Work Text:
Herm clenched his bottle of water, the satisfying wrinkle of plastic grounding him against the dazzling spotlights dancing in his vision. Hundreds of silhouettes swayed in and out of focus, a cacophony of voices reaching a delighted peak as he sprang up on stage. He waved.
The cheers intensified. A wolf whistle pierced the air, and he turned in the direction he thought it had come from. The culprit remained anonymous in the sea of black, but he nodded regardless.
Having done so many shows, the beats of each movement were ingrained into Herm’s being. He could feel when something was out of place, much like now.
Normally, the crowd would cheer again. He swivelled towards side-stage.
Aaron had missed his cue.
His friend was just behind the curtains, fiddling with a beaded bracelet a fan had given him prior to the show. His long fingers twisted it around his bony wrist – once, twice.
Herm did an exaggerated roll of his eyes, and gestured for Aaron to enter.
They locked eyes for a moment. Herm’s smile faltered, but he caught himself and beamed wider. “Come on,” he mouthed.
Aaron rolled his shoulders back, chest expanding with a deep inhale before he leapt forward.
The crowd roared, more claps and wolf-whistles joining the choir. Whatever Herm had thought he’d seen had dissipated into Aaron’s usual happy-go-lucky self. Aaron waved, racing from one end of the stage to the other. Herm took his place at the microphone as Aaron continued his theatrics.
Once the audience had died down, he leaned in. “Always gotta make an entrance, don’t you?”
Aaron shrugged, and loped back to his microphone. “Once a theatre kid, always a theatre kid. Theatre’s in my bones, baby.”
“Whoa,” Herm held out a hand, “don’t call me that ever again.” Their audience chuckled. “And I seem to remember that you didn’t always do theatre.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Nah, ‘cause wasn’t it a cop-out for you?”
Aaron waved his hands about, pressing a finger to Herm’s lips. Herm cringed away, then pulled his microphone loose from its stand to put some distance between them.
“You used to do wrestling, didn’t you?”
Aaron, abashed, fiddled with his stand, making it shorter. “Ah, something like that.”
Herm turned back to the audience. “Basically, Aaron got beaten up by a woman so bad that he quit wrestling and turned to theatre.”
More laughter.
“Hey!” Aaron called out. “In my defence, she was very scary. Reminded me of Herm fighting in the soup kitchen line.”
Herm tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed. The audience stilled. A few people at the very front held up their hands and started pushing them together.
Aaron spotted them. “Oh, come on! So not worthy of a void.”
“How could she remind you of me? You didn’t even know me, then.”
“It’s not literal.”
“...Right. Only you could manage a void in the first minute of the set, Aaron.”
“What can I say, I’m a record-breaker. I’m unique!”
“You’re special, that’s for sure.” The audience’s silence finally broke, a few chuckles filtering in.
Once they progressed past the introduction and into the more-scripted segment, they managed to salvage the remainder of their hour. Herm gulped down some water once they were backstage, and clapped Aaron on the back.
“Hey, they can’t all be winners,” he said, seeing Aaron’s slumped shoulders. Aaron had collapsed on the couch backstage, chin in his hands as he studied his beat-up sneakers.
Aaron shrugged.
“You down to get some food? Get some New York pizza?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
Herm frowned. “Aaron, are you really that bummed about the show?” At his friend’s lack of response, Herm sat down beside him. “Alright, what’s bothering you?”
“I totally bombed, man.”
Herm grimaced. “I wouldn’t call that bombing. I think we’ve both done a lot worse.”
“But it’s New York, Herm! And it was in front of all these other amazing comedians. And I choked.”
Aaron had been stressed about performing at the New York Comedy Festival. There were some big names attached to it, people whom both of them admired. But Herm hadn’t thought it would be that big of a deal to Aaron.
“C’mon, you’ll bounce back. Don’t let this one impact you so much. Come get food with me. Hey, I’ll even pay.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Well, we both know that’s a lie.”
Still, he got to his feet, and they left the venue together. The New York air was colder than their L.A. home, and the two of them strode down the pavement at a brisk pace. Herm stared up at the light. Though the sun had long since set, the city was more alive than ever: blinking car headlights, the yellow shine of taxis, the red allure of theatres, and the hundreds of apartments and hotel rooms lighting the thousands of ladders up to the sky.
“Herm,” Aaron said. He held out an arm, halting them. “Look.”
Herm squinted. A few paces away from them was a bird, bleating at their approach. Herm hadn’t heard it before now.
“What’s a duck doing here?” Herm asked. “We’re not near Central Park, are we?”
The duck didn’t waddle away even as Aaron took a few steps towards it.
“Aaron, leave it. It’s probably diseased.”
“What if it’s hurt? It’s all by itself.” Aaron knelt down beside the duck. “They’re supposed to travel in flocks. Where have your friends gone, ducky?” Aaron reached out a hand.
The duck squawked, flapped its iridescent wings, and took off. The black cloak of night swallowed it whole.
