Snippets - Part Two
This is a collection of small scenes and snippets of stories that were just floating around in my head. They don't belong to any particular series or story, so they're pretty much orphaned blips that I have gathered together to post here.
THIRTEEN
"Are you okay?" Bill asked softly as he sat beside Tom and dropped his hand on his brother's knee."Yeah," his voice said, while his every ounce of his heart and soul screamed "no".
Bill pat his knee, then gave it a squeeze, wondering if his twin would ever be the same again. "Do you want to go out? Get some food or something?"
"No," Tom shook his head and pulled his knees to his chest, knocking Bill's hand out of the way in the process.
Bill pursed his lips and frowned with worry as he watched Tom's arms go around his legs and his chin dip between his knees. "If you-"
"I'm fine, Bill," Tom mumbled into his jeans.
"I know," Bill lied. "I'm just sayin', if you need to talk or something-"
"I don't," Tom had yet to meet Bill's eyes. "Go pick up Tilly. This is your weekend, right?"
"Yeah," Bill said softly as his eyes fell to the floor. It was his weekend with his daughter, but suddenly he didn't want to go get her. She was his life, his whole life, but bringing her back to the house may be harder on all of them than he was willing to admit.
"Give her a hug for me," Tom voice broke as he tilted his chin lower and rested his forehead against his knees. Bill couldn't be certain, but the shaking of his shoulders said he might be crying.
The right words to say escaped Bill's mind as he put his arm over Tom's shoulders and held him in a one armed hug. "I'm sorry," Bill whispered. Tom didn't move or respond, and Bill's heart broke at the sound of his breath being exhaled in one shaky movement. "I'll call Maribeth and tell her I can't take Tilly this weekend."
"No," Tom said, barely audible through his knees.
Bill kissed Tom's temple and let his lips linger for a moment in a brotherly embrace. If it were possible for Bill to take some of the hurt, he would. He'd always handled emotional stuff like this better than Tom, and he felt like he deserved it.
An hour later, Bill opened the front door with his crumb covered daughter in his arms. Her three bags hung precariously from his free hand. He dropped the bags in the hall, then let the baby loose. "Stay here, Liebste," Bill tried to grab her arm before she toddled away, but she'd spotted Tom on the couch and was making a beeline for her favorite uncle.
"Taaa," she said in her tiny voice as she pat his shoe with an innocent and excited smile.
"I'm sorry. Hang on," Bill scooped Tilani up and started out of the room.
"No, wait," Tom unfolded himself and looked to Bill with red rimmed eyes and swollen lips. "Can I?"
"Tom, it's okay. I'll take her upstairs."
"Let me hold her," Tom nodded and extended his arms to take the baby. She happily dove into his arms and he held her close. She giggled into his neck as Tom used one arm to support her bottom and let the other rest on the back of her head. He leaned back into the couch so that she was laying on his chest, and stroked her baby fine curls.
All twenty nine pounds of her was a warm bundle of unconditional love. Tom's heart beat against his chest as his face crumpled and he cried into the little girls pink outfit. Gently, almost without thinking, he began to rock backward and forward in a hypnotic motion.
Bill was at Tom's side almost without moving, with his arm over Tom's shoulders holding him close. They rocked together with the baby between them, shameless tears falling down their manly cheeks. Tom for his loss, and Bill for his brother. Tilani wiggled and baby talked for a minute before sinking into the comfort of her uncle's arms, letting her little fingers rake open and closed on his shoulder through his shirt.
"I'm sorry," Bill whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Me too," Tom nodded. He just wanted to hold Tilani forever. For a moment, a few hours at the most, he'd floated above cloud nine, thinking he'd have his own little piece of him to cuddle and rock to sleep every night. "I wanted it."
"I know," Bill's hand found the back of Tom's head and pat him like he would Tilani when she was upset.
"Why didn't she?" Tom whispered, but his voice cracked anyway.
"I don't know, Tom," which was an understatement. He couldn't even fathom why.
"It's not fair."
"No," Bill shook his head. "It's not." He held his twin closer as his daughter closed her eyes and began to doze off, content in the warmth of her father and uncle.
FOURTEEN
"Hello?" he answered the phone with a sigh as he pressed his palm against his burning eyes. It had been a long day. All he wanted to do was lay on the couch for the rest of the night."Hey, Tom," she forced a smile as concern threatened to take over. He sounded awful.
"Jaycee! Hey, baby," his smile sounded genuine, but she could tell it was taking the last of his energy. "What's up?"
"Not much. I was calling to say hi, and see how things are."
"Things are good."
"Yeah? That's good."
"Uh huh."
"I ran into Bill yesterday. He said to tell you hi."
"Yeah? I haven't talked to him since the weekend," he sighed again as he rubbed his hand from his eyes up into his hair. "He had a modeling thing or something."
"Karl Lagerfeld's fashion show. Yeah."
"That's right."
"He did well. I watched him walk the runway."
"Awesome. I'll have to call him," he yawned and tried to keep his eyes open as the sound of rain began outside. "It's raining."
"It's raining here too," she smiled. It made her feel connected for the first time in weeks.
"Rain makes me miserable," he mumbled.
"Sounds like it."
"What?"
"You- You sound miserable."
"I'm not," he insisted weakly. Denying it made him that much more miserable. "I miss you."
She paused for a moment as she pulled her jacket tighter around her. "I miss you too."
"So much."
"So much," she nodded.
"This morning, I was on my way to a meeting with this guy. I looked out the window on the train as we went across the bridge. There was a seagull flying between the cables that were holding the bridge up. He was just- Right there."
"Yeah?" Tears blurred her vision as she heard him come to life.
"It was poetic, really. If I had a camera, I would have taken dozens of pictures. He was just floating along, then he left."
"Hmm."
"I wonder if he does that every day."
"You'll have to go back to check."
"Yeah," he nodded and sank back into his miserable state. The magical moment was gone. "I want to write about something like that."
"You should."
"The freedom of flight. Not having to be somewhere."
"Mm-hmm," she nodded and leaned closer to the building.
"There are so many things around here that cause me to want to write, but I just- I can't. I mean, it's just not coming."
"Yeah," she nodded and bit her lip.
"It could be because I'm here alone. I don't have you or Bill or anyone to go, 'listen to this,' all the time."
"You can always call and play over the phone," she said softly. He nodded and she could hear the rustle of clothing on his end of the phone. She knew that wasn't the same as being there. "I miss hearing you play. Is your guitar handy?"
