Chapter 14
Killian
Isnuck out of the house in the early hours of the morning. Thankfully, the weather had cleared up, and I ran to the station to grab the first train. I got home just in time to get my stuff ready, but my lift arrived.
“Yo, Killian.” My friend pushed the passenger door open, and I climbed in.
“Hi. Almost didn’t make it today.”
“You look fucking knackered, mate. I bet you were up all night. I’ve heard your reputation.”
I had been up all night, but not for the reasons he was thinking. I’d lain awake in the bed in Harvey’s house, listening for any sound that he might be up and about.
Fuck, I’d been worried. I stood and wanked in front of him, telling him to watch me, knowing the fucking trauma he’d been through.
He’d seemed as into it as I was, but who knew where his head would go? Did he regret it? Had it sent him spiralling out of control?
I’d fallen asleep a little after five, only to wake again at six-thirty, knowing then I’d get no more sleep. I slipped on my clothes, wrote him a quick note, and made my getaway.
Thinking back, I should have written something more in the note.
Told him what a good time I’d had last night because I had really enjoyed myself.
It had been a long time since I’d relived the past, but with Harvey, it had all seemed so easy.
He’d listened, shown concern, and actually heard my story.
Even Seth didn’t know all of it, and I’d known him for years.
Talking to Harvey, I relaxed, and then, of course, that happened.
What the fuck was I thinking? But in my defence, the look on his face when he saw me standing in my boxers made my dick take note straight away.
I’d not wanked or fucked anyone since Ash last week, and the attention of any man would have got me hard. But this was Harvey. A man I found very attractive.
It wasn’t my fucking fault that I couldn’t control my dick. It had a mind of its own.
Then he told me he was in control, and that was it. I’d gone for it. He’d watched me with interest, and I’d put on a show for him, loving the attention.
I saw him fumbling in his trousers and knew he was as turned on as me. Concern about what this could do to him mentally left me as my orgasm neared.
I’d come with such force that my knees gave way.
I’d tried to catch as much as I could in my hand, but some had spilt onto the floor.
I cleaned that up after he’d gone to his bedroom and closed the door.
I’d agonised all night over whether I’d brought him to the brink, that I’d wake in the morning to find he’d cut himself.
It wasn’t like he’d tell me. I knew from others that they rarely said anything, preferring to keep it to themselves, feeling shame and humiliation. I knew it had taken a lot for Harvey to show me the scars on his arms. There were a lot, and I was sure there’d be many more.
Finally, I remembered the question. I’d been so lost in my mind that I’d forgotten what he’d asked.
“Fuck off. I wasn’t with anyone last night. I just didn’t sleep well.”
“Hmm, the great Killian spending a night alone. Gotta be a record.”
“Hey, just because you shag anything that walks past you doesn’t mean I do.”
I was about to say I had standards, but the past God knows how many years had shown I had very little. But last week, I’d vowed to do something about it, and that was why I hadn’t picked up anyone other than Ash.
Last night with Harvey had been a breath of fresh air, so why did I feel so fucking awful?
A knot of something unpleasant sat in my gut, and it had nothing to do with the amount of food I’d eaten last night.
“Whoa, chill, dude. Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning.”
My mood wasn’t great, and for the rest of the journey, I stayed silent. Will, my friend, sensed my mood and said nothing more until we got closer to the venue.
“What’re you singing today? Me and the guys will back you up.”
Good question. You’d think I’d have been more prepared, but I didn’t have a clue. I could sing Breakeven again, but I’d begun to think of it as Harvey’s song, especially after seeing his tattoo.
“Do you know More Than Words?”
“Yeah, the Extreme song. We can do that, no problem. What time are you on?”
“No clue. I need to check when I get there.” With a bit of luck, it’d be early, and I could hitch a ride with someone else back to town and grab an early night.
First, though, I needed to message Harvey.
I dug out my phone and cursed. Of course I hadn’t put it on charge last night. I was down to my last ten percent. No way that’d last the day. I’d just have to wait until later.
We arrived at the festival. There’d been so much rain overnight that the ground was like a fucking swamp. My old boots wouldn’t survive. They already let in the rain, so fuck knows what they’d be like later.
Thankfully, someone took pity on me and gave me a pair of rubber boots to wear. Not the most attractive, but it was better than the alternative.
I stood out front and listened to the other bands performing. Some were okay, some were fucking awful, but a handful were great. It was good to be out there with the music for a change. This was what I’d always wanted, not fucking around and seeing what stuck.
Before long, it was my turn.
Will and I had managed a quick run-through. We agreed I’d sing the Extreme song, then move on to an old favourite, Brown Eyed Girl. The set was short, and that’d work.
As soon as the bars of the first song started, I was in the zone.
Every word I sang reminded me of Harvey; every note reminded me of him. I didn’t love him, that wasn’t it, but everything he’d said to me last night resonated with me. When he spoke, it was more than words. It was his heart and soul, his emotions, his highs and his lows.
I rarely got emotional when I sang, but this brought everything to the surface. I sang my heart out, put all I had into the song, and as the final bars sounded, I turned away from the audience, a flood of tears streaming down my face.
The applause was rapturous, just how I wanted it to be.
“Killian. Fuck, man. Are you okay?”
I scrubbed at my face with my shirt. “I’m good. Just, you know, it got to me.”
“You fucking killed it. They’re going mad for you.”
