Icarus

Insane

Insane

"Where did you go? You disappeared for two days, man," the red-haired boy asked Tate as he entered the room.

"Nowhere, Macaroni," the sparse reply indicating he really didn't want to talk about it.

Tate was sitting on his bedroom floor with his acoustic guitar. There were papers all around him. By the way he looked, Mac could tell that his best friend was having a moment of inspiration, maybe he was writing a song or a poem.

"You just left in the middle of the show!" The boy moved his arms trying to get Tate's attention but he was concentrating on writing something. "And you disappeared for two days, you didn't even reply to my messages or calls...."

"Look, let it go, nothing happened," Tate replied, getting out a box of cigarettes from his back pocket and lighting one up.

 After he left Cassie, the guilt had eaten all his strength.  The emotional moment they was too much to handle. Cassie was young, she would die, and everyone involved would be upset if they knew that Tate was responsible.

 Apart from that, dinner helped pass the time and they laughed and laughed with Lily. Cassie pretended to be fine and that's what surprised Tate, she hid her tears so well it was almost impossible to guess she was heartbroken. She managed a series of fake smiles, but Tate could see right through to her pain.

"You look upset." Tate didn't answer. "You hear me? I should be the one upset here, you left the entire band and the crowd waiting for you to come back and you never did."

"I had a few problems."

"Like what?"

"A crazy hot chick pointed a gun at me insisting that I fade from the face of earth."

 Mac raised an eyebrow and laughed at him.

 The best about telling the truth is that everyone thinks is a lie, thought Tate, who laughed too. Whenever he blurted out that kind of nonsense everyone thought it was hilarious. And Mac was the type of person who didn't care about anything or anyone, except Tate.

"Wish I had those problems... will we ever know where Tate goes when he disappears? I don't think so."

"You don't want to know," Tate replied, getting up from the floor, "And I'm going to disappear right now," he declared, exhaling the smoke from his mouth straight into Mac's face, who coughed and fanned the smoke away with his hand.

"Again? Do I have to be worried?"

"No, mom." 

 Tate headed to the door but Mac stopped him, pointing out the little notepad in Tate's bed and said, "I'll read your poems." Picking up the little blue notepad, he opened it and started reading as fast as he could. Tate could see his green eyes going from side to side.

 Those four words...those four fucking words which Tate feared and hated all his life. Tate turned around fast and took Mac unaware, pushing him against the wall and then grabbing him by his shirt. "Do that again and I'll break your face."

"I never knew you were so deep. Your improvised poems suck, but the ones written in here are rad!" Mac said without a hint of sarcasm.

"Thanks but," Tate took the little notepad from Mac's hands with a rapid movement, "don't do that again."

"Chill, I won't say anything about your poems to the band or anyone else. You can trust me." 

Tate rolled his eyes and let go him go. "You drive me insane! I wonder why we are friends," he hissed while walking towards the door.

 "Because I'm the only person who tolerates you...because I'm the only one as insane as you!"