I should tell him how old that shit is, but I don’t know how long he’s been eating it. May be too late anyway.
“Could have called.” I’m not trying to be an ass, but even Derek has seen fit to steer clear for the last few days, I was kind of hoping he’d spread the word and let everyone else know I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.
“Tried that. Your voicemail’s full.” He looks up from his bag. “I take it you’re not using your usual means of escape and fucking your way through this one? What with all those unanswered booty calls clogging up your inbox.”
I want to throw up. Because that’s exactly the means I used to escape. Only I didn’t fuck some meaningless chick I barely know. I slept with Bam Bam. A girl I’ve known for a decade. A girl I care about. A lot.
“You look like you’re about to hurl.” Royce and his matter of fact observations are usually less annoying. Today they make me want to punch something.
“I’m probably sick. You better go before you catch it.”
But he just shakes his head as he slides down from the barstool he’s been sitting in to go and toss the trail mix in the trash. “Pretty sure what you have isn’t contagious, bro.”
I close my eyes and I let out my frustrations with the longest exhale in history. I suddenly get why he’s here. And it’s not some random check to make sure I’m still breathing. Royce is more specific than that. More insightful. And he’s about to lay some shit on me. Shit I’m probably not ready to hear, but need to.
“Fuck, man. Just do it. Get it over with. Rip that fucking band aid off so I can go back to bed.”
Royce smirks. “You think I’m here to impart some sort of wisdom on you? Share some deeply meaningful shit that will give you a whole new perspective on your fucked up life?” He starts walking out of the kitchen in and into the living room and I follow him.
“Aren’t you?”
He shrugs. “Depends. You want some?”
“Are you going to leave if I say no?”
He tips his head to the side and makes a face. “I think we both know that’s unlikely.”
“Then yes. Yes, I want some fucking advice.”
He drops down into my sofa. The one Addy picked out. The one I found her sleeping on the night I was arrested. And I kinda want to tell him to get up and sit somewhere else. But I don’t. I just stand here, staring at him, arms crossed over my chest.
“Fine. I don’t think you’re really ready for it, but I’m gonna lay it on you anyway because we’re running out of fucking time. We’re due back in the studio in less than a week, and we won’t produce shit worth listening to if you don’t pull your head out of your ass and get back in the game before then.”
I clench my jaw to keep from answering. If I say anything, it’ll just let him know that I forgot we were recording next week. I mean, I knew it was out there. I just sort of lost track of time here by myself.
“You gonna sit down? Because I’m gonna be a minute.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. Just say what you have to say.”
He sighs. “Alright, dude. Here goes. Your dad’s a piece of shit. I know this. You know this. We all know this. You , are not.”
I start to speak and then realize I can’t tell him what I want to say.
“What?”
“You don’t know, Royce. You don’t know all there is to know...”
He gets to his feet and stares me square in the eyes. “Yeah, I do. I’ve known you nearly half my life. You’re like a brother to me. And you’re one of the best men I know. So, whatever you’ve done. Or, whoever you’ve done...it doesn’t change anything. I know you’re not a rapist or a pedophile.”
“Of course I’m not a fucking rapist or a pedophile!”
Royce still won’t look away. “Moe is. He’s both.”
“No shit. Why do you think I hate sharing his fucking DNA?”
He shrugs. “Beats me. Pretty sure neither is genetic.” He reaches up and places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “Hate
“Could have called.” I’m not trying to be an ass, but even Derek has seen fit to steer clear for the last few days, I was kind of hoping he’d spread the word and let everyone else know I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.
“Tried that. Your voicemail’s full.” He looks up from his bag. “I take it you’re not using your usual means of escape and fucking your way through this one? What with all those unanswered booty calls clogging up your inbox.”
I want to throw up. Because that’s exactly the means I used to escape. Only I didn’t fuck some meaningless chick I barely know. I slept with Bam Bam. A girl I’ve known for a decade. A girl I care about. A lot.
“You look like you’re about to hurl.” Royce and his matter of fact observations are usually less annoying. Today they make me want to punch something.
“I’m probably sick. You better go before you catch it.”
But he just shakes his head as he slides down from the barstool he’s been sitting in to go and toss the trail mix in the trash. “Pretty sure what you have isn’t contagious, bro.”
I close my eyes and I let out my frustrations with the longest exhale in history. I suddenly get why he’s here. And it’s not some random check to make sure I’m still breathing. Royce is more specific than that. More insightful. And he’s about to lay some shit on me. Shit I’m probably not ready to hear, but need to.
“Fuck, man. Just do it. Get it over with. Rip that fucking band aid off so I can go back to bed.”
Royce smirks. “You think I’m here to impart some sort of wisdom on you? Share some deeply meaningful shit that will give you a whole new perspective on your fucked up life?” He starts walking out of the kitchen in and into the living room and I follow him.
“Aren’t you?”
He shrugs. “Depends. You want some?”
“Are you going to leave if I say no?”
He tips his head to the side and makes a face. “I think we both know that’s unlikely.”
“Then yes. Yes, I want some fucking advice.”
He drops down into my sofa. The one Addy picked out. The one I found her sleeping on the night I was arrested. And I kinda want to tell him to get up and sit somewhere else. But I don’t. I just stand here, staring at him, arms crossed over my chest.
“Fine. I don’t think you’re really ready for it, but I’m gonna lay it on you anyway because we’re running out of fucking time. We’re due back in the studio in less than a week, and we won’t produce shit worth listening to if you don’t pull your head out of your ass and get back in the game before then.”
I clench my jaw to keep from answering. If I say anything, it’ll just let him know that I forgot we were recording next week. I mean, I knew it was out there. I just sort of lost track of time here by myself.
“You gonna sit down? Because I’m gonna be a minute.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. Just say what you have to say.”
He sighs. “Alright, dude. Here goes. Your dad’s a piece of shit. I know this. You know this. We all know this. You , are not.”
I start to speak and then realize I can’t tell him what I want to say.
“What?”
“You don’t know, Royce. You don’t know all there is to know...”
He gets to his feet and stares me square in the eyes. “Yeah, I do. I’ve known you nearly half my life. You’re like a brother to me. And you’re one of the best men I know. So, whatever you’ve done. Or, whoever you’ve done...it doesn’t change anything. I know you’re not a rapist or a pedophile.”
“Of course I’m not a fucking rapist or a pedophile!”
Royce still won’t look away. “Moe is. He’s both.”
“No shit. Why do you think I hate sharing his fucking DNA?”
He shrugs. “Beats me. Pretty sure neither is genetic.” He reaches up and places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “Hate
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