He remembered the last time he’d seen Leo’s face—he’d been frustrated and angry, and every word he’d said had hit Caleb like bombs. Each dropping a painful realization. He’d ruined everything. He was going to ruin Leo. He was going to ruin Star Shadow. He’d had to get out, before it got even worse than it already was.
“Good, we're all here,” Diego said.
But still, Leo didn't move. Didn't budge from his spot right by the door, until Benji got up from his spot at the conference table and gently, almost as gently as Caleb would have, put his hand over Leo's and led him to a chair.
“Let's get started,” Max said, from his quiet corner. Max, who'd always been the most easygoing guy, who'd been his friend before this all started, wouldn't even look at him anymore. Caleb had expected it, but that didn't mean his heart didn’t crack just a little further. “You okay, Humphries?”
It was impossible not to feel any resentment that nobody had asked Caleb how he was doing. Maybe he wasn't suffering as acutely as Leo, but he'd hardly chalk the current black hole of pain in the middle of his chest up as nothing.
Leo nodded. Still didn't speak. Caleb reminded himself, for probably the fiftieth time in the last few minutes, that if Leo never wanted to speak another word to him again, or spend another moment in his presence, that was his prerogative. And it wasn't even wrong.
“I have the contract right here,” Benji said.
Of course, the contract, the only reason he'd even managed to get everyone into the same room again. Without that unfinished clause, Caleb would've had no chance at all. He'd seriously considered not taking it. He'd thought maybe he should try to move on with his life, like the rest of his old bandmates were moving on with theirs. But when he'd done some more digging, it was clear they really weren’t moving on at all. They were stuck in time, waiting for something. Maybe they didn't know it. Maybe they wouldn't even acknowledge it to themselves, but none of them had really moved on.
Just the same as Caleb couldn't. Maybe if it had just been him, if it had just been his love for Leo, he could've walked away and never returned. But the truth was, he loved all of them. These guys had been his best friends in the entire world; they'd known the hell he'd gone through, because in different amounts, they'd gone through the same thing. They were joined, forever, whether they liked it or not. That realization had been the one that had driven him back to LA, with their last contract in his hand.
“I don't want to hold you to that,” Caleb said. He didn't. A crazy part of him wanted them to see what he saw—a group of guys who were meant to be together, even though it hurt.
“You're gonna have to,” Diego said. “We won't be doing this otherwise.”
There'd been some changes in the intervening five years. Before, Caleb couldn't really imagine Diego speaking up or speaking up so forcibly. But there'd been changes in his life, too. While Caleb had been getting sober, Diego had gotten married and had a family. Albeit it wasn't to the person who Caleb had always imagined he'd marry, but he'd made some progress. But then the divorce had happened, and Caleb had wondered if it was really progress at all. Was it really progress when you kept making the same kinds of mistakes over and over?
“Leo,” Caleb asked, “what do you think?” Because that was really all that mattered. The rest of them might have their own lives now, but Leo had always been the glue that held them together, and although his light had dimmed to gray, he was still the person they all looked to. Not necessarily their leader—because that had always been Benji—but the person whose sun they all wanted to warm them. If Leo agreed to do this, then the rest of them would follow suit. But Caleb didn't really believe, not after seeing the Leo of today, that he'd ever consider it.
“I'm done performing,” Leo said.
It wasn't like those words were surprising, but they still hit Caleb like mini bombs, dropping with full force onto his already devastated heart. He'd known it, but he'd come here anyway, hoping against hope that something might be salvaged from the wreck he'd made of this.
Even though he'd expected no, he hadn't expected Leo to take such a drastic stand.
“What?” he exclaimed. “But you loved performing!” He had. Nothing had ever lit Leo up from the inside quite like stepping on stage and singing their songs for their fans. It had felt like a privilege to be up there, but even more of a privilege to see Leo doing it. And now he wasn't going to do it at all, ever? Because of Caleb?
He nearly walked out. He nearly stood up, told everyone that he was so fucking sorry, and just left. It would've been easier. Not easy, but easier.
The only thing that stopped him was the dying gasp of a breath that came out of Leo's mouth.
Something was wrong, and it wasn't just that they were all about to turn him down, and push him out of their lives again.
Caleb was on his feet before he could stop himself, rushing to Leo's side. He hadn't been this close in five years, and it was a dizzying thought, but he pushed it away because there was something more important right now and it was Leo's uneven breaths, the white cast of his skin, the way his hands fluttered. Caleb put a hand on his back, soothing him like he always had, before he could stop himself. Before he could even remember why he no longer had the right to touch him anymore.
“Leo!” Benji exclaimed and shoved Caleb out of the way.
It's only what you deserve, that phantom voice told him. Smug and sure. The one that had told him so many times that coming to LA and even attempting this fool's errand was pointless.
But he'd done it anyway, and look what it had done to Leo. Caleb had wrapped up this plan in pretty paper, convincing himself that it was for them, when really this was all for him, a stupid, selfish act.
All he'd done was fuck up again.
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Leo wheezed.
But he was not fine. That much was painfully obvious. “Are you sure you're alright?” Caleb asked. “I don't want to upset you.” It's the last thing I'd ever want. We used to have love between us, now it's just . . . ashes. Dead, scattered ashes, and they're going to choke me in a minute, the way they're choking you.
Max laughed, harshly. “You shouldn't be here, then.”
He really shouldn't. He should leave.
What stopped him? Not that voice. That voice was punishing, ugly, sneering, laughing in the back of his head so much like Max just had. What stopped him was the minute bit of longing he saw briefly in Leo's eyes. The single glance that told him that maybe, just maybe, Leo had missed him just as much as he'd missed Leo. Maybe there was no hope for them anymore—hope was a mangled, ugly thing, somehow still beating in his chest—but it was almost enough to just stand here, looking at him.
“I can't apologize enough for what I did. I know that,” he said. “I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all Leo.”
It was true. It was the truest thing he could say.
But even those words weren't enough.
“Convenient,” Benji sneered.
“Yeah, maybe you should have taken that into consideration during the last five years,” Diego agreed.