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Casey Jones
Driving that train, high on cocaine, |
Trouble with you is the trouble with me
My eyes popped open as if I’d heard a gunshot when the floor in the hall squeaked. It’s so strange how clearly I heard every sound in the house since Annabelle was born. I swear if she coughed I was up and out of my bed within seconds. Taylor must have heard it as well, because he rolled over and threw his leg over me, moaning softly. And as much as I loved him, he was really hot and taking over way too much of my side of the bed. I guess we got way too used to the king-sized beds in all of the hotels we stayed in, because since we’d gotten home three weeks ago, we just seemed to be in each other’s way. And really, I found it fascinating how we could live on a bus and rarely see each other. But in our lovely home, we were constantly on top of each other. He could be in the basement working on a song and still somehow be in my way. But I was so happy to be home, to smell the smells, to hear the gentle sound of traffic, to know that there was no one waiting out front. Well most of the time there was no one waiting out front.
I sighed hoping that I would be able to fall back asleep quickly. Our double bed was always too small for him, but it had been something I’d inherited and that I loved. It was a lovely and romantic metal bed. I know at first, we loved the closeness it engendered. But now, I was actually yearning for the wonderful football field sized beds from the tour. Taylor sighed in his sleep and mumbled something about there not being enough cheese. A smile stole over my face as he adjusted and his hand came to rest firmly over my breast. His breath felt like the softest of kisses against my neck. And really, in those enormous beds, I never got this. This forced closeness. I reached back and felt the smooth skin of his thigh were it rested on mine. I wondered how long it would take for me to wake him up. If I was careful, I could have him up, then wake him. I loved being home, because I didn’t have to worry about Annabelle being in the bed next to ours. She was in her own room. I was about to put my plan into motion, when I heard another creak. Someone was up and walking around my house. I quickly extricated myself from under Taylor’s surprisingly heavy arm and leg.
I snagged my bathrobe before I stepped out into the hall. “Belle?” I called softly. If she was still asleep, I wanted her to stay that way. I stepped into her room and saw her sweetly sleeping, her arm around the bear she’d slept with from the day she was born and her thumb firmly in her mouth. I stepped over to her and admired her crazy blonde curls and the dark eyelashes resting on her pink cheeks. I loved her so. I gently popped her thumb out of her mouth and placed a kiss on her forehead. The mystery squeaks must have been from the house settling.
I was about to go back in and wrestle more room from Taylor when I heard another squeak down in the kitchen. Then a crash. Followed by swearing. Zac was up. I tiptoed downstairs wanting to make sure he was all right. The last couple of weeks had been more than a little hard on him. First, Anne had truly broken up with him. She had let him know in no uncertain terms that even if he had the world’s greatest and most sincere apology, it was over. And she also let it be known that she would most likely not believe a word he said. Second, Zac had been so upset about the way Diana and Walker announced that he had let Symphony abort their baby, he had moved out and into our guest bedroom. Third, Zac had managed to break his hand so badly; he'd had surgery to have a stabilizing halo screwed into his bones. My dad had told him that it was the best way to repair the bones and eliminate the prospect of arthritis. It would also make his hand stronger in the long run. Finally, He was worried about how to tell Isaac. Zac knew that Isaac would be something more than angry with him for not calling and setting it up so that he and Emory could adopt the baby.
Isaac and Emory had been in Ireland for three weeks. From the calls and emails, it was clear that Ireland had indeed been the new start they needed. Emory's voice had the dancing lilt to it again. Their smiles in the pictures they sent over were enormous and real. Isaac had told me the last time I'd spoken to him that he finally gets why Taylor's eyes follow me across the room, understands what Taylor meant by the creature living in his chest behind his heart that gave a little leap each time I walked into a room, comprehends why when people say "hurry back" when their lover has just gone to the bathroom. Isaac wrote "...I loved her, I always have. But suddenly I get what it means to adore someone. A sweep of her hair makes me lightheaded, her unabashed laugh brings tears to my eyes and the smell of her perfume absolutely turns my knees to Jell-O. I will never tease Taylor again when he sighs as you walk out of the room. You knew he did that, right?" Besides making me feel giddy and more than a little horny, Isaac's email had made me feel so much better.
