Pleasure of the Pain

He’d been awake for a few days now. I hadn’t been there when he woke up. In fact I was still working everything out in my head in that waiting room. About Laurence, Shane, Drew and Luke even. Mostly myself, and how much I really did know about Laurence, and how much I thought I knew.

I was sitting on the chair now, watching him fiddle with the wristband with his name on and his ward number. It looked so big and loose against his bony wrist, but he tugged at it like he was unhappy about how it fit around his wrist.

“Stop it” I muttered, placing a hand on his to stop him. I wish I didn’t, his knuckles felt like daggers. “It doesn’t fit as it is. That isn’t for a second because it’s too small on you, Laur...Are you listening?” He nodded, without looking at me. “It’s too big. You’ve lost too much weight, you worried us all. We thought it would be like-”

“I know” his raspy voice interrupted. I was surprised such a quiet voice could interrupt me. I was also surprised because he hadn’t spoken all day.

“Laurence, at least eat a little. Apples have no calories” I tried to make him feel better by stating how healthy an apple is. I held up apple, giving him a pleading smile.

“Kier, I’m not hungry” he whispered. I sighed irritably.

“Laurence, your voice says otherwise” I said firmly “now eat or I’ll force it down your goddamn throat” He hadn’t been able to keep anything down yet, but the nurse said even if he didn’t throw everything up, his body will keep the things it needs, so it’s important he at least has a little. Especially as if he stays a week off the drip and is eating, he can come back home.

He sighed, and much to my pleasure started to nibble on the skin. He only ate a little, and drew the apple away slowly. With lighting movement from experience I moved the small bowl to him just as he started to cough it up again. The problem was it was painful for him, as he didn’t have that much to get out in the first place.

“Hey, you did great” I put the bowl back on the floor. It was hardly touched anyway.

“Hardly” he muttered weakly, before closing his eyes.

“Oi, if Kemp says you did great, you did great” I told him. He smiled before falling asleep.

Drew stood by the doorway, watching. I wasn’t sure how long he had been there. He stepped in, shaking his head.

“At least he’s actually trying” he sighed, sitting down next to me. “About the other day, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that-”

“No, you were telling the truth. I was just trying to sugar coat everything.” I told him. “I was believing what I wanted, not what was actually true. You made me realise that.”

“How long do you think it’ll take for him to get off the drip?” Drew asked me.

“I’m not sure. He’s trying, so hopefully a week” I explained.

“Yeah” He sighed. His eyes looked troubled, but I didn’t question it. A lot has happened in these past months (more than I’ve liked) and I didn’t want to make it worse by upsetting someone.

“If Laurence asks, I’m going back to our house. I can’t imagine the state it’s in at the moment” I told him. It was only an hours drive, and if anything happens I can drive back.

  Once I had gotten there, the first thing I noticed was that the door was jammed. After five minutes of throwing my body weight against it I gave up, turning to see someone staring at me funny. "Always does that" I mumbled, and they carried on walking.

I tried once more, not wanting a door to beat me. It opened. There wasn't that much post either, it's just the door had gotten stuck again. I walked through the deserted hall, my feet creaking on the floorboards. It was strange, as there was no bangs from Luke drumming upstairs, or drew yelling at the TV, Laurence singing whilst he was writing or Shane's guitar. Not even the sound of the kettle. Talking of kettles, I'd need to bring that. The hotel didn't have one and so we've been waiting half an hour every day to boil some water in a pan and the hospitals coffee tastes like the waters been taken from the sink they've recently washed their filthy plates and cups in.

  I then walked slowly up the stairs. The bathroom had long been cleaned out, but I could still see what I saw that night. I carried on walking, towards Laurence's room. Even if I hadn't lived here, I knew it was his with papers containing plans for stories everywhere, lyrics everywhere. Even that panda toy we obsessed over was slouching on his desk. I picked it up and put it in the carrier bag I collected from the kitchen which also contained the kettle. I put his book he was currently reading in there too, causing the bag to start to tear. I put it on the ground and took Laurence's bag and put them in there instead. I then turned to his laptop, surprisingly it still had charge and was still on. I sat down and opened the lid, he'd written something:

*From Laurence's POV*

  It was August the first when I found out about Barrone. I was about to do that again, and was making my way to the bathroom. I didn't realise anyone was in it, and so I walked in. It was a huge mistake, because before I could see what was going on, Barrone had slammed the door shut again, looking from his wrist, to the blade dropped in the sink, to me, his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't figure out what.

