Zac kept his promise. He went back every single Friday. This gesture invaded Taylor's défenses: Zac cared. He was coming back every week because he cared. This was a difficult concept for Taylor's empty mind to grasp. No. He thought. I am unlovable. He's only trying to get me to come back to practice for the show next week. It was true, they were performing for Art and Friends in a week, but he so desperately didn't want to.
The idea of going to practice floated around his mind, brushing past his heavy, tormenting thoughts he was so accustomed to. Maybe he should go, just for this week, just for this show. One show and for the distant future, he would have to do nothing other than lay in bed.
When he did show up the next day, he had to wait outside the door for a few minutes, simply breathing, until he heard from the inside, Hayley's voice. He had almost forgotten how he hurt her. The serene sound of her voice weakened the strong walls he'd built up.
"Hayley, please can we just wait 10 more minutes. I have a good feeling about today—"
"We've been doing this for weeks. Face it, Zac. He's not coming. He doesn't care," Taylor could tell she was angry. Regret filled his mind, maybe he was better off in bed alone.
"Well I do care. I don't know what happened with you two but something is destroying him and I'm not going to sit around and let this happen!" He yelled at her. She felt tears prick at her eyes — angry tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wanted to scream about how she didn't know what happened either and how upset she felt that Taylor was acting like this, but there was no way she was going to be seen as weak.
"He doesn't care. We're cancelling the show. Go home,"
It wasn't that Taylor had wanted to, but he walked back to his car, feeling the little hope he had obliterated by Hayley's lack thereof. His plan was to wait in the car for however long he needed.
So Taylor waited, but Hayley didn't. She stormed out of the studio, not seeing Taylor's car until she had already slammed the door and was halfway to her car. Zac spotted the car out of the window, and quickly made a decision to push further. Keep encouraging him.
He walked through the warm summertime air, feeling this sense of hope he was clinging on to, the hope that had been fading from all three. He felt his hand open the door and his eyes connect with Taylor's. He offered a smile, a small one, but the fact that it was there at all shocked Taylor.
None of the three could anticipate what either of their own or each other's next moves would be. Zac wanted to smile and tell Taylor that he was so happy he came. Hayley wanted to go home to cry and scream because she didn't understand how she always managed to fuck things up. And Taylor...well Taylor wasn't sure. He wanted to go with Zac, to his safe place, his salvation in music, but part of him was screaming that he was obviously a bother to them and they should just cancel the whole event.
"Im so proud of you, Taylor. Do you want to come in?" Zac followed through.
The now tearful woman couldn't hear what was being said, but with Zac's lips moving and a glance over at her, she had a feeling she wasn't wanted, so she threw her bag in the car and climbed in, letting her frustrated tears fall once she was far enough away. Hayley followed through.
Taylor didn't respond to Zac's words. He simply sat in silence, staring at the wheel. His mind going back and forth as to whether he could go in.
Go in, play guitar, feel alive...or go home, keep being a coward and hiding from your problems.
Speak to Zac...or tell him to get out and maybe just drive off a bridge.
Don't drive off a bridge and power through the dark days...or embrace it and let it ruin everything.
Zac got in the car and they ended up sitting there for 45 minutes in silence, but Zac didn't care. In the end, finally Taylor won the argument with himself to go in with Zac. The familiar smell of the studio comforted him and encouraged him to play his guitar.
"This is the setlist," he found the usual while reading down, until he got to one song.
"Tell me how?"
"It's the last show of this...this whole album cycle and we haven't played it so Hayley suggested we do," Taylor hadn't played that song in years so he was hoping he could just play from muscle memory. He sat at the keyboard and stared, waiting for his hands to start moving. Eventually they did, and he seemed to remember how to play it with a few mistakes here and there.
Taylor went through and practiced every song he needed to, then went home. A place where excitement once lingered in the air and he felt safe — now the feeling of being at home was suffocating him. When he arrived, he felt just as empty as he had every other day of his recent life.
