Broken Record

5

Warning: Contains adult language and sexual content!

-Dylan-

I've been to a dozen feasts and dinner parties growing up. Most were with family. I did notice during that time in particular that there was always that one or two get togethers that wasn't intriguing and everyone was just there to eat, like, there's absolutely no real conversations at all? 

This one with my bandmates had taken the cake. 

Today was infuriating from the get go. I got discharged from the hospital this morning. Normally anyone would say that's a kick ass moment there and one should celebrate. The joy was cut short real fast with my experience. 

It's hard to explain why but since I was hospitalized, I suddenly have this silly fear of cars, well anything that has wheels and goes vroom vroom, for that matter. I can see a car drive by at a safe distance, that won't bother me much, but actually sitting in one, even if it's parked, is completely out of the question. The guys even tried to coax me onto the bus and I was having none of it. Then, Jordon had to be a dickhole. He forced me inside the coach by carrying me over his shoulder. After that, he got mad at me for being upset. 

To add the sugar on top of this bowl of inconveniences, he told me that Jay has been jerking me off and sucking my dick when I'm not awake. At first, I didn't believe it nor did I want to, but when Jorel made a look of shock and a little bit of guilt, it's like his face spoke for him. 

That moment is when like 20 different emotions passed through me at once. I was confused of why, of all people, he has the hots for me? I was angry because I'm straight. I was confused again because for some reason the thought of Jorel going down on me... sort of turned me on? Lastly, I was just sad. I wasn't awake during any of these alleged actions. Jay has kept all of this a secret when he's supposed to be my best friend. It might've been different if he was up front and honest with me, for fucks sake, just admit that you kind of like me more than a friend. Or, yet again, maybe not. 

All I know is that we're currently into the 20 minute mark of this awkward silent eye glaring meal and I'm rightfully furious with both him and Jordon. Our manager has us seated about 5 feet from each other. We decide to sit and eat in the living room of the band house since sitting within arm's reach at a dining room table is out of the equation. The silence was broken with a throat clear.

"Okay now that we're eating and calming down. I want to maturely discuss what occurred back on the bus." Our manager starts.

"What happened was the most unreal thing I've ever seen grown men do. It never should have happened from the start. Dylan, I know what you are going through, and there is no blame to you whatsoever. You aren't being punished for anything. However, I do want you to rest and not tour or perform until you start seeing a therapist. You do have PTSD along with other things and that won't go away on it's own. It's okay to seek help."

I was afraid he's going to say that. I don't want to seek help because I feel like nothing is severely wrong. It's just anxiety and I know whoever I talk to will only prescribe me Xanax and send me on my way. Also talking to a counselor means that I am crazy. I don't want to deal with laying on a couch and looking at black blobs that look like repressed memories for 30 minutes. 

I know if I try hard enough I'll get over this fear. I just hope it's sooner rather than later. I only nod to get him to stop talking to me directly. He turns to look at Jordon.

"As for you. I don't get why you blew off on Dylan and Jorel. You had no business to say that out loud, especially when you have no physical proof. What you guys do outside of work is your business and it's not nice to air other people's wrong doings to the entire band."