Broken Strings

Seventeen

Brock

Fame always brings loneliness. Success is as cold and lonely as the north pole – Vicki Baum

"You're just going to lay there all day?" Brock asked as he tugged on one of his sneakers. On the other side of the doorway connecting the two hotel rooms, Jay was lying face-up on the bed in a pair of grey sweat pants. His chest was bare and he had an arm thrown over his eyes, concealing them from the overhead light above.

"Everything hurts," Jay groaned. "I might just lay here for the rest of my life."

"Need me to get you anything? Muscle relaxants? Advil?"

"Just a coffin. You know, in case I die while you're gone."

Brock laughed, grinning as Jay grimaced. "That's a little overdramatic even for an actor, don't you think?"

Jay lifted his arm up enough to glare at where Brock was shoving his foot into his second shoe. "You'd be saying worse if you felt as sore as I do. Ginger wasn't lying when she said I'd be stiff today. I think a board of wood would be more relaxed and flexible than I am right now."

"How'd the first lesson go by the way? Aside from the horrible after-effects of today, of course." Brock leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at his friend. Jay had hardly moved since waking up that morning. He'd been persuaded to take a hot shower but it seemed to have done very little to help ease the strain on his muscles.

"Horses are no joke, dude. I know Gypsy was gentle but man it seemed like a far fall to the ground."

Brock had to bite his lip to hold his smile in. All he could say was, "Rather you than me."

"Ginger's a good teacher though."

"Oh yeah?"

Jay hummed under his breath and a quieter look crossed his face. Softened his expression and the lines of discomfort vanished a bit. Replaced by intrigue. "Yeah. She's interesting, too."

"How so?"

For a moment, Jay was silent to the point where Brock wasn't sure that he would answer. Then, he slowly sat up. Wincing, he brushed his fingers through his messy dark hair. "She reminds me of Claire."

"Huh. Do they look similar?"

"No. It's in the... demeanour."

Shadows darkened Jay's normally bright green eyes. Brock almost felt bad for asking about the girl that had broken Jay's heart a few years ago but it also seemed like his friend needed to get this off his chest.  He'd never had the chance to meet Claire personally but though Jay had been scarred enough by her that he'd fled from New York to L.A., the man had never said anything remotely horrible about her.  In fact, Brock had only ever heard kind things pass through Jay's lips whenever Claire came up in conversation.

Even though he was supposed to be meeting Bailey soon, Brock took a couple of steps into the room and collapsed into the desk chair.  "Good reminder or bad?"

"Good, I think. One of the best parts about Claire was that she was upfront with me. Never cared about sparing my feelings because I was famous and whatnot. Ginger's the same. She's already told me off more than a few times. I'm pretty sure that she also thinks I'm an egotistical self-absorbed dick – but that's beside the point."

"Why would she think that? What did you do?"

Jay sighed. "I asked her a couple of personal questions and she freaked out. Accused me of fishing for stories to mock normal with during talk show interviews."