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Author's Chapter Notes:
the plot thickens, I guess :)
Most of the drive to Illinois happens in silence. Mostly because I try to avoid all signs of conversation. Roland has apparently stopped trying to make me talk and just stares at the road ahead, a stoic expression coating his features. My best guess is that he’s some kind of FBI-dude from the future, judging on the way he claimed my car to be ‘old’, while it is a brand new 2013 model. The overflowing knowledge of the timelines also suggests that he’s done this quite a few times before. There’s something about him though, something really strange, but yet familiar. It’s like a giant déjà vu whenever I look at him, as if we’ve met somewhere, sometime, but I can’t remember exactly where and when.

Finally, I break the silence when I suddenly remember something, “I was supposed to go to Indiana! Everybody has to be worried sick!” I shoot upright from my slumped position in the passenger seat, instantly rummaging through the glove-box in search of my phone. Of course I don’t find it there and my shoulders slump when I hear Roland’s voice, “I’m afraid I left your phone on Bendrick Road.”

I let myself fall back into the seat, sighing, “You know, some people would consider this kidnap.”

“I’m aware.”

“They must think I’ve disappeared as well. You know they’re gonna come looking for me, right?” I muse, hoping it’s true. Considering nobody really put any effort in finding Brian, I’m kind of afraid how they handle it if they think I followed into his footsteps. On the other hand, I haven’t really done anything that would make them happy I was gone, unlike my bandmate.

“By that time we’ll be done,” Roland promises and I roll my eyes.

“Why are we even going there?” I squeak, afraid of the answer.

“We’re gonna talk,” Roland growls, “You and I are gonna have a word with that kid about what happened.”

“He’s gonna kick us right back out,” I scoff, shaking my head.

“Maybe not,” my companion mumbles.

“Is that what the blood is for?” I challenge, turning to look at him. He keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t answer, “What? Are you gonna scare him or something?”

“Or something.”

I bite my lip hard. Something stinks really bad about all this. Of course I’d like to know why Brian did what he did as well. It all seems so random and so completely out of character that I still can’t believe it, although it has been well over five weeks ago.

“I wish things would just go back to normal,” I admit with a sigh.

Roland nods, understanding. “I know,” he grumbles, then finally looks at me, his blue eyes boring into mine, “Nick, I’mma ask you a few questions and I need you to be completely honest, alright?”

“Like how you’ve been completely honest with me, Roland?” I comment, spitting out his fake name for good measure.

He sighs, “I’ll tell you everything once the time calls for it, it’s just best for now if you know as little as possible-”

“Because of the timeline, yeah, I heard you the first time,” I mutter, “Fine, what would you like to know that you don’t already know?” I ask, curious now. Roland always seemed to know more about anything than I did. What could possibly be in my knowledge that isn’t in his?

“I need to know when you’ve noticed a change in Brian’s attitude for the first time, and what it was like.”

“Like what?”

“Like something really radical, completely out of character, something that made you wanna check if he was still the same person or not,” Roland supplies, setting his jaw.

I sigh, watching the road stretch out before us, my mind wandering to a few months earlier, at a concert venue somewhere in Europe.



“When’s the after-party t’night?” he asks me, nervously hopping from one foot to the other, making me wonder if he maybe needs to pee.

“Eleven thirty,” I say, yelling over the loud music that fills the stadium, “Why?”

“Got room for one more?” he asks, eagerly watching my face.

“Since when do you do after-parties?” I question, dumbfounded.

Brian rolls his eyes, nervously watching the back-rows of the venue, “Since now,” he sneers, “Can I get in or not?”

“I thought your son was flying in tonight?” I hesitate, “Aren’t you supposed to be with him?” I frown, watching his agitated attitude with concern. I’ve tried dragging him to a few after-parties in the past. He never stayed longer than thirty minutes, later claiming never to go again. Obviously I’ve never understood his reluctance to go, but that didn’t mean I didn’t find it particularly strange that he was practically begging me now to let him come.

