“Cut the crap. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to make you a deal. And trust me, you’re not going to refuse it.”
“Because you’re going to make me?”
“No, because of how much you’re going to want it.”
“What is it?”
“In all seriousness, what is this with Emily and Ben, huh? You want her working for you? Bullshit, you could get any other PR person, journalist, whatever, for half the price.”
“How do you know what I’m paying her?”
“Because I know how much her paper was paying her, and that you’re at least matching that. Apparently you’re a dick, but you’re not stingy.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s good at what she does, if you know what I mean?” The sleazy way he raises his eyebrow makes me want to punch it right off his face. I tangle my fingers with each other behind my back to wait out the impulse.
“And Ben?”
“He’s my son. I don’t need any other reason than that.”
“It wasn’t a good enough reason before now.”
“People change.”
“People don’t change that much.”
“Circumstances change then.”
“Now it’s your turn to cut the crap. We both know what the reason is. It’s me.”
“You’re an arrogant fucker, aren’t you? Why do you think this has anything to do with you?”
“Because you’ve always been jealous of me, ever since high school, ever since I got picked to be first violin in eighth grade and you just could not fucking stand it. We used to be friends, weren’t we? Or don’t you remember? Don’t you remember that once I was being favored in school you had to beat me in other ways. Isn’t that why you asked Emily out in the first place? When you knew that I was in love with her?”
“Fucking hell, are you seriously bringing up all this shit now?”
“No, you brought it up. You made it about this. About me.”
He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink. He’s thinking, he’s thinking what it all means. He comes over and shrugs.
“FINE! Fine. I admit it. I want to you lose everything you have and wither up and fucking die.”
He takes a drink from his glass and slams it down.
“Good. That’s good. But let’s be even more specific. It’s really been about the fortune or really, in your case, the fame isn’t it? That’s what really got your goat all these years. That our band shit all over anything you’ve tried to achieve in the music business for almost a decade.”
He says nothing, but the flicker of hatred in his eyes says it all.
“Well, good. Because this next offer is really going to get your two-inch dick hard. You want what I have? You got it.”
“What?”
“The RockFever Fest. You’ve heard of it, right?”
“Shut up. What are you talking about?”
“You can have it. Your band. Headlining on the Saturday night one-hour set, 9 p. m., broadcast to almost every fucking country in the world. All yours.”
“You’re lying.”
“I didn’t fly all this way to lie to you. I have a life.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You know.”
“Emily.”
“Nope.”
“Then what?”
“Ben.”
“Fuck off.”
“All you have to do is sign these papers, releasing all rights to Ben as his biological father.” I pull out a contract from my back pocket and lay it out in front of him. My heart beats so loud, I press my hand against my chest to stifle the sound.
“What are these?” He leans over, peering at the front page.
“Just some nifty papers I had my lawyers draw up. Come on, what’s there to think about? The star performance in the year’s biggest international gig. In exchange for something you never wanted in the first place.”
“How?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s all in place with the organizers. All you have to do is sign the papers and we will say the word, pull out, and you will replace us.”
“You can’t do that. It’s not your decision.”
“Oh, but we can. We have Dennis, and that’s why we are who we are. And you are still playing opening gigs for us…and on standby lists. But this-this gig will change all that. But of course, you already know that.”
He takes the papers, reading over them, flipping the pages one by one.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Who cares? Isn’t it what you want? Not only is it what you want, but you’re taking it from me. Don’t pretend that’s not getting you all wet.”
His voice is soft, low. “What’s the catch?”
“I told you already. You get the performance of a lifetime, for your little signature on that line.”
He closes his eyes, and I know he’s picturing it. He wants it so bad he can taste it, and it taste like nectar to him.
“Just sign it, Silas. Let’s not waste any more of each other’s time.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, and his knuckles rap on his temple as he thinks. “Can I…will I still be able to visit him?”
“That’ll be up to Emily. But she’s never stopped you before. She wants what’s best for Ben.”
“Can I think about it?”
“You have until the end of the day.”
“That’s not long enough.”
“Then enjoy watching the concert from the nosebleed section.”
I tap the sheet in his hand.
“You want to play? You’ll get these signed to me by the end of the day.”
I slam the door behind me, and only hope that I haven’t fucked it up for everyone.
Emily
I have the first night off in a long time, and can’t wait to sit in front of the TV with a pizza while Ben plays with Legos on the sofa. There’s one more week before his cast comes off, and I don’t know who’s looking forward to it more.
I kick off my shoes and settle back into my couch, lifting a piece of pizza off the box and letting the melted cheese fall into my mouth like a greasy, milky waterfall.
“Hmm, yum,” I moan, as Ben giggles and reaches for his own piece of pizza to do the same. I start to reprimand him before I realize I have no leg to stand on.
I’m happy to see him happy. There are moments when he still wakes up confused and calls for Brad, asking me to call him and just let him say good night. But I believe that going cold turkey is probably the best thing for Ben, to help him forget. As a child, I guess I assume that how he feels, recovers, and processes is different.
Or, I sure hope it is, because if he was feeling anything like the pain I am feeling, then I may never forgive myself.
Brad and I haven’t had any contact since that night texting.
Although it feels like we have, as each night I take out my phone and reread the old message over and over. Ones from the other night, ones from when we were on tour. The ones when it descended into sexting and I realized I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
At least there is news of them as they travel the last legs of their tour. I try to remember my schedule with them and tune into their radio interviews and videos uploaded from their shows.