Love Is Always Write Volume 4

exit again, wondering if it would be better for his sanity if he just left now.
    "And here's Mr. Sex-on-Legs himself… Zebulon Reynolds!" Screaming, applause and loud whistles were deafening in the large room.
    And then Zeb sauntered on stage, a sly smile in place. Oh God ! Chad's breath hitched, and he knew he wasn't going anywhere. The crowd roared as Zeb made his way over to the woman from the other band still standing at center stage with her arms outstretched, waiting for a hug from Chad's ex. Other members of the band were joining him on stage, all being introduced, but Chad didn't notice.
    There was a pang in his chest but he ignored it, transfixed on Zeb's form. The way he moved. The way his tight black t-shirt clung to him when someone from off stage handed him his guitar, the same one Chad remembered. Zeb was speaking now, and the voice was so familiar. Chad sighed, the corners of his mouth curling up softly without him knowing it.
    Three years gone or not, he was positive he could still taste those beautiful lips on his tongue. Phantom memories of what they felt like on every inch of his body covered his skin in goose bumps.
    Chad watched as Zeb's fingers stroked the body of the guitar...and he remembered vividly how those fingers would stroke down his back, the hard calloused tips scratching ever so gently down, down, down… coming to rest just at the base of his spine. His body shivered with the memory. His breathing slow and heavy.
    And then Zeb began to play... and Chad's heart broke.
    ****
    Thump. Thump. Ta Thump.
    Chad swore his heart beat the same rhythm as the song that filled every corner of the large room. There used to be excitement when he watched Zeb play, a soft joy in his chest, anticipation for when he'd get to have his sexy lover all to himself again, and pride bursting out of him. Pride… well, there was still that. There was no way he couldn't be proud of Zeb fulfilling his dream, especially when it was one Chad knew he'd worked so hard for and deserved like few others.
    He stood still against the wall, his head cocked just slightly and his drink forgotten about as soon as the first note was played. Anyone watching, and there were a few that had noticed, probably found it odd that while the rest of the crowd was dancing, singing along and enjoying themselves, he just stood there.
    Frozen. Listening. Devouring.
    Zeb introduced the next song with a hard gleam in his eye. Chad soon found out why as he spat the first cruel line into the microphone. It was a song of heartbreak; that much was clear, even though anger and bitterness were where you'd normally expect a slow pace and sad words. One of those empowering 'I don't need you anyway' songs. And Chad wondered who had broken Zeb's heart.
    He wasn't a fool. He knew that Zeb had probably moved on long ago. To picture Zeb with anyone else just felt wrong – and painful. But now, to know that someone had obviously broken Zeb's heart – no, actually, it was knowing that someone else had had the ability to break Zeb's heart, that he'd given it away when Chad had never had it – stung.
    And any hope that those words were written by someone else was empty, since he could see pain fused with the anger in Zeb's eyes. He could feel it in the words, the vibration making his own ache come alive again, fresh, after all this time.
    When the next verse spoke of being dumped, 'thrown away with an excuse and a smile', Chad had the oddest sensation of anger. Odd because it wasn't aimed at Zeb or the remembrance of what being thrown away felt like. No, it was at whoever could have possibly been stupid enough to toss Zeb, especially if they had that wonderful heart to claim as their own. Whoever the man was, at this strange surreal moment, Chad wished he could kick his ass.
    Two more songs down the play list the band played their hit song Cry and Chad realized he'd never really listened to the words before. Hell, he'd barely listened to more than a verse. But now, watching Zeb sing those words; the deep echo of emotion, the shadow of pain in his eyes and written so clearly on his face, it was a completely different experience than some impersonal radio. And so Chad listened, truly listened, with a new appreciation. It spoke of regret and loss, of a love not returned and Chad swore every word was being ripped right out of Zeb's chest.
    And then…
    … and then, the final verse.
    I cry
    I cry as I walk the sands
    Remembering our shore where I held