What Happens in Vancouver...

Chapter 10: Social Disease

Try to run but you're always behind it
So you play hide and seek like a blind kid
Until you're caught - yeah you're caught

The four of you were sitting in the little restaurant Richie had spotted earlier.

You don't know how, but Jon ended up sitting next to you; not that you were complaining after all, his position making it a lot easier to not look at him – but having him right there close to you tightened your guts in a way you tried to ignore the best you could.

Even if he had eaten this afternoon, Richie, in front of you, had just finished a plate that you would have taken two days to end, and the waitress had just cleared the table.

Your brother hummed: "Oh, I talked with Doc before you arrived this morning, guys. But he asked me something I didn't get..."

David hummed, waiting for the rest and Jon grabbed his glass.

"He talked about money of the record company we spent, like a rather big amount, the first evening in Vancouver that we haven't paid back yet- Ugh..."

He had been interrupted by a shower of beer Jon spitted on his whole front.

Your first reaction had been to open wide eyes that you tried to control so much they got full of tears and David suddenly got very interested in the patterns of the tablecloth.

"Sorry man, I... It went down the wrong way."

Richie passed his napkin on his face and eyed his stained t-shirt. "That's alright... So, I was saying. Do you remember that? I was so shitfaced, honestly."

A smile had reappeared on his face and he seemed to not take it seriously, so you hoped the conversation would die there. He opened his mouth, and by fear it would be the same subject, you tried: "So, today you shot the cover of the album, that's it? Or the inside of the sleeve?"

David nodded a bit to quickly to be innocent even though you had put two different questions, and you said: "Oh, nice." You released a breath as Richie didn't carry on on the bills and you added: "So, you with barely dressed women will be the cover of the album?"

You had said that shrugging, finding it rather funny in the end, but Jon didn't get it that way: "And? You thought the cover was going to be a garbage bag with the title written on it?"

Both David and Richie raised eyebrows to him, not getting why he had reacted like that. You were taken aback, first by his tone, secondly because you thought he would have gotten you had talked about that to literally save his – and your – ass.

"Jon, it wasn't criticism-"

"You think? I can feel it, it's a reproach. You're not being honest."

There was an urge in his voice, like he didn't want to say that and regretted each word as soon as they left his mouth, but it didn't matter for you.

"Oh, yeah? I'm not being honest? Do you want to talk about honesty, Jon?"

David gulped and Richie was clueless, not getting this nebulous conversation looking full of resentment and the fact that both of you were literally looking in the opposite direction even though you were arguing.

This situation was unbearable, and you let out everything you were feeling since that morning in Vancouver by looking into Richie's eyes and saying those words: "Jon and I got married."

A silence fell on the little table, David's eyes roaming the three of you, Jon gulping so loudly you heard it and Richie blinked several times in row, like he was trying to wake up from a dream.

Jon closed his eyes, ready to take a punch, but nothing happened. David was still anxiously looking at the three of you successively, not knowing if he should intervene.