Fame (12 page)

On his way up the stairs, he saw opened cups of soup that were either barely touched, or completely consumed. Some looked like they were only a couple of days old, giving Grey hope that he might find Rook.
 

The upstairs wasn’t very big at all; it only had three rooms, one was his dad’s, one was a bathroom, and the last one was Rook’s old room. He walked past the bathroom and noticed a brown film in the sink that didn’t seem sanitary, so he quickly walked past it and cracked the door to Rook’s room. It was dark, due to the shades being closed, so Grey quickly walked over to the window and let the light pour in.
 

When the room was lit up with sunlight, Grey was taken aback. Rook’s room was full of trash, used condoms, empty bags of white substance, and once again, more needles. The sight was sickening, to know that what used to be a child’s room was now scattered with such disease. Not wanting to run his hands over any trash, in case of an unfortunate needle prick, Grey grabbed a baseball bat and started poking around. There was no bed and no real furniture, just mounds and mounds of trash. It was absolutely appalling.
 

Clearing the room, Grey was about to walk out, when he saw a small door in the corner. Wondering where it led, he cautiously opened it and found that it was a closet with a bunch of old flannel shirts hung in it, and more blankets and trash at the bottom. He poked the blanket, but didn’t see anything, so he was about to shut the door when the shine of a spoon on the floor caught his eye.
 

He bent down to take a look at it and noticed it was still wet; that was weird. Grey grabbed ahold of the flannels, took them off the rack, and tossed them to the side. When he looked back in the closet, he saw a small wooden board that was propped up between the walls, hiding something, so Grey moved the blankets with the bat and then grabbed ahold of the wood. He tossed it to the side, and when he turned to look at what was behind it, he startled from the sight of Rook curled up in a ball on the floor, gripping onto another baseball bat and rocking back and forth.
 

“Holy fuck,” Grey muttered, as he leaned down and tried to cautiously approach his friend. “Rook, it’s me, it’s Grey.”

Grey gently placed his hand on Rook’s back, which was a bad move, because he quickly shot up and started swinging his bat, screaming.
 

“Don’t touch me, don’t fucking touch me. I swear I didn’t steal your drugs, I didn’t.”

Tears fell down Rook’s face as he looked delusional and skinnier than Grey remembered. Grey scrambled out of the way and held up his hands as Rook continued to swing.
 

“Just leave me alone.”

“Rook,” Grey said in a calming voice. “It’s Grey Cross, your best friend. Put down the bat, buddy. Your dad died, remember? He’s not here; he can’t hurt you.”

Realization flashed over Rook’s eyes as clarity hit him. The bat fell from his grasp and his hands flew to his face as he eased down the wall and sat back down on the floor. Quiet sobs came from Rook, and just from the sight of him, Grey’s heart lurched in his chest. He couldn’t imagine the emotional turmoil he was going through.
 

He lost the one and only thing that mattered to him because he was trying to save her, and now he had to live with his choices…and his choices were slowly killing him.
 

Still cautious, Grey knelt down and placed his hand on Rook’s knee. “Hey, buddy, I want to get you out of here. It’s not healthy, not just because the place is a disaster, but it’s not mentally healthy.”

“I have nowhere to go, nothing to live for,” he said, as he hung his head. His voice was scratchy as he spoke, as if he hadn’t spoken in days, maybe even months.

“You have everything to live for, Rook, and you’re staying with me at my parents. I have a bed ready for you and a clean room and clothes. Please, come back with me.”

“I can’t. I just fucking can’t,” Rook said, defeated.
 

“You can, Rook. You deserve more than this. If anything, do it for the guys; we care about you and have been worried sick. We need you, buddy, not just for the band, fuck the band, we just need you in our lives. You’re our brother.”

Rook’s head slowly tilted up and Grey finally saw the dark circles under his eyes and the beard that was caressing his face. His hair was longer and he looked almost unrecognizable. Grey hid the cringe from his face at taking in the deteriorated look of one of his best friends.
 

“Please, come with me, Rook.”

Grey held out his hand, and Rook took a long look at it before placing his hand In Grey’s, so he could lift him off the ground. The first thing Grey noticed when Rook stood up was the way his pants hung off his sunken hips. His upper body was still muscular, but he could definitely eat a burger or five.
 

Grey looked around and said, “We don’t need to grab anything, do we?”

Rook leaned down and plucked a notebook off the ground and held it to his chest. “This is all I need.”

Nodding his head, Grey helped Rook out of the house and made sure to talk to Pete about getting rid of the rotten home. Rook didn’t need it hovering over his head; the house needed to be gone, off of his plate, and out of his life. All the house was doing to Rook was destroying him, minute by ugly fucking minute.
 

When Grey got Rook situated in his car, he sent a text to his mom that he was bringing Rook home with him, and he needed some clothes and a room to sleep in. His mom texted back that she would have everything ready for Rook in half an hour.
 

When Grey got into the car, he was hit by the stench that was Rook. Politely, he started his car and rolled down the windows.
 

With an apologetic look, Grey tossed Rook a side smile and said, “Sorry, dude, but you kind of smell like rotten ass.”

A small smile crossed Rook’s lips as he leaned his head back against the head rest and said, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Feeling confident with Rook’s new demeanor, Grey pulled away from the house that haunted Rook and vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep Rook as far away from his old dwelling as possible.
 

They drove down Interstate 5 and listened to music as the air whipped through the rolled down windows. Rook stared out the passenger side, with his arm resting on the door frame. He looked almost content; it was odd to see such a quick transition from a scared man, crying out for his dad not to hurt him, to a relaxed one.
 