Emory had even begun to embrace the idea of fans. In Ireland, Isaac was fairly anonymous at first. But as news traveled via the Internet that Isaac was staying in Dublin, slowly, Emory noticed an influx of unknown faces in the pub. Until finally, she found herself asking the girls stealing glances of Isaac if there was anything she could do for them. "Now Cleo, I know it's not like at a concert and 'tis not really all that confrontational, but I feel like I'm making a lot of progress here. One girl approached me in the loo and I had to laugh. What a silly, ridiculous situation to fine myself in! Pissing at the pub and discussing my husband with the girl in the next stall. I think I'm beginning to understand your philosophy of finding the humor in the surreal! Oh, and one fan even asked me how I was doing since the miscarriage and I was able to smile and thank her for her concern. Ike said it was just because the incident isn't so new and so painful. But honestly, I truly feel like I'm beginning to understand, they want to know because they love the guys. Not to be nosy or hateful, but they have real concern for them and their lives. Ike and I have had a lot of long discussions about the fans as we've traveled round and I guess I can share that part of my husband."
I found their positive attitudes and good humor to be such a great sign. It didn't feel like an act at all. In fact, they were both so giddy it had to be real. One of them could fake it, but not both. Each time one of them called, it was just a joy to talk to them. It was great talking to them. But one thing was very clear after each conversation: they knew nothing about what was going on with Zac. Apparently, Diana had learned her lesson and hadn't said one word about what was going on to either of them. During each call, I would try to get Zac to talk to Isaac or Emory, but he would just shake his head. Often, our sunny conversations caused Zac to get up and walk out of the room. Zac just sighed and said that not all happiness is contagious if I asked him what was wrong.
Honestly, I think that without Taylor and I (and of course, Annabelle) to back him up, he’d be totally lost. Well, he was totally lost. But I think he’d be lost and homeless without us. In the three weeks he'd been with us, I had rarely seen him; he stayed in the guestroom in the attic. He had come down a few times a day to get some food or drop off his laundry or just passing through on his way to the basement studio. When he appeared, he looked like he had been crying or hadn’t slept or both. His bathing habits seemed to have been wholly forgotten and abandoned. My dad had said that he could get his arm wet, but to dry the metal halo carefully. Zac apparently took this as a signal to just stop bathing altogether. His sketchy, Danish beard was getting pretty scraggly and he was skinnier than I’d ever seen him before. When he came down and ate with us, it was always just a few bites and only once a day. Taylor was sure Zac was hording food up in his room or coming down to sneak some at night. But I could never see any evidence that this was the case.
Zac was a shell of who he had been before receiving that letter and this killed me to watch.
Anne had called me that first afternoon to see how Zac was doing. She had truly loved him, but he had broken her heart one too many times. She explained that they had made a pact that they would both remain virgins until they were married. They wanted their wedding night to be something so special and a journey they would take together. And he had backed out of his bargain. And for that she could never forgive him. The rational part of her brain told her that when all of this happened, he had no clue if she would ever truly take him back. His time in LA had been his own. Still she thought that he could have let their relationship cool a little while longer before he moved on. She also knew that she was never an easy person; she had pushed him away time after time. They had fought from day one, but no on had ever taken their battles very seriously. Taylor and I were constantly amazed that they kept getting back to together, but we also understood that undeniable draw. But this time, it truly was over. Anne's cell phone had been disconnected, her home number, her email address had been cancelled and the apartment over the Greek restaurant was empty. She had left town altogether. Two days after the fight, I had walked into her office at the MOE house to find her letter of resignation and all of the stuff Zac had ever given her.
Emory, Anne and I had chosen hard roads to travel. We had fallen for men who were loved and revered by the masses. Or well, it felt like the masses. And we were all so scared of being left behind, of being forgotten, of becoming one more rockstar statistic. We all three had to make peace with who they were before we could figure out what our relationship was and where we fit. I had somehow figured out that Taylor wasn’t leaving… Only after he kidnapped me and forced me to marry him, but I figured it out. Emory was beginning to get it, which made me ecstatic. She was finally able to see that no matter how crazy it all got around Isaac, he was coming home to her. Anne, unfortunately, had fought against it from day one. Anne could never accept that sharing Zac with the world was just a part of being in a relationship with him meant. I know she regretted many of the things she said to Zac. The night it all came down, she had been so harsh and had said things she could never take back. Things she knew had hurt Zac more than his mother’s unmitigated disappointment. When the words first came out of her mouth, I didn't believe she really meant it. But as time passed, it became clear. She was not coming back, ever. So, I sat there powerless to comfort someone who meant the world to me, disappointed in someone I thought was my best friend. It was just a mess. I watched helpless as Diana tried to figure out a way to make up for what she did, as Walker sat unsure of where the rage had come from, as Zac slowly slipped farther and farther away from us. And really, at this point, I was beginning to worry that there was no way back for them. Too much was said, too many hearts broken. The hurt in the eyes of everyone involved was what killed him. The hurt in his eyes made me want to hold him.
