Page 2 of Sunshine Boy

“Why don’t you ask Rahul?” Julian cried. “He’s the one who’s gone and cocked everything up! It’s his fault for having feelings -- or thinking he’s got feelings. If he weren’t obsessed with me, he’d have never sabotaged my relationship. If he were following somebody else around like a bleeding puppy, then maybe me and Michael would still be together.”

“That’s it,” Mel said, snapping her fingers in the air.

“What is?” Julian asked dubiously.

“We need to set Rahul up with somebody. Get him to fall in love with somebody else. That way Michael won’t have anything to worry about and the two of you can make up. Then you and Rahul can get back to being mates, and Bob’s your uncle -- everything back to normal.”

Julian’s dubiosity had not dissipated. “You reckon? I dunno.” He made a face somewhere between a sneer and a wince that made it look like he was about to sneeze. “He’s been building his feelings up for me for years, said so himself. I don’t think we can come in with some, erm…”

“Bloke. He is gay, you know.”

“Right -- some bloke -- and think he’ll be all gone on him in two shakes and forget all about me. He thinks he loves me, you know? That’s massive, that is. When someone’s got gangrene, you don’t come in with a plaster and think that’s gonna make it all better.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You leave it all up to me. I’ll sort it. I always do.” And even though she was wearing her best smug expression, he still had the gall to look less than convinced.

* * *

Rahul reread the same paragraph for the fifth time before finally throwing the book down on the counter in frustration. On the opposite end of the shop, at the counter formerly reserved for the rare record display, Julian didn’t even stir, his flat nose still buried in the pages of Melody Maker.

It had been nearly a week since the… incident, and Julian still wasn’t talking to him. The day after it had happened, he hadn’t come in to work at all, and Rahul had been on pins and needles until the next day, convinced that Julian would never return. But he did. Without saying a word, he had gathered his things and his stool from behind the counter and dragged them over to the display case, creating a makeshift station for himself. And now there was an invisible line down the middle of the shop delineating his half from Rahul’s. Neither of them had crossed that invisible line since its inception and, despite a few awkward attempts on Rahul’s part, neither had spoken to the other.

Mel had called off today’s rehearsal. Their first gig since the… incident was in a few days. No one had told Rahul that it was cancelled or that he was being kicked out of the band (miracle of miracles), but Rahul couldn’t imagine Julian was in a place to perform, and certainly not with Rahul. He could hardly believe the band would remain together much longer when its two front men were refusing to speak to each other.

Sod the band. Rahul couldn’t imagine his heart would be able to take it much longer if Julian continued to ignore him. “For God’s sake,” Rahul shouted, surprising even himself. That certainly got Julian’s attention. “You have to forgive me at some point.”

“Have I?” Julian replied acerbically. But it was still more than he’d spoken to Rahul in days, so he was going to take it as a personal victory.

“Yeah. You have. Or do something, at least. Hit me again, if you have to. But you can’t keep up this bloody silence for the rest of your life. It must be doing a number on you just as much as it is me. I’ve never known you to be able to keep quiet for long.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I’ve turned a new leaf. I’ve taken a vow of silence with the monks of Tchakanda.”

“Tchakanda,” Rahul echoed flatly.

“Yeah. Deep in the forests of Kakujuju.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have. It’s secret. ‘Cause the monks never tell nobody about it, do they? On account of their vow of silence.”

“You can’t go on hating me because of how I feel.”

“I know that!” Julian threw his magazine down. It wasn’t as impactful as he might have liked, given it was only about sixty thin pages. “It’s not because you think you love me or whatever, you titbox. It’s because you went and fucked my relationship up, isn’t it?”

“Relationship,” Rahul scoffed. “You were barely dating for a week.”

“Three weeks, I’ll have you know. And that doesn’t matter, does it? It’s almost worse, in a way, ‘cause there was all this potential, what with us just starting up and you just went and ruined it. You say you love me, but you really hurt me, you know that?” There really was a genuine note of hurt in his voice, one that lanced Rahul’s heart right through the middle. “When you love somebody, you want them to be happy, not miserable right along with you.”

Rahul swallowed heavily and dropped his gaze. Julian was right. The truth was, he didn’t have an excuse. He was just very bad at loving people.

“I think I could live with you having feelings for me, even if I don’t feel them back. But I don’t even know if you really do or not. I think you just wanted an excuse to make other people fuck off and keep me all to yourself. And that’s gonna take a lot longer to forgive.” His expression was of naked disappointment and, in a way, that was almost worse than hearing him say he didn’t return Rahul’s feelings.

In fact, it was hard for Rahul to decide which was a bigger blow. That he was disappointed in Rahul’s character, that he didn’t love him back, or that he didn’t even believe Rahul loved him because of how despicably he’d acted. If the shop had had an openable window, and had it not been on the first floor, he would have jumped out of it. He had no idea how long it would take Julian to forgive him or even if it were possible for him to forgive him. He’d fucked many a thing up during their fifteen-year friendship and they’d always mended eventually -- they’d even come back from their infamous, ill-conceived shag. But it was possible he’d finally over-stepped the line, the one boundary Julian was unwilling to allow him the crossing. And the worst part was he had absolutely no idea how to fix it.

Chapter Two: Making Plans for Nigel

The gig wasn’t their worst, but it was far from their best. They were leagues away from the preternatural flow and otherworldly ease they’d achieved a few weeks ago. That show had been mental, as though they’d all been possessed or had alien signals beamed directly into their brains. Mel hadn’t even known they could play like that. It had seemed, for a fleeting instant, as if they could really make a go of it with this band thing.

But tonight it was back to their old form. Each of them was an island, doing their own thing. Julian was over here pulling shapes while Rahul was all the way over there building pagodas. It was just all wrong. The rift between Jules and Rahul was poisoning the band like a bad apple at the bottom of the barrel. The few fans they’d managed to amass gave them a lukewarm reception, which was still miles better than what they used to get (if the scar, courtesy of a thrown beer bottle, on Mel’s upper arm was anything to go by). Despite this, Mel wasn’t fussed. She had an ace up her sleeve, as it were. Something she knew would turn this whole thing around and get them back on track. Something that was waiting for them in the greenroom at this very moment.