I’m gonna find my way to the sun.
If I destroy myself, I can shine on.
Shine…
Aaron covers mirrors. Hides magazine covers. Turns off
televisions that flash his wide white grin and tired eyes in glorious
Technicolor. About the only thing he can do is listen to his voice, because at
least he sounds different than Nick.
Because it is, as always, about Nick.
Aaron can remember simpler times, when he was just a kid and
Nick was the star, so big and happy and blond and the best big brother in the
world, with the strongest hugs, who could lift Aaron over his head and kiss him
on the forehead like it was all alright. When Nick was mostly a holiday brother
but it was okay, because he made the whole world shine when he was around.
Back then, he couldn’t ever remember the look he sees
sometimes in Nick’s eyes, bitterness and stunted anger and just so much fucking
sadness, although he’s sure it was there. Back then, it was all just love
and love and love, and none of the screwed up dynamics of their current
situation.
He is Nick. He knows this. An earlier and prettier and better
version of Nick, so much more pliable without four big brothers to protect him.
So much easier to control, to work to the point of exhaustion and what
thirteen-year-old boy should be up at three in the morning in the bathroom of
his plush hotel room, forty of his mom’s Valiums and some vodka from the minibar
in his quivering hand?
And then Nick. Nick, knocking on the door, not afraid to cry
and to slap him and to kiss him and say no, no, no, because nothing should end
that way and he can’t leave Nick alone, can’t leave him with Mom and Dad and
Angel and Leslie, who’s so, so pretty and more innocent than the rest of them
put together but already dieting just like the rest of them, already being
pulled back for bleach and shorter skirts and that look in her eyes. That fuck
me look. The one Nick has and the one Aaron has but they don’t fuck, they just.
Kiss.
And Aaron knows that when Nick tries to save him, he’s just
trying to save himself, but he can’t bring himself to care. Big brother’s eyes
and hands and mouth, and every once in awhile, everything shines
again.
THE
END
Lyrics from “Distant Voices” by Bush.