I could see that there was a dim light on in the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, I could see that the light over the sink was on. Zac stood shirtless with his back to me doing something fairly industrious. His once wide back was just plain skinny. Each of his ribs was visible and every time he moved, I could see the inner workings of his shoulder blades. They looked for all the world like strange wings rising and falling with his studied movements. I felt a surge of sadness; I missed the hail and hearty Zac I'd known all my life. I leaned against the doorjamb my hand to my cheek. There had been something missing in him lately, watching him move around the kitchen I realized what it was; for the first time, he seemed to have a purpose. I tilted my head to see what he was doing: I almost laughed when I saw that he was slicing limes of all the strange things. As he moved from side to side, I could see that he had at least shaved fairly recently. I could hear that under his breath, he was humming something that sounded vaguely familiar and yet, not.
Finally, he turned toward the table to grab a saltshaker and saw me. He let out a yelp of surprise. “Jesus Cleo! You should have cleared your throat or something.”
“Oh, sorry.” I said shrugging before clearing my throat. “Better?”
“Well, if I can slow down my heart.” He said sagging against the counter.
“Really, really sorry about that.” I said walking towards him. I noticed that in the sink was a tray covered with limes, a shot glass and the saltshaker. “What’s going on?”
“Time for some Tequila therapy,” Zac said pointedly walking over to the bar that separated the family room from the kitchen. “I need to just not think for a little while. I thought going down into the studio and getting drunker than fuck and working on some songs would help me.”
“Zac, alcohol never solves anything.” I said watching as he pulled two large bottles of Jose Cuervo Gold out from under the bar.
“You’re right,” he said placing the bottles on the tray. “But right now, even a mind melting hangover would be better than this.” He said placing a fist clutching a bottle of tequila over his heart. Even in the half-light, I could see the shine of his eyes. “I know that one day, I will be over all this heartache. But for now, I can’t seem to escape it. Can’t you just give me that?”
“Okay,” I said hugging him.
“Good,” he said taking a deep shuddering breath. He picked up the tray and headed for the stairs into the basement studio. “Can you get the door for me?”
“Sure,” I said pulling the door open. It was very heavy and soundproof. The distinct smell of old incense and sweaty men came wafting up to me. I loved the way Taylor’s hair smelled after spending hours down in this pit with his brothers. I flicked the switch that turned on the loops and loops of Christmas lights that twinkled around the room. “Want some company?”
“Sure, but you have to drink with me.” He said as he started down the stairs.
“Hmm… Can’t I just watch?” I asked, the heavy door falling closed behind me. The room felt warm. The walls were made of golden maple shined to an insane glossiness. One entire wall was an unbelievably huge mixing board, topped by an equally huge plate glass window. Zac, Isaac and Taylor assured me repeatedly that this mixing board was the best of the best of the best. And they would get so much more work done here than anywhere else. I noticed greasy marks all over the gigantic window that looked into the actual booth; they were the perfect size and shape to be blowfish marks. I shook my head. They would never really grow up.
“Nope, you either drink or you leave.” Zac said putting the tray onto the mixing board.
“Zac, you know how I feel about tequila,” I whined dropping into a chair.
“Hush!” He said sternly handing me a lime slice and the saltshaker. He placed the shot glass between us and filled it. “You aren’t allowed to speak unless you take a shot.”
“Fine,” I said licking my hand and dumping a few grains of salt onto the wet spot. I took the offered shot glass and held it out towards him. “Cheers.” I said before licking the salt off my hand and slamming the shot down. The warm, golden liquid barely had time to hit my tongue before I swallowed hard. I shuddered as the bitter taste went up my nose. I bit into the lime sucking to chase away the tequila flavor. “That is nasty.”
“No,” Zac said before he took his own shot. “That is good.”
“Ugh, another one?” I asked as he handed me another lime and a shot filled to the top. “I’ll be sick.”
“Not yet,” Zac said laughing at me as I grimaced horribly. “That will come later after ten shots…”
“Ugh, there is no way I can keep down anything near ten shots.” I said reaching over to the tray and taking my own lime. I licked my hand as he slammed back another shot. After he bit into his lime, he picked up the bottle of tequila and took a huge swig. “Slow down there big guy.”
