Page 16 of Fresh Start
His black hair was slightly curled and short, and his eyebrows were as thick as you’d expect a Greek-American to have. They framed his square face in an image of an Adonis.
Even his arms were big and bulky and stretching the fabric of his T-shirt so the fabric looked glued on his skin. My mind flashed back to college when we used to hold each other in bed and tell our wildest dreams. That seemed like a lifetime ago. And even so, now more than ever, I wanted those big, strong arms to take me and never let me go.
I needed to snap out of it. We hadn’t been together in millennia. There was definitely no reason for me to open old wounds.
Melody arrived with our food and shook me out of my nostalgia as both of us started devouring the contents of the plate in front of us. I tried to concentrate on my breakfast, but even my increased hunger couldn't distract me from the stiff air between us. Before I said anything stupid, I stuffed a croissant in my mouth.
The ambient music in the restaurant became more prominent the quieter we stayed. The laughter and chatter from the tables next to us were becoming louder and more deafening until it was all I could hear. I was tempted to take my plate to my room, but I wasn't going to give up so easily. I wasn't a quitter. If I was, I wouldn't have the career I had today.
"I heard about your band," I said. "I'm sorry to hear you guys broke up."
"I'm not," Leo said without looking at me.
"Were things not very good between you guys? I was under the impression that you are all close friends."
"Were."
"I see," I said. "Well, at least you made a name for yourself."
Leo stopped eating, put his fork down, and looked at me.
"What’s that supposed to mean? You don't need to patronize me," he said.
"I…I wasn't—"
"You think you're someone just because you make some stupid movies? Who the hell do you think you are to act all high and mighty as if you're taking pity on me? I have a name; I had a name even before the band. At least I didn't sell out," Leo shouted.
My jaw dropped open. I looked at the other tables, shaking my head in disbelief. Did Leo just dare say I was a sell-out to my face? Just because I was a Hollywood actor?
I’d have expected this from someone who had no creative cell in their body and no aspirations in life, but coming from another artist? Someone who'd had the same dreams as I did when he was young? And where on earth had all of that come from? Was this what I was going to get for trying to be nice?
"A sell-out? You mean to say that making a living out of my dream job is selling out? Well, if that's the case, I'd rather be a sell-out than a drug addict. Or are you a drunk this month? Sorry, I can't quite keep up," I shouted too.
"You fucking asshole," Leo replied, dropped his fork on the table, pushed his chair away, and stormed out of the restaurant.
As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I didn’t even mean any of it. Leo didn’t deserve that. But I wasn't going to sit there and take abuse from him without retaliating. If Leo hadn't been such an ass himself, I’d never have said it.
I had to apologize. It was the least I could do. But before I did, I’d have to let Leo calm down first. And while I was at it, I had to calm down myself too.
My hand hung limply over the plate, and I let the croissant take a dive. After everything, it tasted bitter and inedible.
“Is everything all right, Dawson,” Melody came over and said in a whisper.
I turned to her and smiled. "Couldn't be better," I sighed.
Four
Leo
Iraced down the stairs and shut my bedroom door behind me with such force, the whole building quaked.
My hands were shaking so much that my bones could have come out of their sockets. I couldn't let Dawson get under my skin. I was an adult, goddammit, and I could deal with my emotions.
In fact, it was embarrassing to think I’d stormed out like that and let him be the bigger man.
I rubbed my face and took deep breaths. The more breaths I took, the more my heartbeat slowed.
A knock on the door reverberated through my body, and I turned to answer.
