16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Hugo
N erves beset me from the moment I stepped into the Stanley Theatre, and they didn’t stop. Thornton Graves’s documentary about the rise of Grindstone was the reason for the crowd gathered in the theater. I had my own personal reasons, of course. I found my seat in the theater and plopped my butt into it.
I hated my uncomfortable suit. In my previous life, with Gavin, I wore tuxedos regularly. Often, before that, when attending charity functions with my parents. Since the day Gavin walked out, I’d purposefully avoided events that required some kind of formal attire.
A suit jacket is hardly formal attire. And you’re not even wearing a tie. Stop whining.
Since the media had descended in full force, and there was an actual red carpet for some guests, I probably should’ve dressed up a bit more. I was standing on principle though—I wasn’t a celebrity or invited guest. Much to my irritation, Merkerson had procured the ticket. Only one, of course.
Renee was on bed rest, but she totally would’ve given me Cope for a few hours. Her pregnancy was proving more challenging, and after some definitely heated arguments, she’d agreed to take sick leave from her job so she could take care of both herself and the twins. Whose gender I still didn’t know. Neither did my friends, apparently. Surprise us , had been their attitude.
While secretly admitting to me that two healthy babies was all that really mattered. And gender was, especially to Cope, a continuum. In his practice, he saw a wide variety of clients who identified differently than the narrow construct of the binary.
A hush fell over the crowd, and then wild applause as the first notes of “Sunrise” played through the sound system. Eventually, the screen lit and Axel’s face focused into view. “I have made a lot of mistakes in my day. I might not deserve to be forgiven for all of them, but I hope one day I’ll find—” He gazed right into the camera. “—redemption.”
And thus began a ninety-eight-minute odyssey into the myth and the legend that was Grindstone. Truthfully, I figured I’d known most of their story—having been there for the early, formative years. Their first guitars, their first lessons…and they both mentioned and thanked me.
That made heat rush to my cheeks. Especially when they showed a picture of the three of us. I shrank a little in my seat.
No one around me appeared to notice.
Truthfully, our four years together was just a fraction of a slice of their lives.
I’d known what had come before hadn’t been good. I was right on that front. They only touched on it briefly—Ed’s mother’s suicide and the abuse Axel suffered at the hands of his parents. Parents who completely disavowed their son and, to the best of my knowledge, hadn’t come around looking for a payout. Axel wasn’t rich—yet—but that time could certainly come.
So many moments—mostly candid moments—caught me off guard.
The drug abuse was a known entity. The extent of it hadn’t been reported.
Toiling away in some pretty sleazy venues was known. The struggle to get studio time and the compromises they’d had to make weren’t, at least to me, something I’d been made aware of.
Finally, came Kyesha.
Thornton Graves’s younger adopted sister.
Clearly, Ed and Axel hadn’t been aware of that relationship before they’d embarked on the documentary. Just as evident was that this wasn’t the hit piece Thornton had clearly envisioned. Without question, he’d expected to find two arrogant men who never thought of the young woman Thornton had believed—erroneously—whose death they were responsible for.
My heart ached for Axel and Ed as they recounted the painful circumstances surrounding Kyesha’s death. A police officer from Vancouver even agreed to be interviewed to confirm Axel and Ed weren’t even in the city when she died… and that someone else sold her the toxic drugs that killed her.
Wow. Just…wow.
Interspersed with the pain was the meteoric overnight success that took ten years to come to fruition. Well, more, if I calculated the time they spent with me. Fourteen years of hard work. Twenty-three years of an intense and intimate friendship.
Ed’s admission he was bi didn’t come as a surprise to me—but clearly it did for some in the audience. He and Thornton had been in pictures together at last week’s launch party for the album—but no photographer had caught them in an intimate pose. Something told me, if the body language I’d caught earlier in the lobby was any indication, that was about to change. Oh, and the rings on their fingers. Whether engagement or wedding, I wouldn’t speculate.
As the doc ended—with Pauletta letting them know they had a contract to produce an album with Grand Central Records—strains of “Sunrise” came up again. Now, of course, knowing the song was about Kyesha and the profound impact the woman’s life—and death—had on Ed and Axel, the poignancy was even more profound.
I might’ve teared up.
A few sniffles sounded from nearby.
The ending credits rolled, and everyone got to their feet and applauded.
Mickey, the director, took the mic. They smiled at everyone. “Thank you for being part of the last leg of our incredible journey. I want to thank Thornton, Lydia, Kato, and everyone else who worked on the post-production of this film. Most specifically, I wish to thank Grindstone. Their openness with us made them vulnerable, but I also believe it’s made us all better people for having watched this. For having been part of their journey.” They pointed. “I’ve asked Thornton to say a few words, but he incorrectly said I’d be better with them.” They rolled their eyes. “Drinks and food in the lobby.”
More applause and laughter.
