Tales From the Dragon Cave

Summer • B e n

"Sounds sick," Platz says when I come out of the recording booth.

"Ever just wish we could leave it like that?" I say with a smirk, looking at our happy little drum and bass track on the screen.

He rolls his eyes. "All the time. But hey, we signed up for this. You know the fate of the rock rhythm section."

I sigh and sit down next to him, not quite sure I'm joking anymore. "I know. But do you ever...I don't know..."

"Get jealous? Of course. Doesn't help that us and them are as similar as night and day."

Dan and Wayne, he means. They're like aliens to me sometimes, honestly. I mean, we all have a lot in common and we all understand each other well. But there's parts of them that I just don't get. The way they look sick and shut down when a room fills with people. Or the way they write, like every heaviness and darkness in the world has found its way into their demos. Or how they hardly even try to make other friends, they're just inseparable with each other. They have some deeper connection that I don't have with anyone, not with Platz, not with any other best friend I've had in my life.

They're dark. We're light. Hell, you can see that from the clothes we wear.

"I just...they're stuck in their own little world sometimes. It's like we don't even exist."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. It frustrates me sometimes. And Wayne wasn't always like that," he says.

That's true. He was a little more loosened up in college. Still shy, of course, but he definitely wasn't as introspective as he is now. And I don't know whether age did that to him or whether Dan did. We showed up in Vegas and it was like he'd known Dan his whole life and us for a minute.

"He's happier now though," I say.

"Yeah, sometimes. The rest of the time he's worrying his brains out over Dan."

"Aren't we all?" I laugh a little and then feel bad that I did. He has no control over it, I know that. But sometimes I can't help but wish we weren't four guys in black skinny jeans singing about blood and demons. It's not who I am. It's not who Platz is. But it's who we are because it's who Dan is.

I tried to have this conversation with Wayne once and we ended up nearly yelling at each other. He loves him far too much to see anything negative about him. And sometimes I think he loves him too much to see anyone else. Or maybe I'm just too selfish.

"Ben."

"I know, I know...but you're lying if you say you've never just wanted to lose it on him, okay? Or you've never felt like no one gives a damn about your problems because he's such a...a mess."

"I have. But that's...it's not his fault, you can't blame him for it. And you can't blame Wayne for wanting to take care of him because he feels like he needs to. Hey, I feel the same way about you."

"You do not," I scoff, turning my attention to the screen so he can't see my cheeks turn red.

"Different situations, I guess, but...look, if I got in a bar fight at two in the morning and called you and said some guy gave me a black eye, you'd-"

"Find the son of a bitch and punch his face in."

"See?"

I roll my eyes and Platz sighs.

"It's tough, I get that. You know they'll always have more shit to deal with than we do. But that doesn't change the fact that your shit is the most important shit to me," he says.

"Better throw another 'shit' in there so you don't sound like a girl," I smirk.

"I love you!" he shouts, sounding frustrated. "You know we're only having this conversation because we're jealous of them that they're not too fucking insecure to have emotions and to talk and to show affection for each other and to say nice things. You're my best friend, I fucking love you, I should be able to say that when I'm not drunk and you should be able to look me in the eye and fucking say you love me too."

I'm silent for a while, then finally I whisper, "I love you too."

"Act like you mean it."

I turn to face him and hold his gaze while I repeat, "I love you too."

He nods and then looks down at his feet. An uncomfortable silence hangs between us. How do they act like this all the time?

"Should we like...hug or something?" I say. He shrugs.

"I guess."

So we hug. Or something.

Open up your eyes, open up your mind...