Page 95 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Luke’s words rattled through him as Alex and Ben burst into the room.

“He’s gone,” Alex said. “Stormed out the building. How are you doing, Matt?”

“You remember how we ended up on tour with Stryker?” Matt asked. “Because their opening act went off the fucking rails. Drugs. Fights. The drummer refusing to play. It’s us. We’re becoming them. Or maybe we always were them. I don’t know. But here we are, trying to sign to a major label, and that,” he yelled, pointing in the direction of the stage they’d just left, “will be all over the internet before we even get back to our hotel. We’re a fucking parody. We’re a cliché. And I fucking hate that most of all.”

Ben shook his head. “Chaya says there’s this thing in psychology, something to do with balanced emotions. Like if one person is doing all the being stable, the other does all the being out of control. If one does all the running, the other does all the chasing. I don’t know what it is between the two of you that makes this polarity, but he went too far. There should be repercussions.”

Alex slumped into a chair. “I’m probably closest to him out of any of you, and nobody wants to kill him more than I do. Whatever you need, Matt, I’ve got your back.”

The anger Matt had felt drained from him. It leeched out through his body onto the concrete floor. But it was hard to catch what emotion had filled him instead. Sadness. Grief. A pinch of despair that everything they’d worked for, everything so close to being fulfilled, was fading out of sight.

Ben sat down onto a plastic chair. “Fuck it. I’m done with this shit. Jase is on his own.”

“I know he’s your cousin and brother,” Luke said, addressing them all. “But if we need to fire him to be taken seriously, we should perhaps vote on it.”

And for a moment, a vision of Nan holding Jase over the sink while blood dripped from his nose filled his mind. He was small. Wearing shorts. His legs didn’t reach the floor. Jase shaking in her arms in between moans. Tears streaming down Nan’s cheeks. Matt fought to keep hold of the frayed edges of the memory.

“Watch your feet, Matt,” she’d called out. “Can you pull over a chair for Jase to stand on?”

Glass from the back door crunched beneath his feet. The memory was faint, difficult to hold on to.

Jase’s dad had burst into Nan’s house and punched his son in the face.

Just like Matt had in the last hour.

Other memories came to mind. Of Jase as a little boy in grey school shorts, begging Matt to let him walk to school with him so he could be cool like his older brother. Of saving for a stereo for the room he shared with Jase, only for Jase to stumble with and spill two glasses of Vimto he’d made secretly as a thank you to Matt for letting him use it. The feeling of desperation as the stereo hissed and sparked as the purple liquid covered it, never to work again.

Matt rubbed his hands over his face, wincing as he pressed on his eye.

Jase.

Fucking hell.

He took a deep breath. Then another. And another.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Matt said quietly. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my career fighting, being strung out on stage, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“It’s tough watching the two of you, to be honest,” Ben said. “Alex is my best mate. I can’t imagine hating him like you two seem to hate each other. But we also don’t know how to help you. Jase has always provoked you, ever since you were kids. We’re so used to it, that we only notice when it gets really bad.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I don’t think either of us know how to outgrow who we’ve been.” He stood up. “And Nan said something to me about Jase ... shit, I don’t know. I’m going to the hotel. Let’s pack all our shit up. He can come to me if he wants to fix things.”

It took another hour before they got everything back to the hotel, and between the four of them, they managed to get everything to their floor. Sitting outside of his room was Jase. His back was against the wall. His head slumped to one side, fast asleep. He’d always slept like the dead after an outburst. He had a plaster over a cut on his cheek, and his face had been cleaned up.

“Go ahead,” he said to the rest of the band. “I’ve got this.”

As the doors shut, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he reached for it.

Everything okay? You said we were going to chat tonight. If you just passed out, don’t worry, I’ll speak to you in the morning, but you missed some spectacular new underwear I got just for you.

Two sentences from Izabel calmed the way he felt. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine her, lying on his bed. But instead of sex, she was holding him, his head on her shoulder for a change.

When he opened his eyes, Jase was still on the floor, and he felt even worse.Thiswas his real fear. Luke would lose his shit when he found out. He might quit the band, but he’d still be there for Izabel. Matt doubted if Jase would ever forgive him, especially if his feelings for Izabel were as genuine as she had thought.

There was some trouble between Jase and me tonight. We’re fine. Just trying to sort things out now. Message me when you need to go to sleep. I’m sorry I missed the underwear, but I miss you more.

Did you fight?

Yeah. Fucking stupid, I know.

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