A red tainted Silence (2 page)

So maybe by going back to the beginning, when we first met, before the craziness got hold of us, I’d understand it myself. I’d tell him a story about a boy who hadn’t understood what was really important in life. Who’d let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip through his fingers and disappear into dust.

I’d tell him about me. The real me. The inside me that he deserved to know.

Maybe then we’d find ourselves leaving this hospital, this town, together.

God, how I wanted that.

I set my fingers on the keys and began.

A Red-Tainted Silence

5

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him -- the wild shock of black hair, the beautiful blue eyes, the full lips with that perfected pout. Such a diva, even from the beginning. I was entranced, smitten, mesmerized. He had the face of an angel, and the voice of one, too. And almost from the start, I began the pattern of losing Nicholas. I was good at that. I guess I never believed I really deserved him, what he would bring to us both. What we would experience because of him. What we could be because of him. What I could be because of the strength and belief he had in me.

Denial denial denial.

Damn, I was good at that.

* * * * *

“Thanks for taking us, Brandon.”

“No problem,” I said, glancing at my cousin Jenny. She sat in the front seat of my Volkswagen, her three friends giggling in the back seat. Every time I looked in the rearview mirror, one or all three of them would look at me, then go into another giggle fit.

Ninth graders.

“This is for a class, right?” I asked Jenny, trying to ignore her friends.

She nodded. “Yeah. We have to see two plays a semester and write a report. Turn here.”

“’Kay.” I glanced at the rearview mirror again, and once more her friends looked at me, then burst into laughter. I sighed and glanced at Jenny. She rolled her eyes.

6 Carolyn Gray

“Sorry about the idiots, Brandon.”

“Hey, we’re not idiots.”

“Is it our fault your cousin is so cute?” the redhead said.

“Yeah, you could’ve warned us,” the third one said. “He’s hot.” Fits of laughter again. My face burned and I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I was anywhere but around these girls. Later, I would look back at that moment and realize my reaction to female attention never did change. As Dream took off, those same friends of Jenny’s were even more unmerciful whenever I happened to be around them. I was theirs they’d claim. I, the Brandon Ashwood, actually took them to a play. They knew me.

Jenny told me later one of them -- or maybe all of them -- claimed to have been my girlfriend for a time. They were all cute, I guess, but definitely not my type. I didn’t refute their claims, though. It came in handy, having a lot of “former” girlfriends when fans went digging into my past. And dig they did.

I glanced at Jenny again and she shrugged. She mouthed “sorry,” then winked. I grinned back. It wasn’t her fault, after all, that they thought I was cute (though as skinny as I was then, I sure didn’t see what they saw).

More hushed talking in the back. Things like “You ask him” and “No, you, you’re the one who wants to know.” I took a deep breath and tried to make myself relax. This was going to be a long, long evening.

The dark-haired one -- Missy -- finally said, “Is it true you dropped out of school, Brandon?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Last year.”

“Why’d you drop out?”

“To play music.”

More hushed whispering. Snatches of “He’s so quiet” and “Doesn’t say much” and

“Yeah, but he’s cute.” Jenny snickered at me. I vowed to get even with her for this. I sighed again -- I’d cornered the market on that this evening, it looked like.

“Oh, wow, cool. What do you play?”

“Guitar, keyboards, drums.”

“Wow, all that? That’s awesome. You have a band?”

“More or less.”

“Their singer has mono,” Jenny said.

To tell the truth, it was worse than that. Reggie, lead singer for our band, Ashwood, was seriously unreliable. Good, but unreliable. I’d had to cancel several gigs I’d worked hard to put together, including that night’s. The mono incident was the last in a long string of reasons why things hadn’t been going so well. I was beginning to wonder if I’d made a A Red-Tainted Silence

7

mistake by dropping out of high school. Not that I missed it; I wasn’t that good of a student, except in band and math.

It looked like I’d just traded homework nightmares for other, even more complicated worries. First Reg broke an arm, then broke up with his girlfriend -- he was useless for a month after that -- and now, mono. So he claimed. I didn’t know for sure; he hadn’t shown up for rehearsal in over five days, or called. If it’d been just me who had a say in the matter, I would’ve fired him months ago.

