Jeremy stood at the door, looking into the room. When he'd called Cole to tell him what happened about three hours ago, he'd expected to show up to find maybe a mattress on the floor in a small room. Of course, it was Cole, so it couldn't possibly just be a mattress on the floor.
It was a temple.
There were differently colored sheets that he'd hung from the corners of the room and connected around the fan that hung from the ceiling that resembled a tent.
There were some signs of normalcy, though, but the sheets mostly covered them. Jeremy could only guess they'd been Isabel's personal touch. Cole didn't worry about things like sofas or drawers; he worried about hanging differently colored sheets from the corners of rooms. "My casa, your casa, mis amigos," he heard Cole say as he came to stand beside him at the door. He looked around the room with pride until his eyes settled on the small wooden table with a large candle on it and a bouquet of flowers beside it. If there weren't so many different-colored sheets, he was sure it would have made the room feel welcoming in a "you're a guest" kind of way, not a "drugs and groupies" kind of way. "I tried to get Is to take out those hideous decorations as they clash with my design, but…" Cole shrugged sadly.
"You say something about my decorations?" Jeremy heard Isabel yell angrily from downstairs.
"No, Princess. I love you," Cole answered. Jeremy tried to smile. It seemed like his mouth had been drawn into a permanent frown today, his eyes narrowed angrily. He wasn't used to having that expression on his face and he sure didn't like the way it felt now. He couldn't stop it, though. He wasn't sure he'd even sort-of smiled just now.
"Thanks for this, man," he said, looking Cole in the eye. Cole wasn't the easiest person to show appreciation to if you didn't know what he was like. He grinned his casual grin, the one that had always won over so many cameras, but Jeremy could see in his eyes that there was something more there. He'd figured it out the moment he'd seen the room. The decorations were Cole's acknowledgement that this was a shitty situation. The grin itself was a "you're welcome, anytime."
Jeremy didn't expect him to say anything else. Normally he didn't, but it seemed that being with Isabel had somehow softened his unending anxiety about everything. He was more present than Jeremy had ever witnessed him being. "You can stay for as long as you want, Jeremy. Honestly. I meant what I said."
"Your casa, my casa, mis amigos?" Jeremy asked. Cole grinned again, stepping into the room.
"You, my friend, get to experience the St. Clair experience first hand," Cole declared theatrically, letting him know the moments of reality had ended. Jeremy walked behind him, looking around the room. He was kidding… but he also wasn't kidding. Cole had given him the isolated guest room in the back of the house to stay in, which was basically an small apartment that connected to the rest of the house. There was a small kitchen there and a bathroom, which meant he wouldn't really need to bother Cole and Isabel too much unless he had to leave the house. There were sliding doors here, but they opened up to a small back yard that had a path straight to the pool area.
Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, looking at nothing in particular.
"Way more than enough," he said, tucking his hair behind his ear.
"St. Clair experience, my friend. St. Clair experience," Cole grinned. Jeremy couldn't actually help but smile. "You might have to leave your den to find some food, though. I didn't have any time to go grocery shopping for you, alas. Writing songs and girlfriend pleasing and what not. I leave you to venture out into the world for substance."
"I'll live," Jeremy answered. "I'm not very hungry today anyway."
Cole nodded, patting his back and turning away. "You know where to find me, my friend," was the last thing he said. Jeremy gave him a fake smile and waited for him to disappear to have a look around the room. The kitchen was on the raised floor with a marble, undecorated island counter, beside it the glass sliding doors that led outside to the pool, where he knew a small path led to the beach. He laughed out loud as he lay on the colorful mattress and recalling the house warming party Isabel and Cole had thrown when they'd moved in. The night had ended with everyone naked and in the water, drunk off their asses and making too much noise. He opened the glass doors to let the cool breeze in.
He lie on the mattress and stared at what would be the ceiling if colorful pieces of cloth weren't hanging from it. He breathed evenly, trying to relax himself enough to fall asleep, trying to calm his racing mind, but it was useless. He couldn't stop thinking about Star. The last two years, from the moment he'd met her to the moment he'd left her, kept racing randomly through his mind. He'd loved her truly. He wasn't sure what he felt now, though. It wasn't exactly hate but it was something like it, as close as he'd ever gotten to it, at least. He'd built a life with Star in the two years that Cole had disappeared and NARKOTICA had become nothing but a video of Cole lying on the floor as everyone watched. After that, Jeremy had done what he'd always known to do.
He'd just kept going.
He'd started with a new bad, playing paying gigs here and there. They weren't NARKOTICA but he was playing and able to live comfortably off of it so it'd been fine. Then he'd met Star, brown skinned, long-legged and beautiful. They'd been friends for so long, before they'd become anything else. He thought he'd known her well enough to know that she was the kind of girl who wouldn't cheat on him with someone who couldn't even spell "fuck" or barely hold a bad together.
Jeremy groaned, turning face down onto the pillow. He couldn't afford to get lost in those thoughts anymore. He had to do now what he'd always done: keep going. He'd go get some groceries tomorrow; he didn't want to be a burden to Cole and Isabel, although he was sure that neither of them would mind him mooching off of them. He had to get clothes, too. He'd left everything in the house that was no longer he. He hadn't even given second thought to take anything that belonged to him. It didn't seem right, even now, going back for it. It didn't seem like anything in that house, anything she'd ever touched, belonged to him at all.
His thoughts strayed back to Matthew. It's not that they'd exactly been best friends; even in the new band, the relationship he'd shared with Cole and Victor could never be replicated; but they weren't unfriendly. They knew each other; he'd spent hours in Matthew's garage picking up on their music. They'd never had the strongest players, but they'd worked well. He'd easily overlooked everything that wasn't NARKOTICA about the band. They'd shared drinks and stories and laughter.
When had Star fallen for him? When had she started seeing him?
His mind wandered back to the look on her face when she walked into the room and his eyes had turned to look at her, her phone in his hand like a brick. There was silence. He didn't need to ask the question because she already knew. He'd watched the smile fade away from her face, a look close to shame blurring the usually playful look in her eyes. "Jeremy…" That's all she'd had to say. He'd walked out right then, ignoring her calling after him. He hadn't asked her how long. He hadn't asked her why. He didn't need to. He didn't want to know. Just like that, it was over. Two years. Two fucking years.
He got up and went to the small kitchen, running the sink water and leaning in directly to drink it. He leaned against the counter and looked at the colorful sheets that adorned most of the room. The Cole St. Clair Show, is all that came to mind. He wasn't just part of it now, he'd be living it. He rubbed his jaw. He wouldn't think about it anymore, he told himself. He'd just forget about Star. He'd forget about everything. He'd work with Cole and Leyla, write music…
He'd just forget about everything else.