“Cleo, you have no clue…” Zac said chuckling. He poured a shot for me and handed it to me. “I can drink way more than you would ever believe.”
“No way, you’ve always been such a lightweight.” I said choking on my third shot.
“Well, a lot of things have changed.” Zac said taking the shot glass from me.
“You were always such a straight edge.” I said rolling my chair back and forth.
“Okay, seriously, you have to know what happened in LA.” Zac said taking another swig straight out of the bottle.
“Zac, I don’t know as much as you think.” I said spinning around and realizing almost too late that wasn’t a good idea.
“You don’t?” He asked rolling forward and grabbing my slowly rotating chair. “You know spinning like that will make you puke.”
“I can see that.” I said not liking the way the chair was moving.
"How do you not know everything?" Zac asked swigging again straight out of the bottle.
"Taylor told you he wouldn't tell, so he didn't." I said in a very matter of fact manner. I could feel the fuzziness of the alcohol descending over my brain.
"That is crazy." Zac murmured. "I thought he told you everything."
"Me too." I sighed. I leaned back in my chair and it started to roll back away from the mixing board. As I rolled back, the chair began a slow rotation again. “I think I need to move to a non-moving surface.”
"You know, that isn't a bad idea." Zac said sliding out of his chair and onto the floor in a lovely fluid movement. I tried to do the same, but I mostly just landed hard and very graceless. Zac started to chuckle. "You know, I've never figured out how you weren't a ballerina."
"Whatever, spastic Jones." I said following the natural progression and just falling onto my back. The gray acoustic tiles covering the ceiling had such a cool and interesting pattern. The ceiling looked like a spongy gray egg-crate. I giggled a little as I imagined eggs resting in each little dip. I was already getting drunk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demanded flopping onto his stomach facing me.
“You have no skills on the dance floor.” I said swiveling my head towards him.
“No skills?” He asked his right eyebrow disappearing under his shaggy bangs. “Dude, I totally have rhythm. I’m the drummer, remember?”
“How could I ever forget? You're so good at hitting things.” I asked sighing. Suddenly visions of Thad chasing Zac across the lawn a drumstick clutched in his hand came to me. I giggled again. “Remember when Thad and I had you trapped up that tree cause if you came down we were going to shove your drumsticks up your ass?”
“How could I forget?” Zac asked sliding forward on his belly and resting his head on my shoulder. “My leg fell asleep and I was actually terrified I was going to fall out of the tree and equally sure that you were going to actually do it.”
I chuckled softly. “Why were we so mad at you?”
“Oh man, I’m not going to remind you if you don’t remember.” Zac said a smile stealing across his face. He dragged himself back up to sitting and poured another shot.
“Really, what was it?” I asked blearily propping myself up onto my elbow.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember.” Zac said slamming back the shot. “I kicked your soccer ball through the TV on the sun porch.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I said smiling at the memory of the look of terror on his face as the screen showered down onto the tile floor. As he ran out the door, Thad had said we should chase him and freak him out. “You know, I think that the look of abject terror on your face was something I will always treasure.”
“I’m glad my discomfort could amuse you.” Zac said pouring another shot, the amber liquid slopped over the rim of the glass and onto the tray. We both sat watching the puddle spread, neither of us saying anything. “Sometimes, I miss that.”
“Miss what?” I asked my mind pulling back from the memory of Thad and I sitting with our back against the tree patiently waiting for Zac to climb down, each of us gripping a drumstick in our hand. If I remembered correctly, we chatted in that position for a couple hours. Diana calling Zac to dinner was the only reason he hadn't spent even more time up that tree.
“A time when the worst thing I did was bust out the screen of a television.” Zac said quietly. He gently rotated his hand; I was fascinated by the way the metal halo moved. It was amazing that these simple metals rods held his broken hand together and yet allowed him the freedom to do pretty much anything he wanted.
“Zac, you’re such a bad ass.” I said snickering. But he didn’t laugh. He just looked up at me, his face too serious. He pulled himself up off the floor, grabbed a bottle of Tequila and headed towards the piano. He sat started to play the sad opening strains of a song I was sure I should recognize, but couldn't put my finger on. As he played, a single tear escaped. “Zac…”
“I miss her.” He whispered over the gentle sound of the song.
“Excuse me?” I asked not sure I’d heard him right.
“I miss Anne.” He said picking up the bottle off the floor where he'd set it and swigging straight out of it. “I called her today, but she wouldn't talk to me.”