A sign for an In and Out indicated that there was one in a mile, so Grey cut to the right hand lane of the 5 freeway and got off at the exit. With excellent maneuvering, Grey pulled into the In and Out and rolled up to the drive through. Before he pulled up, he grabbed a hat and sunglasses from his glove box and put them on.
 

Rook gave him a questionable look, and Grey clarified, “I don’t need people noticing me right now. We don’t have a problem with them recognizing you, since you look like a Goddamn drunken yeti.”

That garnered a chuckle out of Rook, as he nodded his head and looked over at where they were.
 

“Not hungry,” he said curtly, as his gaze retuned to the outside.
 

“Don’t fucking care. You’re two days away from being able to fit into a teenage girl’s pants.”

“That statement sounds so wrong,” Rook countered.
 

“You’re eating,” Grey countered back, not wanting to clarify himself.
 

After pulling through the drive-through, Grey tossed two double doubles, animal style, minus the tomato, along with animal style fries and a large Neapolitan milkshake, over to Rook.
 

“If you don’t eat that by the time I get to my house, my mom is going to hand feed it to you, so you can either feed yourself like a big boy, or have my mom coo all over you while making choo choo noises and feeding you fry by fry.”

“Well…fuck,” Rook said, as he opened the bag and took out a burger. He took a big bite, and then returned his gaze back out the window.
 

Grey wanted to ask him what the hell he was thinking, what was going through his head, but the boy was eating, Grey didn’t want to push his luck. He was going to settle with the fact that he found Rook, had him in his possession, and was feeding him. Talking would come later; for now, he was going to focus on just getting the man showered, shaved, and healthy.
 

**Rook**

Journal Entry #171

Showers make a difference in the way a person feels. I’m sitting on a comfortable twin bed, I’m showered and shaved, my hair is pushed out of my face temporarily, and I have clean clothes on my back. My stomach is full, and I have caring people watching over me. I should feel happy; I should feel saved, but I don’t. I feel the damn same, but instead of being able to hide in my dark hole where no one can see me, I feel exposed.
 

I tried to show my gratefulness to Grey for bringing me into his home, but all I want to do is leave. I tried to leave after my shower, but Grey gave me that look, that pleading look that said, “Don’t leave me.”

The poor bastard is hurting too, but in a different way. I saw right past his Quinn façade. He didn’t love her; I knew he didn’t. What’s hurting him is his need for Willow, like my need for Maisy, but the difference between Grey and I is that he can live his life without Willow. I can’t live my life without my edgy angel. She is my breath, my very soul; life doesn’t exist without her in it. Simple as that.
 

Chapter Six

**Cruz**

Brunch was all set, but Willow and her friend were nowhere to be found. Cruz felt like a total tool holding brunch at his house for Willow, but usually brunch turned into a fuck fest that led to sticky maple syrup sex and donut blow jobs. How could he not hold brunch with a lineup like that?

Cruz had begun to really love Sundays, but not hearing from Willow in a couple of days, coupled with the fact that she’d invited a friend, made Cruz grumpy, because he knew the Sunday he was looking forward to wasn’t going to be the Sunday he wanted.
 

Good news came last night when Grey called Cruz to let him know he’d found Rook. Apparently, the fucker had lodged himself in the depths of his closet, so that was why Cruz kept missing him when he checked Rook’s old house. The only reason Grey was clued in on someone being in the house was because of a wet spoon, a fucking wet spoon. Apparently, Cruz wasn’t that observant; he wasn’t prepared to look for wet spoons.
 

It didn’t matter who found him, because Rook was alive, thank God, and he was being watched over by Grey, the most responsible one in the group. Grey was going to get Rook to go to the Grammys and clean the boy up. Apparently, according to Grey, the guy smelled like absolute piss and looked like a deranged yeti. Cruz begged for pictures for blackmail purposes, but Grey seemed to think it was insensitive. Fuck that, that’s what the group did; they picked on each other. It would be more like a welcome home. It was almost unnatural not to give each other grief, especially when they let themselves turn into psychotic mountain men.
 

Checking his phone again, Cruz huffed because Willow still hadn’t texted him back. The silence was starting to get on his nerves. Had she found someone else? The thought of her with another man was annoying to think of, because he was a desperate man, and he didn’t have another woman lined up. He needed a good fuck, badly.

There was a knock on his door that pulled him from his thoughts.
 

“Finally,” he muttered to himself, even though it was only ten minutes past their designated brunch time.
 

When he opened the door, he wasn’t greeted by Willow’s bright blonde and pink hair; no, he was staring down at an olive-skinned girl with long black hair that fell to her waist; a pair of deep brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, stared back up at him.

A little taken aback, Cruz looked around for a second and said, “Can I help you?”

She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and looked up at him with some of the longest natural eyelashes he had ever seen. “Um, hi, I’m Maelani. I’m looking for Willow and her friend Cruz, I believe.”

The first thing that took Cruz by surprise, besides the fact that she was absolutely stunning, was that she was staring directly at him, but had no clue who he was…not that he needed people to recognize him, but it just surprised him. The second thing was the petite frame on the girl, but she was blessed with one of the most amazing racks he had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but stare at them.
 

“Are they not here?” the girl asked nervously, as she shifted from side to side.
 

Cruz cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, I’m Cruz. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, sorry about that; I wasn’t quite sure who I was meeting today,” she said with a slight smile.
 

“That’s okay. Willow isn’t here yet, but you can come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“She’s not here?” Maelani asked nervously, while she looked around. “Well, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not at all,” Cruz opened his door and gestured for her to come in.