My life used to seem so simple, so happy. I remember when I was in kindergarten; the teacher asked the class, what we all what we wanted to be when we got older. I said I wanted to perform. She suggested that I choose something a little more reasonable, like a fireman or a doctor. But, anyone who knows a Carter knows we’re stubborn as hell. I got my recording contract with Edel Records after opening up for my brother’s band in Europe, when I was in the first grade. My contract ran out four years later and instead of renewing it, my management team, who I refer to as Mom and Dad, decided it would be better for me to work with Jive Records/Zomba Corp.
Now my career is booming, my family however, has just about crumbled. All my mom ever talks about is the business. My father left a short time after my fourteenth birthday, to my dismay Angel went with him. BJ stayed at home to help our mother with Leslie and I. As much as I hurt to see my dad go, I was relieved. I just wanted my parents to stop fighting. Maybe everyone would be happy again. BJ and Leslie make up for it, they are constantly arguing. Nick has been on tour for a year and he won’t be back for another two months. Leaving me to cope with things on my own.
So here I sit, out on a London hotel balcony with a bottle of Coke and a bottle of rum, a one man party, one miserable man. I swish the little of liquid left around in my glass.
“Aaron?” I look up, to see Taylor Hanson leaning against the doorframe. “This isn’t –“
“Donleshermee.”
“Jesus kid, you can’t even talk.”
“Hmfine.” I swallowed the rest of my drink then reached for the bottle of rum. He snatched it from my grasp. “Hey!”
“No. I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. Now, get up.” I cocked my head to the side, looking up at him, as if I didn’t understand. He became hazy as the edges of my vision began to blur. He grabbed my forearms, hauling me to my feet. “You’re going to bed.”
“Hmnatire.”
“Too bad.” He dragged inside and shoved me toward the king-sized bed. He pulled off my shoes and threw them aside.
“Staywitme.”
“Alright.” He reached over to the nightstand to turn off the lamp before heading toward the couch.
I leaned back in the arena seat, rolling my basketball between my hands. I watched as Taylor, Zac and Isaac rehearsed their set. Something in particular caught my eye; a blonde keyboardist who had his gaze fixed on me as he sang,
It’s getting colder in this ditch where I lie,
I’m feeling older and I’m wondering why,
I heard they told it was tell and live or die,
I didn’t know her but I know why she lied,
I didn’t know her but I know why she died
He didn’t look away, not even when the song was through, until Zac spoke.
“Guys, I’m starving. Can we eat?”
“Why don’t you guys go ahead? There’s something I need to do.”
Once his brothers were gone, Taylor jumped down off the stage and started toward me.
“How’re you?” He asked in a soft voice.
“I’m okay. About the other night… I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. Whatever it is that’s going on with you, talk to somebody. A friend, or your brother, or me. But don’t drink. You’ll only hurt yourself in the long run. You’re a good kid. A lot of extremely talented people have lost everything because they made some bad decisions. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
I nodded timidly. He crouched down beside my seat, one hand gripping the arm. The other hand ran through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “Listen, you are very intelligent and mature for your age. You know that it isn’t right, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I studied the cement floor, suddenly very conscious of his blue eyes boring into me.
“Are you hungry?” I said yes, without looking up at him. “Let’s go up to my room. We’ll order room service. Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
We called in for pizza, sodas and a three-layer triple fudge cake. We watched movies until almost midnight, when he kindly asked me to leave because he had an interview in the morning. He seemed like an alright guy. I’d met him when I was little but I mostly hung out with Zac back then, because we were closer in age. But he hasn’t said one word since the tour started. Taylor says he’s had an attitude problem for over a year; apparently fame’s gotten to him. Now he hates the business and almost everyone in it, though he’s even more passionate about his music. I can’t say I blame him, but I don’t think it gives him an excuse to be an asshole.
Lost by PureChaos92
