archer; he’ll find someone who can come over and do it.”

“Does Archer have a guy for everything?”

“Pretty much.”

“All right, call him, because this definitely needs stitches,” Jace declares after peeking under the towel.

“I need my phone.”

“If I leave you alone for thirty seconds are you going to try to off yourself again?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I didn’t try to off myself,” I argue.

“I’m done arguing with you about this,” Jace huffs, getting up and leaving the bathroom. I can hear his footsteps as he literally runs for my phone and sprints back like he’s truly convinced I’m going to kill myself if he’s gone for more than fifteen seconds. He hands over my phone, and I hit the first speed dial to bring Archer up.

“Hello?” Archer’s voice sounds thick, but not with sleep. Shit, I totally interrupted something.

“Hey, sorry, I…uh…”

“Lincoln, what’s wrong?” he demands, the sexy tone falling away as he catches up with what’s happening.

“I had an…um…incident,” I admit, feeling the shame creep through me.

“Dammit to hell. Are you okay? Are you in the ER? Are you alone?”

“I’m okay,” I assure him, and Jace makes a noise of disagreement in the back of his throat. “The friend I’m with is a doctor, and he says I need stitches. But he doesn’t have the tools to do them at home. I know I can’t go to the ER. I thought you might have someone you could call to come over and sew me back together?” I ask with a forced light tone.

“I’ll take care of it. Text me the address, and I’ll get someone over there. Does he have the bleeding under control right now?”

“Yeah, it’s all good.”

After sending Jace’s address to Archer, I chance a look in Jace’s direction, and I see all the pain and disappointment I expected.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“Why?” he snaps. “Why do you do this, Linc?”

“I don’t know. I’m fucked up, okay? I thought there was a chance I could win you back for real. I convinced myself if I did everything exactly right, there could be a second chance between us. And when I realized tonight you’d never be able to forgive me, I just couldn’t take it.”

Jace is quiet for a long time as he sits, keeping pressure on my arm, and we wait for the doctor to arrive.

“I never said there wasn’t a chance. I just needed a little time to sort my head out.”

“Really?” I ask with renewed hope.

“You’ve always been my weakness, Linc. I might always hurt over what you did. But you’re not who I thought you’d become. You’re still the person I fell in love with and…” He pauses, chewing his bottom lip as I hold my breath.

“And?” I prompt when I can’t take the suspense any longer.

“And, I want to give this a real chance, us a real chance.”

A sob tears from my chest, and I grab Jace with my uninjured arm, dragging him to me so I can taste the perfect lips that just made every dream I’ve ever had come true.

His mouth is sweet against mine, his tongue teasing mine as I seek out more of him.

A knock at the door breaks the moment but can’t burst the bubble of joy in my chest.

“That was fast,” Jace notes.

“Archer probably told the guy I was bleeding to death.”

Jace stands up and helps me get to my feet. He leads me to the kitchen table and then goes to the front door.

The doctor is a quiet man who I probably paid a fortune to come over here in the middle of the night and keep his mouth shut about it. It doesn’t take long for him to declare me good as new and be on his way.

“Well, that was more exciting than I’d planned for tonight.” Jace yawns.

“Do I have to go back to the couch?” I ask sheepishly.

He sighs and then gives me a little smile.

“Go wash the blood off yourself and then come to bed with me. And I hope you know that if I’m your boyfriend again, this shit isn’t going to slide anymore. We are going to talk about this and resolve it, because I’m not going to worry every fight might end in a bloodbath.”

I give a small nod of understanding and then go to the bathroom to clean myself up, unable to keep myself from smiling. He said boyfriend.