I got home two weeks later. I was surprised to get off the plane and have fans waiting. It'd been years since we've actually had fans waiting for us.
"Holy shit," I said as I looked out the window. There weren't just a couple of fans. There were thousands. "Isaac, come look at this." Isaac crossed the hall and looked out my window.
"Oh my God, d�j� vu of four years ago." He looked over to Taylor. Taylor was pouting, as he had been a lot lately. He was just upset. I'd tell him to apologize later. "Taylor, if you'll turn your head you'll see thousands of chicks wanting to sleep with you." Taylor grumbled. "Damn, what is your problem?"
"Leave me alone."
"Whatever." I looked over the crowd, at as many screaming faces as I could. This had always been such a rush for me. So many people, all there to just get a glimpse of me as I passed by. Why would anyone want to see me to begin with? Taylor and Isaac always used to wave it off; those people out there are just fans. Whatever, they're not important kind of thing. I couldn't do that. They took the time to come out and see me, the least I could do was smile and wave. Sure, I get it all the time, wherever I go, but it was all a part of the game.
"Guys, we're going to taxi the plane somewhere else and let you off," my father said, after speaking with security.
"Why?" I asked.
"Zac, you know why. There's too many of them. There's thousands of girls and three of you. You know we only do this for your own safety."
"They came out here to see us and we can't even give them that? We could at least say something."
"What are you going to do, Zac?" Taylor asked. "Make a speech? Like they'll listen. They'll be too busy pulling your hair and tearing you limb from limb."
"Who invited you into the conversation?" I asked, looking back at him. "You're all pissed off cause they're here to see me and not you!"
"Shut up Zac!"
"No! You've had a stick up your ass ever since you gave your solo to me, which, by the way, was your idea! I didn't even want to do it to begin with, so leave me alone!"
"Boys, both of you be quiet," Dad said.
"Fuck off, Dad!" we both yelled in unison. He sat down.
"Both of you better shut up cause we're not getting off this plane until you do. I want to go home," Isaac said. I sat down and huffed. "Dad, let's just go."
The plane was taxied somewhere else and we got off quietly just like we did every time something like this happened. I wasn't happy with it, but then again, I never really was. Out of the hundreds of times we've done this, I don't recall ever getting off the plane and not being upset.
With security increased once we were inside the airport, we left in peace. I didn't see any fans, surprisingly. Usually there were a few that never went all the way through the airport.
My car was waiting for me outside. I don't remember who I told to have it there, but it was there when we got to the parking lot. I do have to admit that being favored has its advantages. While Taylor and Isaac were stuck with the family on the way home, I got to drive myself. I wasn't going home, though.
I pulled up to Lauryn's house and got out of my car. I ran up and rang the doorbell. I expected Mick to answer the door, but a few minutes later a breathless Lauryn opened the door.
"Zac! You're home!" I openly cringed at her squeaky voice and she put her arms around me. "When'd you get back?"
"Just now."
"Really? You came here first?" I nodded. "That's so sweet!"
"I wanted to see you." She stepped out of her house, closing the door behind her. It was starting to get really annoying that I still haven't seen the inside of her house.
"I wish you would have called, there's something I need to tell you." Uh-oh. "My parents are splitting up. Before they do, they're taking me to Florida."
"When?"
"Tomorrow." What? "And then I'm moving with my mother to Ohio." What?!
"What?!"
"I'm going to be here for a week or so before I leave."
"When do you leave?" This was all too much for me. I just got home and now I wasn't going to be able to see her at all anymore. We had the tour coming along soon and now she was moving.
"Um, the second week of June, I think. I'll be back the first few days of June."
"That's when we go on the tour. Do you think you could come with me on the tour?" I asked.
"I want to. I don't know if I can or not, but I want to be there with you."
"Can you go out or are you busy?" I asked.
"No, I'm all packed and ready. Let me just say I'm leaving." She opened the door. "I'm leaving!" she shouted inside. "Okay, let's go."
"Okay, now that we can go, where are we going? I can't go anywhere public anymore, especially not today. Everyone's looking for me today."
"Why don't we stay here? You can come inside. There's not much to do, but it's not in the public."
"All right." This means I actually get to see in the inside of her house! I've been waiting to see the inside of her this place. She opened the door and let me in.
It was more than I expected. The main hall was large with a main staircase slightly winding around the sides. There were boxes stacked around so I'm sure there's less than before, but it was still incredible. The floor was while marble and so were the stairs.
"Come on," she said, pulling at my hand. "My room's upstairs." She led me up the stairs. The upstairs hallway was the same as the rest of the house with the white marble floor. She opened a door at the end of the hall and went inside.