"Yeah," he nodded again, and knew what she was going to ask. He picked it up and plucked a few chords. "Any requests?"
"Colorblind," she smiled.
"Depressing," he shook his head and tried not to think of the lyrics that immediately flooded his mind.
"It's not depressing."
"It is when I'm sitting here with a guitar in my lap, instead of my girl."
"Just play it for me," she smiled as she ran her finger over the buttons on the call box by the door. "Make me happy."
"That would make you happy?"
"Yeah."
"I'd do anything to make you happy."
"I know."
"Anything," he said as he began to play the familiar song, with the phone precariously wedged between his shoulder and ear. His voice seemed to change as he sang the song they both knew well.
He sighed as the last words left his lips. And she rang the bell.
FIFTEEN
"What'cha got there?" Gustav asked as he slid into the booth across from Berlynn."Rice bowl," she replied without looking up. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the neighborhood," Gustav shrugged and reached for Berlynn's drink. He sucked through the straw and made a face, "I hate Dr. Pepper."
"I didn't order it for you."
"Yeah, well," Gustav shrugged and sat back. "So-"
"What?"
"Is that good?" he looked at the rice bowl in front of Berlynn. Her chopsticks were sticking out of one end. The only thing that looked eaten was half of an egg roll sitting on top.
Berlynn sighed and looked up at Gustav through her floppy unbrushed hair. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the mood for Chinese food," Gustav took the fortune cookie from Berlynn's tray and opened it. "Let's see," he cracked the cookie open and pulled out the printed piece of paper. "'Life is short. Apologize while you can, even if you weren't at fault.'," Gustav read slowly, though he had made up the words on his own.
"That's not what it says," Berlynn made a face and brought the greasy egg roll to her mouth with her fingers.
"Yeah-huh," Gustav crumpled up the paper and crammed it in his pocket.
"I'm not apologizing."
Gustav shrugged with one shoulder and took another sip of Berlynn's Dr. Pepper. "It's just a fortune cookie. What does a cookie know about your personal life anyway?"
"Nothing," Berlynn said around the half chewed egg roll in her mouth. She took her drink back and washed down the mouthful of egg roll, then wiped her mouth with the crinkled napkin. "I don't see him saying he's sorry. Why should I?"
"You could be the bigger person."
"I could be the bigger person by apologizing for walking into his house and catching him making out with someone else right in front of me? How would that make me bigger? What do I have to be sorry about?"
"I'm thinking you could apologize for destroying his living room, or for kicking the shit out of his car door, or for punching him in the face."
"I wasn't aiming for him. I was aiming for Andreas."
"Yeah, but he doesn't know that."
"I would never hit him."
"But you'd hit Andreas?"
"In a heartbeat," Berlynn looked up as she put her hand on her chopsticks. She maneuvered them before she lifted a bite of rice and chicken to her mouth.
"It takes two."
"So I should punch them both?"
"That's not where I was going with that," Gustav shook his head and looked over Berlynn's shoulder at the menu. "I'm just saying that if you're mad at Andi, you're mad at the wrong person. Andi's single. He wasn't breaking any rules."
"Uh, yeah, he was. He was making out with my boyfriend," Berlynn dropped her voice and licked a stray piece of rice from her lower lip.
"He didn't know."
"Ha!"
"How would he know you were seeing Bill?"
"How did you know?"
"Because I know everything," Gustav shrugged. "Bill has this thing where he believes has to tell me everything. He thinks it shocks me, but it doesn't."
"He tells you everything?"
"Yeah," Gustav sighed and looked at Berlynn's rice bowl, craving a piece of the sweet and sour chicken covering the top.
"Everything?"
"The night with the candles? The wax in the hair? Yeah. Everything." Gustav reached across the table and stole a piece of chicken while Berlynn's mouth gaped open.
"No way."
"Way," Gustav chewed, then paused to lick his fingers. "Wow. That is really good. Be right back," he jumped up and went to the counter to order, while Berlynn collected herself and took another few bites.
When Gustav returned with a rice bowl of his own, he looked like a lion scoping out its fallen prey. He carefully turned the bowl around to view it from every angle as steam rose from the mound of sweet and sour chicken. "So-"
"What?" Berlynn erased her look of wonder, and replaced it with a frown.
"Are you gonna go apologize or not?"
"Not."
"Okay," Gustav shrugged and took a bite, leaving his mouth hanging open as he breathed. "Hasahg," he fanned at his mouth with his hands, then swallowed as fast as he could while his eyes watered. "Hot!"
"You'd think the steam would have given you a hint," the corner of Berlynn's mouth turned up in a smile.
"Bite me," Gustav went in for another bite, but blew on it first. Berlynn finished her rice bowl in silence, while Gustav made several other sounds of pain, along with loud chomping, as he tried to eat his. When Berlynn was done, she sat back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest just to finish watching Gustav.
"He told you about the wax?" Berlynn asked when Gustav's meal had cooled down enough for the older man to eat with his mouth closed.
"Yeah," Gustav swallowed, then took another drink of Berlynn's soda. "Kids," he rolled his eyes, then slid the soda back across the table. "Shit like that is only sexy in porno films."
"Mm-hmm," Berlynn made a soft sound of agreement.
"Listen, he just tells me that kind of thing because he thinks it'll shock me. He should know by now that I've done more than half the things he's telling me, and the other half is stuff that Tom's already done because Tom is one freaky fucker."
"Tom tells you everything too?"
"Yeah, and if you think we don't know about the make out session you and Tom shared after the MTV awards a few years ago, you are sadly mistaken," Gustav shook his fork at Berlynn. "I swear, would it kill you to stay in your own band or something? I mean, we don't send Georg out to sniff around Cyla's ass or whatever."
"Cyla's-"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It doesn't matter. It was an example," Gustav shook his head and shoveled another bite of rice into his mouth.
"Hmm," Berlynn shrugged and stared out the window. She wondered for a minute why she didn't just get up and leave. Gustav was a big boy, he could finish his meal on his own, but something kept her there, and she didn't want to admit that it was concern.
"So," Gustav said again as he stuck a big piece of chicken in his mouth. He chewed for a minute, then swallowed most of it and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "His nose isn't broken and he didn't lose any teeth."
"I didn't hit his nose," Berlynn frowned.
"Well, it's all bruised up and everything. Maybe he hit it when he fell. Who knows? I just know it's not broken."
"Okay," Berlynn shrugged and tried to act uninterested.
"His lip is swollen though. He looks like Rocky Balboa, kind of."
