Fragile

We had back at our place for a few hours now, it was nearing on eight and Jake and Jordan went to bed half an hour ago. I actually found it funny that they were going to bed so early, I am surprised at how well Brian copes with them. I was sat on the three seated couch, well more like laying down, Brian and the devil claimed the love seat while Michelle span lazily in the spinney chair thing, that I thought was totally cool at the time of buying it, it was like an office chair, but in sofa form.

“So, Denim, where’d you grow up?” I asked, trying to make friendly conversation.

“Well, I was born in Chicago, but my dad had to move here for work when I was nine, that’s why I’m here,” she said with a shy smile.

“Duh,” Michelle said under her breath. I contained a giggle and looked at Brian who was sat watching the TV, his arm slung loosely over Demin’s shoulders. When I was with him his arm wasn’t as lazy as that.

“Brian, I think we should get the band back together,” I said happily,

“That’s nice,” he said, his eyes still stuck to the TV. My smile faltered slightly at the lack of interest he was showing towards me.

He was treating me like some muck off the bottom of his shoe. I wasn’t going to stand for it, even if you forget about us dating, we were still best friends, now he just acts like I am some strange person that followed him in off the street.

“Right, I am so not going to stay single, Michelle, tomorrow me and you are gonna find me someone,” I said, the comment sounding more girly than intended. Michelle nodded and winked sarcastically, without anyone noticing. I saw Brian’s eyes dip slightly from the TV and the expression on his face pained slightly. I felt bad as I could almost hear, let alone see, the tears well up in his eyes. He breathed in deeply and huffed out again, regaining his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude.

I wasn’t really going out to find anyone, I wouldn’t know where to start, go up to a girl and introduce yourself as that freaky hermaphrodite person off the documentary channels, I don’t think so.

“What way do you swing now, Zack?” Denim asked me in a cold, harsh voice.

“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing too well what she meant, I just wanted the explanation.

“Well, you were straight all your life, then you suddenly hooked up with Brian, which I find totally weird, now you either like men or women, which is it?”

“Well, if all the women are like you then I most definitely like men more, I just don’t find the whole fake boobs and fake hair thing attractive, you also wear far too much fucking make up because your skins fucking terrible,” I said. Michelle laughed from her spot on the chair, making me giggle slightly.

“Its just going through a bad patch, it always goes like this in the autumn,” she said, pressing her fingers to her cheek. Its not even fall yet, well its only September.

“Yeah, sure, did you know that my hair naturally changes colour?” I asked sarcastically, mocking fake shock, the tone of my voice patronising and sharp.

“You know what, Zack, shut the fuck up, grow up and stop causing arguments, we all had to because of you, we don’t give a shit about that stuff anymore, its just you. Just because you’ve been in a coma for over six years doesn’t mean you can come and fuck everything up,” Brian snapped. I looked at him, desperately wanting to say something, but I couldn’t. I saw his face suddenly flush with guilt and regret.

My eyes brimmed with tears as I stood up and made my way upstairs. I walked into my bedroom, which was positioned above the living room, so I could hear everything.

“Well done, look what you’ve done now,” I heard Michelle snap.

“Its not my fault, he needs to stop acting so immature!”

“Well maybe if you wasn’t with miss jeans here you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“How is that my fault, do you think I wanted any of this, him being in a coma and me having o deal with two boys, when I have never done anything more than baby sit an eight year old before, and that was back when I was fifteen. Do you think that maybe I struggled?”

“We all fucking know you struggled, you were fucking depressed for a year, you locked yourself away in here, do you really think we would forget that?” I didn’t understand, Brian wasn’t depressed was he? Why did he lock himself away? I had also noticed that Denim was keeping quiet.

“Shut the fuck up with that. You try being told you fiancé may never wake up, you try lying in bed at night thinking about what he would want written on his head stone. You try having nightmare after nightmare of his funeral.”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I didn’t want to know the rest. I reached over for the phone and put in on the bed before undressing down to my boxers. I climbed into bed and dialled the unknown number that was neatly printed on a small, credit card sized piece of laminate.

“Hello,” I heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey Johnny,” I said

“Zacky?”

“Yeah, its me,” I sighed.

“What are you doing phoning me?”

“I don’t know, I was just downstairs and Michelle is here and I sort of had a slight go at that Denim about being fake and Brian told me to ‘shut the fuck up and grow up’ and then I went upstairs now they are having an argument and Brian’s going on about my fucking grave and funerals. I don’t know what to do,” I said quickly, the tears freeing themselves.

“Calm down, just ignore Brian, he doesn’t know what he is talking about. We all know he loves you Zee, there is no doubting that, -”

“Does he? Sometimes I actually regret telling you that day. Well not telling you but getting together with Brian, if I didn’t do that then everything would be back to normal.”

“No, it wouldn’t, you know you did the right thing and you know it, and you are growing up, look, you don’t smoke anymore, you refrain from swearing, drinking isn’t regular, you have totally changed.”

“Your not swearing either.”

“That’s because Harry is sat by me and he is going though that whole repeating words thing, he’s like a parrot or something.”

“Oh,” I laughed, forgetting that he was now in ‘Daddy mode’ too. Boy I feel sorry for that kid if he has his height.

We continued talking about the same subject before I heard a slight knock at the door. I told Johnny that I had to go and hung up.

“What?” I said bluntly.

The door creaked open and the person behind walked in,

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” I said to Brian as he swayed in the doorway,

“Let me just tell you that I’m sorry, what I said was out of line.”

“I don’t care, your life is obviously a hell of a lot worse than mine at the moment so I’m just gonna ignore you and leave you too it,” I said sarcastically.

“Fine then, I’ll fucking leave!” he growled slamming the door.