A technician took the mic from Mickey and then I noticed them go right up to Pauletta and kiss her.
Okay, so that’s interesting. Because Big Mac and Meg were holding hands, the couple introduced as Kato and Lydia—sound and photography—were also close together.
Finally, as I entered the lobby, I spotted Ed tucked into Thornton’s side.
Oh God, they’re adorable. Complete opposites in looks, but obviously very similar in temperaments. Ed had always been the level-headed one. That trait was clear throughout the documentary. Axel tended to be more of a loose cannon. His impetuousness appeared somewhat curbed for the film. My memories of him sucking my cock assured me some of the spontaneousness from before still lingered.
And now, I had to find him.
A server passed by with a tray of champagne flutes.
When I hesitated, she smiled. “Non-alcoholic is on the table.”
Not the reason for my hesitation, but I offered a genuine smile. “Brilliant idea. Thank you kindly.”
She nodded, then headed off.
Truthfully, I didn’t want a glass in my hand. I had something else I needed to do. Something burning a hole in my pocket that I needed to give to—
I spotted Axel.
He was speaking to two younger women I didn’t recognize. He offered them a smile, but he didn’t look thrilled to be there. Whether with the women themselves or this entire shindig, I wasn’t certain.
Slowly, I approached.
One of the women spotted me and grinned. “The high school music teacher. Not so clean-shaven and short-haired anymore.” She indicated my beard and long hair. “I love the sixties vibe.”
“More like the lazy vibe.”
The two women laughed.
Axel stared.
Okay, super lame. Yet I remembered how his fingers felt as he scratched my beard. How that level of intimacy had—
“Ladies, if you don’t mind…I need to speak to Mr. Threadgold.” Axel said my name with just the right amount of bite to have me on edge.
“Sure.” The woman who’d spotted me grinned. “We can catch up later.”
“Yeah.” Axel pressed a kiss to her cheek.
The woman pinkened. Then she and her companion moved away.
I slid the CD out from my jacket pocket and attempted to hand it to Axel.
He cocked his head, but made no move to take it.
Distractedly, I noted his hair was much longer than the near buzz cut he’d had in October. Six months felt like a lifetime ago. “Please take it.”
“What is it?” His attempt at disinterest failed as I caught the glint of something in his eye. Intrigue?
I could work with that. “These are a few of your old songs. I laid tracks and my students sang them—”
“I told you to burn those songs.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a corner. Then, as if realized he was touching me, he dropped his grasp like he’d been scalded.
“You didn’t mean it.” We’d been joking around.
Hadn’t we? He’d said something about a bonfire at Buntzen Lake, but I’d interpreted that as his just being silly. Judging by the look on his face—the one I hadn’t seen in my tent that night that felt like a million years ago—I’d misjudged.
“You promised me.” His voice carried almost a tone of menace.
“No, I didn’t.” I would’ve remembered agreeing to that. Mostly because I never would have.
“You…” He scrunched up his face, as if in distaste. “You used me. All those years ago, playing on my feelings—”
“First, I didn’t know you had feelings. Second, I didn’t use you.” I sighed. “I kept those songs because they’re meant to be out in the world. Yes, they’re not something you might sing now, although “I See You” has shades of that old composition style.”
“I will not be derailed.” He glared. “Although I’m glad you like the song.” Then, as if realizing what he’d said, his face hardened again. “You used me, Hugo. There’s no other way to put it.”
“No, I honestly didn’t. Look…” I ran my hand not holding the CD through my hair. “Just listen to me. What you overheard isn’t what you think—”
“Oh, so you didn’t track me down on purpose?” He cocked his head with a disconcerting smile on his face.
“Well…actually…” I winced. “I did, but it’s not what you think. And what we did has nothing to do with this—”
“It has everything to do with that. I trusted you. All those years ago and six months ago. You betrayed that trust.” He moved closer.
As did I. I pressed the CD against his chest.
“I’m only going to say this once.” His tone took on a menace I’d never heard from him before. “Fuck off. Just fuck right fucking off. Don’t ever come near me again. Don’t ever talk to me again. You’re dead to me.”
His words resonated in my chest and squeezed the air from my lungs. “Could you…just listen to me?” I have to make him see —
“No, I won’t listen to you.” He eyed me, as if taking my measure. “You wanted publicity? You’re about to get it.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
His smile was malevolent. No other word for it.
“Axel—”
“No. You promised.” Axel pivoted and stalked out of the room.
I started to follow him. I had to make him see—had to make him understand.
The silence, which I hadn’t noticed, now became deafening.
Spinning, I found everyone in the lobby staring at me. Specifically, Ed, Thornton, Pauletta and Mickey gaped.
Well, I read Ed’s stare as anger. If he was mad at me, I deserved it.
My cheeks heated and, even under the beard, they’d be red. I considered trying to make some excuse. To say anything. But words failed me.
And I fled.