The next day, Tay woke up in his own room, and in his own bed. He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened the night before. The vague remembrance of music still rang in his ears. Poor Taylor woke up with an antagonizing pain in his head. Boy, did he feel sick. His memory from last night wasn’t exactly the clearest so he didn’t really understand why he felt so ill. For some reason, he had an intuition that it wasn’t good, and that soon he’d be in a huge amount of trouble. How could he explain something he didn’t even remember? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taylor groggily made his way into the kitchen. It was about noon, and he had just opened his eyes to see the light of day for the first time. His hair was matted and tousled, and he was still only in his boxers and a black tank top. The sixteen-year-old Hanson brother opened up the medicine cabinet, and took out the Tylenol. Carefully, he popped open the Tylenol bottle before reaching to get a glass to fill with water. As the faucet began to run, Ike entered the kitchen.
“Hey, bro,” Ike greeted Tay.
“Hey, Ike,” Taylor’s voice sounded full of pain.
“You feeling sick?” questioned Isaac.
“How’d you guess?”
Isaac gestured toward the Tylenol on the counter, and the glass of water in Tay’s hand.
“I’m pretty sure that the Tylenol on the counter isn’t for decoration,” he joked.
Tay seemed disgusted, “Oh, please. You know, you sound more and more like Dad everyday.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Ike’s eyebrows raised at his little brother’s sarcastic comment.
Taylor never responded to his older brother, Isaac. Poor Tayles felt too weak. He didn’t even want to waste his energy on arguing about it. Right now, it just wasn’t worth it.
“Taylor, honey, can you come in here for a minute? Your father and I need to talk to you,” Mrs. Hanson’s sweet voice could be heard from the family room. Her voice sounded soothing.
As Taylor entered the room, he brushed his long blonde locks back out of his face.
His mother welcomed him with open arms, “Come sit next to me, sweetie.”
Mrs. Hanson patted the seat cushion next to her. Tay crashed his body down next to her, and comfortably rested his head on her shoulder. Boy, was he tired.
“How are you feeling?” asked a concerned Mr. Hanson.
“Horrible,” Tay cringed with the throbbing he felt in his forehead.
“Well, you should with as much as you drank last night.”
“With how much I drank last night!?!” he looked awfully confused.
“Yes, Taylor, hun, “his mother tried to be extremely sensitive to her sick and suffering son. “Tay, do you remember what happened? Last night?”
Tay coughed, answering his mother, truthfully, “Not really. I just remember a lot of people and music. I was talking to Ike, too.”
“You are forgetting a major detail,” Mr. Hanson told his son.
“What?”
“You drank,” explained Mr. Hanson, “until you passed out on the floor! There’s a possibility you got alcohol poisoning!”
“I did!?!” Tay was surprised to hear such a thing. He was positive that if he ever did anything like that he would remember. He was convinced; it wasn’t like him to forget.
“See!” pointed out Mr. Hanson. “You don’t even remember! You have no idea how disappointed I am in you, Jordan Taylor Hanson!”
“But, Dad…!” Taylor tried to get a word in.
“But, nothing, Tay,” his dad interrupted.
No one had heard Isaac’s entrance into the room, nor did they realize he had listened to the entire conversation. He had just stood there, leaning against the wall.
“Leave him alone, Dad! It’s not his fault!” suddenly shouted Taylor’s brother. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Both the mother and father froze, saying in unison, “What!?”
“You heard me,” Ike repeated. “It wasn’t Taylor’s fault!”
“What happened then, that night makes it so not Taylor’s fault?” asked Mrs. Hanson, curiously.
“I made him drink it,” he told them. “He kept telling me that it is bad for our voices and what we shouldn’t drink. I pushed him to drink it.”
“Clarke Isaac!” their father’s fury was unbelievable. “How could you do such a thing to your brother!??”
Isaac threw his arms in the air, as he explained, “The poor boy has been held back his entire life! He needed a day to party!”
“He is right; I have been held back,” Taylor softly, and sickly added.
Running her fingers through her son’s hair, she whispered, “Shhh, Taylor, honey, don’t strain your voice.”
Once again, Taylor shut his eyes as his head rested upon his mother’s shoulder. Poor Tay looked shockingly pale in the face. There was no doubt in his or anyone else’s mind that he was sick.
“Isaac, you had no right to force such a thing upon your brother!” Mrs. Hanson stated, firmly. “Especially when both of you are underage!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tay’s older brother tried to back off.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time, Isaac!” his father fumed.
“I just wanted my brother to have a good time!”
“But, he told you ‘no’!” screamed Walker Hanson.
“I know!” Ike assured them. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Damn right you weren’t!” snapped his father.
“Walker!” Mrs. Hanson was surprised to hear him say that to his own son.
Mr. Hanson continued to yell at Isaac, “Do you have any idea what would happen if the press got a hold of this???”
“I know, Dad!” his and yelled, then mocking his father, “We’d be finished!”
Mr. Hanson plumped down on the couch, mumbling, “I can’t believe this…”
Suddenly, Taylor’s face turned an odd shade of olive as he stood up, running out of the room, and quickly mentioning, “I’ll be right back.”
Moments later, from the bathroom gagging sounds were heard. Taylor was so sick. The alcohol had really taken a toll on him, and now, he was paying the price for the unimaginable amount that he drank that night before.
Mrs. Hanson shook her head disappointingly, “See what you’ve done to your brother, now, Isaac?! He can’t even hold his stomach!”
“That’s what happens with most hangovers,” Ike told them, sarcastically.
“Watch it!” snapped his father. “We don’t need any smart remarks from you right now.”
Ike was digging himself in deeper and he knew it. He was already going to be punished harshly, so what did it matter? Isaac had gotten his little brother out of trouble, but then ended up taking the suffering in s place. He understood that it was his fault and that technically this was the right thing to do.
Walker Hanson angrily exhaled, “Just don’t expect to touch the laptop for the next month, or see or call Kat, and you have to be Taylor’s slave for three weeks, and write him a personal full page apology!”
“When Zac ran away he didn’t have to do all that!” complained Ike. “He was about to buy a plane ticket back home!”
“He didn’t endanger a life!” Mr. Hanson’s face turned bright red, as his voice raised.
“What is all the yelling about?” questioned little Jessie, softly, as she entered the room.
Their father’s tone lessened in the presence of his little girl, “Nothing, sweetheart. We’re just trying to explain something to your brother.”
“What’d he do?”
Mrs. Hanson smiled sweetly, “He made a mistake the other night, that’s all.”
“Oh, okay,” Jessica seemed satisfied. The 11-year-old Hanson sibling left the room.
As the little girl left, Ike was starting to realize what a mistake he really had made. He shouldn’t have given Tay the alcohol and now, just the thought of it disgusted him. Isaac knew he could never, nor would never drink again. He had done something horrible to his own flesh and blood. Ike remembered Tay talking about drinking ruiing your voice. He couldn’t help but to wonder if it would ruin his and Taylor’s. What would happen if it did?
Main Pain
Chapter 20- Tipsy Tunes This Time Around
Chapter 22- A Trim Off the Ends
Tulsa's Long Road Home
I Thought I Could Trust You
