"Zac?" Taylor asked nervously. "What are we doing here?"
He noticed Isaac was near the door, and shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, ready to run out at any given second.
Zac grinned up at them, form behind his drum set. "I must confess now," He stated slowly, looking around the room. "While at Seymour, I've been practicing to play the drums."
"Honey…" Mrs. Hanson started sympathetically.
He shook his head roughly, "I wanted to prove," He started. "I wanted to prove that I was still a Hanson…" His voice trailed off quietly.
"You are a Hanson no matter what, Zac." Mr. Hanson said sternly.
Again he shook his head, trying to get them to understand was going to be difficult. "I wanted to prove that I was Zac Hanson." He replied. "That I'm still the drummer of MMMBop Hanson."
His voice stressed out his words, wanting desperately for his family to get his meaning.
When no one said anything, or moved, Zac shook his head furiously, "I just wanted to prove it." He mumbled before standing up, and trying to walk away.
"Zac," Isaac said softly, staring down at his feet.
Zac raised his head, "Yeah, Ike?"
"Show us." He whispered hoarsely.
He smiled slightly, that's what he wanted. That little bit of encouragement. He knew he couldn't pack up enough guts to do it when the silence had filled the room, now he was psyched up again.
Carefully feeling his way around again, Zac seated himself in front of his drums. Taking a second to get used to the feel again, he squeezed his eyes shut tight and raised his arms.
His first hit was graceful, as was the second one. But the third hit had hit the rim of the snare, and made a louder sound, but no one paid attention to it. They were all watching Zac become himself again.
"Man," Taylor said grinning broadly once the beat had stopped, "That was awesome!"
Zac looked up and smiled almost sheepishly. "Thanks."
Mr. and Mrs. Hanson were both hugging Zac and patting him on the back, but Isaac on the other had, was nowhere in the room.
Realizing that hr had left, Zac hung his head down in shame, "I'll never be a Hanson again!" He cried out in frustration.
"Zac, that's not true!" Taylor argued quickly.
"You know that's not right." Mrs. Hanson chided.
"Then why doesn't Ike think so!" Zac questioned harshly as the fat tears welled up in his eyes, then spilled slowly down onto his cheeks.
"Ike just needs some time, Zac." Mr. Hanson said gently, trying to calm his son down. "Everything has hit him pretty much the hardest out of all of us."
Zac refused to believe it though. His mind was clouded with thoughts of anguish, of not ever being accepted by his brothers again, and not for being Zac Hanson.
Forcefully removing himself from his parent's arms, Zac ran from the room in a fit of desperation. In search of space and some sort of peace of mind.
The pain that marked his parent's face angered Taylor. Seething, he left the room as well. In search of Isaac.
Stalking into their room, he saw Isaac standing in front of the window and looking out it. In a blind furry, he shoved him into one of the walls. "You asshole!" He shouted angrily.
Isaac looked up at him, not retaliating or reacting.
The non-reaction only made Taylor madder. He shoved him in the chest again and knocked him back into the wall. "Do you know what Zac went through?!" He screamed. "What he's going through now?!"
Shamefully, Isaac averted his eyes from his brothers.
"Answer me damnit!" He yelled pleadingly.
"Don't you wonder why I'm not around Zac much?" Isaac asked quietly. "Why I can't stand to talk to him, or about him?"
Taylor shook his head, "No." He said shortly. "Tell me." Demanding the explanation.
Isaac looked up at the ceiling and sighed softly as the tears collected in his eyes, but refused to fall. "Because I'm the one that caused it." He stated shakily.
The sharp intake that Taylor took, only made Isaac slump more heavily against the wall, and forced the tears to want to slide down, but still clung to his eyes.
Taylor stood there quietly, helplessly. He wasn't expecting such an answer, and he didn't know what question to ask first.
Isaac stood against the wall, living in his own prison of pain and self-inflicted torture, awaiting the accusing statements from his brother.
Though neither were aware of the silently retreating figure, that stumbled softly and blindly down the hall and carefully down the stairs.