"Her number was working again?" I asked doubtful.
"Yeah, it was." He shrugged.
“What did she say?” I asked sitting up. The memory of the fight between he and Anne still fresh in my mind, it had been ugly.
“Nothing really,” Zac said shrugging. “And really, I don't blame her. I just wanted to hear her voice. But now, it all seems so much harder. It's like I need to... Need to figure it out...”
“What are you going to do?” I asked after the silence had stretched longer than was comfortable. I reached out to move his hair out of his eyes, but instead, I poked him in the eye.
"Ouch!" Zac exclaimed.
"Sorry." I mumbled realizing that I was very, very drunk. Again, the silence stretched uncomfortably long.
“Taylor's right you know." Zac said after a few minutes.
"He was?" I asked.
"Geez, don't sound so surprised." Zac said rolling his eyes. "You know, he is right occasionally."
"I know, but it's strange to hear you say that." I mumbled. "Of course he's right, occasionally."
"Cleo, do you have any clue what happened in LA?" Zac asked solemnly. I shook my head. "If you knew, you wouldn't want me in this house..."
"Zac, that’s not true." I said shuddering after downing another shot.
"Oh Cleo, you have no idea." Zac said putting his hands in his hair. I could see the struggle on his face, his emotions were right there on the surface, fighting for supremacy. Everything he was thinking or feeling worn plainly on his face. "I truly am the worst kind of person..."
"You just went through a bad time, but that’s over." I said feeling tears threaten. I was sure I was about to cry with him. "What happened in LA was a hiccup, not the moment that defines your life."
"Are you so sure about that?" Zac asked.
"How bad could it have been?" I asked my eyebrows knitting together.
He looked at me for a few moments before turning slightly and pulling up his pajama bottoms up over his knee. There, in the crease of his knee, were several small scars. They looked like minute chicken pox scars. "Do you know what those are?"
"No," I said running my finger over them. They felt like little knots under his skin.
"They are injection sights," he said quietly.
"What?" I asked. I could feel my eyes growing wider and wider. What was he confessing?
"Yeah, I discovered fairly quickly that you can snort all the coke in the room, but you always needed more." Zac said quietly. "But, if you mainlined it, the high lasted much longer."
"Jesus," I breathed softly.
"I spent my time moving from party to party." Zac continued his voice soft and monotone. "No, I suppose I need to start at the beginning. When Anne broke up with me that final time, I really believed she meant it. I left Tulsa because I couldn't stand it. I couldn't spend another day knowing that she was that close to me and yet, so untouchable."
"You two make each other crazy," I said softly.
"I love her so much. The thought of her alone in the world scares me. She is so sweet and so naive in so many ways." Zac said his voice still soft, but definitely not emotionless. We sat in silence again. I wasn't sure if after that declaration he was going to be able to go on. He took a deep breath. "So, I arrived in LA on a Sunday afternoon. I got a limo to drive me out to the house. Before my flight even landed, I had decided that I was just going to laze around the house, no surfing, no shopping, no nothing. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed. I think I must have slept for three days straight. I didn't want to do anything but sleep. I was emotionally exhausted. Finally, it was like I had finally gotten enough sleep. I woke up really early Saturday morning. I felt pretty good. I got dressed and went for a hike up in the Hollywood Hills. I felt good for the first time. I was suddenly very bummed that I hadn't rented a car. A day at the beach surfing sounded so good."
"It definitely does today." I said watching as Zac tipped the bottle of tequila up again. "Sometimes, I miss LA."
Zac shuddered as he swallowed. "I don't think I ever want to set foot in LA again."
"Was it really that bad?" I asked.
"I'm getting there." Zac said sighing. He sat for a moment composing his thoughts. "When I got back from my hike, I called and had a car delivered to me. It was then that I thought, "Sometimes it's good to be me." I stuck some Beach Boys in and sang at the top of my lungs as I drove along Sunset Boulevard all the way to Malibu. It was like heaven, the only thing missing was Anne. But I was sure that the next time I took this drive, Anne would be sitting in the passenger seat. I went to the beach and surfed all day. I caught some killer waves. I was a God, even Tay would have been jealous. By the time I was on my way home, I was beginning to believe that I could get my shit together, get back with Anne. It was a good day."
"We all need those, don't we?" I said reaching out and smoothing my hand over his leg. He grabbed at my hand, squeezing the fingers gently.
"I foolishly felt so good. I stopped and got food, went back to the house, checked my email, popped some corn and sat down to watch a movie." Zac rubbed at his eyes again as he picked up the bottle of tequila. "And that was the last happy moment of my life."