Herm shrugged and started walking again. But there were no footsteps following him. He turned back to Aaron, who was staring up at the sky. His fingers were twisting his bracelet again.
“Aaron, it’ll be fine. It flew off; it can’t be that hurt.”
“But it was all alone. What if it’s lost?”
“His friends will find him. Come on, I’m starving!”
Aaron stared at the horizon a moment longer. Then, his shoulders deflated, and he trudged towards Herm.
~
Warm orange peeked through the sheep’s wool dotting the sky. Herm turned towards it, his body trying to drink in the sun’s heat despite the thick plastic separating them. Against the blinding shimmer of dawn, he could make out thicker stacks of grey in the distance. A storm incoming. Thank God for their early morning flight.
Stale plane air wooshed over him and he shifted, reaching upwards to fiddle with the dial. He bumped into Aaron as he stretched.
“Sorry, man.”
His friend didn’t respond. Aaron’s tray table was down, and on top of its ashen surface, his hands passed the bracelet back and forth.
“Earth to Aaron?” Herm waved a hand in front of Aaron’s face. His friend blinked, and he slipped the bracelet back onto his wrist.
“Hmm?”
“You don’t function well in the mornings,” Herm huffed, and shifted in his seat.
“‘Cause it’s six a.m., dawg.” Aaron chuckled. “You’re the weird one for- for- s- trying-”
The words tripped in Aaron’s mouth. Herm barked out a laugh. “Do you even know what you’re trying to say?”
Aaron collapsed against his backrest. “Whatever. Let it flow.”
“You need to go back to that speech pathologist, man.”
Herm readied himself for Aaron’s retort, mind already supplying a few options:
Maybe: “You’re one to talk, you have a lisp.”
Or: “You need to go back to the unemployment office.”
Or lucky option number three: “Go back to your barber and ask where your hair’s at.”
What Aaron actually said was, “Maybe,” before he fell quiet again.
To be fair, it was early. They had gotten the earliest flight possible back to L.A. so they could shoot a few videos for the second channel, though they’d still end up landing around midday. It was a tight schedule, but they’d given Kevin a heads up, and he was cool with it.
Still, he knew Aaron didn’t like being late. Herm and Denny shared a similar philosophy to work: they’d get there when they got there, and the rest would work itself out. But Aaron stressed out about these kinds of things. He was a lot more like Kevin in that way. Always caring too much.
Herm put on his headphones and tried to nap.
~
They got in on time, only for their plane to get stuck on the tarmac for an hour for no discernible reason. By the time they de-boarded, got an Uber, and arrived at the studio, it was ticking well into the afternoon. Not that they could tell – the clouds here were worse than New York, casting everything into a dim blue hue.
Herm hurried after Aaron, who had jumped out as soon as the wheels of the Uber ground to a halt.
He blinked against the harsh interior lights, saying hello to the crew as he entered. He didn’t get his regular greetings back.
Everyone was at their respective posts, already filming.
“Well, well, well,” Kevin said, braids flinging as his head tilted left and right. “What do we have here, Denny?”
Denny put one fist under his chin. “I don’t know, Kev, what do we have here?”
“‘Cause I know it’s not the people who were supposed to be here an hour ago!”
“No, ‘cause they’re sitting right here already, ain’t that right, A-Boogie?”
Herm frowned. Denny wasn’t referring to Aaron. No, he had turned to his left, where Madison, the guy they had jokingly cast as Aaron’s replacement months back, sat. The other side of the table held a large balding man. Herm’s Temu-dupe from the balloon video.
Aaron paused, just off-set. He laughed, but it was strained. Nervous. “Sorry, guys, our flight–”
“Shut it, stranger,” Denny snapped. “Me and my bestie are trying to win.”
The five of them – Kevin, Zane, Denny, Aaron’s Dupe and Herm’s Dupe – held Uno cards in their hands.
Herm breathed out a sigh of relief. “Ay, Aaron, thank God we were late, I hate this game.”
Herm pulled up a chair off-set. Kevin slammed his hands on the table.
“Damn it, Herm, at least act like you care about my excellent prank!”
“Oh, you were trying to prank us?” Herm raised an eyebrow, nonplussed.
“No, there’s no prank,” Denny jumped in. “You’re both being replaced. Slackers.”
Herm rolled his eyes. “Aaron, come sit down.”
Aaron was still hovering, eyes on the table. Herm tilted his head. His friend seemed frozen again, like he had in New York.
“Just get out of here,” Kevin sighed, turning to the two duplicates. “Thank you for your service.”
“Nah, keep fake-Aaron,” Denny said. “I liked him. A lot funnier than the real thing. Hey, what would you say about becoming permanent? A vacancy’s just opened up.”
Fake-Aaron laughed, pushing his shoulders up and down. Herm leant forward. It was a pretty good imitation.
Fake-Herm walked off-set and held out a hand, tag-teaming with Herm. Herm took his seat at the table and shook fake-Aaron’s hand.