"Mmm."
"Not that I've really seen him. I went by yesterday to drop off some shit he left at my place, which I have to tell you, was a long damn time ago. He's been all wrapped up in 'Berlynn likes candles' and 'Can you believe we did it in the pool?' or 'I can't wait to see her again!' So much so that he's ignored the fuck outta me. I was gonna give him a piece of my mind, but he didn't look like he was in the mood for any kind of good-natured joking."
"Hrmph. I bet."
"You messed up the pretty boy's face, but that's okay with me. I mean, yeah, he deserved it."
"You think so?"
"Think so? I know so. He's had it coming for a while now. I'm just glad you did it and not me, because you can at least pull the 'woman scorned' card. All I'd have is the 'asshole friend' card," Gustav sighed and reached for Berlynn's drink again. "He deserved to be hit. I'm not arguing with you there, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize."
"If you're gonna keep banging on about that, I'm gonna leave."
"I'm not keeping you here. You wanna leave, go ahead. Just leave your drink," Gustav raised his eyebrow, then stuck the straw in his mouth.
SIXTEEN
Gustav walked up behind her. He draped one arm over her shoulder and the other under her arm to hold her in a crisscrossed embrace. His chin rested on her shoulder with his mouth against the side of her neck. "What'cha doing?" he asked in a low, rumble. A voice that could have been mistaken for his I-just-woke-up voice, but at four in the afternoon, it was actually his I-want-to-fuck-you-right-here-and-now voice."Getting cereal," she said softly as his lips brushed against her neck.
"The kind with marshmallows?"
"No."
"Count Chocula?"
"No," she giggled and raised her shoulder to stop his lips from tickling her neck.
"We need Count Chocula," he rocked her back and forth, sending her a little off balance. When her feet came off the ground, his remained steady, as he held her weight. He laughed softly. "Please?"
"Fine," she gave in, but didn't move from his arms to grab the box from the shelf. Her fingers trailed down his sleeve-covered arm and stopped at his cuff to trace his wrist through the material. She slid her hand over the back of his and laced their fingers together. His were short and rough, but they fit nicely with her delicate manicured fingers.
"I'll even let you have some," he nipped at her neck, then let go of her hand to grab the cereal from the shelf and put it in their cart. "See how much I love you? I'm willing to share my Count Chocula with you."
"You know that's the sign of true love, right?" she rolled her eyes, but smiled knowing that, to him, it was.
He gave her body a squeeze, before he released her from his embrace. He held her hand as he pushed the cart the rest of the way down the aisle. She walked close to him, bumping into him with every step. "Am I crowding you?" he asked as he looked at her with a playful grin. "You're walking all over me."
"The cart isn't wide enough for both of us to push."
"Okay, here," he kept one hand on the handle of the cart and let her slide in front of him. "There." She stepped between him and the cart as she placed her hands on the handle. He put his hands beside hers and walked behind her as they both pushed the cart. "Is that better?"
They stumbled down the aisle like that for a few steps before they both laughed. "You're crazy," she shook her head and turned her chin up to look at him. "You know that?"
"Crazy for you," he dropped a quick kiss on her lips.
"I'm not going to let you come shopping with me anymore."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay, let's get out of here. It's boring. We have Count Chocula and Easy Mac, what more would we need?"
"Nothing," she said as she shook her head.
"Right," he kissed her again, then bumped her out of the way as he took control of the cart. "Los."
SEVENTEEN
Bill sat in his car and stared at the glowing clock on his dashboard. It was nearly three in the morning. There were only five other cars in the parking lot of Aldi. For a second, he thought maybe there would be a line at the check out. He remembered that most of those cars probably belonged to the employees on the night shift.His dome light went off, bathing the interior of the car with darkness. That meant he'd been sitting there with the keys in his lap for longer than ninety seconds. He signed and pushed the door open as he stepped out into the cool, damp air. The only reason he was there was because there was a slim possibility that he could go grocery shopping for himself. For quite a few years, he had people do his shopping for him, or he'd shop online and pay the outrageous delivery fee to have them brought his door.
He missed pushing the cart along the aisles. He missed checking the labels, comparing products, buying impulse items, squeezing loaves of bread and thumping melons. He missed it because anytime he stepped into a public place, he'd get roughly 10 seconds of "me" time before people began to approach him as if they were lifelong friends.
He knew that sounded shallow and conceited, but it was true. The last time he'd set foot in this particular Aldi, he was on the way to a barbecue at a friend's house. He'd promised to bring the beer. He parked his car in the first available spot, slid his cap over his head, and walked in wearing sweatpants, a T-shirt, and flip flops. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looked like any other 20-something year old hitting up the store for snacks and beer. As soon as he stepped onto the aisle with alcohol, three fourteen-year-old girls approached him. Their voices were many decibels over what anyone would deem as publicly appropriate.
It took the better portion of 45 minutes just to grab two cases of beer and get back to his car. By then, there was a gaggle of teenage girls outside. He figured the cellular industry had found a niche in young girls between the ages of twelve and seventeen.
But this was different. It was too late for that age group to be out. He hoped that the only thing he'd find inside would be bored store clerks and weary looking adults picking up frozen pizzas for a midnight snack.
He walked in the entrance and selected a cart. "Here goes nothing."
EIGHTEEN
Georg tapped his feet on the bottom rung of his chair and hummed softly under his breath. Gustav nudged his shoulder and shook his head slightly to get him to stop humming. Georg looked up and frowned, then kicked at Gustav's foot and crossed his eyes."I can hear you," Gustav barely whispered as he tapped his in-ear monitor and narrowed his eyes at Georg. He unscrewed the cap to the water bottle in his hands and brought it to his lips to take a sip.
"Boo hoo," Georg whispered back as he sat back in his chair and stretched. He'd toned out Bill's voice as he rambled on with an answer to the interviewer's question. Georg missed the next question the interviewer asked. Tom cleared his throat to prepare to answer, then bent down get his own water bottle by his feet.
As soon as he bent, Gustav choked on the water in his mouth. Georg's jaw dropped nearly into his lap. Bill sprang into motion as he reached forward and grabbed the back of Tom's shirt to pull him upright.
"What? I was just getting my water," Tom laughed and raised his empty hands.
"Here," Bill took the water from Gustav, who was turning bright red as he sputtered, and handed it to Tom.
"Bill-"
"Drink that one," Bill smiled as Georg pounded Gustav on his back.
"Did you-" Gustav started to ask as Bill nodded quickly. Georg pounded on Gustav's back again.