"Don't say that." I said scared at the finality in his voice.
"Ah Cleo," he said shaking his head. "I have to say it; you know me, I always try to tell the truth."
"Jesus Zac, what happened to you?"
"I sat watching something inane and I started to feel twitchy." He started. "You know how I get. I had to do something, go somewhere, and spend the energy that I'd spent the whole week gathering up. I decided to go out for the evening. I grabbed the car keys, but the night was so beautiful that I decided to just walk down to Sunset."
"You walked to Sunset?" I asked my sleepy eyes popping open.
"Yeah," he said handing me the bottle of tequila. I took a swig and shuddered.
"Wow, that is impressive." I said watching as he broke the seal on the second bottle of tequila. I was so going to regret this evening in the morning. And really, I meant it when I said it was impressive. Taylor and I had picked out the house in Los Angeles. It was up at the top of a very steep hill, just off of Sunset. Driving down the hill was challenging and scary, I had no doubt that Zac walking down was a major hike.
"Maybe," Zac shrugged as he handed me the newly opened bottle of tequila. "I just felt like I needed something. I needed to do something extreme. I'm not sure why, but I felt reckless. You know me; I'm Mr. Safety First. Regardless, I started strolling down Sunset. And let me tell you how cool that was! Every car that drove by had music booming out of it. It was so cool how bright everything was. I don't think I'd ever felt so alive. I felt good, really energized. The city was like crack it was so invigorating. Anyway, I had maybe walked down three blocks when I heard someone call my name."
"A fan?" I asked.
"Naw some guy in a band, I can't think of his name or the name of his band… I want to say Marcus from Viable Threat, but... Maybe I've blocked it all out." Zac said shrugging, pausing only to take another swig of tequila. "He was standing in front of the Viper Room, surrounded by his cronies. So, I jogged across the street to where he was standing surrounded by a large group of friends. As I walked up, a few of them started singing Mmmbop and they all started giggling. I just rolled my eyes and muttered something about how fucking clever they all were."
"Isn't that just the funniest thing ever?" I asked feeling another wave of dizziness. "Ugh, I think I'd better lay down."
"Well, to make a long story a little bit shorter, I ended up hanging with them. We stood around in the main part of the bar for a while, I slugged back a few beers and chatted with a bunch of different people, eventually a couple fans came and chatted me up. It wasn’t like I was getting mobbed, but it was definitely uncomfortable. Too many eyes watching just me." Zac said reaching out and pulling a lock of my hair out. He began to lazily wrap it around his finger. Something I had seen each of the boys do with their mother's long hair over and over. "Luckily, it wasn’t too long before someone came over and asked me if I wanted to head up to the VIP room. And to be honest, I was more than happy to get out of bar area. I didn’t recognize anyone, but there was such a chill vibe in the room. Everyone was sitting around indulging in a favorite vice. I sat down and ordered a beer. I was sitting there minding my own business when the most beautiful girl I'd seen in a very long time walked into the room. Her hair was like this curtain of satin, the exact color of honey. Her eyes were enormous and the color dark clouds. I figured she was some new actress in town or the newest "it" girl..."
"It girl?" I asked amazed and amused that sentence had just come out of his mouth.
"...Because everyone turned to her as she walked in the room." He continued totally ignoring me. "Her eyes swept the room, bored. But when she locked eyes with me, a smile came to her lips. A smile I recognized. She was a fan. She walked straight over to where I sat. She smiled again then totally surprised me by straddling me. If I had thought to look down, I would have seen she wasn't wearing anything under her mini-skirt. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear "I've saved myself all these years for you." She was so close that I could smell her and I don't mean her perfume."
"Wow." I said imagining that moment. Zac just sitting there this hot girl in his lap all of his newly formed friends watching to see what he'd do. "What did you do?"
"I kissed her." Zac said shrugging. "Or, I let her kiss me. As she got more and more involved, I realized that I was getting my first lap dance. Soon, I didn't care that all the eyes in the room were on us. I was just more concerned about how hot and sweaty she was and how amazing she smelled and how badly I wanted to touch her, but every time I tried, she pushed my hands away. As I came... And I came so hard, she laughed in my ear, low, sultry, teasing. She grabbed my hand and pulled me up and out of the chair I was in. "Come on, let's go get you cleaned up," she said as she pulled me through the crowd. I was mortified by what had just happened, when I realized that no one cared. Hardly anyone had even noticed. After she pulled me into the bathroom, she started to undo my belt to clean me up. I panicked. When she saw the panic in my eyes, she laughed and asked me if I wanted to not care about any of it. I shrugged. She pulled out a vial of something white. She held it up to her nose, plugged her other nostril and sniffed. She choked a little and rubbed at her nose then did it in the other nostril. She then handed me the vial smiling the most outrageous smile. I followed her lead."
