Tuesday night The Avalon threw a birthday party for Trevor. The band tried telling the manager that Trevor was in Miami—so hold the party till next week. But next week was too late.
Alison Rivera, the young, blonde manager, had already advertised the event as: Didn’t You Know? Trevor’s a Scorpio! “Next week,” she said, “we’ll be in Sagittarius.”
The idea (Trevor being Scorpio, exclamation mark) so embarrassed Brian he wanted to disappear. He didn’t enjoy going to Awake’s every performance. But they needed him; he drove the van and carried equipment. And he couldn’t quit just because he felt abashed. Hailey was singing back-up despite having told her brothers: no more.
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The birthday banner embarrassed Brian until the video caused him much more searing embarrassment. While the band played, Alison Rivera showed a video of Trevor on three huge screens: Trevor performing; Trevor backstage; Trevor changing his shirt.
At the bar farthest from the stage, Brian drank bourbon to quiet his mind, which was haranguing him to “Big up!”
His embarrassment wasn’t just stupid; it was shameful. Nonetheless, the birthday party for Trevor so unsettled Brian that his skin stung, as if he’d been smacked. Stiff-necked fool, his mind spewed in indignation. What kind of idiot are you? Go ahead and blush. Brian’s mind accepted that. But all this internal cringing? Where was Brian’s pride?
Pride being the problem. Brian’s false pride; his decency confused with controlling…what no one controlled. Brian drank shots of whiskey barely aware of drinking, and paying. He didn’t realize he alternated between looking at the floor and the video.
The larger-than-life close-ups of Trevor’s sly, seductive grin, his braids flying as he danced on stage, his hands opening and closing as strobe lights jittered in and out of them blocked Brian’s senses. Time and action didn’t affect him. The embarrassment never let up.
Not until Hailey blurred in and out of his focus. “Looks like I’m driving,” she said.
And another massive heap of shame slammed on top of Brian’s heart. He was almost too drunk to haul the amps outside. He sank into a back seat and deeper into misery.
Hailey led him to their cabin. Brian wasn’t certain whether he said out loud that he was fine; she didn’t need to steady him.
Even in his sleep or what passed for that night’s sleep, his mind berated him. Vaguely, he heard Hailey saying (unless he dreamed it), “If this is the worst thing you ever do, we should make you the saint. Not Trevor.”
In the morning Brian’s phone rang the second he stood up. Hailey handed him a cup of coffee and he turned to the window so she wouldn’t see his face.
“Sure, if you want to wait at the airport awhile. No, I’ll come right away. It’s just, aren’t there taxis, Trevor? All right. I wanna talk to you, too.”
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