The Softer Side of Unbearable

Bailey sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the images flickering across the television screen. Matt was gone, trying to hunt down Angel, who was still MIA. Bailey felt useless, but she also didn't feel prepared to go with him. In all honesty, she was far too frightened of what she might find. Instead, she had dug out some of the videos that Spencer had recorded on one of their early tours.

Bailey shook the can of spray paint vigorously, then wrote her band's name across the back of their white cargo trailer in messy scrawl. "Whoa," she said, stepping back to look at her handiwork. "I'm getting lightheaded. I think I've been at this for too long."

"Well, there's only about two inches of free space left," Angel laughed. "You might as well finish it off."

"No thanks to you guys," Bailey scoffed.

"We just don't want to look like we're involved when the cops show up and think that you're destroying someone's property," Jeff said.

"Yet you're perfectly fine with videotaping it for evidence? It doesn't matter anyways. I own this trailer. I can do whatever the hell I want with it."

The camera zoomed in on a bad charicature that Bailey had drawn of Jeff on the door of the trailer, and the picture cut off. When an image refocused, Bailey and Angel were sitting on speakers backstage at a show. Bailey was sipping from a paper Starbucks cup, laughing about something that was missed on the video.

"One thing is for sure," Angel commented. "Nobody will ever have to guess who owns that trailer now. Buying you spray paint for your birthday was the best decision I've ever made."

Bailey shrugged lightly, still grinning widely. "What can I say? You tried to make a joke, so I had to make an even bigger one."

Colin, the band's manager, came rushing in, out of breath. "Guys, something happened," he gasped, panting for air.

"What is it?" All humor was wiped clean from Bailey's face as she stood up. "Where's Jeff? Is everyone okay?"

"Someone really hates you guys," Colin doubled over, planting his hands on his knees as he gathered his breath. "They vandalized your trailer. It's been destroyed. I just... I've never seen someone do that. What did you do to piss someone off that bad?"

It was quiet for a long moment. Angel was looking at Bailey, waiting expectantly for a reaction. Finally, Bailey let out a gasp that was so loud that it couldn't have been real.

"What?" She nearly yelled. "Who would-"

She was interrupted by Angel's giddy laughter. Soon, Bailey joined her. The two girls giggled until they could no longer breathe. Colin watched, dumbfounded.

"What are you laughing about?"

Bailey wiped her eyes, still laughing. "Damn it, Angel, I almost pulled that off!"

"No you didn't. You can't honestly think that you were believable!" She plastered a fake, shocked expression on her face as she mocked her friend. Then she fell into a fit of laughter once more. "You looked like a deer in headlights!"

"What the hell is so funny?" Colin demanded.

"I did it!" Bailey said. "Angel gave me spray paint and I was bored. And the trailer was just so... white. I needed to change that."

Colin shook his head and sighed, clearly not impressed with Bailey's art project. "I could have managed any band, why did I have to choose this one?"

"It's not easy loving me, is it Colin?" Bailey smirked.

"You don't know the half of it."

Spencer laughed from somewhere off screen, presumably behind the camera. "I feel your pain."

The picture cut out and was replaced with a shaky image of Bailey onstage. It was mid-song, and the crowd seemed to be loving it. When the music faded out, Bailey grabbed her microphone and smiled.

"You guys are amazing. In fact, you are such a great crowd that I have a mission for all of you. Today I gave our cargo trailer a makeover. You really can't miss it when you go outside. Anyways, our manager thinks that I ruined it, and he wants to repaint it. So after the show tonight, we'll be out there with our spray paint. If you guys are up for it, come out and join us. Make me a piece of portable fan art that I can take with me across the country. Everywhere we go, people will see it and know that Antagonist Theory has the greatest fans in the whole fucking world!" The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, and Bailey was overcome with a goofy grin. "Hey, when you're done with the trailer, you can help me paint the van to look like the Mystery Machine. Damn, that sounds like a way cooler band name than the one that we picked. Do you think we would get sued if we changed it?"

Bailey flicked off the TV and dropped the remote onto a mound of blankets. The memory made her smile. The trailer was now being stored in Jeff's garage, but it was still covered in the fan graffiti from that night. She was always noticing new words or pictures that she had missed before, and the trailer was one of her most prized possessions. She knew that one of the other discs had footage of her and the fans repainting the whole thing under the pale streetlights later that night.

She picked up a stack of discs and began flipping through them. Most were labeled simply, with dates or keywords to remind Spencer what each one contained. Bailey paused when she came across one that simply read, Edited. She opened the slim case and picked up the disc. She stared at it for a long moment. Spencer had never told her that he had started editing. She wondered suddenly just how much had been finished on his laptop. It didn't matter; his parents had taken all of his more expensive stuff. Aside from the things that Bailey had given him, of course.

She got up from her nest of blankets and popped the disc into the DVD player. She rushed back to the bed and hit the play button.

The screen was black, and suddenly there was a picture of the band from the photo shoot they'd done for their second album. The title beneath it read: Antagonist Theory: Wallflowers in the Spotlight.

There was a short clip of them doing an interview for a music station on TV. Bailey was smiling as she brought the microphone to her mouth.