“You know, this is probably for the best. Your counterpart over there bombed so hard last night.” He gestured at Aaron, who had drifted closer to the table.
“I thought you said we didn’t bomb,” Aaron said.
“We didn’t. You did.” Herm chuckled to himself, leaning into Denny and Zane’s pleas for further information. “He got voided first joke on-stage.”
“It was the introduction. I wasn’t– we were just– it was– was–”
They rest of them laughed as Aaron gave up on getting the words out.
“Relax, man. I’m just messing with you.” Then, to Denny, Herm mouthed, No, I’m not.
“Let’s continue,” Kevin interrupted, and the game of Uno resumed.
Herm studied his cards. Fake-Herm hadn’t played particularly well. There were a lot of number cards in his hand, and Herm liked to save his plus-twos and plus-fours for when the gang got up to their regular shenanigans. This time, he was sitting between Fake-Aaron and Zane, which gave him some buffer room from Denny.
After a round, he heard Denny protesting. “Sorry, Aaron, we already got five people at the table. We just don’t need you anymore.”
Aaron had dragged over a chair and had tried to sit between Kevin and Denny. He paused, hands gripping the back of his chair, eyes darting from Denny to the floor.
The rest of the table laughed. After a beat, Aaron smiled. “Whatever, man,” he said, sitting down.
The game continued, but Fake-Aaron kept playing in Aaron’s place. Herm had to pick up a few cards.
“You know, in New York,” Aaron began, though Denny started yelling as Zane called Uno. The table devolved into chaos, but Aaron trudged on.
“I told y’all, I’m going to win this one,” Zane smirked.
“-there was this duck, just sitting in the middle of the road. It was the first time I’d seen the literal phrase of sitting duck–”
Denny rolled his eyes and pointed at the camera. “Hey, Ayo, show us what happened last time Zane said that.”
“-I used to be scared of ducks, because one bit me as a kid. I always used to feed the ones by my house–”
Denny put down a plus-two. “C’mon, Kev,” he said as Kevin hesitated. “C’mon, I know you got something. Pass it to Zane, man, do it!”
“-it was really calming. I actually have a park by my house, and there’s a bunch there, and I wanted to feed the ducks in New York, but Herm was all–”
“I just don’t have anything!” Kevin said, ogling at his cards. “Why would you do this to me?”
“-no, don’t do that, they have diseases– you guys aren’t listening, are you?”
“‘Cause I thought you would have something! I’m trying to get Zane out! He’s got two cards left, are you even paying attention?”
“Sorry, it’s just hard to focus when Aaron won’t stop messing with that damn bracelet!” Kevin turned to Aaron, who continued, oblivious. He had pulled the bracelet from his wrist and was twisting it in his hands, sliding the beads back and forth along the string. Kevin snatched it from him. “Cut it out, would you?”
Aaron whipped his head to Kevin, frowning. Herm braced for the tirade that was about to follow – Kevin and Aaron always traded barbs back and forth and got way too heated. It made for good content, so long as Herm didn’t end up catching a stray.
But, again, Aaron’s quip never came. “Sorry.”
Denny reached over Aaron and yanked the bracelet from Kevin, giving it back to Aaron. “He didn’t do nothing! That’s his– his stim thing, or whatever it’s called. A-Boogie, don’t let him just take your things.”
“It’s fine, I’ll stop. I can see how it can get annoying.” Aaron shoved the bracelet into his pocket, though his leg started bouncing almost immediately, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Denny pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Kevin.
A few minutes later, Zane lost to Denny. Herm was fairly sure he’d seen Denny passing Aaron his unwanted cards under the table, but kept quiet. White men didn’t deserve to win.
~
Shaw’s Bar was a grime-covered hole, but the drinks were cheap, and it was right around the corner from the studio, so it was where they held their post-Thanksgiving/four million subscriber celebration. Kevin had rented the place out so it would just be them and their crew tonight, and Herm had come early – primarily because Kevin had offered him a lift, but also to help decorate the place.
They hung up multicoloured streamers from the ceiling, creating a cascade of celebratory rainbows. Kevin had even procured a roast turkey and laid it in pride of place among the pushed-together bar tables.
Kevin had asked the core group to come early, and he had laid four presents out on the table. When Herm saw them, he shook his head.
“You should’ve told me, so I could’ve gotten you something.”
“No, bro,” Kevin groaned. “It’s for me to show my appreciation to you guys. Now put your height to use and hang up my banner.”
Zane rocked up almost a full fifteen minutes early, just as Kevin was putting the finishing touches on the table – napkins, folded into cranes. Or something that Herm had guessed was supposed to be a crane.
Denny was the next to arrive, five minutes after six. A reasonable time. He greeted the three of them, commented on the decor, then sat down.
After another ten minutes had gone by, Kevin started pacing. “After all this effort I’ve put in, he has the audacity to be late!”
