Untitled Document

As soon as we arrived back in New York, everything shifted into high gear. Three days afterward I kept my appointment with Dr. Hewitt – as with many of appointments with him, part of its intent was to make absolutely sure it was only exhaustion that had caused my collapse in Montreal. Thankfully, that was all it had been. Dr. Hewitt had also written a new prescription for the medication that kept my seasonal affective disorder under control – it didn’t usually rear its ugly head until around late November, but that depended entirely on the weather and how miserable the CFS had been making me feel. It often made me wonder just why I lived in New York in the first place.

At the beginning of October, the official announcement about the Halloween concert was posted on the main page of Hanson.net, ensuring that nobody had any excuse for overlooking it. I could tell in an instant that it had been written and posted by Mark.

I looked up from my laptop at Isobel. She was halfway through packing most of her belongings into a series of boxes, despite the fact that we weren’t due to move for another two weeks.

“To the Halloween concert?” I asked, so I could clarify what she meant, and she nodded. “I was considering it. Only problem is that I don’t know what I could wear – I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years.”

I leaned back in my seat and thought about it. “Well, one year, our parents dressed Mark and I up as Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy.” I smirked. “Guess who had to wear the dress.”

Isobel let loose a peal of laughter. “Oh, that is priceless! I hope your parents got photos.”

“They did, but Mark torched them a few years ago. Mom did keep the negatives, though, so if I ask her nicely I might be able to borrow them and get prints run up. I’ll just have to be careful Mark doesn’t catch wind.”

I let out a laugh of my own. “I like the way you think, Issie. Mark would do anything to make sure those photos never saw the light of day ever again.”

Isobel grinned at this. “Look, I’ll tell you what – I was going to keep this as a surprise, but I’ll show you if you promise not to tell everyone else.” When I nodded, she went to her closet and took out a coathanger. Whatever it was that was hanging off of it had been concealed with what looked like a bed sheet that had a hole cut in the middle. “Maybe this will give you a little bit of inspiration.” And with those words, she lifted the front edge of the sheet.

My first reaction was a very low whistle. This, I had to assume, was Isobel’s Halloween costume. It was essentially little more than a very short pleated red-and-green tartan skirt, red-and-green striped tie, white blouse, black blazer and a pair of fishnet stockings. “Wow,” was all I could manage to say, my voice slightly strangled.

“I take it you like?” she asked, and I nodded emphatically. “Excellent. I have a pair of knee-high boots that I plan to wear as well – if I’m going to go as a naughty schoolgirl, then I’m going to go all out.”

“Well, I definitely approve,” I said. “I don’t suppose you have an ulterior motive in mind?”

“Well, it’s just that…” I swallowed hard. “The thought of you wearing that…let’s just say that it’s lucky you’re not wearing it right now.”

“Oh,” Isobel said, flushing bright red. “Well, no, that wasn’t my intention, but if it gets you to react like that then I’m not complaining.” She grinned wickedly before concealing her costume once more.

While Isobel worked at packing most of her clothes away, I opened up Outlook Express on my laptop and clicked the ‘Send/Receive’ button to check if I had any new mail. And sure enough, I did – it had been sent by one of my old college roommates.

I sat back a little as I finished reading the email. This was truly the opportunity of a lifetime, one that I would be insane to pass up. It was the chance to use the skills I had learned during college for something other than working with my brothers’ music – work for which I had always insisted I wanted to remain uncredited. Sometimes I did regret it, but I always reminded myself that some of the more immature and critical members of the Hanson fan community would call favouritism were my name to be mentioned. Having my name kept out of it had suited me well enough so far, so I saw no point in changing things.

But then I looked over at Isobel, and reality came crashing in on me. To accept this job offer would mean I’d have to leave her behind – and there was no way in the world I was prepared to do that. No amount of money would be enough for me to agree to it.

“Well, this is just brilliant,” I muttered as I hibernated my laptop. Either way I went about it, there was no way both Isobel and I could benefit. If I accepted the offer, in all likelihood we would have to break up. But on the other hand, if I rejected it then I would lose this chance. It was a no-win situation if ever there was one.

That night, I dug my webcam out of my desk drawer and clipped it to the lid of my laptop, uncoiling the USB cord so I could plug it into the sole free port left out of the three I had on my computer. The other two were occupied by the receiver for my wireless mouse and the cooling pad I used to stop my laptop from overheating. As soon as my computer let me know that the webcam was connected, I opened up Windows Live Messenger and signed in. It was time for my weekly video chat with my mother.

