6. Varian

Ireplayed the night in my head over and over for the next month. I searched for reasons to go to Chicago or to reach out.

We'd traded a few emails, but nothing major.

He was busy. Finals. His parents. Preparing for his first major U.S. tour.

While I had a month to think. I'd never be the type of person who could settle down. I was meant to be on tour. I couldn't relax in this place. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. It held too many awful memories. I had a whole summer of him to look forward to and Arik was going to be the death of me. I just knew it.

"You act like you're submitting a thesis. What are you doing?" I sat in front of our grandparents' ancient computer while they were at church.

I clicked off the email so he wouldn't read over my shoulder. "Emailing. Fuck. Why are you so nosy."

"Why are you so skittish?" He turned his head from the screen in a slow, horror-like movement.

I shuddered. "Stop. You're making me think you're dead."

"Only inside, baby." Val gave me a horrifying smile with his eyes unfocused."Just buy yourself a laptop. Why are you still using that thing?"

"It's a wonder you're a sex symbol when all I see is ‘I'm going to get murdered in my sleep,'" I said, flipping through my socials to see if there was anything interesting. We weren't quite at the ‘have someone else manage our social media' level of things, so I still kept tabs on mine, even if some of the things I was tagged in were outrageous. "It's just another thing I'd have to keep track of on tour. You know how often I misplace my phone."

"Cut the crap. Who's the email to?" He hit a random key on the keyboard, bringing up private messages.

I swatted his hand away. "Hey, now. You're going to accidentally send my nudes to someone!"

"It's really interesting that you say you have your nudes on our grandparents' computer." He hit another key.

I cringed, then laughed, shoving him off. "Get the fuck out of here."

"Seriously, what is with all this secretive behavior?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Did Dad reach out or something?"

"No. Fuck, no. I wouldn't talk to him." I glanced back at the screen to make sure he didn't bring my mess of an email back up.

"The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up, and since it's blowing up we'll be at Warped…" He looked away, hiding his emotion.

My chest ached, but I wouldn't show it. "No, it's not him. Fuck him."

"Then who else are you emailing while Gran and Gramps are at church?"

"Look at this." I pointed at the monitor. "Arik is doing a live chat to promote some new social media thing he's now on." I clicked the link to bring up PocketJournal and instantly hit the button to make an account. "Should I make an account to join the chatroom?"

"What is this, Y2K? Who has a chatroom?"

"We have a Discord for our band. Don't act like chatrooms have gone anywhere. Should I join?"

"You're already doing it and still avoiding me."

"I was trying to figure out what to say to Arik," I admitted, hands hovering over the keyboard, not sure what to make my screen name.

"You still talking to him?" He tilted his head, studying me. "You don't like friends. This must be serious."

I held up my middle finger. "It's easy with him. I don't have to force it."

"So why is the email hard?"

"It feels—" I searched for words to make sense of the knots in my brain. "Forced. Like the same chemistry isn't there unless he's in front of me. I hate the digital age. I was made to be a Boomer or some shit."

"Always chasing the dopamine."

"Why do you think I named the band this." I sat back in the desk chair, spinning a slow circle. "Help me pick a screen name to join this chat later."

"Just put your name. You don't have time to mess around, Fox and Bronx will be here."

I tapped a finger on the desk. "No, I don't want everyone to know it's me right away. I want to have some fun with him."

Val grabbed a bottle of something from Grandpa's stash and held it out to me. "We're making this a drinking game before we go out."

"What are the rules?" I asked, taking the bottle.

Val thought for a second. "Every message you send, you take a drink. Every reply you get before he figures out it's you, I take a drink."

"So my goal is to…not let him figure out it's me?"

"Yes, but you can't be so vague. You have to be yourself. No lying." Val got a crooked grin on him.

"Okay, so then what do I call myself?"

"Chemical Smuggler."

"That sounds like a grape smuggler." I typed it in, and the name was available. "It's mine."

"I have something to tell you."

I cocked my head, twisting to read his expression. "What?"

"Dad stopped by last week."

I shoved to my feet. "Why are you just now telling me?"

"Gramps asked me not to?"

"Why are you asking me? Fucking explain." I balled my hands into fists like I'd fight the ghost of his presence.

"He didn't want this reaction. But I can't keep lying about it. That's why I thought he tried to get to you and you might be emailing him."

"What did he say?" I flexed my jaw.

"He said he's changed. Said he was sober and that he wanted to be part of our lives. Help us with shit. Our deals. He spouted a lot of crap before Gramps got him to leave."Vallen steeled himself, but I knew it hurt him too. He was just better at hiding it.

I shook my head, pressing my eyes closed. "Who did he speak to?"

"Gramps while we were still on tour, and then he turned up again and caught me coming home."

"He was here twice?!" Rage boiled through my veins.

"Yes."

I can't believe he didn't tell me. I lifted my hollow gaze to meet my brother's. "You better not…" I couldn't even get the words out.

"No. I wouldn't do that to you." His gaze flickered to my scar, and I turned away from him.

I couldn't handle the focus. "Fuck him. We starting off with a drink?" I didn't wait for his answer, twisting off the top to take a swig. I was ready to be out of here. Ready to be back on tour and away from all the reminders of this place. He didn't deserve access to us, and him showing up just gave my grandparents another reason to be disappointed with me.

I looked enough like him; I knew how they saw me. Choosing to create art would always be looked down upon by people who only valued education and money, but my father loved to stomp in and remind everyone why they hated musicians.

"It's not like that." Val grabbed the bottle, but when I tried to snatch it back, he held up a finger and poured some into his mouth. "They don't want him coming around. They don't think it's your fault."

My gaze bored into his cheek, but he wouldn't look at me. "Why would they think it's my fault?"

"I…misspoke. They wouldn't blame you for him showing up. They know how he is."

"Why would it even come up? They blame me?"

But I knew the answer. Maybe I just wanted to hear it from my brother, who'd always been closer to them. He learned my parents were a disappointment much earlier than I had. I don't know if it was because he was a year older or just better at seeing through their bullshit, but he stopped talking to them years before I did. I gave them chance after fucking chance.

"It didn't. They love you," Val said carefully.

"We need to get our own place. We can't keep coming back here."

"That will break their hearts," Vallen said, but he didn't disagree.

"I already have to wear the consequences of his actions on my face. I can't bear the weight of his actions too."

Vallen put a hand on my shoulder. "I love you. I'm always on your side."

"I know." I wouldn't meet his gaze now. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I want to focus on what makes me feel good." And Arik made me feel good.

"Is that smart?"

I finally looked at him. "What?"

"He's straight."

"We are friends," I said through my teeth.

"I just don't…"

"Say it."

He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. "I don't want you to get hurt because he can't feel the same."

"It's not that."

We both knew I was lying.