Coffee and Cigarettes – Chapter 1
By MyNameIsCAL
-Iggy's POV-
The outcast. I was the outcast. Things fell in, and somewhat out, of place after we saved the fucking world. I had pushed Nudge away, chasing after Ella, but that had ended quickly when she went to college. Maybe she finally realized how pathetic I was, always reaching for a hand to hold, never able to do anything by myself without guidance. I was like a little kid, and she couldn't care for me while she was away. She found another guy. Someone normal. And while all this happened, Nudge fell for Gazzy and not only did I lose her, but I also lost my best friend when I tried to win her back.
Life for our not so little Angel was just so effing perfect. Maybe I was jealous, but she went on to college. Out of all of us, she was the only one trying to be someone, to amount to something that mattered in the world. Although, in a way, I always felt like she was cheating. It wasn't hard for her to get into everyone's heads, reading their minds and all.
As for falling out of place, Dylan got what he wanted. He won Max, but only because Fang had to be the stupid bastard he was and leaving us all behind. Things were easy on him though. He got out while he could, and now he was living large as a goddamned famous writer. He had something like five best sellers published. The funny thing was that he scored Dylan a job as his manager. That asshole was playing around with Max's feelings. Although Dylan had Max, the way she still talked about Fang made me wonder how Fang could throw her away like that, and yet still keep her hanging on a thread, talking to her all the time, sending her autographed books for her to keep. I swore to God if Fang ever came back, it would take less than a second for Max to throw herself back at him.
But despite Max and her feelings torn between Dylan and Fang, she was still happy. All of them were happy, and I not one of them gave a shit about how I felt. I felt like I was nothing to them, just cooking the meals, sitting around the house all day, listening to Gazzy and Nudge, Dylan and Max, have each other. I had no one. Even though I was surrounded by the people who I called family, by the people I cared most about, I still felt alone.
Alone and pathetic.
It was time for dinner. I had cooked all of it, with a little help from Dylan. He was probably the only one I could bear to be around, but only because he didn't say much to me. Now that Max had finally accepted him, he tried to stay inside his boundaries.
"Hey, Iggy!"
I shuffled out of my room. "What?"
Max let out a sigh. "Will you come here for a sec?"
Grumbling in response, I made my way towards her.
"So I was talking to Fang last night," Max said.
"And he's taking a national book tour in like two weeks," Dylan added.
It was still weird hearing the two of them agreeing with each other, finishing each other's thoughts.
"And?" My impatience was growing.
"Well, he's offering to take you with him," Max replied. "Fifty stops, all around the US. He said maybe it'd be good for you to go around, visit some new places."
An offer like that from Fang surprised me. I couldn't even remember the last thing he had even said to me. It had been a long time since we had the entire flock together. Maybe Christmas of two years ago.
"You're kidding…"
"No, we're not." Dylan sounded like he was frowning. "I haven't a clue why he's going to tour to promote his book either. He could not write a single thing for ten years and still have enough money to support his lifestyle."
"How long is his tour?" I asked.
"About three months. You'll be home in time for Christmas." Of course Dylan knew all the details. "He's even offering to let you go stay with him until the tour starts. I told him that maybe you need a break from us, even if Fang isn't the one to talk."
"Maybe…maybe that'd be best then." I was agreeing for their sake. Part of me got the feeling that Max had been worrying lately about me, which made Dylan eager to set things back into order. Maybe Fang hadn't made this offer at all. Dylan was always pushing him to do this and that. Usually it was Max who stepped in to restore order between the two.
"Great." Max sounded relieved. "I'll let him know, alright?"
I nodded. Little did I know that this would end up changing the rest of my life…
Max flew with me to Fang's house. She usually checked up on him every other week in person, staying the night. I often thought things went on between them, but he hardly greeted us when we got there.
"He's usually absorbed in his writing," Max explained to me. "I just make sure everything around here is in order. It's a pretty big place, actually, and he does a good job of keeping things clean. He's got a library, a mini movie theater, an indoor pool, and a great view of the valley."
Library, movie theater, indoor pool? This sounded like a place a guy should be having a party, not locking himself up and writing all day. I didn't understand.
"Just a warning," Max added. "He doesn't do cooking himself. Usually, he gets takeout. Sometimes I have to go out and buy groceries for him. He doesn't leave much except to fly or to go to Dylan's office. Maybe you oughta cook for him or something."
I sat around with Max until dinner time. Fang emerged, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.
"I ordered some pizza," he told us gruffly. "How've you all been?"