“Ave, get off the computer,” I sighed when I saw who was signed into my mother’s account.

“What for?” Avery asked. “I’m trying to do my homework if you don’t mind.”

My sister scowled. “Mac decided he was taking it over tonight,” she grumbled. “Won’t let me anywhere near it until he beats the campaign in Shadows of Undrentide.”

“Mmm-hmm. Mom won’t let him install it on his computer, so he thinks it’s his right to kick me off of mine. Never mind that it was my game to begin with.”

I raised my hands, palms facing the camera. “Okay, hold up Ave. How old are you exactly?”

“You should know how old I am,” she replied, sounding a little indignant. “Considering that you were almost eight when I was born.”

“Thirteen.” A calculating look appeared on Avery’s face, and she grinned evilly. “Excuse me, Taylor. I need to tell our annoying little brother to get out of my bedroom.”

She snapped a mock military salute and got up out of the chair. As she left what I knew was my parents’ study I heard her yell, “Joshua Mackenzie Hanson, you had better get the hell off of my computer!”

I let out a quiet snicker and leaned back in my chair, and waited for my mother to make her appearance.

“Well Taylor, I don’t know what you said to her,” Mom said as she sat down before the computer back at home, “but she’s back to her old self again.”

I shrugged. “All I did was remind her that she’s older than Mac. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“It certainly worked. She still hasn’t stopped ranting at him.” I laughed at this, and Mom smiled. “Enough about Avery for the moment, I think. How are you feeling?” I looked at her blankly, and she elaborated, “Isobel was kind enough to let me know what happened in Montreal.”

“Oh.” I looked down at the keyboard of my laptop momentarily. “I’m still feeling a bit out of sorts,” I admitted.

“I thought you might be,” Mom said, her tone sympathetic. “You’re looking very pale.”

“That, and I’m still exhausted almost all of the time.” I tapped my fingers on the top of my desk. “Stephen gave me the month off, though – he basically told me that he didn’t want to see me anywhere near work until November.” I shifted slightly in my seat. “Hopefully that’ll be long enough to come back from this.”

“Keep in mind what Dr. Horton told you,” Mom reminded me. “It could get worse at any time. This just may be what he meant.”

“Yeah, I know.” I managed a very tight smile. “I’ve had close to eight good years, though – if it ends up that this is how things will be from now on, then that’s something I’ll have to learn to live with. I accept that.”

I decided at that moment to bring up the job offer I had received. “Do you remember Brad Whittingham?” I asked.

“He was one of my roommates at college.” I paused. “He emailed me today with a job offer. Wants me to be the studio producer for a new branch of his production company.”

“That’s wonderful!” Mom said. “Oh Taylor, please tell me you said yes.”

I decided to come straight out with it. “Mom…the job’s in Australia. If I took the job, I’d have to move to the other side of the world.” I dropped my gaze. “I’d have to leave Issie behind,” I finished quietly.

“I love her so much, Mom,” I admitted. “And the thought of being away from her for even half a day…it actually hurts. I-I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but at the same time I want to take this job – it’s the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ll probably never get another chance like this. But no matter what I decide, we’ll both get hurt.”

“Not necessarily.” I saw her gaze dip down to where I knew her left hand had to be – where I knew her wedding ring sat.

“I’m quite serious. This way, you’re both happy. You can accept this new job offer, and the two of you won’t have to be separated.”

“You are two years older than your father and I were when we got married,” was my mother’s response. “If you were, say, nineteen, then I would be inclined to agree with you. But you’re almost twenty-five – that’s plenty old enough.”

“There’s also the fact that we haven’t even been dating a year,” I said stubbornly. “Six-and-a-half months – that’s it. And I’ve only known her for eight.”

“Plenty of couples get engaged when they’ve been dating for less than that.”

I took in a deep breath. “Mom, believe me, I do want to marry her one day. B-but not yet. I’m not ready to take that step.” My eyes dropped closed briefly. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready.”

“I promise you, Tay – when you’re ready, you’ll know. That much I know is true.”

Isobel scowled at me, brandishing the black eyeliner pencil that she had been trying to use on me for the last ten minutes. “If you don’t hold still I just might,” she growled. “Jesus H. Christ, haven’t you ever worn makeup before?”

