Walking into practice the next day, I wasn't sure quite what to expect. I wished that the circumstances were different. I wished that I hadn't felt used and destroyed. I wished that Tommy hadn't said what he had last night.
And mother of all that is holy, I wished I had slept last night.
We didn't have a show any time soon, but we wanted to do something. Or, at least, we did until a drunk blonde elf showed up at my door and acted like a dick. I sighed, rubbing my face. "Adam, my friend!" I looked up, then shook my head. "You look tired." My best friend, Monte, told me. No shit.
"A little."
"At least you're not as bad as Tommy. He looks terrible." I felt guilt wash over me. "He won't talk to any of us, though. I mean, it's not like he talked a lot anyway..." he mumbled on, but I wasn't listening.
My eyes were focused on my small blonde nightmare, a sad Tommy Joe. I frowned. He was sitting on the ground, staring at his feet stretched in front of him as he leaned on his hands. His clothes were the same as yesterday's, and he had a new, half full bottle of Daniel's at his side.
Before I realized it, my feet carried my body to him, and I saw tears running down his face. "You fucked up everything." He muttered. "I hate you."
"I know I did, and I know you do." I told him. He just shook his head. "Where did you go last night?" I asked, concerned.
"What's it to you? If you cared at all you wouldn't have done or said the shit you did."
"Why did you show up at my house last night, Tommy? Drunk, of all things?"
"Adam, there's some things about me you gotta realize. One of them is that I spend eighty percent of my life drunk, or at least buzzed." I smiled.
"What made you decide to come to my house, then?" He pondered.
"Because I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather have been."
"Tommy, why did you tell your roommates that you-"
"Because I needed advice. I only told them I was undecided. I was confused. And they threw my shit at me and took my key." I frowned. "God, I thought they'd be helpful. I trusted those bastards, you know? They meant a lot to me."
I sat down next to him and tried to dust off the fact that he scooted away. "You want my advice?"
"No." I smiled.
"Will you listen if I give it to you anyway?" He nodded tentatively. "I don't think you should fret about this. You can't change the way they react to things, you know? I mean, since I was a teenager I've been in you position. If you let them bother you, you let them think they're right."
"I didn't even come to a conclusion with them, though. All I said is that I had feelings for someone who wasn't a girl and they flipped." He lifted a hand smearing the tears off his face.
"It's not your fault."
"I shouldn't have asked them."
"You shouldn't have to hold it back. Just because they aren't the people you thought they were, it doesn't mean you're at fault, Tommy."
"Then I came to you. Guess you weren't the person I thought you were either, Adam." I looked down. "I deserved the slap, yeah, I said something mean and untrue. Completely untrue, but you discouraged me." He stated.
"You didn't deserve any of it. Not any of it. I'm sorry."
"Whatever, Adam."
"It's not whatever." He grabbed the bottle of alcohol, taking a drink. "Your liver's gonna give out on you one of these days."
"Wouldn't that be a shame." He smiled. "I'm sorry for bothering you last night. Maybe things would have gone different...given another situation." I bit my lip, nodding. "But, Adam..." he shook his head.
"I'm really sorry, okay?" He nodded. I kissed the side of his head, feeling him relax a little. "I do love you, by the way. I don't know what that means to you, but it's a fact." He didn't say anything, just took another drink. "Where did you end up going last night, honestly?"
"Honestly?" I nodded. He cleared his throat, then mumbled, "I, uh, slept in your backyard." I laughed, loud, drawing attention. "Where else was I supposed to go? The freeway?"
"You're too pretty for the freeway, gorgeous." He rolled his eyes, trying not to smile.
"Well, I have no idea what was going on when you put on your makeup this morning, but you look like a hooker." I scoffed. He mimicked me. "Two dollar whore." He smiled, standing without letting go of the bottle, then skipped – he skipped – off to talk to people.
"You're dead, Thomas."
"Don't call me that!"
"You called me a hooker!" People laughed around him, seeing that oh-so-rare smile of his.
"I said you looked like a hooker, Babyboy, never said you were one. I mean, you sleep around enough to-" but he stopped talking when I stood and ran after him.
"Bastard!" I yelled, hearing his laugh. "You little fucker!"
"At least I don't fuck everything that moves!" He responded.
"I do not!" My arms then wrapped around his teeny, tiny, cute little waist, grabbing him tightly. "Silly Thomas Joseph. Pretty sure you screwed around more on tour than I did. Including your multiple make out sessions with fans. Classy."
He just giggled as I kissed the side of his head again.