The Heart of Seasons

Chapter 13: Decisions

~Blake’s POV~

“Hey Blake, can we talk a minute?” Blake spun around, slightly wobbly on his feet. He placed the bottle, nearly empty, down on the bar and smiled lazily at Carson.

“Sure!”

With effort, he followed his friend into the back room where the props were being held.

“I know you’re pretty intoxicated right now, but that only serves to emphasize my concern.”

Blake swallowed nervously. Drunk or not, he wasn’t stupid.

“L-look Carson, I know how this must look, I just...” he trailed off, unable to figure out what to say. Carson watched him expectantly.

He tried again. “Things have just been really hard and stuff and I know I don’t usually drink this much but I promise I’ll stop and it won’t happen again. I don’t want to put the reputation of this show in jeopardy or anything, I know. It’s time to stop. And I’m going to do that. I’ll put the drink away, say goodbye to every-”

“Stop. You’re not going anywhere, Shelton. We’re getting to the bottom of this tonight.”

A sudden queasy feeling in Blake’s stomach made him take a cautious step back, his fuzzy mind trying to figure out what Carson was talking about. He had a funny feeling it wasn’t good.

“You are going to stay right here in this room and I will be back in a minute. Do not leave. Understand?”

“But why? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? Hey, don’t leave! Carson! Damn you!” He yelled after the host who had already walked out the door. Angry and frustrated, Blake slammed down into one of the two plastic chairs that were set out.

Only to shoot right back up.

“What the...” It only took him another clumsy second to sneak out the door and maneuver down the hallway without being seen. When passing one of the set directors he waved nonchalantly, focusing on the door at the end of the hall. He finally reached it and pushed his way outside, the cold making quick work of removing his buzz. It wasn’t until he saw the second chair did he realize Carson was bringing in another person. And he didn’t have to question who.

But how the hell does he know? Did Adam say something? He realized Adam wouldn’t of; he was probably too ashamed of what happened during those months and wanted to forget about it. And anyways, the little man wasn’t so innocent himself. Word had gotten around to Blake about Adam’s nightly adventures with one stands. How coincidental that they started two days after he left, and apparently it was someone else every night.

Blake didn’t have the heart in him to pity him, though. He couldn’t even control himself when it came to the alcohol. Anything to take the pain and memories away. But he wasn’t using other women as a distraction, either. Adam had been the last person he’d touched and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad.

As his eyes adjusted, Blake realized he was behind the trailers. Could I slip around and into mine without anyone noticing? He carefully peeked around the corner of one and saw a few workers walking around, but no Carson. Or Adam.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he slipped around and down the line to his door. Once in, he stripped off his clothes and threw them tiredly to the floor, telling himself he’d pick them up in the morning before sleep overtook his tired mind.

***

Aggravation tore through Blake at the sound of the incessant pounding on his door. He located his pillow and slammed it over his head, burying his face in the sheet and hoping the person would eventually go away if he didn’t answer.

“God damnit, Blake. Do you ever do what you’re told?”

Now he outwardly cringed as Carson’s frustrated voice floated through the trailer.

“I swear, if you don't open this door I will have Bobby do it for me!” This got Blake up instantly. Bobby was the trailer manager and for some reason no one understood, he didn’t like Blake in the least.

Realizing he was without clothes, he hurriedly pulled on the previous days’ and went to open the door. The bright sunlight was a painful reminder of just how much he had drunk the night before. Carson pushed past him and into his trailer without a word, so Blake closed the door and followed him.

“You drank so much you didn’t even change from last night.”

“What? No, actually I-”

“Don’t even, Shelton. There’s no fooling the one who had to guide you to a freaking chair.”

“But I swear I-”

“Okay, okay. Irrelevant. What I want to know is why you left? After I told you to stay.”

Blake wasn’t ready to let the outfit accusation go, but decided it could wait for another time.

“I left because I didn’t want to stay. And who were you bringing into the room, anyways?

“Bringing into the room? I never said I was doing such a thing. What are you talking about?” Carson’s face showed nothing but confusion.

Blake wasn’t falling for it. “There were only two chairs set up. And you left to go get someone. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so I left. Plain and simple. Now, after you so rudely woke me up, can I please get ready for today? In peace?”

Carson stood up, but of course he wasn’t done talking. “This isn’t over, Shelton. I will get it out of you eventually. I will find out exactly what happened, mark my words.” He was gone with the click of the door and the room was silent again. Too silent.

Blake laid his head back on the couch and heaved a sigh. He was wondering when the mysterious weight on his chest was going to let up. He hoped soon; it was painful. Absently, he turned his head so he was looking through his blinds out into the middle area that the trailers circled. Workers, directors, and contestants milled about. His gaze drifted upwards and landed on-big surprise- Adam’s trailer window. There was a slight movement to them and he saw a finger pull one of the plastic pieces down to look out. Blake ducked his head behind the couch and peeked out the side of the curtain.

Adam seemed to be laying on his stomach, and Blake flashed back to the day the man had moved his bed to the window side halfway through the first season so he could watch everyone more comfortably. Blake had laughed when he saw this and jokingly accused him of being a closet stalker. Adam had merely brushed it off, saying he was a people watcher and it was fun to do so. Blake didn't notice it at the time, but looking back, he realized how cute it was that Adam did that.

Why didn’t I see it before? How did I miss it?

He wanted to be on the other side of the circle, in the opposite trailer, in that moment more than ever before.

He was dressed, shaved, and fussing with his hair before he could stop and realize what he was about to do. Standing in front of the mirror, he examined himself and his values in life. There honestly weren’t that many now that his wife didn’t occupy half of them. There was his music career, his coaching job on The Voice, and what, a couple friends that included a bottle of alcohol?

He eventually gave up on that unruly curl that was only there to make him miserable and grabbed his phone. Right before opening his door and took a deep breathe and calmed his nerves.

“You’ve got this Blake. Don’t mess this up.”

He opened the door. And there he stood, mid-knock.

“Well this is awkward,” Adam said.