"Alright," I heard myself answer.
And Max whisked him off into more conversation before Fang could even say anything else.
Later that night I sat up late in the kitchen. Fang had taught me how to use the coffee maker after hearing that Gazzy had accidentally broken the one Max and Dylan had. It had been a long time since I had made coffee, and to sit there in peace and sip at it was refreshing.
Max had gone to bed a while ago, but Fang was still up writing outside. I poured another mug and made my way down the hall, walking slowly to make sure I didn't spill or crash into a wall.
"Hey, you're still up?" Fang put his hand around my arm, steadying me and then guiding me into a seat.
"Well, I made some coffee, thought you could use some." I let him take the mug from me. "You're smoking now?"
I heard him crunch out the cigarette. "Don't tell, Max. I only do it out here so she won't smell it when she visits."
I tried to hide my discomfort.
"I won't smoke around you." He let out a sigh. "Sorry."
We sat for a while in silence, sipping our coffee. I was probably invading his space by being here, but part of me wondered if I should try to strike up a conversation. You would think after not seeing, or well, not being around each other for a long time that we'd have things to discuss. Fang was always the quiet one. It was usually Max who could rouse a conversation out of him, but perhaps his distance from us had only made him more introverted.
"Thanks for the coffee." He surprisingly broke the silence first.
I shrugged. "No problem."
"The one thing I miss about being around the flock is your cooking." That, perhaps, was one of the nicest things Fang had ever said to me.
"Well, it's definitely different without having you around," I managed to say.
Fang let out a breath, almost as if he was stopping himself from laughing. "How's Max been doing without me?"
"She's been alright. You know, Dylan's still trying to win her over, but she's still in love with you." I drained the last of my coffee before continuing. "She worries about you too, not as much as she did before, but it ticks Dylan off."
"Naturally," he muttered. "You should get some sleep. Max says I should take you to the grocery store and you'll cook."
He was changing the subject on purpose to avoid me asking why he left.
"Alright." It wasn't my business anyway. He had his reasons. "Goodnight."
"Night, Ig."
Max left after breakfast, which was just toast and butter. Fang retreated outside for a cigarette after she left, and then we were off to town.
He had a black sports car. That was what I could tell from touching it and hearing it anyway. It was a relief to hear that his musical tastes hadn't changed much over the years, and it also filled our silence. I still couldn't understand why he had offered to let me hang around him. It wasn't like we were best friends or something, not like we talked or anything before.
Then again, maybe he was lonely. Lonely just like me. I had only agreed to coming here because of that. Maybe Dylan or Max had suggested the idea to him. The only thing I hoped was that I wasn't bothering him.
Unlike the flock, Fang wasn't a picky eater. With Nudge, I always had to worry about making something vegetarian for her. Max also liked to keep it healthy, and quick, so that cut down a lot of things that I wanted to make. Fang told me to pick out whatever I needed to cook for the next week. It took us a good hour to gather all the food, but he was relaxed about it, which was somewhat comforting.
"Hey, you're Fang, right?"
Fang let out a sigh. "Yes, I am."
"I'm really excited about your new book!" The voice came from a man, or I guess it could have been a teenager. Hard to tell when you can't see.
"Well, thanks." It was hard to believe Fang was going to tour the United States. He already sounded disinterested that someone recognized him.
"I know you're probably busy, but I was wondering if I could get an autograph," the man said.
"Sure thing."
"Thanks so much."
"What's your name?" Fang asked.
"Jim," the man answered.
There was a scratch of pen against paper.
"Thank you again!"
"No problem."
The man walked away and Fang let out a sigh. "Shall we go pay now?"
We loaded up his car with the food without incident.
PAGE BREAK!
I sat in the kitchen feeling stupid. Fang had gone off to write, so I was left to start after we put the groceries away, but I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to cook by myself. Even at home Max or Nudge or Gazzy would help me.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I muttered.
Fang sat down next to me. "Iggy, if you needed help cooking, I would have stopped to help you."
Fang being nice? Well, it wasn't that he was never nice, it was just I wasn't used to him going out of his way.
"By the time we finish, it'll be late," I told him.
"So what? We've got all the time in the world." He stood. "What do you need me to do?"
By the time we finished, it was almost eight o'clock. He even opened a bottle of wine.
"Aren't you going to have some too?" Fang only put down one glass on the table.
He seemed to hesitate. "Uhm, no. I guess I should explain that to you."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I've been diagnosed with depression." Fang say, opening a can of soda now. "My doctor has me on some medication. Antidepressants and whatnot."
