Broken Hopes Sounds like Bass Drum - Part One

On the walls there are tons of photos. Framed with meticulous attention and hanging around the fireplace, there are some of my best and worst works, shots stolen during training, competitions, concerts, trips and afternoons of placid nothingness. They are all there - or at least there are several - mixed with family and childhood portraits. Molly Benton has decorated every inch of the living room with images of what makes her happy: and Charlie, with its pros and cons, is definitely the thing she loves most.

If one side of me is flattered to see so much appreciation for photographs that I would never have believed valid, another is tremendously embarrassed. Only now, looking at the overall composition, I realize how many moments I have immortalized and how many smiles I stole from my best friend. There are shots of all kinds and as many, if not more, are hidden in the memory of my hard disk. I will have used dozens of sim cards for him, while Seth have always and only granted a few fleeting clicks for fear that he would feel the intensity of my gaze on him. I was afraid that he felt the burning desire I have for him, that he was annoyed or disgusted. In any case, over time I managed to collect a decent gallery for him too, but most of them are group photos and if compared with those in which Charlie is present there is no comparison.

«Sorry for the mess, sweetheart. Today I really didn't have time to tidy up» Molly enters the room carrying a flower tray on which two cups of hot chocolate with an all too tempting scent stand out. The smile swells her cheeks, making her eyes a little more than two slits - she's the portrait of health and abundance since she turned 48 and menopause has started to threaten her prematurely.

Before I can open the mouth to deny the presence of this notorious "disorder", the woman frowns looking around: «Hasn't he come down yet?» She then asks, realizing the absence of her son.

I shake my head and sketch a smile: «No» I confirm, now resigned to the idea that Benton's showers cannot be described with adjectives such as "short" or "fast". He enjoys every moment and, for this reason, most of the times his friends find themselves waiting for him for endless minutes; only the job, or a concert he has been looking forward to, can put him in a hurry.

«Holy gods! How long does it take to wash two arms and two buttocks?» She mutters leaning on the tray: «May he have at least some flab! Not even that! He's all muscle and skin».

True, unfortunately he is, I find myself thinking with some reluctance. Sometimes I would like to deny the obvious physical condition in which my brother and his friends find themselves, so as not to feel inferior, but between group morning runs, a few hours in the gym or training at the skate park, all three can boast figures dry and long-sleeved like those of true beauty. Only in elementary school and in the first years of middle school I can say that I saw them with a few extra pounds. So, biting my tongue before I open my mouth, I try to break a spear in favor of the guy: «Look at it positively, Molly. Girls like dry guys like Charlie, especially if they're smelling good!»

She barely holds back an amused grimace, then shakes her hair: «Uh, yes? So how comehe never bring one home? It would be time!»

«Because I'm a tidbit for fine palates, dear mommy» and here, with the blond mop still wet, the unfortunate makes an appearance by winking at the woman who brought him into the world.

«Tidbit?» She asks him with evident skepticism: «But if there isn't even a little meat here!» And taking him unawares she pulls a pinch so strong that, looking at him, I find myself suffering too. I feel the skin squeeze, so inexorably I grit my teeth and pray that there won't be a second one: I wouldn't endure so much suffering.

Charlie yelps, letting himself go theatrically on the sofa where I'm sitting and crushing me, then he starts to recite some script invented at the moment, completely ignoring the stain of water that is being created on my jeans.

«Mother! Mother! How can you do this to your only child? How can you inflict such pain on him in both pride and physique? Don't you feel like a monster hitting him with such violence?» But she doesn't even give him a glance; at a slow pace she makes her way to the kitchen, where the umpteenth delicious recipe awaits her, which I hope not lose. My taste buds need clemency from Catherine's trashy dishes!

We both laugh, allowing ourselves to be grasped by the harmony and naturalness with which time together fills up and, without even thinking about it, I move a damp lock from his forehead, freeing his eyes. It is an innocent gesture, completely devoid of malice, yet I realize that it's not really suitable at the moment - only yesterday we "made peace" and always on that occasion I confirmed my relationship with Seth to him; perhaps, given all these dynamics, I should refrain from treating him with such loving kindness, yet the more I repeat it, the more difficult it is for me to believe I can do so.

Suddenly the blue of his irises is fixed on my face and the embarrassment is not long in coming, giving me proof that, at least for him, the circumstances are not yet outlined to such an extent as to allow me to behave in this way - after all, even if he has not yet admitted it, I know very well that he does not appreciate this situation and that, if he did not care about me, he would urge me to broke up with Morgenstern before committing any nonsense.

He wets his lips, then gives a fleeting glance towards the corridor, probably making sure that Molly's indiscreet ears aren't there to hear any words coming out of our mouths, and finally returns to stare at me: «Is it okay with him that you're here?»

I frown: «Why shouldn't he?» My fingers are still resting on his warm skin, excessively hot because of the shower just over, only that from the temple they have moved near the neck, here where I can barely feel his beat get quick.

«Because you're a couple, Jay. You're his girlfriend now, aren't you?»

What I am for Seth is still something undefined, especially since we haven't talked about it openly and I have no idea what happened to Sharon, the one that, as far as I know, is the last to have been defined as such.