“You’d be very surprised. I know of plenty of guys who wear it. And besides, it’s just for the one night. When we get home after the show I’ll show you how to take it all off.” And here she smirked. “You should be very fucking grateful I’m not making you wear mascara. That shit is a pain in the arse. Now come on, look up…”

I sighed and raised my gaze to the ceiling, trying not to shudder as Isobel ran the eyeliner just below each of my eyes, along the curve of my eyelashes. She did the same to my upper eyelids after I’d closed my eyes. “Next, eye shadow,” she proclaimed.

“Then black it is.” She tapped my right eyebrow with one very long fingernail. “Close it.”

“You haven’t got lipstick on yet,” Isobel said. “Now that is torture. And I ought to know.”

“But it’s all part of the look,” I sighed. “I know.” I curled my hands into fists. “Do your worst.”

“Oh, I intend to.” I could almost hear the grin in her voice as she said these four words.

It felt almost an eternity before Isobel was completely done. “Right, you can open your eyes now,” she said cheerfully. “Go put your costume on, then we can do your nails and hair.”

“I hope you’re not still planning on dyeing my hair,” I said as I got to my feet. “I like my hair the way it is, thank you very much.”

“No, I have a much better idea.” She patted a white cardboard box that sat on the kitchen table. “By the time I get completely done with you, you’ll be near unrecognisable.”

Two full weeks had now passed since Isobel and I had moved into our own apartment in Brooklyn Heights. We’d chosen this particular apartment for a few reasons – the building was pet-friendly and wheelchair-accessible, and the rent was reasonably inexpensive. Not only that, but it had come already partially furnished – a refrigerator, stove, kitchen table and chairs, and a couch had been set up when we’d moved in. We’d had to provide everything else ourselves, but it had definitely made moving in a lot less expensive. It was strange not being around my brother and sister every day, though at the same time I loved having a little more freedom and independence.

Opting not to glance at my reflection until I was completely ready, I closed the bedroom door behind me and studied the two costumes laid out atop our neatly-made bed. Isobel’s ‘naughty schoolgirl’ costume, as she had christened it, was set out on her side, with her black leather kneehigh boots on the floor at the end of the bed. Part of my own costume, consisting of a long-sleeved shirt, Rolling Stones T-shirt, and cargo pants had been laid out on my side, with my army boots sitting next to Isobel’s knee-highs. The trench coat I had bought from a secondhand store while we were in Canada was hanging from a hook on the back of our bedroom door. In keeping with my costume’s theme, along with the makeup that Isobel had talked me into wearing, my entire outfit was black.

It was hilarious, really. I’d never even considered becoming part of the goth subculture, and yet here I was dressing up as one for Halloween.

Once I was dressed, being careful not to smear my makeup as I pulled my shirts on over my head, I went back out into the kitchen, carrying my boots and a pair of socks in one hand and my coat over a shoulder. Isobel had packed most of her makeup away by this time, with a bottle of nail polish – black, of course – set out on the table.

“You should probably put your boots on before I do your nails,” Isobel said. She’d put her own makeup on by this time, already having done her nails the night before – bright red lipstick, smoky grey eye shadow and black eyeliner. “Don’t want you wrecking my hard work.”

“How long is it going to take to dry?” I asked, making note of the time that the clock on the wall above the sink displayed – three-thirty in the afternoon.

“Not very long – the bottle says 90 seconds. But I’ll probably do three coats just to make sure it’s as dark as possible. So give it about four-and-a-half minutes, five tops.”

I nodded and set about pulling my socks and boots on, doing up the laces as tightly as I could without cutting off the circulation to my feet. As soon as I was done Isobel sat down next to me, opened the bottle of nail polish, and set to work.

Five-thirty saw us arriving at Mark and Jessica’s apartment. We’d opted to leave Ratchet in the care of a neighbour for the evening. From behind the front door I could hear loud music, raucous laughter and the occasional swear word. Right as I went to knock Isobel caught my hand up, shaking her head, before nodding at a sign on the door that read NO TRICK OR TREATERS. With a very cheeky grin she drew in a deep breath and yelled, “Trick or treat!”

The door was wrenched open bare seconds later to reveal Mark in full Dracula regalia. The look on his face as he stared at Isobel and I could only be described as priceless.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” I replied. I peered over the rims of my glasses at my twin and noted that his eyes were red instead of their usual blue. “Nice contacts.”

