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Alex

I sat on the brown leather armchair, nervously tapping one leg and gripping the armrests with both hands. It felt like every muscle in my body was tense, and I could feel sweat gathering on my forehead—damn, it was snowing outside!

“I’m feeling better,” I said weakly.

“Alex, you’re allowed to be angry at your mother. That’s completely okay.”

“She didn’t know any better.”

“That’s true, but I still don’t believe that you’re over it.”

I didn’t want to be here, but I knew there was no other way. I had agreed to the program at the day clinic, which included speaking to Mrs. Gerber. The woman simply knew me for too long to be fooled by any act I put on. As for the matter with my mother, I had been going in circles since my admission.

“She made her decision,” I mumbled, feeling my voice grow even weaker. “She couldn’t have known.” A voice inside me screamed at the words. But she did! She knew about the love letters! She was the one who gave him time to think! It was because of her that he came into my room that night. I felt dizzy, pressing my palms against my cheeks.

“Do you really believe what you’re telling me? Or are you just saying it to appease me?”

Feeling weary, I shook my head. “It wasn’t her intention for me to get hurt.”

“You want to defend your mother. Why?”

I pressed my lips together and tapped my leg even more nervously. Yeah, why? It was her fault that he ... “Argh!” I growled and ran my hands through my hair. “I can’t blame her!”

“Why?”

“She ...” I exhaled in disbelief. “Damn it! You don’t know how angry it makes me that she kept the truth from me all those years! But she’s also the only person who’s still there for me after all this shit! And she was there for me! She ... she was a good mother!”

I flinched as a hot tear ran down my cheek, and I swiftly wiped it away with the sleeve of my sweater. “I can’t blame her. That would look like I’m shifting my responsibility away from me.”

“But you were just a child. What responsibility? You couldn’t have done anything.”

I could already feel my lungs constricting, and I gasped for air. Mrs. Gerber stood up and fetched my jacket from the coat rack. I hastily took out the spray and administered a dose.

“You couldn’t have done anything, Alex,” she repeated, sitting back down.

I brushed back my hair and took deep breaths. “Maybe,” I reluctantly admitted.

“Maybe?” she asked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was his son. He had to ... love me.” I choked out the last two words and covered my mouth in disgust. “Maybe I shouldn’t have ...”

“Alex. We’ve been through this already. You were still a child. He was your father. You bear no blame. You neither did anything wrong nor did you fail at anything. What he did was wrong.”

“I know. I feel like I’m going in circles.”

“No, you’re not. Trust me. You’re on the right path. Maybe we’ll schedule an appointment with your mother next week. How would you feel about that?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Then we’ll wait.”

My heart was racing and sweat dripped down my forehead. When I saw her pulling a form out of my file, I tensed up even more.

“As I see, you’ve submitted a request,” Mrs. Gerber said, glancing at me.

I gave a faint nod.

“You want to go to a concert tonight?”

This time, I froze and couldn’t even look at her.

“You know that these requests are meant to better control impulsive actions. Tell me, why do you want to go there?”

My breath hitched as my heart rate quickened. Since I’d been here, I’d avoided talking about Noé. After all, he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. But as much as I tried to forget him, I couldn’t. I had thrown myself into processing my story just to get him out of my head, but ultimately, it was thoughts of him that had calmed me down and grounded me in the chaotic moments. And today, on this Friday, he took up all the space and filled me completely. He was everywhere, so much so that even I realized that I could no longer keep Noé a secret from Mrs. Gerber. And just as I no longer resisted thinking about Noé, I ultimately surrendered to my therapist as well.

Agitated, I raked my fingers through my hair and glimpsed out the window. Feather-light snowflakes swirled around, and a thin white film covered the bare trees. Even though it was only afternoon, the sky was gray, casting a dark and somber ambiance over the day.

“To meet someone.”

“Who?”

I had known Mrs. Gerber for so long that I could hear the suspicion in her voice. Apparently, all her alarm bells had gone off, but she was skilled at not showing it. However, her expression softened, probably as she remembered the architects at Hyde, whom I had told her about. “Is it about work? Alex, I’m sure these clients haven’t forgotten about you. Don’t rush anything and wait a bit longer with work.”

“It’s ... not about the architects. But ... a bassist.”