"Barrone what are you doing?" I asked. He didn't say anything, he just bit his lip and looked at the floor. We both did for a second, watching the blood drip onto the tiles.

"I'm sorry" he whispered. I said nothing and made him sit down on the side of the bath and started to dab it with a tissue. He watched my face, I could tell, as if he was trying to read what I was thinking of him.

"Why?" I finally asked, grabbing the first aid box we usually take on tour-just incase-from the top of the cabinet above the sink.

"I...Well, it wasn't enough" he mumbled, looking like a child that had been caught doing something bad.

"What wasn't?" I asked.

"Snapping guitar strings" he looked back up at me. "It didn't hurt anymore"

I started to bandage his wrist, trying to do it as gently as I could, although it made him flinch anyway.

"But why do you hurt yourself?" I asked him again.

"I imagine the bloods the stress" he explained. I tied a small knot and looked him in the eye.

"You've got to stop" I told him.

"You can talk" he muttered. I was taken aback by that, shocked that he knew. He looked me back in the eye again, a bit more confident once realising he had cornered me. I shuffled nervously.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"My rooms right next to the bathroom, and these walls aren't soundproof. That much coughing isn't what I'd think as normal" he explained. His voice was still timid, but it was no longer a small whisper.
"You look frail, too" we sat in silence for a while.

"Aren't you going to tell me to stop too?" I asked.

"I can't say that when I do what I do" he mumbled. He stood up. "Thanks, Laurence."
Then he walked out.

  After that, me and Barrone had gotten a lot closer. We understood each other more and respected each other for it. We both didn't want the other to continue, but didn't want to stop ourselves, which is probably why we never helped each other. It's probably why he ended up on the floor, instead of back on the stage like he should have done. I’m so useless, I should have stopped him. I’m surprised the rest haven’t kicked me out yet.

*End of Laurence's POV*

  I closed the lid, deciding to leave the laptop here. I was speechless. How did... They both knew about each other, yet they left each other.

  I went to Barrones room after that. Tidy and clean, after me and Drew sorted it out. Nothing after that was moved, his sketchbook was still on his desk next to his goggles, now covered in real dust instead of what we use on purpose. His bullet belt still hung from a hook on his wall. It upset me, knowing he'd never be able to wear it again.

  I flicked through his sketchbook. It contained a few album designs and a few drawings of us. As I was turning the pages carefully, a piece of paper slipped out. I opened it, the scrawled handwriting littered the page, a few smudges in the ink from where he had been crying.

*Barrone's POV*

  I'm so sorry, I really am for doing this. I can't help it I just...I feel as though I'm bringing you all down. I can't handle the thoughts of me letting the band down. What if I made a mistake and everyone hated us? I can't bare it anymore. I just want to go. I can't take it anymore. You guys will do better without me anyway. It's only a matter of time before our future fails to unfold, and there's nothing special about me anyway, so that's why I'm doing this. And I know, that Laurence wrote bleed till sunrise about me. I know he did, even if he covered it up with the Grandomina stuff. Laurence, you can't save me, the flow will just keep coming until I make it stop. And I'll make it stop now.

  I can hear Drew shouting at Luke again, telling him to turn Metallica off and put some real music on, like weezer. I'm sorry Drew, you can always find someone else to talk to, I never said anything anyway so I can't have been that much of a help. Luke, I hated driving. I despised it, thinking any moment we'd crash and I'd kill you all, but I did it because no one else would. Kier, I think you should know that Laurence needs help. You should talk to him before it gets too bad. I don't want him to end up like me.

I'm so sorry about everything.

Shane.

*End of Barrone's POV*

  I had to sit down halfway through. Now I couldn't move. I just stared at the messy writing that had scrawled out Shane, my fingers tracing over the marks that had used to be wet with tears. I sat and tried to think it through, but what was there to think? They both explained everything. But one things for sure, I will talk to Laurence before it gets that bad again.

  My phone started to ring so I picked it up, seeing Drew was trying to call me.

"Yeah?" I answered quickly, "how's Laurence?"

"Fine, he's fine...I guess" Drew trailed off.

"Drew what happened?" I asked.

"One of his machines stopped working, but they realised he could cope without it. He's not on it anymore but he's being kept a close eye on" he answered. "Anyway, that's not why I called you. The doctors said that he will be back at home within a week if he continues to improve, just he needs to eat solid food first."

I couldn't wait for this week to be over.