As it was, here it was a Friday night, and no gig, another missed opportunity. So when my cousin had called, begging me to take her and her friends to the high school to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, I had no reason to refuse. Besides, I like my cousin Sprout. I still call her that. Like me, she’d inherited the blond hair, green eyes, and the long and lean genes that somehow had skipped our mothers. Sprout and I could’ve almost been twins.

“I don’t care if he is. He’s adorable.”

“Adorable? He’s beautiful!”

“And his voice, too. It’s so sexy. He should’ve been Joseph.”

“Probably thought he’s too short. You sure he’s gay?” I choked, then glanced in the mirror, but for once the girls didn’t catch me. Who were they talking about?

More laughter in the back. “Oh, yeah. They broke up, though. They went to the senior dance together and got kicked out and that was that.”

“That’s sad,” Jenny said, glancing at me.

I jerked my gaze back to the mirror. Missy was nodding her head. “What’s sad is he could have any girl he wants, and he doesn’t want them.”

“Why would a guy want to ... you know ... another guy, anyway?” Who were they talking about?

“I mean, how do they even ... you know ... do it?” Another fit of giggles. I gripped the steering wheel and swallowed hard, wondering what all I’d missed while my thoughts wandered. My face burned as the conversation continued as if I weren’t even there -- or maybe because I was there. I let my breath out in a whoosh. Jenny looked at me, her eyes showing a curiosity that made me uncomfortable. She kept looking at me like that. I looked back at the road.

“Um, who are you guys talking about?” I finally asked, cursing myself.

“The guy who plays Jacob.”

“Nicholas Kilmain.” All three girls in the back sighed.

And that was the first time I heard his name, in a car full of giggling, sighing ninth-grade girls. In the coming years, I’d see a lot of that kind of behavior directed toward 8 Carolyn Gray

Nicholas. I’d watch him eat it up and run with it as I drowned in horrible want and envy, but right then I had no idea how Nicholas Kilmain would irrevocably change my life. Would I have done anything different if I’d known? Would I have dropped the girls off, disappeared for two hours, and missed the most important revelation of my life?

As I write this now, and watch Nicholas as he sleeps in his hospital bed, I have to answer no. No, despite all the pain and heartache ... No. I wouldn’t have done anything different, at least not about the early years. Later, though ...

I pulled into the high school parking lot and after a few minutes of searching finally found a spot. The lot was jam-packed with cars. All for a high school play? I got out of the car and looked around as I held the seat for the girls to get out. They were giggling again about something and, arms linked, headed for the auditorium. I locked my car and followed, realizing then that Jenny had stayed behind.

“What’s up, Sprout?” I asked her, looping my arm around her shoulder. I really liked Jenny a lot -- over the years she would time and again be the one I’d turn to whenever things got really rough. No other woman knew me like Jenny did. Not even my mom.

“Not much. You okay, Brandon?” she asked, sliding her arm around my waist.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged as we followed after her friends. Missy looked over her shoulder, a wistful expression on her face.

“Watch out, Missy has the hots for you.”

I grimaced and pulled her closer. “Missy’s out of luck. You’re my date tonight.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her sit next to you.”

“Thanks. So why’d you ask if I was okay?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. Mom says things aren’t going so well for you. She’s worried. She thinks you guys should fire Reggie.” I grinned. “Yeah, my mom’s told me that a lot lately.”

“So, why don’t you?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. “Finding a decent singer is hard. It’s everything. Reg has a great voice, but --”

“But he’s never there.” She paused. “I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

“I have an ulterior motive for asking you to take us tonight.” We joined the end of the line, and I dropped my arm from around her shoulder. We stood a few feet from her friends.

Their heads were bowed over a program. Giggling again.

“And what would that be?”

Her eyes danced. “I want you to hear this guy. Nicholas Kilmain. He’s incredible, Brandon. I just know he’d be perfect for your band.” A Red-Tainted Silence

9

“But he’s ... You guys said he was gay.”

She peered up at me, her eyes conveying a seriousness I saw often in Jenny’s eyes.