"Go ahead, Tom," Georg stuttered and looked at Bill with wide eyes.
"Thanks," Tom rolled his eyes with an apologetic smile and answered the question for him.
"I think we need a break," Bill smiled at the interviewer and stood up, pulling Gustav with him.
"What?" the interviewer looked at them and frowned.
"Five minutes," Bill nodded. "Thanks," he raised his hand to the startled interviewer, then pushed Georg and Gustav into the private room behind the curtain. "Tom?" he called from out of sight.
"We'll be right back," Tom stood and hiked his pants up, then went back to the room with the others.
Once they were all there, Bill shut the door and turned on Tom, "What the fuck?"
"What?" Tom looked bewildered as he looked from the startled face of Georg to the still red and coughing face of Gustav. "What?"
"Um," Bill reached over and tugged the hip of Tom's jeans down slightly to expose an string of shimmery pink material. "That?"
"It's-" Tom started to explain.
"A fucking thong!" Georg said finally. He pulled the back of Tom's pants out to see for himself.
"Hey!" Tom's hand whipped around to knock Georg's away. "Stop it!"
"You're wearing a thong," Bill shook his head slowly.
"A fucking sparkly pink thong," Georg's eyes remained twice as large as normal.
"A Victoria's Secret thong," Gustav added.
"A what?!" Bill and Georg exclaimed in unison.
"It's-" Tom started to explain.
"Oh-" Bill closed his eyes and put his hand on his forehead. "Tom, it's cool and all, but at an interview?"
"It's not like he could see it or anything," Tom said, finally able to get a full sentence out.
"It's a thong!" Georg repeated, in case anyone missed it the first time.
NINETEEN
The sterile scent of the hospital is something no one can ever forget. The rattling of carts filled with food trays, the squeak of sneakers on the shiny linoleum floor, the shrill ringing of phones, the steady beep of monitors, the urgent calls over the intercom; they're all the sounds associated with hospitals. This time was no different.From where he stood, he could feel his life changing. With every glance from all the nurses that passed, to the visitors bearing flowers and balloons, he felt the change. The call came early that morning and woke him out of a deep sleep. He'd only been asleep for three hours when the ring from his cell phone roused him, but it was the voice on the other end that brought him fully awake with just two little words. He didn't remember how he got to the hospital. He could remember grabbing a jacket and sliding his feet into his shoes. The next thing he remembered was being at the hospital entrance staring at the automatic doors as they opened and closed in response to his weight on the sensors.
"In or out, please," a nurse finally said as it opened for the tenth time.
"Sorry," he mumbled and stepped off the black mat. In or out. She made the decision seem so simple. In or out. Yes or no. Black or white. When it came down to it, it really was that simple, but knowing that and taking the next step to decide on the answer were two different things.
He knew he couldn't wait forever. He knew that in a few hours they'd send out a search party to find him. He didn't have long at all, but there was always time for a cigarette. Smoking was nothing new for him. In all honesty, he'd been smoking since he was far to young to even think about it. He only did it to look cool at first, but then it became a habit. People had told him that he'd get lung cancer, but he'd reply saying, "I've gotta die somehow." He did tend to be a little dramatic, and it happened more than he'd care to admit, but he knew this was one of those times. He was at the hospital. Inside those walls were the characters who would shape the rest of his life, and there was nothing he could do to change that. Everything had already happened, it was just waiting for him to get there.
The lighter flicked a bright orange flame as he inhaled deeply. He got three drags into it before his stomach turned. He dropped the glowing cigarette into the concrete ashtray and licked his dry lips. The automatic doors opened again as he stepped on the mat to lean against the wall.
As they opened, the nurse looked up again and frowned. "Sorry," he mumbled before stepping through the doors and into the fluorescent waiting room. The only reason he was inside was to keep the nurse from flogging him, but now that he was there he wasn't sure what to do. As more people came through the door, he pushed himself against the wall to give them plenty of room to get by. His shoulder bumped a floor plan on the wall and he turned to study it. Staring at the map gave him the appearance of purpose. He studied it, located the restrooms, followed the blue line to the cafeteria, hunted down the elusive pharmacy, then located the department he was summoned to. The third floor. He pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder at the elevators behind him with a look of confusion.
How could something so common, something he'd ridden on millions of times, seem so daunting? Like a fiery chariot coming to carry him to his fate. As soon as the Hades reference entered his mind, he shook it clear and blushed. He couldn't think negatively. Positivity would be the only thing that would carry him through the next few hours, if he could just get to the third floor to face it.
He sighed and turned back to the map, "Where's the emergency exit?" he muttered softly under his breath. Stalling was something he excelled at, but eventually he'd have to face his future. The third floor.
TWENTY
Korinne held the phone to her ear in an attempt to hear through the crackle of Tom's cell phone. "Where are you?" She raised her voice with the hope that it may help."What?" Tom's voice was clear for the first time.
"Where are you?" Korinne repeated.
"Ho-"
"Are you at home?"
"I'm- ah- mm- ouse-" Tom's voice cut out with every word.
"If you can hear me, Tom, I'm going to call you at home," Korinne practically shouted before she hung up and rested her head in her hands. The hotel room was dark, but everything around her lately seemed dark. The sky was a steel grey as it threatened snow and sleet. Only now it started to produce both, which kept her locked inside. She carefully picked up the California snow globe that Tom had sent her in a "warm up" care package more than a month ago. The palm trees were an annoyingly bright green and the multi-colored sea shells floated around like a snowstorm. Seashells were California's version of snow.
She gave it a tiny shake to set the shells in motion again, then picked up her cell phone and tapped the screen a few times. Six thousand miles away, Tom heard the sound of the phone ringing.
"Is that you?" Tom answered the phone with a laugh.
"It's me," Korinne smiled back.
"My cell phone sucks."
"Especially from half a world away," Korinne set the snow globe down and watched the seashells fall.
"Yeah, no kidding. Your phone makes your voice sound clear."
"I know."
"At least I can hear you now," Tom ran his hand through his dreadlocks and leaned forward on the marble island in his huge kitchen. "So anyway."
"Anyway."
"What are you up to?"
"Not much. The training has been suspended right now and it's snowing outside."
"So you're stuck in your hotel?"
"Yes and no. I'm allowed to go out or whatever, I just-"
"You don't want to," Tom finished her sentence for her.
"It's snowing" Korinne said again. "Like crazy."
"And you don't get along well with snow."
