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For the past four months now, Link had been dreaming of scarves. He didn’t always remember his dreams and they didn’t usually carry a theme but of late there was an omnipresent scarlet scarf. He could be in any scenario; on a beach with his wife, dangling off the edge of a cliff, being chased by zombies in the rain, a tiny version of himself living in Rhett’s shirt pocket. No matter how bizarre or mundane his dreams, there was of late a scarf.
He'd googled its presence, even brought it up in therapy when it appeared for the seventh consecutive time. Christy suggested it was a stand-in for something on his mind, some topic he wanted to discuss, much like his therapist and much of the dream-curious internet theorised. Somewhere deep down he knew what this scarlet scarf was standing in for, but he was terrified to even speak its name aloud lest he realise his fear.
Contrary to popular belief, Rhett and Link were their own persons with identities and opinions outside of the other. However, Link couldn’t deny the enmeshed part of their relationship. In therapy, the topic had finally wound its way to his abandonment issues which was something he struggled to talk about with Rhett in particular, because the child inside Link saw Rhett as this permanent fixture in his life, even if they fell out one day Link believed they would still find a way to see each other or be near each other. Maybe they’d even continue to wish each other happy birthdays just because.
In their oath, they’d promised to create something great together and they’d stayed true to that pledge. In retrospect, maybe he should’ve added a stipulation that if either one decides to create something great without the other it should be done with the non-creator’s consent.
That was ridiculous. Link knew it and gosh, he couldn’t overstate how proud he was of Rhett’s album, but he also wasn’t yelling it from the rooftops the way he might for one of his kids or Christy. A part of him felt ashamed of that response or lack thereof. Surely, something so exposing and vulnerable and personal that Rhett worked on for a long time should be buoyed up by his best buddy. He was proud, he knew that for sure, he felt that pride deep in his bones when he listened to the first record Rhett played for him. That didn’t quiet the fear that scratched at his throat though.
Only once before had he doubted Rhett’s commitment to their promise…to him. When he applied to be on ‘The Real World’ and didn’t tell him; abandoned didn’t come close to touching the hurt he felt in the pit of his stomach. Whenever he brought it up, he could see the regret in Rhett’s eyes but now here was a much bigger, tangible, personal thing – Link couldn’t dislike it even if he wanted to. There was no way he’d ever dissuade Rhett from seeing the album through but…for all of their creative endeavours to suddenly shirk Link’s name, a part of him was upset it was this one. Not that he wanted credit or the attention but what if Rhett fell in love with being James & The Shame? What if, unlike Good Mythical Morning and the other projects they were trying to get off the ground, Rhett was more creatively fulfilled? What if he grew impatient and wanted to make another album soon and all of their creative exports took too much time in his day?
What if Rhett decided to go off on his own?
They’d fulfilled their promise, it wasn’t like he owed Link anything. Logically, he knew that couldn’t happen – what, they’d just halt GMM and all Mythical entertainment? Rhett couldn’t do anything that selfish.
But now there was a possibility, a way out for Rhett and Rhett alone and Link worried that if they ever reached their limit be it with each other or their work that Rhett would have grounds to leave, and Link would be left to close up shop.
He’d talked with Rhett about his fears before, but they had been on a mutual footing, they shared an understanding about said fears because whatever they did or didn’t do it would be together as Rhett and Link.
But these what ifs were weaving themself into a litany of anxieties that Link was struggling to contain.
As one would expect, Rhett noticed, so when they found themselves at Link’s place one night when his family were out, Rhett pulled Link up on his worries. “What’s going on, man?”
Link paused; he was walking back with two drinks in hand from the kitchen to the sofa where Rhett sat looking up at him expectedly. They’d already been drinking for the better part of an hour, and it didn’t take much for Link to get a little tipsy. Link was a sentimental drunk, and he was still lucid enough to process that now might not be the best time for this discussion.
“What do you mean?” He responded with a faux casualness that fooled absolutely no-one, if his dogs could roll their eyes they would.
Rhett breathed through his nose, raising his eyebrows at Link as he folded himself into the opposite end of the couch, sipping from his whiskey and soda. “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? You’ve been acting weird, filming’s felt off the past couple days – Stevie noticed, Chase noticed so what’s up?”
After a few minutes or so of Rhett counting the plants in the living room as he waited, Link decided to answer his question, “I’ve been having these dreams and there’s always a scarf in ‘em,” Link said almost wistfully, gazing up at his ceiling distractedly.
