Page 31 of Broken Chorus

“Good to know.”

Yet from the way Micah said it, Aaron couldn’t be certain if he truly felt that way, or if he was uncertain about how to take what Aaron had said.

“For the record, since we might as well rip the last of the bandage off and be done with it, I have no interest in discussing god, theology, eastern religions, wicca, witchcraft, or even Satanism with you or anyone else,” Micah said. “I left that behind when I left my home and my family. I have no interest in revisiting the topic unless you wanna compare which of us has the biggest reason to hate all things religious. Personally, I’m sure it’s me, considering I grew up in a culture where we’re supposed to forgive even the most heinous crimes against us, and yet we have to shun the people we love so they’ll fall in line.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever, consider it a dropped subject,” Aaron muttered, squirming as he took another drag.

“Good.”

Aaron exhaled a series of smoke rings and was about to bring the joint back to his lips when the French doors of the balcony swung open, and Declan came wheeling out. He had such a fierce scowl on his face that Aaron backed into the railing trying to avoid him and that chair. He waited for the yelling andcursing to start, his thoughts spiraling as he tried to remember if he’d fucked something up. If he had, it wasn’t intentional. He opened his mouth to say that when Declan plucked the joint from between his fingers and sparked it up himself. It shocked him out of a confused twist of reality and memory and brought Aaron firmly back to the present.

“You might as well keep staring and get it all out of your system,” Declan grumbled when Aaron didn’t look away even after the third and fourth drags he’d taken off Aaron’s joint.

Blinking, Aaron wondered what the hell else the guy expected him to do while he had Aaron crowded against a rail while he was steadily reducing the blunt to a roach. “Excuse me?”

“No. I will not excuse your shitty behavior.”

“What the fuck are you talking about!” Aaron snapped. “You’re the one who rolled out here and decided to claim my blunt like I owed you something, which I don’t.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Declan snapped, flicking what was left of the blunt at Aaron. It bounced off his chest, a tiny red fire trail arching off it. Never one to waste good weed, Aaron knelt to pick it up, only to have Declan roll one of the wheels of his chair over top of it.

“What the hell is your problem man!” Aaron snarled, snatching his fingers out of harm’s way and landing on his ass.

The fierce glare Declan shot him nearly froze him in place as Aaron huddled against the rail, heart pounding so hard it was making his head hurt. “Shouldn’t I be asking you the same thing!” Declan barked.

Micah slid between the pair, forcing Declan to back away. “Let’s take whatever this is about to be inside where no one is tempted to toss anyone over a railing.”

“Too late.” Declan grumbled. “I’m well past temptation.”

“Then how about you get it back in check before some concerned neighbor sends the cops up here!” Micah declared,the whole exchange making Aaron scrunch tighter against the bars.

Was Micah defending him, or just trying to keep the bloodshed to a minimum? His head spun trying to figure it out, the balcony flashing in a bust of light, replaced by a kitchen with cracked yellow tile and a wooden spoon slashing shadows around the room each time his grandfather swung it at him. Cringing, the back of Aaron’s head struck the metal bar behind him, and everything flashed again, bringing him back to the moment and the two men in front of him.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Micah stared Declan down, the other man narrowing his eyes before backing his wheelchair back inside the condo.

“T-thanks,” Aaron muttered as he slowly unfolded himself from his crouch, back aching as his head continued throb.

“For the record, I happen to agree with him,” Micah said. “There is no excuse for you being an ass after you read our dossiers. Our playing was good enough to speak for itself before you knew anything else about us. You should have left it at that.”

“I would have, but it’s hard to ignore something so clearly printed in black and white.”

“Okay, well that covers what you thought about me, what’s your excuse for Declan?”

“Where would you like me to start?” Aaron hissed. “The logistics of getting him up on stage, especially at some of the bigger venues, or the fact that our tour bus isn’t exactly wheelchair friendly? Being able to play and all is great when you’re booked at downtown bars and the occasional festival, but we’re talking high octane shows, high profile events, and a breakneck pace that quite honestly, I don’t see him keeping up with.”

“And you base all that on the chair?”

“What else do I have to base it off of?”

“Exactly. That dude is one beast of a drummer and have you looked at his upper arms, he’s jacked. I’d be willing to bet he’d leave you in the dust if you were both in a rush to get somewhere. Do you wanna know what I think?”

“Not particularly.”

“Too bad, I’m gonna tell you anyway,” Micah said, pausing dramatically. At this point, Aaron decided he’d had about enough of the entire day and needed a shower and a swim. “I think you haven’t looked at him at all.”

“Hello, you just got between us, I was face to face with him, sorta, so how do you figure I haven’t looked at him?”

“Your eyes might have been pointed in his direction, but you never saw past the chair,” Micah said. “Hell, if you ask me, I’d say you were terrified of it.”

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