I finally turned back to the crowd, and they erupted again. I’d never in my life experienced anything like that, and my heart swelled.
I’d put my fucking heart into the song, and this was their reaction.
I put my hands up and thanked them. “Guys, you’re amazing. Thank you so much. That song is close to my heart. It reminds me of a friend and the struggles he’s going through, so yeah, it’s emotional. But let’s liven it up a bit.”
I turned to Will and nodded, and we flowed straight into the second song. Not quite the same reaction, but fuck, this was what I’d been missing all these years.
I left the stage on a high, exhilarated. What I wouldn’t have given for Harvey to be here to see this. But we were friends, nothing more, and I knew this wasn’t what he liked.
He was a homebird, and I needed to accept that. He left the house for work, and that was it.
I tracked down my boots and pulled them on. There was nothing more for me to do around here. I was tired and needed to sleep. I’d already found a group of guys and girls I knew who were willing to let me catch a ride home, and went to find them.
“Killian McDonagh?” A hand on my arm and a voice I didn’t recognise made me nervous.
“Yes? Who are you?” I faced a well-dressed man. He wore a pair of designer jeans tucked into a pair of Hunter boots, and he screamed money. He was well spoken, with an expensive watch on his wrist. What did he want with me?
“I’m Sullivan Jones. I’m a music agent. I saw what you did with the crowd out there. Colour me impressed. Do you have an agent?”
I shook my head. “I just sing in pubs and bars.”
“You have a unique voice. I loved what you did with the first song. So much emotion and raw passion. My record label is looking for talent like yours.”
“Is this a fucking wind-up?” I’d spent years on the circuit trying to get noticed, and it had never happened. Was someone taking the piss?
“I’m dead serious. Take my card, and if you’re interested, give me a call.”
He placed a silver-edged business card in my hand and walked off. I stared after him, open-mouthed. Did that just fucking happen?
Will appeared from nowhere. “Who was that?”
I looked at the card. “Someone called Sullivan Jones. Do you know him?”
“Fuck, yeah. He owns some up-and-coming music label. If you’ve caught his eye, then you’re going places, my friend. Don’t forget us when you’re living the high life.”
I doubted that was true, but I tucked it into my pocket. My ride shouted, so I said goodbye to Will and made my way over to them.
We piled into a decrepit camper van, and I wondered if we’d make it home, but two hours and a lot of stops later, I was back home in my rundown flat.
Who could I tell about this stroke of luck? Certainly not my parents or Seth. I’d not heard from him at all, and it was then I realised I was as alone as Harvey.
I had no close friends to call, no lover to snuggle up with on the sofa and talk about the future.
The one person I wanted to tell likely wasn’t talking to me after the shitty note I left earlier, and I vowed to call him the moment I had some life in my phone.
I searched the kitchen cupboards for the vodka to celebrate before remembering I’d poured the last lot down the toilet. The best place for it, really, so I settled on a glass of tap water and let my mind wander.
I knew nothing of the music industry. I’d wandered around from bar to bar, hoping to get noticed, but when that hadn’t happened, I’d resigned myself to being a casual singer. At some point, I’d need to find a real job and put this behind me, but after today, maybe I didn’t need to do that.
If I had internet, I could check out Sullivan Jones, but my phone was still charging.
I read the card again.
Sullivan Jones – Jupiter Records
There was a mobile number and an email address, too.
What the fuck would I say if I called? This was something I’d always wanted, but now it could become a reality, I panicked.
Surely, I was too old. Who’d want to listen to my old, croaky voice? And look at the state of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a proper haircut, and my beard had grown so much; it really needed a trim.
I checked the phone again. It had completely died on the way home; the battery was dry. I’d had the phone for years. When you lived as much on the breadline as I did, new phones were a luxury I couldn’t afford. This did the job, but the battery was slowly giving out.
Another half an hour should see it right. I lay on the sofa and closed my eyes. I needed to catch up on my sleep.
I’d just shut them for five minutes.
Two hours later, I woke up shivering.
I rarely put the heating on, not that it helped much, and now the temperature had dropped, I rubbed my arms trying to get some warmth into them. Maybe I should stick the heating on to take away the chill.
I heard scurrying as I stood up and cursed the stupid fucking mouse. At least I hoped it was a mouse. Can you imagine if I were sharing my flat with a rat? I hated the little critters. I’d seen enough of them in my time, and I had no desire to see them again.
I pulled on a jumper out of my wardrobe. If this Sullivan offer was legit, I could afford a new wardrobe. Hell, I could afford a new flat. No more mice. No more rats, and no more fucking freezing feet.
I eventually found my phone. Considering it had been on charge for two hours, the battery was only at fifty percent. No one had called, and other than the texts with Harvey from a few days ago, there was nothing else.
Not even Seth called these days, and that was probably for the best. He always said I’d make it to the big time. But I was getting ahead of myself. Nothing had happened yet. Some guy had given me a card; that was all. There were no contracts, no worldwide tours. It was just a card.
I recalled how I’d left things with Harvey. The noncommittal note, the early morning dart. Would he want to hear from me? I told him I’d be in touch, and nine times out of ten, I was a man of my word.
Killian: Hey, not long been home. Gig went well. Some bigshot agent gave me his fucking card. Can you believe it? Anyway, just checking in. Sorry for the early dart, K.
Would he respond? Only time would tell.