Chapter 3

Jon laid back on his couch, a drink clutched between his thighs and the one hand trying to rub the tiredness from his eyes. Knowing it was a futile exercise, he ruffled his hand through his hair, letting one part of it falls into his eyes.

These days were almost ready to hit the shelves and he knew although it was a dark cd, it would be a hit. This record portrayed the way he had been feeling now for quite some time. His relationship with Dorothea just didn’t work out, no matter how hard they tried. They decided to give it up and go their separate ways. Somehow he felt free, but the nights were lonely and he missed the knowledge of someone waiting at home.

He and Rich threw themselves into this record, writing till their eyes and fingers ached, ending up with so many songs they could have turned it into a double cd.

Oh well into the archives they’ll go, we’ll find space for them another time, just the thought of the huge tour staring the band in the face, turned his muscles stiff.

 Am I getting too old for this shit?

He pushed himself up, his fingers tangling with his buttons, loosening it to display a chest full of fur and tight hard muscles. A trail of clothing followed him to the shower, opening the sprayers feeling the warm water needle into his skin. He lifted his beer for another swig, standing with one arm supporting him against the tiles, sagging his head downwards towards his precious cargo making sure it doesn’t fill with warm tasteless water. The bottle find its way to the bottom of the shower, Jon turned and reach for the shampoo.  Rubbing his hair vigorously, he felt his scalp beginning to tingle. Leaning forward he lifted his face upwards, feeling the soapy trail of the shampoo washing over his body.

Stepping out a while later he felt refreshed and ready to tackle the world, or so he thought until his phone rang.

Mary’s almost non-existent voice made his hair stood on end.

“Jon, Patrick has been admitted to the hospital. He had a heart attack this morning.”

A soft sniffing from her confirmed her crying.

“Oh honey. I am so sorry! I’m coming back home tomorrow. How is he? Holding up ok?”

Jon snapped his phone shut. Poor Patrick, he is getting on in years. He thought of getting him some more help but he steadfastly refused. The couple was like his own parents, always welcoming him back with open arms, although Patrick’s attitude towards him did change after that night. He never said anything and he always treated him with respect but the close bond was gone and he wasn’t sure but sometimes he saw pain and regret in his eyes everytime he looked at Jon, and thought Jon didn’t notice.

Would Megan have the decency to visit her sick father?

He shrugged his shoulders and took a new beer out of the fridge. Only time would tell.