“That would be good. As much as you can,” Julie replied, and Aaron nodded. He could do that, and he would be happy to do that. Truth was, though he’d spoken to his sister a few times since he’d left on tour, it hadn’t been nearly enough, and maybe the same was true for her, too.
As they said their goodbyes, and Aaron hung up the phone, he let himself drift off into his own thoughts. He had been honestly considering whether he could actually let himself do what Brad so obviously wanted, and what Aaron wanted, too, if he were completely honest with himself. He had been halfway to convincing himself that it was possible for him to juggle all of his responsibilities, that he could be a good brother and raise his little sister, that he could handle all that came along with that and also launch his own solo career.
Sighing softly, he went out to the balcony of his room, gazing down into the congested streets, watching the swarms of people passing by like ants far beneath him. Tokyo, he suddenly realized. That’s where he was. He hadn’t been able to remember when he first woke up, but he did now.
He was in Tokyo, and that was the last stop before they headed back to North America. They were headed to Vancouver, Canada, if he wasn’t very much mistaken, which was always a possibility because it was nearly impossible for him to keep all of the stops straight in his mind. Understandable, maybe, considering that they’d been everywhere from London to Rome to Berlin to, well, Tokyo. And everywhere in between.
What sort of life could he give Leah if he took this on, if he really committed himself? He shook his head as he pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over his sister’s name on the screen. She needed him, and far more than Brad did, or the Lost Boys did, or the record label did.
He knew where his priorities needed to lie. He’d known in all along. So he closed his eyes and mentally told the part of his brain that had held on to a hopeless fantasy to take a hike, then opened them and pressed the screen, tapping out a text message to his sister quickly, arranging a time for him to Skype with her, hang out in whatever way they could.
So that was that. Aaron had to give up on his childhood dreams. He was an adult now, and on his own, he knew now that he would have taken Brad’s offer in a heartbeat. But he wasn’t on his own.
He and Brad had been signing month to month contract extensions because Brad refused to give up on him, and Aaron hadn’t, until just now, been fully willing to give up, either. But it was time to tell Brad that he would sign only one more contract, one that lasted right through to the end of the tour, and that was it. Then, he was done.
If he thought about it too much, it would be very depressing. How many men could say that a record label, a highly successful one, wanted them badly enough that they would operate in as unusual a way as they had been with him? That they would sign contracts, month by month? That he, as the artist, had dictated the terms?
He was so lucky, or he would be if only he could allow himself to take it. Sighing softly, he went back inside and shut his door on the smog behind him.
It was time to tell not only Brad but also the rest of the Lost Boys that he was leaving. For good, forever, just like Darien had. It was time to start saying his goodbyes.
And time to start hoping against hope that, when he was gone, when he was off to some sort of normal life, some sort of normal job slinging burgers or serving coffee, that Lance, Jamie, and Ken would still have time for him, that they would still be just as interested in being his friend as they were now.
About Brad? Well, he had no idea what to even hope about Brad. He should never have given Brad hope in the first place, and he knew he would deserve it if the other man never spoke to him again.
