To the Beat of My Heart

Holding it Together

Clay holds my hand only briefly as we exit through customs at Leipzig/Halle Airport and I feel a tension in there before he lets go. Or did I let go? I should fight to claim it again but I just feel... tired. I don't think that word conveys just how calamitous I actually feel. The flight was only a couple of hours so it's not jetlag. Some part's gotta be this general weariness with all this travel, but that's only the surface. Hell, maybe this trip is dredging up baggage in all of us that we'd tried so bloody hard to keep buried. Chelsea's the only one really unaffected and seems giddy at the idea of being in Germany. Good for her. God, I just need to get to the hotel and lie down.

We trust Kai to go ahead and book us a rental car, trusting in his German. His simple response, 'Ja' isn't inspiring much confidence.

We follow a pensive Clay over to a Starbucks and order coffees, and I order an extra for Kai. I'm a gentleman, after all. Or just, a decent human being who knows the dude would appreciate it. Jesus, maybe it was the forlorn look on Kai's face on the flight, like he was actually dreading what came from this trip, and yet that hopeful smile when I looked his way. So obviously forced and it hurt because I knew it too well. How much of his swagger was an act? Kai keeps his real demons locked deep and perhaps we're fortunate only to feel the fiery tongue of pretenders.

Coffees in hand, I fall to the metal seat and almost immediately a headache settles in. This isn't a bloody holiday. Not unless... until we sort out Ansel.

You weren't happy with us, your walls breaking every day and it doesn't matter that we crossed an ocean for you. Not like we can't guarantee you won't bail out on us again. No, that's not accurate. We bailed out on you. We're not good for you. I don't know who is. I just know... there's so much we don't know about you and, whatever, that's your choice to keep it that way. If it would help us, help you to feel more comfortable, I wish you would let us in. Just a little.

Hands slap down on my shoulders and I start awake. How long was I...

Clay and Chelsea are sitting exactly where they were before, and I look up at Kai, bags under his eyes but wearing that omnipresent smirk. I nudge his coffee towards the open seat to my right.

"Thanks, babe," he says, scraping the chair back and plopping down beside me, slumped right into his chair, left leg jittering. "Car's sorted. Jaguar." He bites his lip, growling seductively. "Beauty!"

I sit up, neck twitching, the beginnings of a headache forming. "And you're paying for that, right?"

"Of course, mate. These German bitches gotta see our sexy-ass ride tearing down the street. Roll down the window, pick up hot-as chicks. Boys included. Not fucked either way." He sniffs, nose wrinkling a few times. "More the merrier." His fingers tap unsteadily on the table and he seems to settle down, voice lowering, confidence tempered. "Anyone got any objections to me being the driver?"

Chelsea keeps her eyes low and Clay shrugs. "Not like I can read the signs..."

"Sweet!" Kai exclaims, sipping at his coffee. "Sorted." He smacks my knee and I grit my teeth. Call it general Kai irritation. Never fails to make me cringe or wince just with little familiar gestures and cocky smirks. He can drive. It's more though. I just... it still feels wrong that he's here. I can't tell how genuine he is about making amends beneath this stupid bloody grin. Whatever. Maybe this brings us back to the way things were. They say living with people for an extended period of time reveals their true self. Well, I tried that already. But maybe free from the rigid schedule of the touring life, Kai's carefree, don't-give-a-fuck attitude won't be so grating.

The car rental place was a good ten-minute walk so we took a break outside for Kai and Clay to smoke and I took in our haggard group. Clay stared at his phone and Kai paced in a random pattern. Chelsea was unusually quiet, maybe minor jetlag creeping in, maybe sensing the unspoken tension in the air. Clay was doing a really splendid job attempting to go about incognito. No seriously. The whole shielding his face, turning away quickly and hiding behind shades. Not fishy at all.