The forced heat in his voice was tempered by the way Kevin chewed his nails. It was a nervous habit that Herm knew Kevin despised – one that he forced himself to quit, for the most part. Herm had only seen Kevin break his resolve once before, when he was putting together the Finding Denny Love episode. Many contestants had dropped out at the last moment, putting weeks of hard work into turmoil.
“Relax,” Denny said. “Has anyone tried calling him?”
Kevin whipped out his phone and started ringing. Herm looked down at the device in his own hands. He had messaged Aaron a few minutes ago. The text was short, just a simple, how you travelling?
But, looking at it now, Herm frowned. Above that text were others he’d sent, spanning the past two weeks. They were sparse, short messages that mostly didn’t require a response, so Herm had never thought it odd that he hadn’t gotten one back. Until now.
Seeing them in such quick succession, all read with no response, made something twist in Herm’s gut.
Kevin’s call rang out.
“Maybe he got robbed again,” Zane offered. It was his attempt at lightening the mood, but even he could barely muster a smile.
“Don’t even joke about that,” Denny muttered, reaching across the table to grab the gift with his name on it. “Can I open mine now?”
“Can y’all just wait a little longer? I had a speech and everything…” Kevin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He, too, took a seat, sinking low against the chair. “I guess it’s fine. The others will be arriving soon, so, sure, go for it.”
“No, I’ll wait.”
“Why don’t we open presents another time?” Zane suggested. “We can celebrate with the crew, and then, when Aaron gets here, we can stay a bit later, and open them together?”
Kevin shot Zane a grateful smile. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Herm grabbed his present and stored it in his backpack. Hopefully it wasn’t another set of African animals – not that he thought Kevin had been back home yet since his last visit. Even though he had promised to fly them all over this year!
The boxes were small though. Herm was more interested in the speech.
“Aaron definitely said he was coming, right?” Herm asked.
Kevin pulled a face, shrugged, but before he could answer, a small rap sounded at the door.
Aaron, Catherine, and Andy had arrived altogether.
Kevin hid the rest of the presents, and Herm forgot all about his unanswered texts as copious amounts of alcohol began to flow on Kevin’s tab.
He only remembered to be concerned when Kevin approached him much later, the bar lights dim behind him, people filtering out onto the dark street, and asked, “When did Aaron leave?”
~
The sky’s fleece roiled over itself, dark and angry clashes sending stray bullet-shaped rain bucketing down on Herm. He flipped his hood over his cap as Denny shoved from behind him, trying to rush into the studio as soon as possible. But Herm lingered in the doorway, squinting upwards. In between the blinding flashes of lightning, the sky had a purple tint. Hail’s forewarning.
“Move your giraffe ass!” Denny’s tiny fists pounded at the back of Herm’s jacket.
“Alright, damn.” Herm let himself be swept up in River Denny, washing up on the studio’s dry shores.
“Y’all alright?” Kevin asked, greeting them at the door. He held out two branded mugs. “I called you guys; I was worried. Crazy storm out there, hey?”
“Yeah, did you fucking sneeze?” Denny snatched one of the mugs from Kevin’s hands and cradled it to his body, anger dissipating as he inhaled the steam. “Almost got blown away out there, damn. Is this hot cocoa?”
“I didn’t know we had the budget for that fancy shit,” Herm said, reaching for his own mug. It was scalding, sending him from one extreme to the other: from the outside world’s frigid tantrum to this crucible. “God damn, Kev, did you cook this over a fire or some shit?”
“I’ll take it back then! Damn ungrateful asses.”
Herm took a sip. Whenever he had hot cocoa in the past, it soothed him, like an internal embrace. He grew up on the cheap shit, made with hot water and a splash of cold milk at the end – nothing as rich and as smooth as this. Yet, it was too sugary, and he cringed away.
“Thanks, Kev. Hold this for a sec? I gotta get out of these wet clothes.” Kevin did as he asked, and Herm shuffled out of his coat. “Is Aaron here already?”
“Nah.” Kevin handed the drink back, and they drifted towards the set.
Zane was sitting down already, checking his phone, headphones in. A glance over his shoulder showed him watching an unlisted Kevin Langue 2 video that was scheduled to go up that weekend. It was the day that they played Uno – almost a month ago now.
“KL2-ception,” Kevin said from behind him. He tapped on Zane’s shoulder, and he popped out an earbud. “How’s it looking?”
“Edit is pretty good,” Zane said. “You gotta see what Ayo did, though. He turned all of us into ducks and then made Aaron into an ugly duckling. Kid’s insane!”
Denny reached over and tilted the phone his way. “Shame Aaron ain’t gonna grow out of the ugly phase.”
“Shame you ain’t gonna grow,” Kevin and Zane said at the same time.
Denny eyed them. “Now be careful. You gon’ regret that when we’re playing!”
“You don’t even know what we’re playing today,” Kevin retorted. “And besides that, it’s 1v2. You sure you want to be threatening us already?”
