To the Beat of My Heart

As Long as the Music Carries You

I don't think any of us gets much sleep that night. Eventually, Clay's exhaustion knocks him right out, but I'm left staring up into the darkness, cold, feeling like a complete idiot and tosser. I call myself worse, whisper poison that grates against my lips and steals conscious thought for jagged tears.

I should have seen the signs, right? How pale and prone to coughing fits he was, how thin he'd gotten lately? Hiding his goddamn bald head beneath a beanie, a hood, shades... I wanted to scream at him when he said that, to call him selfish. I wanted so much to be angry, but I can't be. This is his life and he has the right to tell who he wants to tell. We were in the wrong. I know Clay hates what he did. He didn't have to say anything to me. We went straight to our beds after that bombshell. I was left there stuttering, and Clay bolted, our bedroom door slamming with a resounding thud. I managed to choke out a lousy 'I'm so sorry' and that was it. I looked at him, everything inside me crumbling, and I joined Clay in exile.

Shit, but how do you recover after something like that?

God, I'm such a fucking moron. Ansel's been in enough pain as it is, and this night has royally fucked everything up that much... I dunno, some tiny, rational part of my brain is saying this needed to happen. I mean, shit, like we were gonna get the truth from him the way things were going—it never felt like he wanted to let us in. Jaz was right to worry he would ditch. Kai and Ansel are a tag team now and while I'm happy Ansel feels like he can finally open up to someone, Kai isn't exactly my first choice on being an emotional lifeline for anyone.

"Fuck," I breathe.

Clay is deathly silent, and I know he won't talk to me tonight. Cancer is a big taboo in his household. The omnipresent fear that debilitates and crushes you. His dad has endured years longer than any of them expected. From when he was a toddler his dad had instilled in his son a deep appreciation for music and the rockstar lifestyle. His dad was cool personified, his role model, his everything. Thinking each day might be his dad's last put a huge strain on Clay in school. It doesn't excuse the drugs, but I don't know if I can fully blame him either.

I want to hold tight to Clay but I feel like my touch will burn tonight. So I leave him. I absorb his deep-seated pain and anxiety and feel myself rapidly corroding, spiralling, shattering.

I wish Ansel could have told me. What were we supposed to do? Keep living in fear of him maybe, probably not, potentially dropping out on us? Keep hoping things would get better on their own? Like that ever bloody fixes anything. It's a stalemate, a cold war. Paper over the cracks until the problem erupts. Maybe this is ripping the bandage off and we have to live with the consequences of that? If that means Ansel rips up his contract and goes home to his family, who are we to stop him? He can do whatever the hell he wants. It's his time.

His time...

FUCK! I press the heels of my palms into my eyes, wiping away the tears. He's been carrying bloody cancer for god knows how long now? And he just soldiered on and dealt with Kai's tone-deaf flirting and teasing. With Clay and I digging our bloody noses into his private affairs. How much emotional and physical pain has he had to endure and how much of that was on his own? Has Kai been that one source of light in the dark? Has any of it been enough?

I don't know. And it scares me. But I can't do anything about that tonight.

Tomorrow is a full-on day. And we can't pretend like it never happened. We need to talk. And we need to set things right. I just hope we don't lose Ansel forever.

***

Berlin. We're a hand's throw from Quedlinburg—Ansel could literally hop on a bus and be there in a couple of hours. We didn't catch him in the morning—looks like him and Kai are already inside, along with the rest of the crew. The last technician clambers off the bus as Jaz files in past him, stopping me and Clay in our tracks. She gives us a knowing look and asks how we're doing. Our silence is all she needs.