"Oh God, Zac." I said imagining the scene. I would have never believed him capable of doing something like that.
"Cleo, it was like fireworks went off inside my head." Zac said an excitement climbing in his voice. "Suddenly, the world had colors I'd never seen before. My clothes felt heavy on me; the air around me was perfumed. Everything was brought into sharp, sharp focus. I could see the cracks in the plaster of the walls. I could see the individual gold flecks of makeup on her cheeks. And I wanted to touch her. Oh God, I wanted to sink my fingers deep into her. I wanted to taste the dark, musky smell rising up from under her skirt. I wanted to fuck her."
"Okay, seriously, too much information." I said watching the manic look in his eyes with a little apprehension.
"I pulled her in for a kiss, this time I was initiating everything. I wanted to touch her everywhere. Soon, we were both naked. She was sitting on the edge of the sink; I wanted to just do it. Do that one thing Anne would never let me do, when she stopped me. "Not here, not now...” I paused confused. "I don't want to lose my virginity in a bathroom." Now, I think about that sentence and I feel so horrible and dirty, but at that moment, I didn't care. I wanted her. I had never wanted anything so badly."
"What did you do?" I asked when he stopped.
"I did something I will never be proud of, I took her home and fucked her." Zac said softly. "There was nothing pleasurable or romantic about it. I stuck my dick in her and ripped her open. She tried to be brave, she tried to pretend like her screams were from pleasure and not pain. But looking back on it, it had to have been horrible for her. In fact, as sick as it sounds, every grimace, every moan of pain, made me want to fuck her harder. We stayed up all night, snorting cocaine and fucking. Fucking until she said it didn't hurt anymore."
"Did you use protection?" I asked alarmed at the harshness of his words or his actions. My sweet gentle Zac had intentionally and knowingly hurt this girl.
"Nope," he said shrugging. "I was a virgin, she was a virgin..."
"But she could have been an IV drug user!" I protested.
"She was." Zac said.
"Zac, are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I get tested every six weeks for drugs and HIV." Zac said softly.
"Oh man, this is all so horrible and desperate." I said accepting the offered bottle of tequila.
"It gets worse." Zac said taking the bottle back.
"I can't imagine it getting any worse." I said feeling the distinct urge to cry.
"I say that we stayed up all night, but really, we stayed up for days." Zac said closing his eyes. "We wandered around the house naked for days, each of us taking turns coming up with new and twisted ways to fuck. It got to the point that we had to find porn sites online that were sicker and sicker, trying each and every position. Every day, she'd leave for a couple hours to go to work... I still have no idea what she actually did. But each afternoon she came back to the house with a new supply of cocaine and some food. We generally only noticed the food if we could use it in some sick, sexual way. All I wanted was her and coke."
"Jesus." I said the tears becoming more imminent. “How much of this does Anne know?”
“All of it, I told her everything…” His voice trailed off, another uncomfortable silence descending over us.
“What happened next?” I asked after what felt like an eternity.
"Well, one afternoon, I was snorting my fourth line in about twenty minutes and just not getting as high as I had been." Zac said laying back down. He closed his eyes against the memory. "I wanted the fireworks back."
"Oh God." I said knowing what came next. The first tear finally broke free and rolled into my hair. I choked back a sob.
"She didn't say a word, just reached into her purse and pulled out a black bag." He stopped his words getting choppier, more labored. His chest was rising in fits and starts. "I just watched her. I watched her cook up the coke. When she was done, she smiled and asked me where I wanted it, in the arm, between my toes, behind my knee or under my scrotum. I picked behind my knee. She stuck me and seriously, it was like finding God. I was fucking Superman and Galactus and Batman and Spiderman, even the fucking Wonder Twins... I ruled the world. I could have walked down the street and had everyone worshipping me. No, it wasn't like finding God. It was like waking up and realizing that I was God."
We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. I lay there crying, tears just leaking out of my eyes. He had the balls of his hands pressed to his eyes. "So, what made you stop?"
