Part Three

It has started to rain harder and we're walking back to the car. His steps are slow, like he would want to stay in the moment just a little bit longer.
-I'm lost without them, he says with a voice that tells you he has cried but is now over biggest emotional flood. He sounds like a little boy, sincere, true.
-What do you mean? I ask even if I know. I know that he doesn't know how to handle his career. I know he's trying to surround him with people he could trust but he hasn't ever been very good at it. I know that first single he independently picked flopped even if there were big producer names involved. I know that he had to beg to be present at the MTV Music Awards this year. I know that he now pays clothes that he wears. I know he has no idea how much he makes with his music and that he's spending too much. I know he has given interviews he shouldn't have. I know that he's lost without them. I know he's lost without Brian.
But I also know that he's made to survive. He would just have to open his eyes and see the world which now kneels in front of him. But he keeps his eyes folded.
-If you'd get to go back to that night, would you give your vision for that? I ask. It's a rude, tacky question but I want to know.
-I'd give anything.
-Your life?
He stops and looks at me. I'm hurting him. But I have to. I have to make him see again.
-Would you give up your own life to give him his back?
He looks down and I don't even expect him to answer. He starts to walk again and finally tells me.
-It was a great evening! We we're celebrating out third single in the Top 10. It felt so good. It was like the old days, when we were so much younger. Everyone was laughing, joking, AJ did the goofy things he does and Kevin shepherded us. One thing had changed though. When it got to the midnight, we decided to go to our hotel, get to bed. Not like the old days, not really! I had already invited Brian into my room for a little nightly snack before passing out. Next day we were supposed to fly to Paris to start our European Tour. You know all this, don't you?
I nod but he doesn't look at me. He just wants to keep a pause. When he talks again, his voice shivers and there are tears in it.
-But when we walked out... When we walked out from that building, he points to the house. -I don't remember much of it.
He lets his head drop. I'm sure he remembers. But those are not memories you'd go trough with joy.
-Just that... he continues. -I remember the sound. And the warm liquid all over me. Blood. His blood. Then the sirens, yelling, pain, tears. Hospital. White corridors, long hours waiting. And when the final news came. "Worst is over."
-Who chose words like that? I ask. It sounds brutal, artificial, Christian.
-He did. Kevin told us but he had said those first. "Tell them that worst is over."
That is all I get out of him. From that moment on he refuses to answer my questions, just says yes or no or sighs. We walk closer to the building and halt across the street. He looks closely, like trying to replace images in his head with these new, clean ones.
I notice that the porter starts to get suspicious about us. I hail to our taxi and get us in. He doesn't care. Right then I could have taken him almost anywhere and he wouldn't have resisted.
Instead I give driver address to his hotel. He turns to see me, surprised.
-Now you're taking me home?
-You've got to stop calling hotels home, I say and he's silent. He turns into a little boy whose father came to pick him up from the boarding school when he - just once - does something he really wants.
I'm tired. He doesn't want to open up. It's clear to me now. He has given me some good lines but in the end those don't carry me to very far.

He surprises me when we have driven under the hotel and Buddy is already waiting him by the car.
-I'm mad at him because he left us. I'm really angry. But I can't say it. I have to be sorry, be grateful that I was saved, tell that I miss him. But mostly I just want to punch him really hard. I can't. And I hate that I can't, that he's not here, that he's not here for me so that I could tell him how much I hate him.
-I'm sure he heard you, I say.
-In a way I hope he did. I loved him. He left me. And I can't share my sorrow with anyone, not even with Leighanne because it feels like even she's not feeling as much pain as I am, that she doesn't have a right to miss him because I'm the one who can't live without him.
-But you do. And you will.
He just looks at me and gets out of the car. He has taken few steps when he turns and comes back to me.
-I want to read the article, Jack. You know that, don't you?
-Sure. I'll send it to you.
-Before it's printed, he says. I smile at him and he doesn't know what I mean so I add:
-You'll be first one to read it.
He almost slams the door but then bends again.
-Thank you.
It's my turn not to say anything. He straightens and last thing I see of him are his abdominal muscles shivering under his shirt.

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