Five Years Later

"Are you okay? I don't think you got enough sleep last night." Taylor Hanson commented, staring at his brother with concern.

"What?" Isaac's attention snapped back into the scene in the studio. "I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You missed your cue the past five times we've played this set." Zachary Hanson pointed out.

Isaac shook his head, his eyebrows furred. "I'm ok. Just kind of groggy."

"Yeah, we know about your wild nights," Zac laughed. The studio managers waved their arms, signaling the boys to quit the chitchat and begin the set again.

"Alright, one, one two three," Zac snapped into full attention.

The music began. Smoothly. Long piano intro. Still smooth. Beat comes in.

"ISAAC!" Taylor and Zac practically screamed, tearing off their headphones.

Isaac breathed in deeply. He couldn't concentrate. He took of his guitar and cradled it gently into its stand. Then he breezed out of the studio, out past the confused managers, past the gawking interns. He couldn't breathe until he stepped out into the small alley behind the studio his family had purchased just earlier this year.

He breathed in deeply, combing his hair back with both hands. He leaned against the wall, feeling too weak to stand alone. He slowly slid to a crouched position barely touching the floor, his fingers still in his hair. He sat in an almost fetal position.

Isaac heard the door open, but didn't look up. He watched Taylor's worn sneakers step onto the tar pavement. His feet directly in front of him.

"It's been five years, hasn't it?"

"Exactly five years today."

"That's right. December 23rd."

"Two days before Christmas."

"Cheer up. Five years. She's probably in Tulsa, waiting. We aren't in Tulsa." Taylor attempted to cheer up his brother.

"She can't be. She isn't coming back, Taylor. I saw it in her eyes when she left."

Taylor had no response to that kind of comment. What could he say to something like that? "I'm sorry, Ike."

At the time, that phrase seemed to be the perfect response.

"Thanks, Taylor." Isaac finally glanced up at his brother.

"Are we ready to go back in?" Taylor offered a hand to help him up.

He took his hand. "Yeah. I think so."

"Seriously, woman. I think that if I have to spend two more minutes watching you go into the dressing room with a rack of clothing on your arm and the coming out empty handed, I'm going to hang myself." Zac grunted to his girlfriend.

"But Mushy, I want to look good when I escort you to the American Music Awards. Don't you want that?" Gillian Phoenix gushed exaggeratedly, then laughing.

"Gill! I told you NOT to call me that in public." Zac turned red.

"Call you what, Mushy?" Gillian smiled sweetly, heading back into the dressing room with another rack of clothes on her arm.

Zac pretended to glare at her back, but then melted into a grin as soon Gillian came out modeling a gold gown glittering underneath the studio lights of the dressing room.

"How do I look?" Gillian smiled expectantly, tucking back her thick brown hair.

"Beautiful. Just like you did in the blue dress. And the red one. And the pink one. Seriously, woman. That's it. Get a dress, and we're leaving." Zac sighed exasperatedly.

"I hate the gold. It makes my skin look dark and blotchy." Gillian replied.

"Then get the blue one."

"That one makes my skin look discolored."

"Then get the red one."

"That makes me look like a hoe."

"Then get the pink one."

"That makes me look like a fat cow."

"Then try on another one."

"You just told me to get a dress."

"I changed my mind."

"Does this mean you think I do look like a fat cow?"

"No! I didn't say that!"

"But you told me to get another dress!"

"That's not what I was implying!"

Taylor laughed. He was sitting next to Zac in the overstuffed armchairs outside of the dressing room area. Taylor had agreed to go shopping with Zac and Gillian, mostly because he wanted time out of the studio. And he wanted to take Isaac out clubbing. He knew Los Angeles had it going on, and he had a couple places in the back of his mind reserved for an occasion like this.

"Taylor, tell your brother that I am not leaving until I find a dress." Gillian said poignantly, deliberately avoiding Zac's teasing glare as she returned into the dressing room.

Taylor turned to Zac and opened his mouth to speak, however Zac cut in. "Yeah yeah I heard her. Women." He muttered.

"You gotta love them. Speaking of which…I'm gonna go look for Ike. He's been at the guitar store next door for an awful long time." Taylor said, standing up.

"Yeah ok. Leave me alone with the woman and the dress dilemma. I see how it is." Zac remarked sarcastically.

"Hey. It's your woman. Not mine." Taylor commented, heading towards the front of the boutique.

"Don't remind me." Was Zac's response as Taylor pushed his way out of the store and stepped into the evening air.

Taylor took in a deep breath. He loved the scent of Los Angeles. Maybe it was the smog, or the neon lights above strip joints. Maybe it was the people or the golden sunset on the city of angels. Maybe it was the city of angels. But he loved breathing in the scent of Los Angeles. It was like a lusty, exotic woman. It was like falling in love.

He headed further down Raven Street, arriving in front of the music store Isaac had said he would be in. However, he frowned as he peered through the glass door and saw an empty store. Taylor looked up and around the street. He saw hookers on the corner and groups of teen ravers walking down the street. However, no depressed older brother.

No, he's not depressed. Taylor shook his head. He was mad at himself for thinking that, it seemed like such a separate subject matter: his brother and depression. He's just upset about Julie. That's all. Taylor sighed. And that's why you're taking him clubbing tonight. Meeting new people will be good for him. Good for both of us.

Then he spotted him. Isaac was sitting inside the café across the street. He was having coffee...with Julie.