“Just wait until my A-Boogie gets here. We’ll whoop your asses. Herm, too, right, Herm?” Denny whacked Herm’s shoulder.
He held up his hands and looked down at the ground, grinning. “Shit, I don’t know, Denzel. I’m not trying to make enemies today.”
“Whatever, I don’t need you. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“You a bitch.”
Herm rolled his eyes, chuckling. Denny talked a lot of shit, but it was always harmless, and Herm found it more amusing than anything. Like water off a duck’s back.
“Hey, where is Aaron, anyway?” He directed that to Kevin.
“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “He didn’t pick up when I tried to call.”
Herm checked the time on his phone. It was ten past ten. “You think he’s doing okay driving in this weather?”
“Unlike you, Aaron can actually drive,” Denny butted in. “He’ll be here soon. He’s probably driving like a granny; all scared about the car flipping over.”
“You know you should be driving slower in the rain, right?” Zane said to Denny. “That’s not granny driving, that’s just, like, basic safety.”
“Says the grandpa over there.”
“Uh-uh, vasectomy, remember?” Zane gestured downwards. Denny pulled a face.
“Nah, Aaron needs to get here ‘cause without him, Zane’s the weird one, and his weird is just creepy. Kevin, call him again.”
“I’m not your damn slave!” Kevin got out his phone anyway and rang Aaron.
Herm sipped at his hot cocoa. The pit in his stomach fermented the sugar into bitter acid, corroding his insides. Kevin was chewing his fingernails again. It was making Herm nervous, damn him.
Denny. Denny wasn’t worried. Denny knew Aaron best, and if Denny wasn’t worried, then Herm needed to chill out. Go and smoke something, maybe. Just relax.
Herm glanced at Denny. Denny hovered behind Kevin, scrolling on his own phone, not paying much attention at all. He seemed absorbed in his task, texting someone.
“Yo, Denzel!” Herm called out. “You got a new girl?”
Denny waved him off.
Herm grinned. See? Denny was so chill about the situation that he was organising a hook-up. Aaron was fine.
The call rang out.
Denny’s fingers stilled. Kevin ripped a hangnail. Zane paused his video.
A second passed. Another. All of them were frozen, staring at Kevin’s phone, as Aaron’s voicemail played.
“You’ve reached Aaron! Leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!”
Chirpy, in the way they all associated with Aaron. Words tripping out of his mouth in his rush to say them, except for each s, which was pronounced particularly slowly so that he could ensure he didn’t stutter on them.
Chirpy, in the way that was almost aggravating for the rest of them. Aaron’s endless optimism, his easy-going attitude to all things. No matter if it was serious. Especially if it was serious. His pure joy of life, post-marked with a loud beep!
Chirpy, in the way that Herm hadn’t heard in weeks.
“Guys,” Herm began. “Has Aaron seemed off to y’all?”
Three sets of eyes turned to him. Denny was the first to break, yanking his phone up to his ear and calling someone now, too, turned away from the table as he paced. His left hand, the one not holding his phone, clenched and unclenched by his side. A deep crease formed in Kevin’s forehead as he called Aaron again, taking his phone off speakerphone.
Zane was the only one who verbalised his response.
“I thought he was just having an off-few weeks.” The producer looked around at all of them. “I mean, this is Aaron. He’s always fine.”
Denny’s hushed conversation carried from the other side of the set. “Hey, Mama Branch, how you doing?”
Herm and Kevin locked eyes. They stood in unison, beelining for Denny. They gestured for him to put the phone on speaker, but Denny turned into the wall, eyes screwed shut.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m good– yeah, I know I gotta call more instead of texting all the damn time. You know me. I don’t like them phonecalls. Look– I’m sorry, but, uh, I’m just wondering if you’ve heard from Aaron lately? He’s been a bit M.I.A., and he’s probably just held up by the weather but– oh. You sure?”
“The fuck does that mean?” Kevin hissed. “What’d she say?”
Instead of acknowledging either of them, Denny brushed past them. Herm and Kevin stormed after him.
“Denzel,” Herm said, exasperated, but mainly just fucking worried as Denny grabbed his keys. Denny didn’t call people. Denny didn’t rush out off-set like this, either.
Herm snagged his coat and chased him to the car, sliding into the passenger seat before Denny could argue. Not that he was going to – Denny was still on the phone with Aaron’s mom.
Herm peered over the backseat. Kevin had gotten into his own car and was following them out of the parking lot.
“No, no, I don’t know. No, I’ll– look, I’ll check in with him, see where he’s at. Yeah, ‘course I’ll tell you. Just– I’m gonna go see him. I’m sure he’s alright. You know Aaron! Nothing ever gets that man down. He’ll be– he’s fine.”
But Denny didn’t sound like he believed that.
He pulled into the perpetual L.A. traffic with a jerk of the wheel, held one-handed. The wheels slid underneath them, tripped up by the rain-slicked lifelines running through the city. Herm gripped the hand-hold, grimacing, but kept quiet. He recognised this route. Denny was heading to Aaron’s house.
