loosely based on this song.
MODERN HEARTS.
“So, how are things?”
Christian’s voice was staler than the coffee. They sat across from each other at a small diner just outside Franklin. It was fate they’d both been passing through Tennessee at the same time, but Casey had yet to determine whether that was good or bad. So far, bad. He stared out the window, watching a group of bicyclist travel along an otherwise empty road. Without looking over, he gave a shrug. “They’re great.”
“How’s sh*t with Sarah, you all settled into your new place? You need anything?”
It was obvious neither of them knew what to say to each other. Or, they knew, but didn’t want to open the door to a conversation that could further traumatize their friendship. Casey leaned his chin into the palm of his hand, shaking his head. “I’m all settled, I’m good, dude. Sarah’s… probably fine too, I dunno.”
Christian nodded and took a long sip of his coffee. When Casey finally looked over, he caught a grimace, and smirked. “You’re right.”
“This coffee sucks.” Christian’s nose scrunched up, and he scooted it away. “My bad.”
Casey shook his head.
“So, why’d you agree to come meet with me?”
The question came out of the blue, abolishing the small hints of lightheartedness Casey had begun to take solace in. He hadn’t realized how tightly he was clinging to it until it went away, and when it did, he was reminded how vulnerable he was. Christian knew every part of him and then some. He’d seen him at his darkest, and his lightest. And regardless of whether or not Casey looked him in the eye, he could read him like a book. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t have to agree to come talk to me if you didn’t want to,” Christian answered. “From what I can see, you’re still pretty pissed.”
“I am pretty pissed,” Casey blunted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”
Christian gave a small nod, then looked out the window. “I guess it was kind of a d*ck move, huh?”
“Now are you starting to see my issue?” Casey rolled his eyes, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. Pissed off or not, he couldn’t deny the instant karma being somewhat comedic. All the years he spent running around behind peoples’ backs, causing trouble, and he never saw the consequences of it. Looking at the big picture, he knew he deserved it and probably even more.
“I told you I was sorry though,” Christian pointed out. “And said we could still be friends. You said that was cool, and then never texted me back any time I tried.”
“I was pretty clear I needed a break from you,” Casey reminded him. “I said that from the get-go.”
“So, my question still stands then, why’d you come here?”
“Because I don’t want that break anymore? What do you want me to say?” Casey’s eyebrows furrowed. He looked up at Christian, then out the window. “I just literally said I missed you, you want me to come grovel at your feet or with my arms around your waist or somethin’?”
“Okay, okay.” Christian didn’t look at him. He just nodded slowly, continuing to stare at the empty road. He and Christian sat in silence, the clamour of dishes in the kitchen filling the gap their voices left in the air when they ceased.
It was harder than he thought it would be. Maybe it was childish to think they could hug it out, and everything would continue on like normal, or something close.
“You remember like a year ago, we met up in New York while you were on tour?” Christian asked, his voice almost completely concealed by the clamoring and the sounds of other voices as the cafe began to fill up. Casey registered it a few seconds late, but then suddenly looked over.
“And I said I wasn’t gonna be the one who f***ed you up?” Christian continued.
A fire ignited in Casey’s chest, the memory of it stinging more than he was prepared for. He went on lockdown, teeth clenched, posture suddenly straightening. “Okay, where are you going with this?”
“I’m getting there, I’m getting there.” Christian held a hand out, urgent but tender. The sharp look in his eyes kept Casey from snapping at him. “I’m sorry I did anyway. I really am. I know how f***ed up that probably looked, and I get that. I thought I wasn’t afraid of what would happen, but I was, and when it all happened, I ran. Because that’s what I’m good at doing.”
”Running?”
“Yup. Been doin’ it my whole life.” Christian rolled his eyes, smiling. “When things get hard, I take off. I always really envied you because you just tackle all your confrontations head-on. If someone comes at you, you stay, and you work it out.”
“I’m not sure about that…” Casey mused, lowering his eyes.
“I am. Maybe you couldn’t confront Sarah, but you didn’t really run from ‘er either. And when people were giving you hell, you stayed quiet, and you kept doing what you were doing. I can’t do that.”
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“Sure. We have reputations to uphold, I get it. I got it from the get-go.”
“Nah, it’s not just that, take your mental block off for a sec. I’m talking about me personally here. Not me, fame me.”
Casey wanted to argue that there would always be a link there, but instead he decided to hear Christian out.
“I run whenever anyone confronts me about anything, so when this came up, I couldn’t handle it. I usually don’t feel bad about doing that, but this time it hurt you, and I’m sorry for it. I hate what it did to you.”
Casey pursed his lips together. He wanted to ask, but couldn’t. And Christian, again with his uncanny ability to read him, went on. “You would have never shut me out like this before, and I don’t blame you, but I hate that. You would have probably never ended up in the hospital, or any of that sh*t either.”
“Guess that’s your karma,” Casey muttered. “And mine’s watching you move on without me.”
“You’re saying there’s no hope for us?”
Casey shrugged. “I wanna still be friends,” he admitted. “You’re one of the only people in the world I feel like I can tell anything to, so… I don’t obviously wanna let that go. But you’re right, we’d be stupid to think it could be like it was. It’d be naive to assume anyone would let us have that, huh?”
“And it’d be naive to think we’d be above caring about our public image,” Christian jabbed, smirking.
“Told you I get it.”
“Yeah…” Christian looked out the window again.
Casey breathed a deep sigh through his nose. “I do miss you.”
“I miss you too, kid.” Christian smiled. “But we still got each other. Right?”
“Yeah.” Casey started to stand, tucking his chair into the table. “I’ll pick up this,” he offered, motioning toward the coffees neither finished.
“Thanks for taking one for the team.” Christian came around the table. When they hugged, it was like nothing changed. For at least a few seconds, Casey could close his eyes and pretend they still had time to fix everything, though the reality beyond that felt like a barren wasteland. “So we’re okay? Kinda?” Christian asked.
“We’re okay. Kinda.” When they parted, Casey finally smiled. “I just needed a little time is all. Love you still, Chris.”
“Yeah, you too. A hell of a lot. I’ll text you.”
“Sure. I promise to actually reply this time.”