"After three months of getting high constantly," Zac said slowly and softly, "the supply started drying up. I asked her what was up with that. And she said that her supplier was getting less willing to let her have as much as she wanted. One day, she came back from work with a black eye and split lip. She needed money. I gave it to her. I tried to get her to go to the police, but my efforts were only half assed. It got bad fast after that. She had more and more bruises. She was grey and her hair was falling out. The exact same thing was happening to me. I felt hollowed out. One morning, she came back and she was beaten so badly. I wanted to hold her and comfort her. I wanted to be gentle and tender and make her feel better. I... I don't know what happened really. But suddenly, I found myself forcing her to do things that were hurting her. As she cried, I just wanted to die. Cleo, I seriously thought about killing her because if she were gone all of this shit would just go away. I stumbled into the living room and pulled out her rig. I cooked up a very strong cocktail. I knew as soon as I hit the plunger that it was too much. But I didn't care. The only thing I remember was thinking, "I should have left a note.""
"Oh my God." I said my tears gone. Zac really had overdosed.
"The next thing I remember is waking up in a white room." Zac said finally taking his hands from his eyes. "I guess that she came out of the bedroom to find me laying face down in a puddle of puke. She rolled me over, called 911 and left. The ambulance arrived, took me to the hospital and they brought me back to life."
"How did this happen?" I asked.
"I don't know." He shrugged. "It would be really easy to blame Anne or someone else. But really, it was all me. I was sick of being the Zac Hanson that everyone knew. And it felt so sexy and crazy and so rockstar."
"How did the tabloids not get hold of this?" I wondered aloud.
"I don't know," Zac said softly. "Thank God they didn't. I guess she really wasn't just there to fuck me up. When she didn't come forward, I got it. She really was just a fan. And the good fans don't sell us out."
“It’s really miraculous.” I said softly.
“All I really know is that I woke up in the hospital, there were a few blissful moments where I thought I was in heaven. Everything was so quiet and my heart was beating at a steady rate. I could hear what I thought was a gentle breeze.” Zac said softly. “And for that split second, I was happy. But then, I realized that my throat hurt and there was an ache in my hand. I forced my eyes open and realized that my throat hurt because I had a breathing tube forced down it. I can’t lie, I was disappointed that I was still alive.”
“Zac, there is so much to live for.” I said feeling my heart break over and over again with every word.
“At that moment, I had no clue what it was.” Zac said shrugging. “I couldn’t remember any of the reasons I used to have to get out of bed in the morning. And when my parents showed up, I wanted the bed to swallow me whole. Then Ike and Tay showed up. Things got really bad. It was the closest to calling it quits the band ever had. I couldn’t even tell them what had happened or why.”
“I remember that trip.” I said my forehead pulling together. “Tay said he needed to go and finalize some business in LA. He was so depressed when he came home… I couldn’t do anything to make him happy, even Annabelle couldn’t make him happy. He just kept hugging her and kissing her.”
“It was horrible.” Zac said closing his eyes. “Ike was confused. He couldn’t figure out why I’d do these things. Tay was just sad. Then after a week, Anne showed up. She sat on the edge of my bed and we just cried. The whole story came out so fast. I told her everything…”
“But her name.” I said interrupting.
“No, I never shared her name.” Zac said sadly. “Anne said that if she didn’t know her name it didn’t hurt as bad.”
“I just don’t know what to make of this story.” I said trying to make all the images gel in my head and yet not getting close.
“There isn’t anything to make from it.” Zac answered. “It is what it is and it’s the reason my life is so fucked up.”
"But, Zac, during that time, Taylor, Belle and I came out to visit..." I said thinking back. We had gone as a family to Los Angeles for the weekend. Taylor needed to tie up some loose strings regarding the house and he had wanted to surf. We had hired a new gardener and pool service. I had also done a deep, deep cleaning on the house. Luckily, I had worn gloves as I dusted. "Your mom called you almost every day to see how you were doing.
"Yeah, well, I learned how to lie really well." He said shrugging. "And remember, as soon as you called to say you were coming, I suddenly had tickets to a concert up in San Francisco. We drove up and stayed in a hotel while you guys were in LA."
"That's right, I only saw you for a while on Friday and Monday." I said remembering how musty and filthy I found the house to be. I had just chalked it up to Zac and his filthy habits. And really, I guess that was most of it. "So, now what?"
"As soon as your dad tells me I can, I'm going to New York." Zac said sighing. "Cleo, are you alright?"
"Oh my God, I'm going to puke!" I said jumping up and rushing into the bathroom.