"Oh…"
"It's alright." He let out a sigh. "I just figured if I'll be spending the next few months with you that you deserved to know."
That troubled me. We could have helped Fang. He didn't have to shut us out. I wanted to ask him why he had pushed himself away from us over the years, but I got the feeling that this wasn't the appropriate time to ask, that if he wanted to tell me things, then it would all come with time.
"It's ok, really." He was filling my silence because I was too busy thinking to myself.
But before I could even say anything, the he changed the subject and started to talk about dinner, my troubled thoughts slip away as he poured me a glass of wine.
PAGE BREAK!
The RV was packed. Our first stop would be Seattle, Washington. Fang was on the phone with Dylan as we pulled out of the driveway. Dylan was telling Fang about how he would meet us in Seattle at the hotel he booked. Fang seemed irritated, only giving him one word answers.
"If you get tired, then you should stop and rest." I could hear Dylan lecturing Fang. "You have plenty of time to get there. Three days. There's no reason you won't make it in time."
"You're the one that's in a rush," Fang grumbled. "I shouldn't even be driving and talking to you at the same time."
"Alright, alright," Dylan sighed. "Look, my flight leaves out the day after tomorrow. I'll see you soon. And do me a favor and call Max when you stop for the night."
"Okay." Fang hung up.
We didn't talk much for the first twenty-four hours of the trip. I had slept on the couch, leaving the bed to Fang since Dylan had forgotten to reserve a RV with bunks, but Fang had managed to stay up, running on coffee I had been making for him and cigarettes. Finally, on the edge of the border of Washington State, he found a camp to park the RV at, and we stopped to get some food.
After we finished our food, I heard him unscrew something.
"It's my medication," he informed me.
I started to gather the garbage, stuffing it into a plastic bag, occupying myself so I wouldn't have to respond.
"I think I owe you more of an explanation." He took the bag from me. "It's not fair to you if I drag you around with me for three months and don't say a word to you about anything."
"You know, I'm just glad to have a chance to do something different," I said lamely.
He let out a sigh. "I left because I didn't want to hurt Max. I didn't want to hurt any of you either. You could say I'm a coward too, but that's beside the point."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm gay, Iggy."
"Wh—What?"
He repeated himself.
"You left because of that?" Somehow his confession didn't faze me. It was the idea that he had run from us instead of opening up. We wouldn't have pushed him away. After all we had been through together, the last thing that ever crossed my mind would be to kick him down just because of how he felt.
"Well, yes. You're not…" He paused. "It doesn't bother you?"
"It bothers me that you think we'd disown you or something," I replied. "That shouldn't change how much we care about you, not after we've had each other's backs for all those years."
"But you were all happy, and if I stuck around even if I told you all, Max would never get over it." His voice quavered. "And Dylan's better for Max, but she'd never see that if I was still around. I don't love her the way she loves me. I couldn't force myself to be in a relationship with her. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I didn't want to tear the flock apart."
I used to be jealous of Fang. Even when he left because he became so successful in his writing, but now I understood why he was so pained. Even with all of us around, he still felt lonely. Even if Max had moved on and accepted Dylan, he still wouldn't be able to watch us all be happy when he wasn't. It was at that moment that I realized Fang and I had a lot more in common than we thought. I had grown sick of being around people who were content with their lives. We were waiting for our happy endings after the mess we had fought our way through, yet God still seemed to think it was funny to watch us struggle still. It didn't seem fair.
"I'm tired of being unhappy though," Fang continued. "And Max talked about how upset you had been, well it reminded me of me. I guess I thought if I could make you a little happier that it'd make me feel better. I know I'm not the best company either, but there was no way I was going to make it cross country in an RV with Dylan and back. And I guess I'm hoping that maybe I'll find a way to sort myself out after seeing some new scenery. Maybe I'll find a person who understands me, someone I can fall stupidly in love with, someone who I can promise that I'll never let them go, ever."
That had to be the most Fang had ever said to me. I suddenly felt stupid for feeling so unhappy before. Fang had isolated himself because of his unhappiness. He probably thought I was a fool to not be happy with Max and the others taking care of me, that I wasn't hiding some big secret that I thought might bring the walls of our lives plummeting down.
"I'm sorry, Fang," were the words that slipped from my mouth.
"Don't be," he said, almost sounding un-Fanglike. "It's not your fault."
And yet I still couldn't shake the feeling there was still something else he hadn't said.