Clint

Bob paused the game suddenly, without any warning. For a minute, I didn’t realize what was going on, tried to keep playing, and freaked out because I thought my control was broken. Bob laughed at me. Damn him.

“Why’d you pause it, man?” I scowled, angry with my twin for interrupting our playtime. He better have to use the bathroom.

“I just had a thought,” he replied.

I pretended to look shocked and proud until he threw a pillow at my face. I laughed as he mirrored my earlier peeved expression and sent the pillow back, crashing into his side with a soft “whump”.

“No, I was thinking maybe we could invite Zac over. It was more fun beating you with an audience.” It was his turn to grin again.

The smile fell from my face and I tried not to look conspicuous as I thought it over. Bob didn’t know about what I had walked in on with Scott and Taylor earlier, and I knew I probably shouldn’t tell him. It wasn’t my business, after all; I just happened to interrupt it by a freak accident. Then again, I never kept anything from Bob. Not for long anyway...He was already looking at me funny as though he knew I was debating something.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. Then he frowned. “Clint, you’re not jealous of Zac, are you?”

My brow furrowed even more. “What?” Jealous of Zac? Why would I be jealous of Zac?

“Well, I mean, just because he’s better at ‘Tomb Raider’ than you are doesn’t mean I like him better. You’re still my twin brother.” Bob looked serious. Leave it up to Bob to get all emotional and mushy and let’s-talk-about-our-feelings.

I almost laughed, but then I realized what an opportunity this was for me. If I told Bob that something else was bothering me, he’d pry and push until I gave it up and told him what was going on. I really didn’t want to do that. Plus, if I told him it was Zac I was upset about, the probability was that no Hansons would have to set foot in our suite tonight. So instead of laughing into my brother’s sober face, I put on an easy frown – one I was actually already wearing – and sighed. “I know, it’s just...” I looked away, trying to look uncomfortable and suppressing a satisfied grin all at the same time. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to share you, except with Scott. And when Zac’s around, you guys do your drummer thing and...I feel left out.”

Yes. Goddamn, I am good. Thank you, Bob, for being so ditzy and self-centered. Bob isn’t truly too self-centered, but his idea that I was upset because I was jealous of the time he spent with Zac was so off the mark it was almost comical. I enjoyed Zac’s company just as much as Bob, but I didn’t want to have to call and ask him over, risking the chance that Taylor might come with him.

Bob rested his arm on my shoulder in a show of affection, not unusual between the two of us, and watched me. He shoved lightly with his arm and spoke. “How about this...I’ll invite Zac over and I’ll let you play against him. That way there’s no way you can be left out. Hmm?”

I cursed inwardly to myself. It wasn’t working. I decided I would agree, but look reluctant, so that maybe “sensitive Bob” wouldn’t make me deal with a Hanson.

I sighed. “Alright.”

Bob punched me lightly in the side. “Aww, don’t look like that, CT,” he implored, using my childhood nickname for effect. “I promise, I’ll pay more attention to you.”

Dammit. Okay, fine. I tried my hardest and managed to make a fool of myself in the process.

Bob frowned. “I’ll call, but I’m not going to invite Taylor. I don’t want any repeats of the other night going on.”

I looked wide-eyed at him as he turned to grab the phone. Oh. My. God.

Isaac

Zac put the receiver down and turned to me. “Nope,” he said. “They haven’t seen him.”

“Okay, then. It’s L.A. He’s probably at a club.”

Zac looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you kidding me? This is Taylor we’re talking about. He hates clubs.”

I merely shrugged and Zac walked away muttering something about an “idiot”. I didn’t pay much attention. The phone rang again just as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is Zac around?”

I raised an eyebrow. Was that a Moffatt? Maybe they had seen Taylor, after all.

“Who’s calling?”

“This is Bob Moffatt.”

“Oh, hey. He’s a bit out of commission right now, but if it’s about Taylor I can take it.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “No...What about Taylor?”

I eyed Zac as he emerged from the bathroom, buttoning his top button as he walked. Slob.

