Page 22 of Touch in the Dark

He looks like I just dropped the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’m not about letting anyone down,” he drinks some more beer. “I get that we need to tour with the anniversary album, but they’re on our asses about getting another one out already. They want us working on that while we’re gearing up for a tour. It just feels like the label are pushing us to the limit to make more money. I don’t know man, maybe I am tired, as in I need sleep, it’s been a long day.”

“I’m taking this very seriously,” I tell him. “We’ve always said if one of us isn’t feeling it, we talk about it. That’s the way we do shit. You know that. If there is anyone you can talk to about this it’s us, any of us.”

“Maybe…” he finally looks over at me. “I need a break.”

“Like Ross and Rachel.”

“Fuck off,” he barks out a laugh and I grin, but we both sober quickly. This is serious. “Thing is, I’m sure Adam wants to do the new album at the same time, you know what he’s like about music. Jenna’s been wrapping stuff up at work, making it so she can work remotely and come on tour with us. And Jordan is itching to get on the road.”

“Dude, they’d drop it all in a heartbeat if they knew it was hurting you.”

“Never said it was hurting,” he scowls.

“Bullshit. I’m the one whose been around the last few months, watching you sink lower.”

“It’s not that bad,” he answers tiredly.

“Hate to break it to you man, but it is. I just didn’t want to bring it up. Now I realise I should have asked sooner. What is it you want?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Archer. Seriously. Tell me.”

“A Ross and Rachel moment. Maybe.”

“Dude, man the fuck up. Do you want to put off the world tour? The next album?” He stares back at me. “Truth, Arch. Because if that is what you want, if it’s what it takes to help, then I’m there. Whatever you need. The others will too.”

“Doubtful,” he finishes his beer.

“We’re family first. If you can’t be honest with yourself, how can we help fix this.”

He gets up and walks to the window, looking out at Manhattan laid out before him. I go and join him. It really is a fucking fantastic view. We are blessed to have this lifestyle, to be able to live like this, but not if it’s hurting.

“I don’t want to be here.”

My heart falls into my stomach and my pulse quickens. I turn to look at him. He rolls his eyes.

“Dude, it’s not that bad, shit come on. I mean,” he waves a hand at New York, then he goes on, without looking back at me. “And I don’t just mean in the city. When was the last time we got a vacation? I mean, look at tonight, Doris was fucking thrilled to see us. How many of her birthdays have you missed? Not to sound like a prick for saying it, but she is eighty today. I’d love her to live to be a hundred, but we know that won’t happen. And it’s not just Doris. It’s all of us, we’re constantly away from our family. Dad isn’t doing that great, it’s under control but his diabetes is a problem. My brothers are settled down, but they can be there for him at the drop of a hat. And they’ve got kids I barely even know. I’ve got so tied up in everything, I feel like I’ve lost myself to the machine, I guess.”

I turn and lean my shoulder against the glass, the cold seeps in through the fabric but I stay where I am, until he looks up at me.

“Jenna nearly died last year, and Adam was halfway around the world, fuck, you saw how he was over that,” he reminds me. “He was lucky. He got back here to her, and she was safe.”

“Yeah, I get that. But man, we can’t plan for shit like that. Even if everyone were happy and we were off doing our thing and something happened, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault.”

“I’m not saying that. Shit,” he turns and walks back to the chair. He picks up the remote and flicks off the TV. “I don’t want to make a huge deal out of this. I just need some time away, but not touring.”

“Some you time?” I grin because I know this is too heavy, it needs some levity. “Okay, so when we go see the others tomorrow, we talk about it.”

“It’ll cause a shit ton of trouble.”

“And?”

“Why does nothing faze you?”

“This is fazing me,” I push off the window but don’t move too close. “At the risk of sounding like a psychoanalyst asshole, you’re not yourself. I see you slipping away.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, making me laugh more.

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