“Who cares, I’ll get him a sitter,” he mutters.

I’m too surprised to react instantly, my eyebrows nearly shooting through the roof. Never thought, or hoped, I’d see the day Brian would choose the club-scene over his family. Not at all if he knew his wife was going to give him hell about it.

“Ah- I- uh… okay,” I stammer instead.



“It was really weird, you know,” I say softly, still frowning. “He would show, all hyped up. You know, more than usual, which is a lot. Like he was on something real stronger than just coffee. I don’t think I actually expected him to show up at all.”

Roland nods, motioning for me to continue with an unreadable expression on his face, “When was this?”

“I dunno, like five or six months ago. It only got worse from there on out. He would show up late, or not at all, leaving us with thousands of disappointed, questioning fans. I think we actually got sued once or twice. He didn’t know, didn’t care either,” the hate in my voice betrays me, “then the charges started piling up. Assault, driving under influence, drugs possession, prostitution, I could go on and on,” I blurt out, finally noticing the silent tears running down my face, “it’s like… the exact opposite of everything he’s ever stood for.” I don’t say it felt like watching me, AJ and my little brother combined. A catastrophic loss of control and a desperate cry for attention.

Unlike my helpless tears, Roland’s face is the perfect definition of anger. He’s gotten a few tints more red, clutching the steering wheel so tight his knuckles have gone white. It’s usually quite hard to read his expression with the unkempt beard covering half of his face, but this time, it’s clear as daylight, as the emotions are pouring out of the look in his eyes. Hatred. “That little fucker,” he mutters under his breath, but I don’t have to strain to be able to hear it. “Any idea why he’s gone down this path?”

“None,” I sigh, wishing I could say I did, “first I assumed he just needed to blow off a little steam. He’s been really stressed out the past few… well … years, actually. You know, with his voice being screwed to hell and all,” I add. We used to tiptoe around the subject, trying to convince him it wasn’t so bad, that it most definitely would go better next time, but we all knew the truth, and Brian knew it better than anyone. “But he would never abandon his family, not in the way he has, anyway.”

“But he did, five weeks ago, correct?” Roland grumbles, his voice biting back on the hate he tries to hide in vain.

“Yeah, he just… disappeared. Nobody knows why, or where he is. I guess we’re all just kind of scared we’re gonna find him lying dead in a dish sooner or later. I wish I could understand what he thinks he’s doing.”

I can’t help but feel like a bit of a hypocrite, as I realize people must have said something in the same sense about me all those years ago. I just always assumed Brian knew better, as he was always the one caught in the middle of all of it. You’d think we’d know what to do by now if one of our own got caught inside a downwards spiral, but time after time, we are just outsiders, trying to hold up the last strings connecting us to sanity.

I snap out of my thoughts as I notice Roland banging the steering wheel with his fists in frustration, giving way to a string of swears. The hostility in his gaze scares me as I watch his angry face in shock. “A-are you okay?” I ask tentatively.

“This has gone on long enough…” he growls, his voice hoarse, “I’m ending it.”

I try not to let him notice he’s scaring the hell out of me as I sit back uneasily. “Please don’t hurt him, okay?” I wheeze pathetically, knowing by now Roland is capable of anything at this stage.

“Nick, listen,” he sighs, “Some things need to be done in order to help him. Not all of those things will make sense to you, but it’s for the best, keep that in mind. I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m gonna tell you,” he states, looking into my face with an intense stare that seems so familiar it instantly takes my breath away.

“Oh-okay,” I squeeze out, feeling my entire body tense up.

It takes a few moments before Roland continues talking, “the Brian you just described to me is a whole different person than the one you know.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I scoff.

“No Nick, damn it! I mean, for real! It’s not Brian, hasn’t been him for six months, apparently. It’s someone else.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying he has a twin brother all of a sudden or something?” I laugh nervously.

“Or something.”