Page 8 of Goodbye Note

VARIAN

“I’ve never told the story,” I admitted when Arik didn’t look away.

I don’t know what I was thinking, coming to this release party. These things always made me feel like the awkward kid in the corner. Like I’d missed the fucking course on how to be a normal person while growing up on a tour bus. But the draw to meet this guy everyone in the scene was calling a savant got me out of my hotel room. The fates had smiled, putting me in Chicago the same night. When would I have the chance again?

And now here we were, spilling our guts like we were old friends. I’d never been this honest with anyone.Not even my brother.

“Seriously?” Disbelief framed his face and expanded his chest. He was the type of guy who couldn’t hide anything. No poker face. It was all written right there, plain as day if you looked the right way.

“My dad had a story he told, and I just let him. He wasn’t a reliable narrator, but it was easier than talking about it myself.I didn’t want to talk about it.” Not to any of the doctors, surgeons, or even the therapists my grandparents made me see.

“It didn’t bother you that it wasn’t the truth?”

“I think the truth would have got his parental rights terminated.” I laughed without humor. Parts of it still bothered me, but I couldn’t exactly live my life and lock myself in a bathroom, so I had to choose to put it in a box on a shelf, tucked away in the back corner of my mind. “So no, I was desperate for a relationship with my dad after my mother died and let it go, like everything else.”

He nodded, finally looking away. “I can understand that. Maybe it’s something most people can’t understand, and I know it’s different, but a part of me will never live up to what my parents expect.” It was like Arik knew me on a deep level already.

“So…” I breathed. I thought it would be easier without him looking at me, but I wanted those green eyes back.

His attention flickered back to my face when I didn’t speak. “You really don’t have to.”

“Don’t look away,” I said, trying to let myself speak about that night but not relive it. The line between memory and PTSD was a fucking razor-slit.

“I won’t.” He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look at me with pity or shame. His gaze held steady.

“My dad is an addict. Has been my whole life, and it doesn’t matter how successful he is, he’s never had a lot of money, and the money that comes in goes out just as fast. Especially when I was younger before he got as big as he is now. But that Christmas, he got some cash for an MTV Unplugged, and he decided he was going to use it to rent a place in Aspen for the holidays. When word got around that he planned to leave my brother and I at my grandparents for the holidays, I was devastated. I was at that age when your parents were still heroes, and it was a crushing blow. I begged him to take us with him.”

Arik didn’t press or hurry me along. He listened, passing the bottle back and forth to let me tell the story at my pace. “So he agreed to take you?”

I scooted forward to let my legs hang off the side of the wharf. “He did. So really it’s my fault.”

He followed suit and put his hand on top of mine. “It’s not your fault.”

I turned to look into his eyes. He didn’t break the intense stare or look at my scar. He kept his eyes locked on mine. The moon illuminated his hair, messy like he’d just had a good fuck. It wasn’t jet black like I’d first thought, but a washed-out blue with hints of silver. Much more emo to my grunge. He was as pretty as they said in a way little blurry thumbnails on social media could never do justice.

“I go back and forth, but maybe I wouldn’t be who I am without it.” It was like a part of the band at this point. I’d had some big, prolific photographers shoot me to highlight it as well, one for the cover of Vogue. I’d been told a myriad of different things about it throughout my life. It brought out the best and worst in people. “But let me get this out. The first time is the hardest, right?”

“You really don’t have to,” he said again.

“I want to. It feels like time.” I didn’t know what I believed in, but I knew the universe nudged us where we needed to be. It felt right. “We made it to Aspen fine, and it was like any other time I’d stayed with my parents.”

“Did you not live with them?”

I shook my head, realizing he really didn’t know anything about me. I’d taken for granted how well-known my origin story was. “No, we toured with them a lot, but when they weren’t on tour, we bounced between my grandparents and my uncle. Mom was in and out before she died, but it was always intermittent. She was working or off god knows where.”

“I can’t imagine…” he trailed off, lost in something.

I wanted to know more. The pain he brought to his music hit me in the chest. Before I ever saw his face, I knew Arik was someone I needed to know.Besides all the symbolism in the band name and artwork.

“I don’t know anything else. My grandparents are like my parents. They’ve given me everything I have.”

“I’m glad you had them.” He picked up the bottle and pressed it to his full lips, but he didn’t drink right away. “What?” he said, getting a drunk smile.

“You’re not drinking.”

“You were looking at me.” Arik took a swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Something passed between us. There are people we meet in life who click, and he clicked. It was easy with him.

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