“Hey, look, I gotta go. I’ll call– Aaron and I will call you back, okay?”
Denny hung up.
“What’d she–”
The flurry of movement made Herm jump.
“Fuck!” Denny banged his hand against the steering wheel’s rim, the damp leather making a loud slap sound with each hit. “Fuck, man, what the fuck is wrong with us?! Why the fuck doesn’t Aaron fucking trust us, why doesn’t he come to us, what the fuck?”
“Denny, whoa.” Herm’s hand paused in the air between the passenger seat and Denny’s shoulder. He’d never seen Denny lose his shit like this before. Even up until now, he had seemed worried but composed. Herm pushed through, and held onto his friend. “He’s probably at his house.” Like Denny, he didn’t sound like he believed it, but Herm doubled down. “He probably slept in. Maybe he had a bit of a night with our good girl, Mary Jane. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
Denny barely flicked on his indicator as the car slid over into the right lane. The roar of the engine strained to be heard over the chaotic beat of the rain pounding the car. The sky had lost its purple tinge now, and was a near solid-black.
“Don’t bullshit me, Herm! Don’t bullshit yourself either. You know there’s something wrong. We all know it – we’ve been knowing it! Yet none of us did any-fucking-thing about it– what the fuck is wrong with us? What kind of piece-of-shit friends are we?”
Herm didn’t have a response. There was nothing he could say, not when everything Denny had said rung true.
Lightning cracked above them, illuminating the car’s immaculate interior for the briefest of moments. In the flash, Denny’s face, with all its hard lines and angry twist to his mouth, morphed into one over-exposed truth: fear.
Herm didn’t need to look in the mirror to know he looked the same.
Denny’s wheels screeched into Aaron’s driveway, and the two of them leapt out – car still running – and pounded on Aaron’s door.
“A-Boogie, if you don’t open this shit right now, I swear to God, I’ll beat your fucking ass–!”
Behind them, Kevin’s car pulled up, skidding to a stop up on the sidewalk. Kevin’s door slammed behind him as he joined them on the porch. “Aaron Branch!”
Herm huffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he pulled up his hood. This was a useless exercise. They could hardly be heard over this fucking storm. He abandoned the porch and circled around the house, eyeing each window. He tested a few.
Locked.
Herm wiped the rain out of his eyes and bent down. The back wasn’t maintained, rocky and overrun by weeds. Herm picked up one of the stones, tested the weight in his hand.
“Sorry, Aaron,” he muttered, glancing around him. He pulled his jacket over his hand and smashed the stone through the glass, then pulled himself through.
The house wasn’t lit. Though it was allegedly daytime, the storm had sucked all light from the sky, making it pitch-black inside. Herm stumbled through, though he’d been here enough times to guess at where the switch was.
The room flooded with tungsten, and he headed for the front door.
Denny and Kevin barrelled inside, and the three of them spread out. Aaron’s place wasn’t huge. It was two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. From the moment Herm clambered inside, he knew: Aaron wasn’t here.
He would’ve known. He would’ve heard him, or he would’ve sensed him if Aaron’s obnoxious self couldn’t be heard over this storm. After so many legs of a tour together, he had a sense of where Aaron was. It was in the things he struggled to consciously catalogue: the TV was off – Aaron liked the background sound to organise his thoughts; the kitchen wasn’t littered with mugs and cans of various energy drinks; and by the door, his current favourite pair of sneakers were missing.
Aaron had worn the damn things out, scuffing them until they were an off-white, something he really should be embarrassed to wear. But Aaron grew up with even less than Herm did, and the man wore shoes until its tongue lolled out of its mouth in its attempt to play dead.
Less than a minute passed until they all reconvened in the living room.
Kevin looked grim-faced, eyes fixed on the phone and car keys in his hands.
“They’re Aaron’s,” Kevin said. His words seemed larger than life here. There was no escaping them, nor was there a way out of this reality.
Denny looked from Kevin, to the phone, then to Herm. All pretence of anger had deserted him. “Where is he?”
Denny, all jokes aside, had never once sounded small. Nothing slowed him down – he’d barrel over you if you tried to get in his way, verbally or physically. Denny lived life larger than anybody.
But it was like the sight of Aaron’s phone was a wall none of them could get around. Herm didn’t even want to see past it. There were implications there, ones he was too terrified to consider. And that, too, was strange: Herm hadn’t felt terror like this since he was a kid.
Denny palmed his keys. “I’m going to drive around. Try to find him. He can’t have gone too far if he’s on foot, and it’s pouring.”
Kevin locked eyes with Herm. Herm propped his hood up again, ducked his head to avoid Kevin’s gaze, and followed Denny out the door.
“I’m gonna walk around, see if we missed anything.”
It felt wrong to leave Kevin there, so clearly looking for reassurance, but, again, there was nothing Herm could say. The unspoken truth was that they didn’t know when Aaron had left. He could’ve gotten a cab, could’ve hopped on the bus to airport, could’ve–
No, no, there was no use in thinking about the possibilities.
The drain by Aaron’s house was blocked, and the water swirled up onto the pavement, soaking through his sneakers to Herm’s socks. Mud splashed up onto his pants as he trudged down Aaron’s neighbourhood, trying to make out any of the street signs in the haze of the rain.
He almost tripped over the damn thing.
Its alarmed squawk and flutter of wings were Herm’s only warning before the duck took flight right in front of him. He jumped backwards, neck craned upwards as he tracked the fowl. He couldn’t help but resent it. How was it flying in this damned rain? The torrential waters slowed all of Herm’s movements, forcing him to go slow in case he slipped on the slick pavement, literally bogging down his shoes with its weight.
But something itched at him, as he glared after the duck.
It was strange that it was alone.
Hadn’t he heard from someone that they usually travelled in flocks?
Aaron.
The duck was already so far, barely baseball-sized now, taking cover in the storm. Herm cursed, and sprinted in its direction.
Aaron had had a fascination with these animals ever since the one they saw in New York. The night of the Comedy Festival, Aaron had convinced himself the duck they’d come across was injured, and had even made Herm look up local vets to ring. The vets had all refused to go searching for this duck, like any rational person, and Aaron had spent hours cursing them out. But that was just Aaron for you. The biggest heart of any of them.
Luckily, this duck’s destination wasn’t too far from Aaron’s place. It circled the sky, as if it were waiting for Herm, making sure he could find his way to the right park. Herm left the sidewalk and jogged down the hill, nearly tripping in the overgrown grass.
Emerald green popped out of the grey surroundings, skirting around the smoky lake in the middle. A flock of ducks had gathered around the near side, pushing each other up on the bank in their frenzy.
And, sitting down on a lone bench by the lakeside, was Aaron.
Herm slowed as he got closer. He hadn’t thought about what he would say once they found Aaron. Now, there were a million questions to sift through. Why? What happened? Was he okay?
He obviously wasn’t okay, and hadn’t been, so scratch that last one.
Denny’s voice wriggled its way to the front of Herm’s mind: “Why the fuck doesn’t he trust us?”
But, as he approached, he got rid of that, too. He was close enough to touch Aaron now, but he simply edged his way around to the periphery of Aaron’s vision and pocketed his hands to watch the ducks with him.
Aaron had a bag of bread in his hands. He tore off chunks at a time, though the rain made them expand and break apart almost before the pieces of bread could reach the water. The ducks squabbled with each other as they dove for each morsel, shoulder-to-shoulder with their brethren.
“Somebody told me that bread is bad for them,” Aaron said. Herm turned, trying to hide his shock. Aaron had been so quiet lately, Herm hadn’t really expected him to speak. “But I got the multigrain kind, so I hope it’s okay.”
“Alright if I grab some?”
Aaron held out the bag, and Herm reached in. He tore a piece off, and tossed it into the horde. Tens of beaks craned upwards, snapping at the air, then each other.
“You know, Aaron, these ducks remind me of something.”
“What’s that?”
“Me fighting in the soup kitchen.”
Aaron looked up at him, making Herm still. For a moment, there was that terrifying absent look on Aaron’s face, the one that Herm had seen in New York. But then the joke registered. Herm catalogued the smallest of changes: the dropping of his shoulders, the slight parting of Aaron’s mouth as a laugh bubbled out of him, the crinkle around his eyes.
It was an echo of Aaron’s old self, but Herm still relaxed at the sight.
“You can’t steal my joke, man.”
“Nah, it’s different, ‘cause I’m not comparing myself to a girl! And it’s a callback. Makes it funny now.”
“It was always funny!”
“Yeah.” Herm ripped a piece of bread and threw it. The duck he had followed finally made its descent, landing among its flock to nab it.
“Aaron motherfucking Branch!”
Denny sprinted down the hill from behind them. Back on the street, his car door was open, beeping its protest at him as its engine kept running. Seconds later, a second car screeched to a stop, and Kevin rushed towards them as well.
“It’s like a damn stampede,” Herm said. Aaron’s laugh, louder this time, rang in his ears, and he stopped himself from staring at his friend to memorise it.
Denny, though, had no such qualms. He halted, his faux-anger shifting into his sincere relief.
Denny sniffed, then charged towards Herm, shoving him in his attempt to track the fastest possible route to Aaron. “Get the fuck out of the way, ugly! Let me at my boogie!”
He collided with Aaron, wrapping his friend in his arms, even at the awkward angle with Aaron sitting down. Herm was sure that Denny would’ve vaulted over the bench if his height wasn’t a barrier.
Herm took a seat next to Aaron as Kevin joined his other side, slugging Aaron into a side-hug.
Denny reared back and punched Aaron in the arm.
“Hey! What the fuck, man?”
“Don’t you what-the-fuck me! I’m what-the-fucking you!” Denny exclaimed.
