Back to the Start

“Remember Pat.”, I say sternly. “You’re our driver. No alcohol for you.”

“We like to party! We like, we like to party!”, the boys start chanting as the club comes into view.
Dirk and I start laughing at Sam’s confused face. “Ok. Someone needs to explain these things to me.”, she says. “I met you people like, less than a week ago. And honestly, I never have any clue what you guys are talking about.”

I open my mouth to explain, but Jared parked the car. “Let’s go!”, says John.

Shrugging at Sam, I say, “It’s just something they do. At least it keeps life amusing.”

By the time we push our way to the bar, John had already downed a few shots and is surround by girls. As I’m grabbing a drink, John calls out, already slurring, “Why’d you tell Gare to go to New York and make up with Falyn?” I wouldn’t have guessed you to be like that.”

Why is he doing this? Foregoing my drink, I grab a shot instead. I need to be drunk for this. After downing a few, I turn to John. My head is already feeling disoriented. “I didn’t tell him to. I said something. Don’t remember what. Something about flying. He took it to heart.”

“Well, why didn’t you stop him Rachael? We all know you wanted to. And probably could have too.”

“You said it yourself. He’s happy now. Why should I stop him? ‘Scuse me, if you don’t mind, I think there are drinks calling my name.”

Turning around, I practically run into Pat. “Woah Rach.”, he cautions, steadying me by my shoulders. “You’re giving John a run for his money, aren’t you? It’s been like, ten minutes.”

“More like the other way around.”, I slur. “Why is he so mean to me now? He used to be so nice.” I pout. “I need another drink.”

“Ok. Come with me.”, Pat says smoothly. “We’ll get you some fresh air, and then see if you still want another drink.”

Numbly, I follow Pat outside. He ushers me back to their old van. The last time I saw it, so many years ago, it was covered in notes and drawings from the fans. Now though, it’s painted black. But it’s definitely the same ban. Sitting me down on a seat, and plopping down next to me, he asks, “What did John say? You and Gare are still so alike. And I know Gare wouldn’t drink this much at once unless he was super upset about something. Hell. I expected him to come out tonight and get drunk with us due to his fight with Fay.”

Dropping my head into my hands, I shake my head. “I don’t know. Something about why’d I tell Gare to go to New York. He said that he wouldn’t have expected that from me. What does that even mean?!”

Pat looks at me. Why do they keep doing that? All of the guys. They just…look at me with…that look! “Why?”, I ask, agitated. “All of you have been giving me these looks. Like, you’re trying to, I dunno, figure me out or something. Stop! I’m not a puzzle And I don’t get what you guys are trying to even figure out by just staring at me! Why don’t you ASK?”

“John is right, you know?”

“What? What is John right about? All of you, Sam included, keep saying these riddly sounding things to me. What do they mean?!”

“It’s something you need to either figure out and deal with or get over on your own Rach. We can’t be the ones to tell you.”

“That’s what Sam said too.”, leaning my head on Pat’s shoulder. “When did you and Gare grow up? The other guys…they seem the same. But the two of you. You’re still the same I guess. But you also grew up.”

“A little bit I guess. But want to hear one of my best kept secrets?”

“Oh god Pat. This better be good.”

Whispering in a conspiring tone, “Ratboy…isn’t actually dead.”

Before he can tuck his hair behind his ears, I grab his hands. “Oh no you don’t Pat!”, I say while trying to hold back my laughter. And we start catching up, talking about our lives. I told him about my classes at ASU and my initial indecision in what I wanted to major in. He told me more about touring. And music. Some of which I already knew, some that I didn’t, not that I would tell him that. We just have been talking for hours, until my head stopped hurting and I didn’t feel disoriented anymore.

Suddenly, I remember a question I had asked earlier. “Pat. You never answered my question from before.”

He was saying something about their next album or EP or tour or something when I interrupted. “What question?”

“Why is John so mean to me now? I mean, the rest of you guys are fine. Even Gare. And you. You saved me from a really bad hangover tomorrow. Thanks for that, by the way. But John. He is actually a jerk to me.”

Pat looks uncomfortable now. “I guess it’s because he was the one who saw you and…uhm…you know. And he feels protective of Garret and such…”, trailing off as he looks up at me. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to know why someone is being a dick to me! Does there really have to be a reason for that?”

“I guess not.” Glancing at his phone, he asks, “Want to check on everyone else now? I need to make sure John isn’t passed out somewhere yet.”

“Yea. I should check on Sam. Let’s go.”