Mark stuck his tongue out at me, before turning his attention to Isobel. He let out a low whistle. “Damn Tay, you definitely know how to pick ‘em,” he said.

“I’ll thank you not to stare at my girlfriend’s legs,” I said as Mark stepped aside to allow Isobel and I entrance. “I’m sure Schuyler has a perfectly nice pair of her own that you can eye off.”

“I can feel my ears burning!” Schuyler yelled out from the direction of the kitchen. I grinned and headed off to see what she was up to. As it turned out, she was working Jessica’s hair into a very elaborate French braid, one that had ribbons of various colours woven into it. Zac for his part was seated on the kitchen bench, watching the proceedings from beneath the brim of what looked like Jack Sparrow’s tricorn hat. “Planning on a bit of piracy, are we?” I asked him, noting that he had essentially copied Johnny Depp’s entire Pirates of the Caribbean getup.

“Whoa,” Schuyler said when she caught sight of me. “Tay, please tell me that you didn’t dye your hair,” she said, almost sounding as if she were pleading.

“Fuck no,” I said. “I like my hair colour the way it is, thank you very much.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” She squinted at me. “I should have known it was fake anyway,” she laughed. “Your hair is not that straight.”

“Very good Einstein,” I said sarcastically. I took my phone from a pocket of my coat, flipped it open and glanced at its screen – the time read six o’clock. “So when were you lot planning to head out?” I asked as I closed my phone again.

“About six-thirty or so,” Zac replied. “Just as soon as Alli and Isaac decide they want to show up.”

“Burlesque dancer,” she replied, before nodding toward the living room. “And Mark’s the one who turned me into a vampire.” Almost as if emphasising this point, she bared her teeth at me to reveal a set of very convincing fangs. “Jess here is a gypsy, I heard something about Isla dressing as a can-can dancer, and if I recall correctly Alli and Isaac are coming as gangsters.”

We ended up heading downtown just before six-thirty. I knew from experience that on foot it took slightly more than half an hour to get to where the concert would be held that evening, and because I knew my brothers would be wanting to rehearse tonight’s set list we needed to get there as early as possible. Especially considering that we were walking instead of driving.

“This is going to be a very interesting show,” Schuyler said as we headed down Broadway.

“Tell me about it,” I replied. “Have you seen the set list for tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” she replied. “I knew there had to be a reason they’re restricting entry tonight. They should be grateful your parents aren’t in town.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been better, honestly. The tour really did a number on me.”

“Yeah, I heard about you freaking everyone out during the Montreal show. It wasn’t anything serious?”

I shook my head. “No, thank goodness. It was just my CFS deciding it wanted to fuck with me again.”

The time before the show practically flew by. As Isobel and I were heading to our seats, my phone’s text message tone went off, and I pulled it out of my pocket. “What’s it say?” Isobel asked.

“Hang on,” I murmured as I scanned through the message, which was from Mark. Show sold out, venue @ full capacity – about 89 grand raised, are we good or what? “They’ve raised about $89,000 from ticket sales,” I told Isobel as I returned my phone to my pocket. “And not a cent of that is going in their pockets.”

The house lights went down as we seated ourselves, and within moments the very familiar beginning of Capricorn (A Brand New Name) by 30 Seconds To Mars sounded, the stage lights going up right as Mark started to sing.

“So I run and hide and tear myself up…start again with a brand new name…and eyes that see into infinity…

“I will disappear…I told you once and I’ll say it again…I want my message read clear…I’ll show you the way, the way I’m going…

“So I run and hide and tear myself up…start again with a brand new name…and eyes that see into infinity…

“I was almost there…just a moment away from becoming unclear…ever get the feeling you’re gone…I’ll show you the way, the way I’m going…

“So I run and hide and tear myself up…start again with a brand new name…and eyes that see into infinity…

“So I run, start again…with a brand new name…with a brand new name…so I run and hide and tear myself up…so I run…start again…I’ll start again with a brand new name…with a brand new name…and eyes that see into infinity…with a brand new name…I will disappear…”

The cheer that went up as the song ended was close to deafening. I saw Mark grin as he held up his hands for quiet.

