Page 76 of Follow the Rhythm
“Why would you want to go and do a thing like that?” he said, and seemed genuinely surprised.
“When you’re not being a drunken dickhead, you’re alright.” We were still standing too close to each other, but I didn’t want to back away.
Ellis’s eyes gleamed, and his mouth screwed to the side. I recalled that desperate look he sometimes had when he thought no one was looking. “You don’t want to be my friend. Trust me.”
I took his hand gently and rubbed my thumb across his palm. He looked down, staring at where our hands were joined.
When he looked back up, his startlingly blue eyes were swimming with tears.
“Too bad. We’re already friends. And lucky for you, I’m a great listener,” I said, squeezing his hand in encouragement.
“You won’t even want to speak to me,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek.
“It can’t be that bad,” I said consolingly.
Ellis scoffed. His eyes flickered between mine, like he was testing me. After a moment, he pulled free from my grip and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“Michael’s overdose wasn’t an accident,” he said.
My heart sank. I reached for him instinctively. “I’m so sorry.”
He stepped out of my reach and dropped his hands to his sides, looking defiant. “Michael had been sober for almost six months. He and Kieran both stopped drinking and partying around the same time. And I hated it,” he spat. “It made me feel even more like the odd one out, like the little brother tagging along. They were ‘sick of the lifestyle’ but I wasn’t. I was still having fun.”
He started pacing like a caged animal looking for somewhere to go.
“We didn’t know Michael was having such a rough go. If he sometimes disappeared for a few days, he told us it was just stress or that he needed space. But all the songs onInto the Garden… It’s hard to sing them now, knowing how much he was hurting.”
He trailed off for a moment.
“We had finally finished recordingReward, which was going to be the next album, and he said he wanted to celebrate. I didn’t question it when he didn’t invite Kieran. We were having a laugh, and that turned into a late night. And when he askedif I had any pills… It wasn’t like I hadn’t shared them with him before.”
My stomach churned with a mixture of dread and sadness. I didn’t want the story to end the way I knew it would.
“He’s dead because of me. Because of my stupid, selfish decision. I left that night, and he took all of them; the entire bottle. They said he was dead within hours of me leaving.” Tears tracked down his face, and he didn’t bother wiping them away, still pacing.
“Ellis. You know that wasn’t your fault. He made a choice.” I wanted to grab him and make him listen to me. I couldn’t imagine how much this had been tearing him up inside.
Ellis looked at me, pain etched across his face. “It doesn’t change the fact that I should have known something was wrong. I should have seen it. How could I not have seen it?”
He sank onto the couch, his head in his hands. I approached cautiously and sat next to him. His orange and cinnamon scent was sour with grief.
“You can’t keep taking all this responsibility,” I said and tentatively stroked his back. He didn’t move away this time.
“The worst part is he knew I would give them to him. The pills. He knew I was such a worthless piece of shit that I would give them to him, even though he was sober. He knew I wouldn’t say anything to Kieran.” His voice was muffled behind his hands.
“No,” I said firmly. “He was sick, Ellis; he wasn’t thinking like that.”
“And I know I’ve been horrible to Kieran, and Grace, and Jess. And you. But you have to see why.” He finally looked up. His tears had stopped. “You are all far better off without me.”
“I disagree. Have you talked to Kieran about this?”
“No, I’m too big a coward, of course,” he said miserably. “But Bea knows. She’s been threatening to tell the press about it.”
I felt a surge of anger. I knew I was justified in hating her. “That’s incredibly fucked up.”
“Again, it’s no more than I deserve,” he said with a rueful smile. “So. Still want to be my friend?”
I could feel his ribs through the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t taking care of himself, but I already knew that.
