Loud Like Love

Chapter One: English Summer Rain

'Work was okay,' said Nick. 'How's your evening been?'

'Not bad.' Zoë smiled.

'Relaxing,' Richard added. 'Not a slip of paperwork, which is all a bloke can ask for, really.'

'Slow crime day?'

'Slow crime summer. It's like all our delinquents actually took a holiday, for once.'

Nick nodded. 'Hey, I'm gonna take a shower. It's pissing down out there.'

He fetched clean clothes from his room and went to the bathroom, where he stripped out of his uniform and hung it to dry. Then he got in the shower, letting the hot water wash the rain out of his hair.

It had, quite frankly, been a dismal summer. He had spent much of it alone, while Matt and Stuart were away for their respective holidays, and nobody else was talking to him. Not even Mel, though she hadn't blocked him on social media. Unfriended him, but not blocked him. That, at least, was a good sign, even if she had yet to forgive him.

He had no Mel. No Chas. No Ellie. Stuart was his, though, Stuart would always be his, and he knew that. Matt was . . . complicated. He didn't judge. He was in no position to. And he had been there for Nick, picked up the pieces after the break-up. But it was still awkward, because of Alan, who was, if possible, even angrier with Nick than Dave had been. He knew that Alan and Matt had had a huge fight about it just after it all came out, though they had made up fairly quickly. Nick was grateful for that. He didn't know how he could have lived with himself if he had their break-up on his conscience as well.

And then, there was Brian. Nick wished he could say that he hadn't seen him again. That he'd learned his lesson and stayed away. But in truth, only a week had passed between Dave dumping him and Nick getting drunk alone one night and ringing Brian. They had met up sporadically all summer, to shag and get high. With Brian, Nick could forget. At least for a little while. And there was a certain irony in that. After all, Brian was the cause of it all. The cause, but not to blame. That was all Nick. And that was the worst part. The self-loathing.

No. Not the worst part. The worst part was that he missed Dave so much that he could hardly breathe. He dreamt of him at night. Saw him in crowds, though it was never him. He had seen neither hide nor hair of him all summer. When he got off alone, which he seemed to be doing a lot lately, Dave was all he could see. And every song he had tried to write that summer had been about him.

He had failed all his AS-levels but one. Now, all he had was his music.

After his shower, he went back downstairs and watched TV with Zoë and Richard for a bit. He didn't really pay attention. Didn't really pay attention to anything lately. When he went out into the kitchen to get a bite to eat, Zoë followed him.

'Hey. You okay, sweet?'

Nick smiled at her. He knew it didn't look very genuine, but he did it anyway. 'I'm fine.'

Zoë crossed her arms across her chest. 'No, you're not.'

He shrugged, looking away. 'Does it matter?'

'Of course it matters! You're my brother.' She sighed, running a hand through her red curls. 'Listen, if I'm going back to uni in a couple of weeks, I need to know that you'll be all right.'

'Zoë.' Nick turned towards her. 'I'll be fine. Richard will be here. I'll be working, and playing music, and you'll be here half the time anyway, right?'

'I just wish you'd talk to me. And I wish you wouldn't go to Birmingham and see that guy so often . . . I mean, can I at least meet him soon?'

'He's not my boyfriend, Zoë. We just hang out. It's . . .' He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. 'Look, I need a distraction sometimes, or I'm gonna go insane. He's a good distraction, okay?'