“Well, that was quite the welcome,” he said once the noise level had dropped a few notches. “Just before we go on with the next song, I should warn you all that this is not your usual Hanson concert. Because all of you are aged 18 and over, we’re letting ourselves go a little in terms of language and whatnot, and so many of the songs tonight are going to be a little…” He trailed off, as if he were searching for the right words. “Risqué, for want of a better word. So if you don’t think you can handle that, I’d advise you to leave now.”

I leaned in close to whisper in Isobel’s ear, “If they can’t handle the thought of Hanson swearing, they shouldn’t have watched Strong Enough To Break.” She snorted at this, but any other response she might have made was lost in the wall of noise that erupted as the second song on the set list, Buckcherry’s Crazy Bitch, kicked off.

That night’s show was probably one of the most rocking concerts I’d attended for any band. The audience seemed to know that a set list composed solely of covers – especially when they were songs that would never usually be covered by Hanson in any setting – was a true rarity with my brothers, and so to me they were enjoying the show a lot more than usual. Peppered throughout the show between songs were comments on costumes worn by individual audience members, sarcastic remarks courtesy of Zac, and the odd dirty joke on behalf of Mark.

When Mark announced the final song of the night, I could hardly believe that almost an hour-and-a-half had already passed. To me, that was the mark of a great concert – you enjoyed yourself so much that you didn’t notice how fast time was passing.

“Before we play our last song, we want to thank you all for coming out tonight,” Mark said. “And thank you all for your support over not only this last year, but the last decade – it has been absolutely invaluable to us.” He adjusted the strap of his guitar on his shoulder. “This song was originally recorded by Queen, and goes by the name of I Want It All.”

I sat up a little straighter in my seat. The three of them had shared out the songs between them tonight, so there really was no telling who would be singing lead on the final song. As soon as the first verse started, because for the first four lines all three of them sang together, I found out – Mark had drawn this one.

“Adventure seeker on an empty street…just an alley creeper, light on his feet…a young fighter screaming with no time for doubt…with the pain and anger, can’t see a way out…it ain’t much
I’m asking, I heard him say…gotta find me a future, move out of my way…

“I want it all…I want it all…I want it all…and I want it now…I want it all…I want it all…I want it all…and I want it now…

“Listen all you people, come gather ‘round…I gotta get me a game plan, gotta shake you to the ground…just give me what I know is mine…people do you hear me, just give me the sign…it ain’t much I’m asking, if you want the truth…here’s to the future for the dreams of youth…

“I want it all…give it all…I want it all…I want it all…and I want it now…I want it all…yes I want it all…I want it all, hey…I want it all…and I want it now…

“I’m a man with a one track mind, so much to do in one lifetime…people do you hear me…not a man for compromise and where’s and why’s and living lies…so I’m living it all…yes I’m living it all…and I’m giving it all…and I’m giving it all…

“It ain’t much I’m asking if you want the truth…here’s to the future, hear the cry of youth…hear the cry, hear the cry of youth…I want it all…I want it all…I want it all…and I want it now…I want it all, yeah, yeah, yeah…I want it all…I want it all…and I want it now…I want it now…I want it…I want it…”

I smiled wryly as the song ended, knowing that the lyrics almost mirrored the situation I now found myself in. I wanted to be with Isobel, and I wanted to accept the job I had been offered. But unless I found a way to satisfy both desires, I would never be happy.

“We will see you all in 2008,” Mark said as the three of them prepared to leave the stage. “Whatever you’ll be celebrating this holiday season, stay safe and enjoy yourselves.”

“And don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Zac said from behind his drums, eliciting a wave of laughter.

I was quiet as Isobel and I left the hall – something that she noticed after I hadn’t spoken for about five minutes. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked as she pulled her coat on over her costume.

“No, we’re going to head home,” Isobel said. “It’s getting late, and we don’t want to impose Ratchet on our neighbours any longer than we need to.” She nudged me with an elbow. “Plus Tay’s tired.”

“He’s always tired,” Jessica called back. “But we’ll see you guys soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, no worries,” Isobel replied. She turned to me and gave me a smile. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

| chapter index |

Chapter title credit:

This Is Halloween – Citizens of Halloween Town, from The Nightmare Before Christmas

Lyric credits:

Capricorn (A Brand New Name) – 30 Seconds To Mars
I Want It All – Queen

+ 'The Land of the Long White Cloud' is another name for New Zealand, and is the rough English translation of the Maori name for the country, Aotearoa.
+ UNAIDS is another name for the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS.