in pieces

11. the messenger

My hands tangled in his hair as my breath hitched. His hands were under my shirt and caressing my sides so gently. I closed my eyes and let out a soft whimper. We fought for dominance. Suddenly, I was on my back and he was on top of me. It was sudden... and he started touching me...

"Chester buddy you gotta wake up... Chester?" I grunted as Mike tried to wake me. Then I realized... I was probably acting out my desires in my sleep. A deep, red flush came across my face. I suddenly started to hate myself.

"Go away," my voice became harsh. Mike was taken aback by my sudden outburst.

"Chester if this is about that dream... I'm not mad, okay?"

"Go away!" I shooed him off.

"Chester-"

Something I hadn't let out in years suddenly come out. It was like the first day recording 'A Place For My Head.' I let out the same, gut wrenching scream. "GO AWAAY!" I screamed at him, my eyes full of anger. It was the same type of anger he'd seen countless times on stage.

He seemed to get the memo. His expression was full of hurt and shame and I calmed down in a flash. "Wait- Mike," I looked at him. "I'm sorry... I just-"

"I thought you wanted to be with me..."

"I do, Mike! I just..." I sighed, "I thought you'd be angry or even worse... think the dream was something to lead you on to do... sexual things on me. I'm not ready I'm sorry..." tears started to roll down my cheeks.

"Chester- oh I wasn't planning on it. I was gonna help you get cleaned up in case... you... you know..."

I nodded, understanding what he was getting at, "Of course... I didn't though. I'm sorry for overthinking and overreacting... I'm just not... used to love..." I admitted.

"You're not overreacting baby-" I could tell it slipped out on accident, but it made me smile.

"So we're on with the pet names I see, handsome," I purred and giggled. He was wide eyed and flustered. I smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "This is what I always wanted. Me and you... together."

"I know... and I'm sorry I almost fucked it all up... Chester you could've died cause of me!"

"Quit being dramatic it wasn't like it was my first time on the streets of LA."

"I know... but still... you know how many diseases get transmitted through blood and spit and such..."

"It's fine. I never contracted anything. It was the first test Rob absolutely ordered I get," I rolled my eyes.

"He can't help it... for the period before Linkin Park he was an EMT. He's seen so much and is the absolute best person to keep around for when you sir fall down a flight of stairs trying to jump them," Mike grabbed my cheek.

"I didn't fall down them, my foot got stuck," I pouted and puckered my lip out.

"Same thing. Either way you broke your wrist," he played with my hair.

"Shut up," I huffed.

"When I'm talking to you," he repeated like a parrot.

"But-"

"I know you were just like me..."

"Mike!" I laughed.

"I can't believe my name isn't in a song yet. Fatass got his name in a song before I did!"

"Well you're the 'leader' why didn't you add your name," I laughed.

"Because now I realize I want my name in a song of ours to tease you!" He laughed with me.

I rolled my eyes, looking at him. There was something soft about his eyes right now. It was the old Mike. The one I fell in love with. He looked at me with all the love in the world. It's like he saw something I didn't. I didn't love myself... how could he love me?

"How about we finally get that album finished. Go on tour again. I've always wanted to have sex in the bunks in the bus," he chuckled.

"All it needs is some refinement, right? We can do that at your home studio," I smiled.

"Oh yeah, great idea. All I need is to get some retakes on your vocals and... maybe an extra song. Pull one out of your ass I don't know."

"This late in the game?"

"Did I stutter Mr. Nice Ass?"

"Mr... Nice Ass?" I laughed. "Fine. I'll write something. Don't expect a fully fledged track," I groaned.

"Clocks ticking, better start writing," he laughed.

•••

I sat in the paper littered floor. I couldn't think of anything. No lyrics sounded like they'd fit. Not for this album. Maybe last album where the tone was more depressing, but this was Linkin Park's new sound. I was wide awake at midnight, fueled on coffee and possibly the haunting thoughts in my head. What if I don't get this finished and Mike hates me? In desperation I turned to a notebook of drafts. I flipped through, tears running down my cheeks.

"Mike..." my voice came out hoarse. He immediately knew something was up. My body was trembling and I looked away, ashamed.

"Chaz, what's wrong?" I couldn't answer him... he frowned at the lack of response, "Answer me, okay? Are you... bruised?" He frowned. It was sometime before we released Minutes to Midnight. I had just gotten out of rehab. It stopped the drug use but didn't help my mental health. "Did someone try to strangle you? What happened? Why is your neck bruised?"

I could only look down and frown. I couldn't tell him. It was like my words were stuck in my throat. He frowned, "You weren't raped, were you?" He asked. I shook my head. I realized I wouldn't be able to tell him... and he wouldn't push for the answer either.

Honestly... a few weeks had past and he'd probably mostly forgotten about the whole bruise thing. I knew how it had happened. I suddenly got a bad idea. They'd done a party in the studio and left the vodka. I could get drunk... great idea. It would kill the pain.

I grabbed it out of the freezer, quickly downing a few shots. I was used to the burning, after all. I knew Mike wouldn't stop by anytime today. After all, I was here to finish lyrics... supposedly.

I had found a guitar cable. Perfect size. I tied it up to one of the hanging lights, and as soon as I started to doubt what I was going to do, I took a few more shots. It was a good idea at the time, anyways.

I had blacked out, only to be awakened by Mike. My neck really fucking hurt. "Chester wake up! Rob, fuck are we gonna have to call an ambulance. What if they take him to the psych ward? We have an album releasing in a month, Rob!"

I opened my eyes a little and the world was spinning. I shut my eyes only to be violently shaken awake. "It's the alcohol, Mike. I don't feel anything broken in his neck. Seems just bruised..." Rob was talking.

"Fuck I shouldn't have let him leave with that bruise. Rob he'd attempted before and I... I didn't know! I thought it was some kind of accident or someone had hurt him!"

I tried to sit up. I wanted to look at Mike. I wanted to tell him I was okay. "Mike..." I looked at him, and he wrapped me into his arms.

"Chester, remember... please if you remember anything from this... remember you're loved... and you always will be..."

Wide eyed, I looked at the piece of paper. Inspiration struck. I started to write the song. Inspired by his words, I wrote the song as a reminder to myself... and as a message to my children.

When life leaves us blind, love keeps us kind.