"I didn't think this through well," Korinne shook her head and pulled the curtains over her window so she wouldn't have to watch her dreams falling away.
"Sure you did."
"Tom-" Korinne sighed and collapsed into the huge leather chair in the corner under the standing lamp. "Part of me just wants to come home," Korinne said softly after a moment's pause. She'd been thinking it for a while, but had never said the words aloud until then. When Tom didn't respond, Korinne thought for a second that they'd been disconnected. That would have been fine with Korinne. The next words would be easier to say if she thought no one was there. "This whole thing is harder than I thought. It's a bigger hassle with the money. They actually gave me a ticket to go home, but-"
"Don't use it," Tom said quickly, surprising Korinne.
"I'm not," Korinne covered her eyes with her hands. "Part of me wants to though."
"If you come back here you'll never go back there."
"So?"
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."
"I have to get out of here, Tom, just until things settle down and they let me back into the program."
"Then go somewhere else. Meet up with Bill in England or whatever."
"He's not in England anymore. He's been stateside for two weeks now."
"Really?" Tom asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah. He called from your mom's house a few nights ago."
"Hmm."
"Hmm," Korinne mimicked Tom and secretly wished he could say the rest of what was on his mind.
"Well, I-" Tom started. He stopped and breathed softly into the phone. "I don't, uh- I'm not really working on anything right now. Maybe I could- I mean, if you want, I could go there."
"To Russia? Yeah, right."
"I mean, if you have things-"
"Tom, you don't want to come to Russia," Korinne said softly.
Tom licked his lips and tried to force 'yeah, I do' from his lips, but the truth was, he didn't. He liked warm weather and beaches. Snow and ice were not his thing, he and Korinne were alike in many ways. "Okay, but maybe we could meet in Hawaii or something."
"Hawaii?"
"That's about halfway between us, right?"
"I- I guess so."
"Or Japan."
"Japan?"
"We've never been to Japan."
"Yeah, we have," Korinne smiled. "Years ago."
"I don't remember so it doesn't count," Tom laughed lightly. "Let's meet up in Japan. It'll be fun. We could both use a break."
"You need a break from doing nothing?"
"I need a break period," Tom nodded. "So will you do that? Instead of coming home, will you just take a little break and meet me in Japan?"
"I- I don’t know, Tom."
"I can be there this weekend."
"I don't know if-"
"Yeah, you do. You don't have training and you can hop a flight or a train and get there by this weekend."
"Yeah, but hotels and-"
"I'll do that," Tom actually sounded excited. "I'll take care of all that."
"You'll call Dunja and have her do it."
"Same thing," Tom shook his head. "I'll do that tonight and call you tomorrow. Start packing."
"Seriously. You don't have to go to Japan. I really think- I'll be home soon anyway."
"Yeah well, when you're done with training, you can come home, but that may be a while. In the meantime, I'll see you this weekend."
"Are you gonna see if the other guys want to come?"
"Gustav's still in Germany."
"Georg?"
Tom paused and thought for a second. "Nope. This is just for you and me. I think that'll be good. We need it." His voice dipped lower at the end and Korinne's heart skipped a beat. "It's been a while since we got to take a vacation together."
"The Maldives last year."
"Yeah," Tom smiled and closed his eyes, feeling the cool ocean breeze against his skin at the memory. "So yeah. Get packed. I'll call with the details."
"Thanks, Tom. Really. I mean, thanks for everything."
"Anytime, you know that."
"I know."
"Okay."
"I'll see you this weekend," Korinne nodded, not quite believing that in four days she'd actually get to see Tom.
"Yeah. Love you."
"I, uh-" Korinne paused as she heard Tom inhale sharply. "Love- Love you too."
"Bye," Tom said quickly as he hung up the phone, leaving Korinne staring at the phone in her hand, wondering what exactly had just happened.
TWENTY-ONE
Sometimes you're get so tired that you notice nothing. You're so tired that your ears are ringing, your eyes are blurred, your head hurts, your lips tingle, your fingers feel three times their normal size, your heartbeat is so loud it's annoying and your legs weigh a ton so your feet drag.You can notice all that about yourself, but you don't notice when someone is standing beside you, talking to you, asking if you're okay. You can't hear their voice over the ringing and pounding in your head. When they finally reach out and touch you to get your attention, your head moves like it's suspended in molasses. Your eyes take a minute to look up and meet their awake and smiling brown eyes.
"What?" you mumble. Your lips and mouth seem to be disconnected from the rest of your body. The word echoes through your head like a foghorn and you wonder why you can't sleep forever.
"What time did you get in last night?" he asks again as he tries not to laugh. You know that whatever time you got in, it was well after he did. He's just gloating because he can, and he knows that you will have to think for a full minute before you put the words in the right order.
"Six. Not night. Thirty. Morning." You don't pause to think. You just say the words as they come to you.
"You came in at six thirty this morning?" his face registers surprise because he knows you're a zombie but he never would have guessed six thirty.
"Don't talk."
"You don't want me to talk to you?"
"No. Go'way." you frown and realize that frowning takes more energy than you're ready to give.
"Come on," he touches your arm again and you can actually feel all the ridges of his fingerprints. Suddenly every sound, movement and sensation is peaked. You can even hear his eyelashes brush his cheeks as he blinks quickly. "You need to lay down."
"I'm fine," you insist out of habit. You've all done the forty-eight hour thing. Some do it better than others, but everyone does it better than you. You haven't lain flat for forty-nine hours and you honestly think your body is going to desert you in some run down alley somewhere just so it can lay still for a week or two.
"I know you are, but you've been staring at your door for like, twenty minutes," he smiles and takes the card key from your hand. You had been meaning to unlock the door yourself, but the message to move your arm never made it from your brain to your muscles. You have no idea how you'll get inside once he nicely opens the door for you.
He pushes the door open and waits for you to move. When you don't, he puts his arm over your shoulder and pushes gently. Your feet move forward without lifting off the carpet and you both almost fall to the floor.
"Don't make me carry you."
"I'm fine," you say again. You're not too tired to feel embarrassed, but as hard as you try, you can't make your feet work.
"Okay," he grunts as he puts his other arm under your knees and lifts you up into his arms as if you're a bride and he's taking you over the threshold. You feel like a fool as he somehow waddles to the bed with you awkwardly in his arms. He deposits you ungracefully on the bed and sighs heavily. "I'll call your manager and tell him you're out of commission for the rest of the day."
"Week," you try to joke, but he doesn't respond. You wonder if the word actually made it to your lips.
"You gonna be okay?"
