The memory begins in the passenger seat of a car, driving down a residential street. The atmosphere is tense -- rather than acknowledge the other person in the car, Noel's staring out the window feeling a sick sense of dread and guilt. The silence lasts several seconds, until the driver speaks up in a soft but clearly exasperated tone.
"I'm not covering for you this time. You can talk to them yourself."
Noel glances over -- the driver, it turns out, is a man in his 20s who looks quite a lot like Noel, if he cut his hair and dressed like a professional. His expression is stern, but he doesn't take his eyes off the road. Noel shrugs without saying anything. As they pull into the driveway of their family home, you catch a glimpse of the dashboard clock -- it's almost 3am.
The other man gets out of the car and strides off without waiting, but Noel takes a few seconds to brace himself for the inevitable shouting before he slinks after him. And as anticipated, the moment he's in the door his parents explode into action and noise.
His mother drags him into a tight hug, carrying on about how worried they were, and how dangerous Noel's lifestyle has gotten. She's near hysterical, crying and fussing, and he feels both awkward and horribly guilty about it. His father on the other hand is stoic but clearly furious, and before long Noel's getting a blistering tongue lashing that is all too familiar.
He's embarrassing the family. One of these days he's going to get into trouble he can't talk his way out of. Why can't he be more like his brother? What did they do to deserve Noel throwing their lives into chaos every other week? It's a lot, and pretty quickly Noel snaps back, turning it into a screaming fight that only makes his mother cry harder.
It's a disaster, but isn't it always? In the end Noel ends up storming upstairs to a bedroom that doesn't appear to have been updated since it housed a high schooler -- because it hasn't. It's also exceedingly 80s. But he doesn't live here anymore, and he regrets letting his brother bring him home just because his own apartment is too far away. It's never comfortable. He'll never be good enough -- he's never been anything enough.
With a heavy sigh he flops onto the bed, running his hands over his face and trying to think about work instead. When were they leaving for the next tour again...? Not soon enough, whenever it was.
Family
"I'm not covering for you this time. You can talk to them yourself."
Noel glances over -- the driver, it turns out, is a man in his 20s who looks quite a lot like Noel, if he cut his hair and dressed like a professional. His expression is stern, but he doesn't take his eyes off the road. Noel shrugs without saying anything. As they pull into the driveway of their family home, you catch a glimpse of the dashboard clock -- it's almost 3am.
The other man gets out of the car and strides off without waiting, but Noel takes a few seconds to brace himself for the inevitable shouting before he slinks after him. And as anticipated, the moment he's in the door his parents explode into action and noise.
His mother drags him into a tight hug, carrying on about how worried they were, and how dangerous Noel's lifestyle has gotten. She's near hysterical, crying and fussing, and he feels both awkward and horribly guilty about it. His father on the other hand is stoic but clearly furious, and before long Noel's getting a blistering tongue lashing that is all too familiar.
He's embarrassing the family. One of these days he's going to get into trouble he can't talk his way out of. Why can't he be more like his brother? What did they do to deserve Noel throwing their lives into chaos every other week? It's a lot, and pretty quickly Noel snaps back, turning it into a screaming fight that only makes his mother cry harder.
It's a disaster, but isn't it always? In the end Noel ends up storming upstairs to a bedroom that doesn't appear to have been updated since it housed a high schooler -- because it hasn't. It's also exceedingly 80s. But he doesn't live here anymore, and he regrets letting his brother bring him home just because his own apartment is too far away. It's never comfortable. He'll never be good enough -- he's never been anything enough.
With a heavy sigh he flops onto the bed, running his hands over his face and trying to think about work instead. When were they leaving for the next tour again...? Not soon enough, whenever it was.
...Man. He really needs a fix.