Secrets

Part Three: LIVING THINGS -- Appearances

[May 20, 2012]

"Twins. Twins, Mike. Jesus. I said I wanted one more, one last try for a little girl. And now twins. For the most absent dad ever. What the fuck, Mike?"

Chester paced back and forth in Mike's home studio, his eyes blazing with fear and disbelief as he shoved his hands over his scalp. "I've told you before what a shit parent I am. Never home. Kids all over the place, I hardly ever have the boys all together Fuck. Two more? That's too many fuckin' kids, Mike. Too fuckin' many."

He stopped pacing and turned to Mike, who was sitting wide-eyed in his rolling chair behind the console. Their eyes met and Chester felt like he wanted to scream. He knew how he kept ending up with more kids, he wasn't stupid about pregnancy. But now that he was about to get the daughter he wanted - two daughters - it all seemed like too much. He needed Mike to say something, anything, to make it all better. He needed Mike to calm him down.

Mike bit his lip as he watched Chester pace the studio. They had arranged to meet at his place to drive to the photo shoot together, and it had thrown Mike off when Chester had insisted they go up to the studio first. He knew they didn't have a lot of time, but Chester was on edge. Mike had seen it before, the pacing, the anxiety, the fear that was overriding rational thought. He could feel it, and he was usually the person on the receiving end of these meltdowns, Chester's safe space to talk through what he was feeling, and he knew he was the only person who really understood Chester enough to talk him down.

"Shit, Ches, you didn't say that to Tal, did you?" Mike looked up in concern, his voice soft and carefully controlled. Chester had a tendency to speak first and think later, and Mike had learned from recent experience that there was only one way to respond when your wife turned up pregnant... delightfully excited.

"Fuck, no, I didn't say that," Chester spat in this direction before he started pacing again. "I'm not stupid, Mike. That's why I'm telling you."

With a sigh, Mike continued to watch Chester pace the length of the room two more times before his shoulders seemed to crumble and his whole body shrank. There it is. Now he'll listen. "Ches," Mike said, his voice still soft. "Why don't you sit down. C'mon," he coaxed, standing up and reaching for the vocalist. "Right here, it's gonna be okay, I promise. Just sit down."

Chester allowed himself to be lead to the couch and he sank down into the cushions, dramatically throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "It's not, Mike, it's not going to be okay." He moved his head back and forth on the cushion. "Girls, Mike. Like, Tal's going to want me to be home more, and stop cursing, and put a shirt on." He dropped both hands to his sides, palms up, as though he'd just completely given up.

Despite the woe in his best friend's voice, Mike smiled gently. "Ches... did she say any of that? Or is that just your head running away with you again?" He reached over and smoothed his palm across Chester's knee in soothing circles.

"She doesn't have to, Mike, that's what you do when you have little girls. You protect them. Right? I don't see you parading around without a shirt and saying fuck every other word." Chester's voice was starting to lose its panicked edge.

"Ches. You know I don't walk around without my shirt on." Mike rolled his eyes, even as the relief washed over him. Chester was already on his way down, he could tell from the way he was picking on details that didn't really matter. If this had been about to turn into a full-blown melt-down, Chester would still be flipping out over the simple fact that there were going to be two babies instead of just one. This was going to be okay, he'd moved on to the trivial already. They might even still make it to the shoot on time.