Her room was surprisingly different than I thought. I figured she'd have pink everywhere, but the walls were covered in black and white swirls. Her bed was black and her dressers were all white. If I didn't know her better, I could have sworn she was Goth.
"Yeah, it's different. I know."
"It doesn't seem like you at all."
"What were you expecting?" she asked, and sat on her bed. "Pink?"
"Actually, yes." I walked up and put my arms on either side of her. "But I guess I'm completely wrong about you."
"Well, not completely." I followed her eyes and saw her trash can, which was pink. "Sweetie, when do you have to be home?" she asked.
"Later."
"So you have time for me?" I nodded. "What could we do?" I saw a glint in her eye. Someone wanted sex.
"I'll think of something." I smiled and kissed her.
After Lauryn left to Florida, I was stuck at home re-living my past with a series of paintings. I had nothing to do until the tour started in June, and that was still weeks away.
I found myself surrounded by filled canvas in my room. I'd taken out all of my finished and unfinished work from my chest and laid them around the room. I'd bought at least ten more canvases, and four of them were already filled. The one I was working on right now had to do with the fight Taylor and I had.
The boy in the picture was no more than six, and he looked a lot like me when I was six. I didn't mean for it to turn out like that, but then again I never start a painting and expect it to look like someone I know. Even Nic, my centerpiece, wasn't supposed to look like her but it ended up doing so. I finished that one yesterday; it's leaning against the wall next to my bed. I know I wanted to put it away and forget about it, but it was my centerpiece and it needed to be finished.
I finished a few dark strokes around the boy's cheek, giving him a bruise half the size of his face. This boy was much younger than I was when I first started getting beaten. I was thirteen when they started.
I stood up and stepped back from my painting. All I had left was the shadow. I'd be a shadow of his older brother down on him. I even had the slight element of fear in his eyes, but then again that is always perceived by the person viewing it.
I heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" I asked.
"It's Isaac." Shit. What was he doing here? God, he moves out and he still spends all of his time here! Should I let him in here?
"Hold on," I said. I walked over and unlocked the door. I opened it a crack. "Can I help you?"
"We're going into the studio tomorrow�what are you hiding?"
"Nothing," I said.
"Why won't you let me in?" I sighed. I might as well. I opened the door and let him inside. "What the hell did you do? Raid a museum?"
"No," I said, defending myself. "No, Ike, I painted all these."
"No you didn't; where'd you get them from?" he asked. He didn't believe me! My own brother didn't believe that I could actually do this on my own. How rude!
"No, I'm serious! See, here's one I haven't finished yet," I said, grabbing one portrait from the ground and showing it to him. "It looks like the same person did this as all the rest."
"I don't know..."
"Look over there. I have my paints and my brushes over there. If you look at the painting, you'll realize that one's still wet."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I didn't steal anything." He looked at the painting on my stand and then back at me. "Well?"
"Dude, that is so amazing!" I smiled, despite the fact that he was sounding a bit too much like Taylor instead of the twenty-three-year-old married guy that he was. "How long have you been doing this?"
"I don't know, a few years I guess. I brought them all out today to see what I needed to finish. I've got a show in Chicago in July; I showed some of my work to the owner of the museum and he said if I got enough pieces by then I could do a show. I've got more than enough now�this isn't half of it."
"How many do you have out here?" he asked, and began to look through the various paintings strung around the room. I had them places in stacks of five, and I'd just counted them earlier.
"Fifty-two. The one on the stand right now if fifty-three, but it's not quite finished yet. Almost, but not quite."
"How many finished ones do you have in here?"
"About forty-five." It was hard not to laugh at the look on Isaac's face. He seemed utterly astounded by what I was doing with these paintings. But then again, Isaac was just a generally astounded person.
"Where'd you find the time to paint all these?" he asked.
"I have been doing it a long time, you know. They don't take long to do either. The only one I was really spending a long time on was this one." I picked up the portrait of Nic. "It's my centerpiece."
"What centerpiece?"
"I told you, I have a show in July. This is my centerpiece." He nodded. He wasn't quite getting it, though. I decided to forget about it.
"So why'd you come here to begin with? Getting sick of Darling already? That can't be good," I said, and sat down in front of my canvas stand.
"No, I just came over to say we're in the studio tomorrow. Taylor's not too pleased�I doubt he'll show up."
"You could have called. The phone was invented for easy communication, you know. I think you just can't stand to be away from us."
"Also, Darling is trying to get Nic to come on the tour. It's not working so far, but I figured you should know if you plan to bring Lauryn."
"Yeah, I am bringing her."