“That doesn’t matter to you, though. Does it?”

My face heated. Icy prickles ran up my spine. I had to force myself to not look away.

Act cool. Stuff my hands in my pocket. “What do you mean by that?” She smiled then, a sorta sad smile, as she gripped my arm and leaned toward me. I automatically bent my head to her. “Because you are, too.” I snapped my head back and wrenched from her grasp. Missy and the other two turned and looked at me, eyes wide with curiosity. I glared at Jenny. “Fuck, Jenn. What makes you say that?”

But the persistent brat merely smiled and grabbed my hand. “Because Jenny just knows things, that’s why.”

“But --”

She pulled me close. “Stop looking so freaked out. No one else knows.”

“But I’m not --” She looked at me, her expression stern. A sudden rush of fear settled around me. “How did --” I closed my eyes, the world reeling about me. God, I hoped no one else realized I was about to have a breakdown right outside the auditorium.

“Brandon, I’m sorry,” Jenny said. She still had hold of my hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought maybe it’d be easier if you knew that I knew.” I ran my free hand over my face, fought for a casual look as the crowd began to move into the auditorium. I couldn’t say anything. My mouth was dry. I pulled my hand away from Jenny, mumbled an excuse about needing to find the bathroom, and all but ran for the nearest men’s room. I stumbled in and headed for a stall, grateful no one gave me more than a passing glance.

I banged the door shut and locked it, then sat on the toilet’s edge and buried my face in my hands. Tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes and I brushed them angrily away. How had Jenny known? What did she see when she looked at me? And why now ... dammit, why’d she have to bring it up now? I’d barely begun to acknowledge the fact myself that I might be gay. That it was guy that turned me on, not girls. It confused and sickened me, and I couldn’t stop.

How had Jenny known? Did I have “I Like Boys” written on my forehead?

I was so fucking confused.

I’m not sure how long I sat in there. The bathroom soon emptied, and I heard the first strains of intro music as it filtered through the walls. With a sigh I got up and left the stall. I imagined that Jenny was cursing me about now for overreacting and that her friends were wondering what was up.

I splashed water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror, watched the droplets fall into the sink. “Fucking fag,” I told my image just as someone walked into the bathroom.

10 Carolyn Gray

The guy eyed me in disgust, then went back out the door. I bowed my head. Great. He’d heard me.

“Can things get any worse?” I said to my mirror self, but didn’t wait for it to answer. I was afraid what that other Brandon would say.

Jenny had waited for me outside. I hesitated when I saw her, then stuffed my hands in my pockets. She looked at me, worried, her hands clasped to her chest. “Oh, Brandon, I’m so sorry. Really. I promise not to tell anyone, ever, unless you want me to.” I didn’t know what else to do, so I just nodded. She did, of course, keep that promise.

For that alone I love my cousin, even though at that moment I really wanted to strangle her.

“Where are we sitting?” I said, relieved that my voice sounded almost normal.

“I saved you a place. Come on.”

She slipped her hand into mine and squeezed. I squeezed back and let her lead me to our seats. Her friends looked at me as we took our places, but fortunately it was dark already, and they couldn’t see my flushed face. Jenny laid her head on my shoulder. I found myself smiling into the dark and squeezed her hand.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” she whispered.

“No. I’m not mad, Jenny. Just --” I shook my head. “I can’t talk about it right now, okay?”

She nodded, and the music swelled as the play began. The high school had a kick-ass drama department. It almost made me wish I’d stayed in school, though my own high school’s plays all sucked.

I found myself forgetting my troubles as I lost myself in the beauty of the timeless music. Maybe I should write music for plays, I thought. Forget the band altogether, move to Los Angeles ... That, of course, didn’t appeal. The thought of leaving Murrieta -- of leaving home -- terrified me. I wasn’t too comfortable around strangers, never had been, though when I was on stage, and playing my guitar or keyboards, I could forget about my fears.

The play was fabulous. From time to time I’d notice Jenny watching me. Once, she watched me for so long that I leaned over and whispered, “You’re not going to know what to write in your essay if you don’t stop looking at me.” She laughed. “I saw it last night,” she whispered back. “This is the last performance.