BROTHERS

Chapter 26

ONE WEEK LATER

-BILL'S POV-

The area appeared to explode with audience yells of excitement and conversation as soon as we stepped onto the stage. The hostess rose up and smiled at me as she extended her hand to welcome us. "It is wonderful to you see you all!" Glancing between the guys and myself, she said. I sat down in one of the chairs and said, "Thank you for having us."

I turned to face Tom as he smiled and waved to the crowd casually. It was shocking how quickly Tom adapted to putting up a front when it came to the public eye. But he was always the same, dull, passive, Tom. But can you blame him? Not a day went by that Tom wasn't held up in meetings, always out until six in the morning with soldiers as they organized drug transfers. Many times, I'd catch him in his office, asleep in his chair, a small table lamp turned on and dozens of papers with numbers, contracts and bank statements.

A couple of notes to the side reminding him of upcoming events and headache pills. I knew the moment I saw those pills, he was overworking himself and all the sleepless nights were beginning to catch up to him. Everyone wondered why, and although nobody dared to ask, I knew why...He didn't want to remember. He didn't want his thoughts to consume him like before. His nightmares stopped, he's become more vocal in the group, but it doesn't change the fact that deep down he's still broken.

Each person had a distinct way of handling stress; Gustav and Georg liked to drink, I enjoyed a night out and Tom enjoyed fucking women like some athletic endeavor. He rotated between a select group of girls. "Tiffany, is it?" I asked on a particular day when she arrived early to her appointment.

I towered over her, and she rolled her eyes at me, as she said "Yeah?" I took a moment to take her in, she was older, perhaps around twenty three. Big breasts, nice ass....A whole package deal. "Um, where's Tom? I have things to do?" She said, roaming around the house.

I chuckled as I said, "You shouldn't be speaking to others all high and mighty when you're nothing but a whore." With a glass in my hand, I walked over to her. "Remember your place as just that. This is the best life can get for you," I remarked, passing her the glass filled with liquor. "What is this?" she asked.

"Drink it, you'll need it," I grinned at her. She gave me a perplexed expression. "Don't worry, alcohol is all it is. Something you can manage, I'm sure of it," I reassured her. She rolled her eyes as she sipped from the glass and returned it to me. Her eyebrows furrowed and she coughed from the strong drink. I put down the glass and looked up at her. "Now, has anyone ever taught you some manners?" I asked, grabbing her wrist and slamming her against the wall. "W-what are you doing?!" She exclaimed. I stretched my arm over her and swung it down to meet the side of her cheek, saying, "I'll take that as a no." tears welled up in her eyes and a scorching red hand mark appeared on her face.

"What the fuck! You just slapped me!" She exclaimed. "He's not going to sleep with me anymore!" I poured myself a shot and emptied the small glass. As I sighed from the sting of the bitter alcohol, I leaned closer to her, caressing her cheek. "Forgive me for my rudeness, I don't typically lay a hand on women, but you can't blame me, right? all I wanted was to correct your rudeness. I hope I've achieved it," I said, my hands intertwining with her hair as I pulled her head back. "Let this be a lesson. The next time, I won't just slap you, It'll be far worse."

When I let go of her, I had one of the house maids tend to her face. She was right, Tom wouldn't have slept with her if he saw anything unpleasant about her. Not only was he picky with food, he was picky with women too.

But when we weren't doing any sleeping, drinking or partying. We always came back to one thing. Music. Even though we hadn't performed since that night in Germany, we still always made time for it. And as I would look through Tom's desk on a night where he'd fallen asleep in his chair, I'd always, without a doubt find some sort of paper or sticky note with chords drawn and lyrics written.