“Umm...Zac just called to see if you guys had seen Taylor...”

My brother grabbed the phone from me immediately.

“Yo,” he spoke into it and paused as the receiver laughed and asked him a question. “Yeah, did you guys see Tay after all? [Pause] Oh, you didn’t? [Pause] Yeah, he took off after dinner. [Pause]Weird. So what’d you need, anyway? [Pause] Oh yeah, that’s cool. Which room are you in again? [Pause] Okay, I’ll be over in like, fifteen minutes. [Pause] Okay, later.”

He hung up and shrugged at me.

“They haven’t seen Taylor?” I asked, this time thoroughly confused.

“Nah, they didn’t even know I called. Wanted me to come over and play video games with them.” Zac busied himself by picking up my brown leather jacket and trying to put it on before realizing it was not his and much too small. He frowned and then went to find his, all the while talking. “Scott took off tonight, too. Says he went to some club downtown. I wonder if they went out to pick up chicks together.” Zac laughed at his own joke, knowing how completely and utterly uninterested in women our middle brother was.

He finally shrugged his jacket onto his shoulders and reached into a cargo pocket on his jeans, pulling out what looked like a CD. “Hah. I knew I’d find it.” He put the CD back into his pants – the same pocket he’d lost it in – and looked up at me. “You’ll tell dad where I went?”

I nodded and went back to my magazine. Ooh...That’s a nice guitar...

Taylor

I didn’t try to hide my amusement as Scott struggled to dress and hide his body from me. I’d already seen what I wanted to see, and I pride myself on my photographic memory. That image was going to last me a long time...As long as I needed it to anyway.

“Why, yes,” I answered the girl as with as much rude politeness as I could muster, annoyed with her for getting into Scott Moffatt’s pants before me, and for making him look like he was so angry with me. “We do know each other,” I continued. “I can’t believe you’d lead me on like this, Scott. Just earlier today we were – “

“I know what we did earlier today, Taylor. And I hate you for it, you fucking queer.”

I was rendered speechless. The words hit me like a brick wall, and they stung. Did he just call me a queer? This boy, who was so eager to kiss me. This boy, who I had been so careful not to hurt. This boy, who I know is so musically talented that he actually intrigues me to the point of desiring conversation. Did he just call me a queer?

I knew my face had visibly fallen and I felt impossible tears well up behind my eyes, but fought them back with shock. He almost looked as though he’d regretted saying it. “That’s real rich coming from you, you know.”

“I didn’t get to kiss you,” he had said. He had wanted it, and the only reason I did it was because he had asked for it. I wouldn’t force that on him. No one should have that forced on them.

I didn’t force that on him, did I?

“Oh, please. You knew exactly what you were doing, Hanson. Taking advantage of a guy when he was confused. You saw a weak spot and you pounced.” He paused and let his words sink in. His anger was visible; he was shaking and his voice quivered when he spoke again. “I’m not gay, Hanson. I’m not. I’m not like you. Not one of you. Never will be. Ever. Understand?”

I swallowed thickly and nodded my head, unable to believe what had just happened. I had committed the ultimate sin. I had done what I had never wanted to do, always promised myself I wouldn’t do.

I had stolen Scott’s freedom of choice. I had fucked him up in the head so badly that he was doubting himself, doubting his sexuality, wondering if his whole life was a lie. And now no matter what he said to me or to himself about his sexuality, I knew that he was confused and now he would never know. He would never know if every choice he’d ever made was just a lie. He would never know what his life would be like if I hadn’t come in and screwed things up. He would never know. Only I understood how torn he was, and I was the one who caused it all.

I turned around and walked out, ignoring the confused look on Green Dress’ face, the concerned questions bombarding me about my coloring, the dancers that had stopped what they were doing to turn and gawk at me – the pretty boy that was crying on his way out of the men’s room.

The mid-summer Los Angeles air – all the smokes, the funny powders, the lights – hit me in the face when I stepped outside, drying the tears on my face almost instantly. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care.