If there was a camera for Rhett to look into, he would’ve stared at it to show his confusion, “Okay…”
Link fidgeted, crossing his left leg under himself so he could swing his right one against the cushions. “I…people say that scarves in dreams are sposed to mean there’s something you need to be thinking about talking about. Or getting off your mind.”
Rhett watched his friend pause for a moment, playing with a loose thread on his sock while Rhett pondered the significance of scarves and whether he was gonna need to sober up more for this conversation.
“I just – I’m really proud of you. You know that.” Now Rhett was starting to second guess his choice to broach this topic with a less than sober Link.
He cleared his throat, bending forward to place his glass of brandy down on the coffee table, “Yeah. Yeah, I know that Link.”
“I love your album, man I think it’s great what you’re doing, I think it’s gonna be real helpful for people…”
Rhett ignored the fact that Link seemed to be confusing his tense and prompted him to get to the point, “Link, just say it.”
Link sighed but Rhett couldn’t make out if it was aimed at his impatience or at Link himself. “Do you…do you just w-wanna go be ‘James and the Shame’ now? You don’t wanna be Rhett and Link anymore?”
Oh.
Rhett leant forward again, elongating his right arm against the back of the sofa as he turned over his friend’s question, “What? I never said -”
“I know this is only one album, but this could be big man, I’m not saying you’re gonna be winning any Country Music Awards anytime soon but you’re good. People wanna hear you, they’ll want a second album or a tour. Are you really gonna say no to that?” Link was slurring a bit, but it was clear what he was trying to say but Rhett couldn’t help but feel hurt by the query.
“Link -”
“- Say for instance, you have two options; one is to do a concert with me go on stage do our comedy songs and forever be known as one half of those two guys from the internet or you could go and be a country singer who made music that touched people and spoke to a community that isn’t often heard from? Ya know? Which one do you pick?” Link asked the question as if it were rhetorical. Clearly, he and Rhett disagreed over the answer.
“Link, it’s not about making a choice- ”
“- Oh really? Cos you made one pretty quick.” There was an edge to Link’s voice as he snapped at his friend who was taken aback by the sudden sharp tone.
Rhett simply blinked a few times and raised his chin, “What?”
“Look this, this is your baby, practically. I just…how would you have felt if I’d gone off and made an album?” The edge had left Link’s voice, he wasn’t looking for an argument, but he was still passionate about expressing himself and it felt like Rhett wasn’t willing to meet him in the middle.
“I would’ve supported you.” Rhett implored, but Link only laughed mirthlessly in response.
“Rhett, come on. Are you telling me you wouldn’t have been a little ticked off that I was doin’ something without you? Something there was no way you could talk me out of doing? That it was just gonna be my thing, and it was gonna be separate from you and I was gonna make that clear; I wasn’t even gonna let you touch this album – wouldn’t even have me sing backup on a song.”
Rhett smirked to himself, looking down at the space between them, “That’s what your mad about? Not singing back up?”
That sobered Link up for a second, he was trying to be honest, and Rhett was teasing him, “Don’t man.”
“I don’t know why you’re getting mad. Are you tryna tell me you never once thought of making something on your own? You never wanted to just be seen as Link? Are you trying to tell me that it doesn’t bother you that everybody hears my name before yours?” Rhett wasn’t looking to rile Link up, but he wasn’t about to have all the blame thrown on him for doing something that Link could just have easily done.
Link rushed to answer the man, “Of course it…yeah, it bothers me. But look what we made. I don’t care if I’m always seen as…as the other half of you.” I like being the other half of you.
Link looked away from Rhett now, feeling his emotions start to get the better of him, “Because what we made is special and its important and its helped people. Even though sometimes I look at what we’re doing, and I think god, all we do everyday is eat crap and sit a desk and talk to a camera, still, I know that there are people on the other side of that screen that care, that mean something to me -”
“- They mean something to me too, Link. We wouldn’t be where we are without them.” Rhett knew the fans knew how he appreciated them even if he did rile them up from time to time, but it made him feel sick to think that Link doubted his love for them.
“I know that. That’s what makes all of this worth it…even when I start to feel like we’re in a rut, or that I’m bored of some things - knowing that there are people that care, that still care that have stuck around…that makes it all okay and what makes it even easier -” Link’s breath hitched as he realised he was running out of steam, his eyes threatening to water at the same time.
He cleared his throat before resuming, “What makes it easier is that I’m doing it with you and we’re having fun and that we get to be kids for as long as we want but I don’t know now how long you want that to be anymore. Ya know? We hit ten years of GMM and we talked a little about would we go on for ten more but now you’re a musician, a songwriter…you’re ‘James and the Shame’.” Link laughed, but there was nothing of the jubilant buoyancy to it.