Gerber briefly glanced at my bouncing knee. “Could it be that you weren’t completely honest with me?” A gentle smile played on her lips, and the woman radiated a warmth I had never seen before.

“I am free to talk about what I want, right?”

Gerber chuckled and crossed one leg over the other. “But you do realize that you can’t go back now, right?”

I bit my lower lip and clasped my hands together in my lap, picking at a nail. “I can’t exclude him anymore. He’s stuck in my head and taking up more and more space. He accompanies me home in the evenings, enables me to sleep, and allows me to get up in the morning. Unknowingly, he takes care of me, even though he’s probably the one who needs my help. Today is the last concert before the winter break. I have to go there and try to talk to him. Apologize to him for just disappearing and not contacting him anymore.”

“Has he contacted you?”

“He can’t. But ... that’s okay. I know he likes me. I’m actually pretty sure of that now.”

“What makes you so confident?”

I grimaced and tried to laugh, shaking my head. “He gave me more than one chance. And I messed up so much. I tried to be someone I wasn’t, or at least I couldn’t maintain the illusion of that person. He inadvertently tore off my mask, and I had no choice but to show him my true face. I’m not confident. I’m terrified. But you asked me two weeks ago what I want, and my answer always came back to him. I want him.”

Mrs. Gerber took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m glad you’ve found clarity in this regard. And of course, I hope the evening goes as you hope. But please don’t see it as an outcome, but as a test.”

“Of course.”

“And please still come on time tomorrow. The special event for relapse prevention is very important for you.”

“I know.”

The rest of the afternoon was quiet, and I enjoyed the anticipation of the evening at Hyde during art therapy. I couldn’t wait to see Noé; just the thought of him made me happy. The fear of being rejected by him lingered subconsciously, but in the last few days, the fog in my head had cleared so much that I simply knew what I had to do.

As I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom in the evening, shaving, I went through possible situations in my head, how I wanted to deal with the architects’ questions. Not everyone needed to know what was going on with me. I would just say that I ended up in the hospital because of asthma and have been on sick leave since then.

I went to Hyde around nine o’clock—the Lighteners had already started at eight, and I knew they would soon take their first break. Claude was the first to greet me from the bar to my left. I took a peek into the lounge to my right, where the architects were sitting and talking, but then I walked over to Claude at the bar. For the first time, I was glad that the counter was about a hundred feet long and the stage was on the other side of the room. During the breaks, the guys always stayed at the far end of the bar.

“Hey, Alex!” Claude shouted to me over the music. “A beer?”

I greeted the bartender and waved it off. “Water, please.”

As Claude turned away from me, I got my first glimpse at the stage. The club wasn’t too crowded yet, and my view of Tom was clear. He was standing at the microphone, starting the last song before the break with his rough, dark voice. Patrick joined in with the guitar, and as Tom stepped aside, he opened up the view to ...

Who’s that?

On the bass, no, on a double bass, stood a nearly seven-feet-tall guy with short dark hair. Together with Pablo, he started the song and set a fast pace.

I was taken aback.

Where’s Noé?

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Claude said as he placed a glass of water in front of me and submerged a lemon slicer in it.

It was the same drink Noé always had, and it looked like a gin and tonic.

“The bassist, I mean.”

“Oh ... yeah,” I mumbled. “Where ... is Noé?”

Claude pursed his lips. “You’ll have to ask Tom. The newbie showed up here five minutes before the concert started.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and pivoted my head back at the stage. What the hell?

“Alex! Hey! You’re here again? How are you? Nice to see you.” Moritz greeted me as he passed by on his way to the bathroom.

“Hello,” I said somewhat stiffly. “Thanks, I’m good.”

“Are you going to join us?”

“I ... uh ... Maybe later.”

“Of course! See you later!”

I breathed a sigh of relief as Moritz headed inside the bathroom. But as the band finished the song, my heart rate picked up. Claude was now serving other customers, so I grabbed my glass and approached the stage.

“We’ll take a short break,” Tom said into the microphone.

I stopped by the last bar stool, and while waiting, I spotted Patrick walking toward me.

“Alex! What a surprise! How are you?”

I tried to put on a brave face and gave a small nod. “Better, thanks.”

“Ready for assignments again?”

“No, sorry. I’m not there yet.”

Patrick smiled, showing he understood. “That’s fine. Just let us know when you’re back in the game.”

“Thanks.”