"You know, I always kind of felt like we were the underdogs. Not even just in music, but in our lives. We weren't the kids that everyone loved in high school, but we weren't the kids that everyone hated, either. We just existed. We had never even met, and we're all completely different, but yet we all have that in common. If we had all known each other back then, we could have taken over the world by now!"

The scene faded smoothly to a clip of Jeff biting into a donut so fiercely that the jelly innards squirted out onto his lap. "Aw, damn it!" He groaned, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the red glob. The scene froze, and Jeff's name appeared in bold letters across the image. From there, it showed various clips of the girls talking about Jeff. It was like a mini-character biography, though it only showed what his band mates thought of him.

Angel came next. Her opening scene was her beating her drumsticks against the back of a seat in the van, while belting out the lyrics to Bad Reputation by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Bailey appeared suddenly, walking through the aisles of a record store.

"The thing about Angel is, she's small but deadly. But she'll do anything for you. I know a lot of people that think that you have to love her or hate her, and that's probably true. Unless you're Jeff. They fight like cats and dogs, but at the end of the day they're best friends. Don't tell her this," she said as she paused to pick up a CD, "but I actually don't mind having to split up their fights. It doesn't actually happen as much as we make it seem; we all really are very close. But when we're at each other's throats and we're on the verge of killing each other, we always make the effort to make up and make things right. I mean, that's what families do, right?"

Bailey hit pause and let the sudden silence envelop her. Her sluggish mind was working, and her stomach was in a sickening knot. This video wasn't really that old. Her own words suddenly haunted her. After sitting still for a moment, she scrambled from the mattress and punched numbers into her phone.

"Bailey?" Matt answered, sounding alarmed. "Is everything okay?"

"I've changed my mind. I want to help. I want to find her."

"Are you sure?"

"She's my family," Bailey continued. "I've already lost too much this year. First Spencer, then the band... I just know that one day I'll look back and hate myself if I give up on her right now."

"You're probably right. I'm on my way to her mom's house right now; I got her number from Jeff over the phone earlier. Do you want me to come pick you up and bring you with me?"

"If you aren't too far away. It might make things easier on them if they aren't confronted by a stranger."

"Alright. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Be ready."

Bailey scoffed. "I don't think I can ever be totally ready, Matt."

"Bailey, you know that even if we find her-"

"I know. She might never be the same. Even if she's alive, she might not want anything to do with me. I'll face those hurdles when they appear."

He showed up at her building within half an hour, and she hurried to jump into his truck. Matt looked tired; his brown eyes were heavy. He had been doing this for too long. Bailey looked over at him in concern.

"Take a nap, Matt. I'll drive to Angel's family's place."

He shook his head. "No, I'm okay. I swear."

"If you fall asleep and crash, I'll be very upset."

Matt smiled over at her. "Maybe you should sleep. You were up all night, weren't you?"

She shrugged, trying to look calm and nonchalant. "I was watching the videos that Spencer took. It doesn't hurt me so much anymore to see him. It kind of made me happy to hear his voice."

Matt reached over and patted her knee gently. "Good. I'm proud of you, Bailey. I never expected you to want to go and look for her."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Bailey had only met Angel's parents a few times, and she had never been to their house. She remembered them as being polite and happy people, but she didn't know what to expect under the circumstances they were now facing. She looked at the address that Matt had written down, and when they reached the house she felt her breathing restrict slightly. It was a simple house with white siding and a large bay window facing the street. There was nothing special about it, but Bailey knew that she was going to have a hard time being inside of its walls. Matt opened his door first, and Bailey soon followed. They approached the front door together.

Once Matt rang the doorbell, they waited patiently together. The door creaked open and Angel's mother appeared, looking haggard. She had greying hair instead of her original black, but it was cut short. Her figure was tiny in every sense of the word, and her eyes held a kind of commanding power. She resembled Angel so strongly that it took Bailey a moment to work up the courage to speak.

"Hello, I don't know if you remember me, but-"

"Of course I remember you, Bailey," Mrs. Corbett cut her off. "You're in my daughter's band; you're her best friend. I have one of your band photos framed on my wall. I couldn't forget you, dear. Come inside; I'm pretty sure that I know what this is about."

Bailey stepped inside, then paused. "This is Matt."

The older woman nodded at Matt and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. How do you know Angel?"

"I play in a band, and we hang out with Angel, Bailey and Jeff all the time. Well, we used to. Now it's mostly me that hangs around."

"He's my boyfriend," Bailey explained.

"Oh, I see. Have you talked to her since she left rehab?"

Bailey raised her eyebrows, then tried to conceal her surprise. "No. That's kind of why we came here. We thought that maybe she had come home to see you."

Mrs. Corbett looked equally confused. "Home? No, she hasn't come around here in quite a long time, I'm afraid. I thought you had spoken to Jeff before you came all the way out here."

Bailey glanced back and forth between Matt and Angel's mother. "Uh, Matt did. That was how he got ahold of you. What does Jeff know that we don't?"

Matt shook his head, bewildered. "He didn't tell me anything else."

Mrs. Corbett gaped at both of her guests. "He didn't? Angel called me last night. From Jeff's house. She's been staying there ever since she left rehab."