You try to say that you'll be fine, but the only thing you manage is to close your eyes and press your lips closed tightly.
"Carrie?" he says your name and you almost don't recognize it. Coming from him, it sounds familiar. "Do you want me to take your shoes off?"
Over the pounding of your heart, you hear his voice and want to answer. You want to tell him that the only thing you want to do is sleep, and to maybe get rid of the insane headache, and to possibly brush your teeth which feel fuzzy at the moment.
"Is that a yes?" he asks. Without opening your eyes, you know he's smiling again because he's just that much of an asshole that seeing you incapacitated is amusing for him.
You don't answer and you wonder if you're now asleep and dreaming as he pulls your sneakers off without untying them. He tugs at the socks and your feet are exposed to the cold air of the hotel room that you think might be blue, but you can't open your eyes to check and you just don't care.
"Do you still sleep naked?" he asks. He knows you do. That's one thing you know he knows so you don't justify it with an answer, as if you could. He pulls on your waistband and works your sweat pants down to your ankles. Your mind is conscious enough to wonder if he'll bother with the panties, then you realize he won't. He doesn't even reach for your shirt. You're snoring now, you can hear it yourself and you can't understand how you can be snoring and still awake. Kind of.
"Carrie?" you hear him say your name, but you can't tell if you’re dreaming or not. That's a sound you hear in your dreams a lot lately, Gustav calling your name; his voice dropped low, just above a whisper as though he didn't want to wake you while getting your attention.
"Mmm," the sounds vibrates off your lips.
"Carrie?" he repeats as his hot hands grasp your ankles and pick them up. Erotic thoughts invade your tired mind and suddenly you feel like you might have a burst of energy, if he's willing.
He moves your feet to the bed and kneels between them, you think. It feels like his knees between yours, but you can't open your eyes to see for sure. "Carrie?" You feel the pressure of his hands on the bed beside your shoulder and his warm breath on your lips and cheeks. The first breath is from his mouth, and you can tell he's had not only a little bit of beer, but chocolate as well. Dark chocolate. Your favorite.
Somehow the message breaks through the weariness surrounding you, and your hands rise to rest on his hips. "Thanks," you mumble in barely a whisper. Had he been further than six inches from your lips, he never would have heard you, but he was closer than that.
"Sweet dreams," he whispers just as softly, then kisses you and you can taste the odd mixture. His tongue lingers on the tip of yours, as if maybe he didn't want to leave, but then you snore into his cheek. He smiles against your lips before falling to the side. He leaves his hand on your stomach as it rises and falls to the tune coming forth from your nose and throat.
Sweet dreams indeed.
TWENTY-TWO
"I want you to hit me as hard as you can!" Tom shouted at Georg as he tried not to laugh."Damn it, I thought you put that movie away," Bill rolled his eyes as he and Gustav stopped at the door to the dressing room where Georg and Tom were facing off.
"I did," Gustav nodded. "But remember yesterday when we stopped at FYE to get Georg that Carley Rae Jepsen CD so he'd just shut up already?"
"Uh huh."
"Yeah, he went in and bought it."
"Damn it! Someone wasn't doing their job."
"I hid the first one and he has yet to find it. I did my job," Gustav shook his head and turned to watch Tom and Georg.
"Come on, Georg. Hit me," Tom insisted as he clenched his stomach muscles and bent slightly at the hips.
"I'm not hitting you, Tom," Georg shook his head and turned to walk away.
"Hit me as hard as you can!" Tom insisted, the playful smile still dancing on his lips.
"You know, it'd serve him right if Georg just hauled off and punched him in the gut," Bill said as he and Gustav watched from the door.
"Yeah, it would," Gustav let a little chuckle escape as he caught Georg's eye and shrugged.
"Come on, pussy boy. Hit me as hard as you can. I can take it," Tom insisted.
Without warning to anyone, Georg reeled his fist back and punched Tom solidly in the stomach. Tom bent in half immediately and hit the ground with his hands clasped over his abdomen.
"Fuck," he wheezed as his face turned red.
Gustav and Bill stood there speechless. They'd only been half-serious when they said Tom would have deserved it, but now that Georg had done it, they weren't sure if they should help or laugh. Laughing won out and they found themselves on the floor parallel to Tom, holding their stomachs as well. They laughed so hard they cried as Tom rolled around groaning. Georg stood above them all, shaking out his bruised hand.
"Shit, Tom, you told me four times to hit you."
"I know," Tom squeaked as he tried to catch his breath.
"I'm sorry."
"S'okay," his voice was as high as Minnie Mouse's but more strained.
"S'okay," Gustav howled with laughter as he imitated Tom for Bill.
"You guys, come on," Georg looked down at Bill and Gustav and shook his head. "He's seriously hurt."
"His ego is hurt," Bill continued to laugh as Tom's face returned to a normal color.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Tom said as he rolled onto his hands and knees.
"Shit," Georg dove under the table to grab a trashcan and forced it under Tom's head. "There."
"Oh God," Tom placed his head in the trashcan but only groaned again instead of throwing up.
"Hey, Tom?" Gustav asked as he wiped his tears away.
"What?" Tom's voice echoed in the trashcan.
"Wanna watch 'Fight Club'?" Gustav didn't get the whole question out before Bill screamed and fell back on the floor in another fit of laughter.
"Fuck you," Tom said from the bottom of the trashcan.
"Hey, Georg. Hit him again," Bill said between gasps for breath.
"You guys are all crazy," Georg shook his head and put his hand on Tom's back. "You okay?"
"Uh huh," he heard in echo.
"Okay. I'll come check on you later," he pat Tom's shoulder then headed for the door. "I swear, you're all insane."
TWENTY-THREE
"I'm not getting one," Georg insisted as he crossed his arms across his chest."Yeah, you are," Lilah looked up from the binder with plastic coated pages. "We all are."
"Bill's not."
"Bill doesn't have any more room," Lilah raised her eyebrow and looked over to where the singer was bouncing his daughter on his hip. They looked at the designs on the wall. Tattoos covered his bare arms with images of animals, symbols, names, bones, and knots. His most treasured tattoo was hidden from sight by his low hanging jeans, his daughter's baby footprint on one of his calves.
"Lilah, I don't want to," Georg whined softly as the blood left his face.
"Georg, you have to," she whined back. "I'll distract you. You won't even feel it." She flipped through a few more pages, then pointed to one. "Here, that's small."
"That's a shamrock," Georg made a face.
"Yeah, for luck. You're lucky."