The guitarist patted me on the shoulder and approached his friends in the lounge. The other three were still on the stage, but when Tom saw me, he came over.

“Alex. Hello.”

“Hey,” I said, looking past him to the seven-feet-tall guy. “You have a new bassist?”

Tom shook his head, his dark curls swaying. “Dani is actually the replacement for next year, but since Noé...” He trailed off and waved to Claude.

“Where’s Noé?” I asked, concerned. “Is he okay?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

Tom picked up his glass of water and took a sip. Then he looked at me with a scrutinizing gaze. “His mother died a week ago.”

“What?” It felt like someone had hit me over the head with a board. “But... His mother?” She couldn’t be that old yet; Noé was only twenty-three.

“She was a junkie,” Tom said softly. “And a pretty bad one at that. He was with me, and I helped him with some official matters. The funeral was yesterday, and since then, I haven’t heard from him. He somehow closed himself off completely.”

Tom’s voice was full of concern for his friend, and a fear spread within me that I couldn’t quite grasp. “Where is he?”

Tom shrugged helplessly. “I suppose at home. I don’t know. I can’t reach him anymore, so I had to call Dani at short notice.”

“Will you tell me where he lives?”

My heart pounded wildly in my chest again in anticipation, but Tom narrowed his eyes, regarding me with suspicion.

“I’m just worried about him,” I justified, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“How are you? Heard you were in the hospital.”

“I’m getting better.”

“Chris mentioned something about a day clinic?”

I rolled my eyes. “So that got around. Great.”

“Not at all,” Tom said in a reassuring tone. “Only Noé, Marco, and I know about it. Noé felt guilty when he heard about it.”

“He ... no, he doesn’t have to.”

“He seems to have deeper feelings for you than he would admit to himself.”

At those words, warmth spread through my heart, and my nervousness subsided. “Some things have come up. Family stuff. Nasty story. And I couldn’t deal with it. The coke thing... I had that before,” I said, briefly showing Tom the scar on my forearm. “I didn’t develop an addiction, because I spiral out of control too quickly every time. I just want to forget and stop feeling crappy all the time.”

“You seem so composed on the outside, but you’re really not.”

“Unfortunately not.”

Tom’s face lit up with a nostalgic smile. “I lived on the streets for a while because I couldn’t stay away from drugs. I was 14 when I first shot up. And 19 when I went to prison.”

“You?” I said surprised.

“I turned it around. I was lucky enough to meet the right people. Just like Noé.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“In the group.”

I had suspected it already, and yet I still didn’t know so much. “Was it alcohol? Or did he consume other things too?”

“Well, he was always very silent in the group, hardly ever said a word. That was okay. What surprised me more was that he kept coming back. Eventually, I mentioned something about my band, and I instantly had his attention. One thing led to another. In the group, he still remained silent, but he told me about his upbringing. He had been through almost everything early on, but that’s hardly surprising when the stuff is openly lying around at home.” Tom sighed and paused. “I’m really worried that the thing with his mother will completely throw him off course.”

“Then tell me where I can find him.”

“I don’t know.” Tom sounded genuinely concerned. “If I knew, I wouldn’t hesitate to pick him up from there.”

“Damn, are you telling me you don’t know where he lives?”

“Come to the Exil next week for the rock night. Nightrain is performing there. I’ll ask around the guys. Maybe he’ll show up again.”

“Please, keep me posted. I ...”

“You’ve fallen for him. That’s clear.”

It hurt my soul to imagine what Noé was going through right now. Tom and I exchanged numbers, which ultimately made me a little hopeful.

“Is it really like that?” I asked, causing Tom to squint his eyes in contemplation “That he has more for me than he probably thinks himself.”

“I’m sure. You should have seen his face when he heard you were in the hospital.”

“I want to help him.”

Tom nodded and glanced at the stage. “We’re up now. We’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, please.”

Patrick was just coming back, and together they climbed onto the small stage. I didn’t stay any longer. I didn’t have a reason to. Out of pure politeness, I briefly stopped by the architects to exchange pleasantries, then I went back home. On the way there, I sent Noé a message.

“My condolences. I’ve been thinking about you all the time. Please, let’s talk. Alex.”

My message went out, and the first check mark appeared, showing it delivered. But not the second, which would have shown the message went through.

Damn! Where are you?