“Pause,” Kevin said, though it was muffled by Aaron’s arm as he patted Kevin’s back.
“Yeah, Aaron,” Herm said, “we was worried about you.”
“Don’t you ever do that to us again,” Denny warned, holding onto Aaron’s shoulders as he made intense eye contact. “Unless you want Herm to rob your ass. He broke your window, by the way.”
“Denzel! Not cool, man.”
“You broke my window?” Aaron guffawed. At least he seemed to take it in stride. “Why?”
“Didn’t have my lockpicks on me. Had to go old-school style.”
Aaron’s peels of laughter rang out above the pelting rain. “Why were you trying to rob me? And, what, were you just watching it happen, Denny?”
“Nah, man,” Kevin said, speaking for Denny before he said something else inflammatory. “We all rocked up because we were worried, like Herm said.”
Denny struggled for a moment, before choking out, “You just upped and disappeared on us.”
Aaron looked between the three of them. His brows were furrowed, as if he need to mull over what they were saying, as if he couldn’t see the worry on all of them. But, then, his eyes softened, and he looked down at the ground.
“I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t– I don’t think I was thinking straight. It’s been a rough few months.”
“We’ve noticed,” Herm said. Then, he grimaced. “Well, we’ve retrospectively noticed. What’s been going on with you, Aaron? You know we’re here for you.”
The yellow bracelet twisted around Aaron’s wrist.
“I used to have, like, anxiety issues as a kid,” Aaron began, voice more of a murmur, bogged down by shame. “Really badly. It was awful, and it would make the stutter worse – or maybe it was the other way around, maybe I was getting anxious ‘cause of the stutter. Chicken or the egg situation.” Aaron huffed a self-deprecating laugh. Herm squeezed Aaron’s shoulder, and the rest of them quieted as Aaron continued.
“Anyway, it’s just been kind of bad lately. And I don’t really know why, because it’s not like anything has changed. But I just couldn’t… like, bounce back? I don’t know if I’m making sense. But things were just getting to me in a way they hadn’t before, and people would say things and it would just loop endlessly in my brain. And I guess I thought, today, that, you know. You guys would be fine. Better off, even. Without me.”
Denny sucked in a breath. He looked like he wanted to scream at Aaron, but controlled himself, and then blinked up at the sky. Herm was sure that if it wasn’t raining, Denny would’ve turned his back, but the weather provided him cover for any alleged tears.
Kevin, ever the emotional wreck, also seemed to struggle to come up with a response as he processed Aaron’s words.
“That’s ridiculous,” Herm said. Kevin and Denny shot Herm a glare. “Nah, I don’t care if that’s being harsh. It’s what it is. Thirty minutes without you, and you got the world’s shortest hater Kendrick Lamar and Nelson Mandela over there going to pieces.”
“I’m not going to pieces!” Kevin protested.
Denny shook his head. “At least neither of us broke into Aaron’s house! On the scale of going-to-pieces, that’s pretty fucking up there!”
“You would’ve! I just thought of it first.”
“Nah, shut your bitch ass up. You’re a criminal. A-Boogie, when we get back, make sure you call the cops on Herm and get that insurance claim.”
Aaron giggled again. “Alright.”
“I’m being serious!” Denny exclaimed. “This man needs to be in jail!”
“Okay, so let me check I’ve got the story right. I didn’t turn up to the studio, so you all broke into my house–”
“Uh-uh, that was just Herm! Kevin and I were only trying to pay a house visit!”
“-but how’d you even find me?”
“You’re our ugly duckling,” Herm said, gesturing at the flock. “I figured you’d be with your family.”
“Be serious!”
“You told us,” Denny said. Kevin and Herm nodded.
“Yeah, Aaron, though I don’t see how this is calming,” Herm said, as he gestured at the ducks.
Aaron frowned. “When did I tell you that?”
“In Uno!” Kevin answered. “You were rambling about some duck in New York, and how you wanted to feed the ducks by your house, and how Herm’s a villain and is diseased. Or something like that.”
“Oh,” Aaron said. “I didn’t think you guys were listening to me.” They were silent for a moment, and then Aaron sniffled.
“No, don’t you dare start on me!” Denny protested, squishing in on the bench. “You’re gonna make me start!”
Herm scoffed. “You’ve been crying, Denzel.”
“It’s the fucking rain, man! You need glasses, your eyes are getting old–”
“Thank you,” Aaron said, laughing as he wiped his arm over his eyes, settling Denny down. “You guys are the best friends I could ask for.”
The three of them wallowed in Aaron’s sincerity. It was hard to believe him, when this all sort of felt like their fault, but that was Aaron for you.
Him and his big-ass heart.
“Give me some of this bread, God damn,” Denny said, snatching a few pieces and dividing it between himself and Kevin.
The four of them barely fit on the bench, and Herm was still convinced that these birds were full of diseases, but everything was right with the world as long as they were together and Aaron was laughing.
Everything, even if they were feeding the greediest ducks in L.A.