"I'm lucky? How is the clumsiest member of the band lucky? How is having your buddies and your girlfriend drag you half drunk into a tattoo studio lucky? I'm gonna die, that's not luck."
"Don't be such a drama queen," Lilah leaned over quickly and bounced a kiss off of Georg's forehead.
"I hate needles."
"It's not like a real needle."
"Real or not, it's a needle. I'm not getting one," Georg repeated.
"Stop being a fuckhead," Tom raised his voice from the front of the store. "Pick a little fucking sunflower or something and get on with it. I have places to go and people to do."
"People?" Genevieve raised her eyebrow and licked her lower lip in Tom's direction as she checked out the jewelry in the cabinet by the door.
"Fine, I have places to go and a person to do," Tom corrected his comment.
"Is Trini Baby gonna get one too?" Genevieve's voice raised a few octaves as she reached for the pudgy little hand of the baby in Bill's arms.
"Gee-gee," she smiled to show off her front row of teeth, and kicked her feet as her pink dress hitched up around her armpits, leaving a white ruffled diaper cover out in plain view.
"Yes, I'm your Gee-gee. How cute are you? You're too cute. You must be part kitty," Genevieve cooed as she kissed her chubby cheeks. "So is she?"
"How much did you smoke? I'm not tattooing my kid," Bill moved her to the other arm, adjusting her dress with delicate care before he gave Genevieve a look. Genevieve looked back at Bill with a slow smile and glassy eyes. "Shit, you guys need to cut back," Bill shook his head and ran his tongue over the inside of his lip, causing his new labret piercing to bounce.
"How about pierced? You could get her ears done with little diamond studs or something," Genevieve tucked Trinity's soft curls behind her ear and admired the baby smooth peachy skin of her neck. "How cute would that be?"
"Genevieve, step away from the baby. Keep your piercing ideas away from the little island of innocence," Tom reached over and pulled Genevieve by her waistline.
"I'm getting one," Genevieve said slowly as Tom reached up and flicked her already pierced nipple under her shirt.
"You have one."
"No, another one," Genevieve raised an eyebrow at Tom and smirked.
"Liar," Tom shook his head and tried not to laugh. "If you get one," his eyes wandered to Genevieve's crotch and tried to mentally picture a flash of silver. "I'll get one."
"You will not."
"And neither will you, so we're safe," Tom nipped Genevieve's lower lip and crossed his eyes. "I'm high."
"Yeah, exactly," Genevieve laughed and looked over to where Georg and Lilah were still arguing over the book in Georg's lap. "He hasn't picked one yet?"
"He says he's not getting one," Lilah shook his head.
"I'm not," Georg insisted.
"It's either one of those or one of these," Genevieve raised her shirt to show the barbell through her left nipple.
"Christ," Georg's color disappeared as he closed his eyes and licked his lips.
"Fuck, Genevieve, he's gonna pass out," Lilah scowled as she dropped her arm over Georg's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Georg turned his head so that his nose was nestled in Lilah's armpit. "Come on, you have to do this."
"Fuck you, Lilah."
"Yeah, we'll get to that later. I'll make it worth your while," Lilah's arm drifted down to Georg's lower back and her fingers traced a line from his hip bone to the top of his ass. "I promise you it won't hurt. I wouldn't lie about that, right?" Lilah's voice was soft against Georg's ear as her lips brushed the baby soft lobe.
"I know it won't hurt," Georg tried to sound macho, but the words had difficulty leaving his pale lips.
"Then lets do it," she met Georg's gaze and gave him the smile that was reserved only for Georg. "Come on, ten minutes is nothing. You can do it."
"You too?"
"Yeah. Me too," Lilah nodded and waved the tattoo artist over. They had decided.
One Hour Later
"You guys are too damn much," Bill shook his head as the baby drooled down the side of his neck in her sleep. "I swear I can't take you anywhere.""Shut up," Tom grumbled under his breath as he tried to walk as bowlegged as he could. "Get off me," he scowled at Genevieve who was attempting to use his shoulder for support. "You're a bitch."
"Hey, you're not the only one here who can't feel their genitals!" Genevieve winced as she stepped off the curb.
"Can't feel it? That's all I can feel!" Tom glared over his shoulder, trying to walk slow enough so that nothing below his waist moved. "You're a bitch," he repeated his insult of the evening.
"You're both just idiots so shut up," Bill said over his shoulder. "I swear, if Genevieve jumped off a bridge, Tom, you'd be following right after her."
"We only did that once."
"And, fucker, that was your idea." Tom reached out and smacked Genevieve's shoulder.
"Georg? You okay back there?" Bill stopped in the middle of the street as the light flashed 'walk' to make sure the other two guys were keeping up.
"Uh huh," Georg nodded with his arm over Lilah's shoulders.
"He's okay. I've got him," Lilah took two careful steps and almost fell over with the extra weight of her boyfriend leaning into her.
"Here, take the baby," Bill handed the sleeping child to Lilah, who took her like an expert while Bill helped Georg the rest of the way across the street. "What did you give him?"
"Huh?"
"What's he rolling on?"
"Nothing," Lilah shook her head, her silver hoop earrings grazing Trinity's forehead.
"Nothing?"
"He was a little drunk when we got there. Not bad though, just kinda tipsy," Lilah explained as they crossed the street.
"Did the guy give him anything?"
"Just a tattoo," Lilah grinned and reached to pat Georg's bandaged bicep.
"No!" Georg flinched away and knocked Bill off balance.
"Don't touch the man, he's passing out," Bill moved Georg in front of him and lifted him around his waist to get him on the opposite curb. "Fuck, those two are useless," he said as he watched Genevieve and Tom hobble their way down the sidewalk, swearing at each other and wincing every time they moved.
"Bill?" Georg asked.
"Good, you're awake. What'cha need? I'm trying to get you to the car."
"I got a tattoo," Georg smiled and looked delirious.
"Uh huh, I know. Rock on."
"And I love Lilah."
Bill looked over at Lilah as the woman holding his daughter smiled and blushed. "I know you do. That's nice," Bill said softly to Georg.
"She's on me forever," Georg's sluggish hand reached out and touched Lilah's matching bandage on her opposite bicep.
"Yeah. Tattoos are forever and ever amen," Bill nodded. "Let's get you home now," he adjusted his shoulder under Georg's arm again and they started after Genevieve and Tom.
TWENTY-FOUR
"You're playing truth or dare?" Georg asked as he walked up to the group of four just inside the door."Yeah," Bill said without looking up. "It's my turn."
"Can I play?"
"We've already started," Tom said with a stern look and a set jaw.
Georg ignored him and kept his eyes on Bill. "Clockwise?" he waited until Bill nodded before sitting to his left, making himself next in line.
"We've already started," Tom said again.
"The more the merrier," Gustav smiled.
"This doesn't feel too merry," Bill mumbled under his breath.
"Just go," Lerah sighed.
"Okay, uh- Okay, Georg. Truth or dare?" Bill asked as he craned his neck to the side to look at Georg.
"Fuck this," Tom pushed himself off the floor and brushed the dust from the back of his pants.
"Oh, come on," Lerah reached for his hand to pull him back down.
"No. I'm not playing if no one's going to play by the rules," Tom shook Lerah's hand off his wrist. "We've already started."
"Truth," Georg said as he looked right at Bill.
Bill wasn't prepared for truth. No one ever chose truth. "Um- Okay, is it true that you had your first kiss with someone sitting here?"
"Yes," Georg said quickly. "Tom, truth or dare?"
Tom stared Georg down for a minute, knowing what Georg was trying to do, but not sure which to pick to make it harder on the older man. "Dare," he finally said, though he didn't sit down.
"I dare you to pick truth," Georg said as he stood to face Tom, eye to eye.
"That's not fair," Gustav complained. "That's not how we play."
"I dare you," Georg repeated. Tom stared at Georg with a muscle twitching in his jaw. He blinked his eyes twice and sighed deeply. "Truth, Tom. Did it mean anything?"
The silence that fell over the group was solid. No one said a word and no one looked at Tom, except for Georg, who was still waiting for an answer a full minute later.
"It-" Tom licked his lips as he averted his eyes.
"The truth, Tom."
"Guys, listen-" Gustav started.
"Not now, Gustav." Georg said, leaving his eyes locked on Tom. He saw Gustav and Lerah shift in their seats as Bill scooted back closer to the door looking as if he was going to make a run for it.
"You don't have to answer him," Bill said softly, and Georg knew why he was moving away from the group.
"Yes, he does. That's the rule. Truth or dare. Truth, Tom. Truth," Georg narrowed his eyes at Tom.
"Georg," Lerah reached up from the floor to grab Georg's hand. "C'mon."
"I swear to God, Lerah. If you touch me, I'll kick your ass," his tone showed that he wasn't kidding and with his feet so close to his target, Lerah wasn't going to take that chance. "If you just answer me, it can be your turn." Georg's left eye twitched signaling the others that not only was he serious, but he was nervous as hell.
Tom licked his dry lips, then ran his teeth over his lower lip to tug at the flaking skin. "It's- it's not that easy."
"It is that easy," Georg said. "It either meant something or it didn't, but I'm not going to pussyfoot around here anymore. I want to know one way or the other."
"What difference does it make?" Bill raised his voice with his back pressed against the door.
"Shut up," Lerah frowned at Bill and willed the younger man to be silent.
"What difference does it make?! The guy I've been fucking for seven months suddenly tells me he spent the night with someone else, then walks away. I want to know what the fuck that meant. If it meant nothing, that's one thing. If it meant more than nothing, that's a different thing," Georg explained as his breathing quickened. "In twenty seconds, I'm walking out that door, Tom. I'll walk out and never speak to you again. So you tell me right now, did it mean anything?" If they didn't know him so well, they might have missed the sudden dampening of his eyes and his rapid blinking. Georg waited then said, "Ten."
"It meant everything," Tom said softly. He looked up and met Georg's eyes. "It meant everything, Georg. It meant hurting you and disappointing myself. It meant hurting me and potentially losing everything I love. It meant letting you down and having to come to you to tell you. It meant being honest about something like that for the first time in my fucking life and taking the chance of losing you because of that honesty. It meant realizing that I'm just as fucked up as you've always said I was and that I was so scared of what was happening between us that I freaked. It meant that I was in love with you and can't handle that so I went to screw it up. It meant- It meant everything, Georg. Everything."
"You-?"
"He-?" Lerah looked from Tom to Georg. "He loves you?"
"You-?" Georg blinked several more times and held his breath.
"Yes. Of course I do. What do you think all of this has been about?" Tom threw his hands up in the air. "I love you and it freaked me out, so I did the only thing I could think of to make that freaked out feeling go away. I tried to ruin it."
"Ruin me," Georg lowered his eyes as his stomach sank.
"Ruin us," Tom corrected him. "Things aren't supposed to work out with me. You're supposed to show me the ropes, then break my heart and move on to the next innocent kid," without meaning to, his eyes flitted to Bill.
"Hey, whoa. No," Bill held up his hands and shook his head.
"I'm not supposed to make things work with you?" Georg shook his head in disbelief.
"No. Of course not."
"Fuck you, Tom," Georg narrowed his eyes, but held his ground.
"You weren't supposed to-"
"Stop telling me what I was and wasn't supposed to do. I'm a grown man, Tom. So are you. We can make up our own minds and I made up my mind seven months ago to be with you. Only you. You made the decision eight days ago to be with someone else."
"I'm sorry," Tom whispered.
"Yeah? Well, I'm sorry too," Georg bit his lower lip and took a deep breath.
"No, wait. Guys-" Lerah stood up and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Listen to yourselves. You're standing here telling each other you love each other. Stop talking. Just kiss and make up."
"Lerah," Tom and Georg started at the same time. They stopped, and nodded for the other to go.
"Yeah. See?" Lerah smiled and pushed the two men a step closer to each other. "You're both sorry. You're both in love. Do it."
"Can you guys leave us alone for a minute?" Tom asked softly.
"Tom, I-" Georg started but Tom shook his head and looked up at him again.
"Please?" Tom asked.
Lerah released her grip on their shoulders and followed the other three out of the room, then shut the door tightly behind them. "I love you, Georg," Tom let a little smile escape. "I thought that this would destroy all the feelings I had, but it didn't. I'm sorry."
"Who was it?" Georg asked in a voice just above a whisper.
"What?"
"Who was it?"
"You don't-" Tom inhaled sharply. "It's no one you know. It's no one- It's no one I know."
"Who?"
"His name was Seth."
"Seth?"
"Yeah."
"I hate him."
"I know," Tom nodded slowly and furrowed his brow. "I do too."
"I love you." Georg whispered as he looked up at Tom.
"I love you too," Tom smiled as Georg took a step closer and pulled him into the embrace he'd been missing for a week. "I love you too."