"Okay. Well, see you tomorrow." He left the room. I closed the door behind him and locked it. I didn't know what I would do if Nic went. She probably wouldn't; why would she want to go anyway? She'd be out of place, especially since Darling got married. Either way, it was getting me worried. And with worry comes the cravings. I had some cigarettes in here somewhere.
I searched through my drawers and found a nearly empty pack of cigarettes in my bottom drawer. I pulled out one and found my lighter in the pack. I left the room and went into the hallway. I'm careful about smoking around my paintings. Smoke can do a lot to a painting. I have one where I actually want the smoky effect, but not with the rest of them.
I noticed my little sister's door open. She didn't need to see me doing this. I always told her it was wrong to smoke and drink and do drugs, and I've done all three. I walked out to the balcony and lit my cigarette out there. My body relaxed quickly and I let myself fall onto the bench. God, it felt so good to smoke again. When was the last time I smoked? Well, when was the last time I was worried? It was a few months ago, in the studio, I think. Taylor was being a bitch and Isaac was getting frustrated. We'd been in the studio for weeks without a break, not even weekends, trying to get it all done. Of course, we weren't even halfway done, but we thought we were. When was that? December? Probably.
The door opened. I looked over, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Hi Tay," I said, then looked out over the front lawn.
"Smoking? What are you worried about now?" he asked, sitting down next to me on the bench.
"Ike told me he's trying to get Nic to go on the tour. I don't want her to go. I'm bringing Lauryn along and I think if Nic went, it'd be awkward with Lauryn. I don't want that."
"Why would it be awkward?"
"Because I'm still infatuated with Nic. If she's there, I'm not sure I can have all my attention toward Lauryn." I took another drag from my cigarette. "I don't know what I'd do if she came along."
"She won't come, Zac. Why would she?"
"Yeah, that's what I figured. But I don't want to think about her. Let me smoke in peace."
"You need to quit."
"You know I only smoke when I'm worried," I said, exhaling my smoke at him. He made a face.
"Well, if Nic goes on the tour, you'll be back to two packs a day. I don't know how you could do it without anybody noticing. You had ten minutes of freedom a day."
"I had more free time than that. Mom and Dad knew I smoked all the time anyway. I tried not to smoke in front of them, but after a while I stopped caring."
"Yeah, after a while we did too much drugs to care about much of anything." I watched as I exhaled yet another cloud of smoke into the clean air. "Listen, I'm sorry for going off on you during the promotions. I just didn't want to believe that you singing my song could be what brought us out of a slump."
"It's nice to know you really appreciate my talent, Taylor."
"Well, Zac, if you had the best voice then you'd sing lead on all the songs anyway, now wouldn't you?"
"It's not who has the best voice in general, Tay, it's who has the best voice for the song. I had the best voice for the song. I should know, I wrote it."
"Listen, I don't want to get into another fight with you, all right?"
"Then stop criticizing me. You know, I thought we were getting along. I finally stopped fearing you, but now I'm just getting annoyed by you." I put out my cigarette and walked back inside the house. He followed.
"Zac, I'm just trying to talk to you; I'm not trying to upset you. I'm sorry."
"Then stop thinking you're better than me! You're not. I'm not better than you. We're all supposed to be equal here but since you had all the solos and all the fans it went to your head."
"You're attacking me now."
"I'm telling you the truth."
"So was I." I rolled my eyes and walked back to my room. I closed the door and sat in front of my canvas stand. Now that I'm pissed off at Taylor, I could finish my painting. I grabbed a pencil from the table and began shading in a shadow. I was going to make this person bigger than Taylor, of course, because no one needs to know that scrawny little Taylor could beat the crap out of me.
I finished my portrait in a half an hour. As I was setting it down to dry, the phone rang. I figured it wasn't for me, but I picked it up anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hey Zac, let me talk to Mom," Darling's voice said.
"Why?" I asked. I might as well be annoying, I haven't talked to Darling since her wedding and I couldn't be annoying then because it was her wedding.
"Cause I want to. I don't want to talk to you." How rude! But coming from Darling, it seemed like a compliment.
"Fine!" I walked out of the door to find my mother. She was in the kitchen. Why was this woman always in the kitchen? "Mom, Darling's deciding to grace you with a phone conversation." I gave her the phone and walked out of the room.
"Darling, have you conned Nic into going yet?" What? Does the whole world want her to come on the tour? What the hell?
I went back into my room and closed the door again. I had a craving for a cigarette again, but I just had one. Just hearing her name wants me to go back to smoking all the time. Just hearing about her worries me.
Instead, I pulled out her painting and looked at it. It was finished it already, but I could add more. It won't get my mind off her, but it'll make my craving go away.