Yeah, and who knows how this news will have infuriated her - always if it has been communicated to her; after all, she has always seen me around her man and for as long as they have been together I have seemed everything except a threat to her idyllic as fictitious love story, made of betrayals and beautiful appearances.

«I don't understand what the problem is» I confess, but starting to move my mind away from the present. The conversation suddenly seems less important to me, there is more to draw my attention to away, someone I realize that has disappeared from the circulation with too much ease - a very strident detail with her possessive character. Sharon in fact becomes an angry dog when someone touches what she decrees as hers and I, with this sort of affair with her "ex", I am doing nothing but stirring up her territoriality - but she does not react, perhaps unaware of whatever it is happening between me and him. But something does not come back to me. Could it really be so? Or, is it possible that they broke up again and now she's pretending indifference not to show her hurt pride? Whatever the motivation is, I don't know it, and the more this awareness emerges among the thoughts, the more I realize I have to understand.

«Me, Jay. This» Charlie says suddenly, first pointing to his chest and then what surrounds us: «I don't think he would like to know that you are here instead of with him, least of all if there is a discussion with Jace in the middle». His words try to keep me anchored to the present, but despite the subject I find it too difficult to worry about the matter; moreover, Benton is a friend, the best Morgenstern and I could ever want: why spending time alone with him, as I have done in the last ten years, should be a problem?

I look at him with more confusion, venturing a smile: «I doubt he can believe I am joining with my brother against him, given the latest events...» and while I make this present, I feel the phone next to the thigh vibrate. One, two, three times and, believing that it is a phone call, I move my fingers away from the boy's neck, grabbing it, bringing it in front of my face. I know it might be disrespectful, yet I can't stop, especially considering the possibility that it may be an urgent matter - or yet another grooming of Catherine for some reason obscure to me.

When the display lights up on a photo of me and Jace, I find that there is no call to claim the undersigned, only dozens of messages from Caro, exasperated by something that I cannot see from the preview. So, ignoring the words Charlie continues to address on the subject, I unlock the screen.

As I try to follow the stream of letters sent to me, some sound reaches my ears, vague and confused. We are still talking about Seth's possible paranoia, about the fact that Benton did not really take sides with one or the other, even if JJ's motivations are more reasonable. I think he is now complaining about something and the more time passes, the more I realize that maybe I should stop at least one of the two flows of information. I should prioritize just one of the issues I'm in the middle of, but I can't - and then I nod without even understanding where the discussion is going.

In Caroline's messages there are dozens of news, but the one that most attracts my attention is turned to the person with whom she is dating now, in her opinion "an eternally undecided subject" to whom she does not know whether to trust or not. And it is precisely the matter of trust that turns on a light bulb among my ideas: I could do a little stalking on Sharon's social profiles, in order to understand the question indirectly - after all, what they invented instagram and facebook to do, if not to intrude into the affairs of others?

A couple of tip on the screen and in a few moments I go from my friend's chat to my nemesis profile, where dozens of selfies and photos worthy of the best influencers fill my eyes with a certain envy.

«Are you listening to me?»

Almost startling me, the boy on my legs throws me a flip, he pouts and I, caught off guard, chuckle to cover the embarrassment of having almost been discovered. I doubt I can justify what I'm doing.

«Sure! I just don't think I have to apologize to anyone if I hang out with him and keep seeing you too. We are friends, aren't we? Best, as far as I remember!»

Charlie pulls a corner of his mouth, perhaps with a half smile. Surely he doesn't have to agree completely with me: «Yeah, because yours is an iron memory, isn't it?» And as soon as I feel the sarcasm come out of his mouth, together with a chuckle, I go back to the espionage from which I was distracted: apparently he has not noticed anything and this gives me the opportunity to conclude my personal mission before abandoning it forever and returning to this afternoon of relax.

I'll just look at a few posts, nothing more, then I can put my heart in peace and enjoy the chocolate with the guy here with me. I don't need much, only the pictures uploaded in the last month - too bad she updates every day.

And as I advance between one photo and the next, studying the tags and descriptions, I forget that Benton does not like silences, they don't fit him - so undaunted he starts talking again, this time changing the subject: «With advancing age, however, I doubt it remain so good».

«Yes, in fact...»I reply absently, opening one of the posts dating back to the days when Seth showed up at my place. In the small square there is the image of two hands holding, his and hers that proudly shows a bracelet for which all of us, running in aid of the poor forgetful boyfriend - or perhaps it would be better to say "disinterested" - had spent hours wandering around London. It is an old memory, from at least a year ago, yet it is among the last, accompanied by a caption that seems to me anything but comfortable.

"No matter what".

Involuntarily my heart squeezes so much that I fear to start feeling bad, to cry for no apparent reason. I feel that phrase echoing inside me like a threat, it turns into a tip that rages on defenseless organs.

What will that mean? I ask myself, fearing the worst already.

And when I think I am losing control over myself, Charlie's voice emerges from the nothing, vehemently tearing me away from those thoughts: «... so, would you like to? I know it's not a big plan, but in short... it will mean a lot to me».

I have no idea what he's asking.

As he stares at me with trepidation I realize that I have not paid any attention to him, too busy to hurt myself, yet he must have pretended not to have noticed my distraction - and at least to make me forgive, since it is something he cares about, I have to say yes.

What his request is, however, remains a mystery.

«Obvious! Could I ever say no to you?»