“What if you wanna be him more than you wanna be -” the other half of me?
Link inhaled deeply, “- The other half of ‘Rhett and Link’, huh? What do we do then? And I think I would just – I would rather be able to prepare for that, Rhett. If there’s gonna come a day where you’re like, “you know what, I don’t wanna be sat behind a desk with you, I wanna be out there performing for god knows how many people”, fair enough but you tell me now so – and so I can get ready.” Link attempted a weak smile as he fumbled over his words.
Rhett watched his friend who had avoided looking at him all the way through his monologue, “Are you done?”
Another threat clear from an increasingly sore throat, “Yeah.”
If a tear or two pushed its way out of Link’s tear duct and rolled down his cheeks, both men chose to ignore it.
“Link, I…This album was something I felt I needed to do. And it’s hard when you’re a part of a duo to have something you need to do on your own, especially when it’s gonna be a public thing. Man, we’re both married; we know what it’s like to be part of a pair but sometimes havin’ to make choices on our own. We’ve been called into school to see our kid because some dumbnut decided to cuss them out or rile ‘em up and we wanna talk with our wives first but we just have to make a decision in that moment.” Link nodded, empathising with the comparison but still unsure where Rhett was gonna go next.
Rhett chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before making the internal decision to be as transparent as he could with Link, “As I was writing these songs, I had that moment where I just – I needed to do it, I knew I had to make this. It was fun and hard and worth it, and I was looking forward to sharing it with you but…well, I wasn’t completely calm about telling you about it or having you listen to it.” Now it was Link’s turn to be confused, he furrowed a brow as he finally made eye contact with the taller man.
“There’s no song for you or about you on that record.” Rhett said plainly, as if that offered any clarification to what he’d already told Link.
Link scoffed at that, a particular song’s chorus playing in his mind, “Agree to disagree.”
Rhett smiled wryly, “Well I wrote it so…whatever man. What I was gonna say was…that doesn’t mean I never wrote a song for you.”
Link could only blink in response, a silent gasp leaving his lips, “What?”
“I can’t always say directly what it is that I’m feeling in any given situation. We talked about that on ear biscuits ‘bout my mom and dad. That’s why the album was so important to me, cos I could try to articulate how I felt in a song, try and make sense of conversations I’ll probably never have with them. Link, my parents aren’t the only people in my life who I wish I could talk to about certain things but can’t.” Rhett’s tone had drifted into the arena of sorrowful now, but Link didn’t know what he was referring to.
“I make you feel like you can’t talk to me?”
Rhett shook his head and let out a short exhale of frustration, “No, listen to me. Like I said about my parents, it’s nobody’s fault. I’m not… not talking out of fear. It’s - Link, at this point in our lives it would be too painful.”
Link was beginning to feel almost distressed from all the vagueness of Rhett’s statements, “Rhett, what -”
“- You’re my best friend. Regardless of what anybody thinks, including what you think about me, I know how I feel about you and working with you and making this promise to you that we’d make something great together and see it through. We ain’t done, Link. We ain’t done.” Rhett spoke with such authority and determination it was hard not to believe him.
Link felt the emphasis on that second “we” even if Rhett didn’t say it. Somewhere, in his whiskey-soaked brain he heard him loud and clear.
Rhett continued in a calmer manner now, hoping that Link was starting to understand him, “And who knows if I might make another album? I don’t know. But we’ll talk about that and I…if there ever came a time where I had to choose between doin’ something on my own whether it be singin’ on my own or writin’ music on my own or messin’ around and being a kid with you…that’s a pretty easy call. And I hope you know what the answer is.”
When Link didn’t respond or show much sign of listening, Rhett shuffled further along the sofa and gently cushioned Link’s face in his warm palms.
Rhett spoke softly now, holding Link’s face in his hands with a tenderness that overwhelmed the younger man, “Link, I ain’t throwin’ everything we’ve made away for a record, okay? You hear me? I ain’t quttin’ on Mythical, I ain’t quittin on ‘Rhett and Link’. I can’t.”
I can’t quit you. I wouldn’t want to anyways.
Green-grey eyes bored into blue as Rhett searched for confirmation, “Okay?”
Link let out a quiet breath of relief, letting his eyes drift closed as he leant further into Rhett’s left hand. Rhett’s thumb caressed his cheek as Link slowly nodded his head.
Link opened his eyes to meet Rhett’s gentle, earnest gaze and whispered his response, “Okay.”