Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I nformation overload was real.
I clicked pause on yet another video. I didn't know how long I'd spent researching Ren and Feral Silence on the internet. It must have been hours at least. I still wasn't any closer to the answers I sought. I didn't know what to do with Ren's phone number. Should I call like I promised? Or should I stay away like Mark had suggested?
I had so many questions, the most important one being: why did he leave? I thought maybe Ren's disappearance would be explained in one of his videos or interviews. Surely he must have answered questions about his past at least once. But every piece of information available about Ren stopped as of five years ago. It was like he didn't exist before he joined Feral Silence.
I had other questions as well.
Why hadn't he told anyone? Leaving home is one thing, but he snuck off into the night and we never heard from him again.
Why had he changed so much? Ren didn't seem like the somber, withdrawn person I'd grown up with. It was a good change—of course it was—but had he also changed in other ways? How many of those changes weren't so good? Why were there so many rumors about Ren's band and their behavior toward their female fans? Was it based on truth or was the media exaggerating?
And why the hell had Ren joined a rock band of all things? He had been an impressive classical musician back when I knew him and he had only gotten better in the years since. He could have gotten a spot in any first-class symphony he wanted. He could have been one of the greats.
Why throw that all away to play bass guitar in some rock band ?
It was a fact that classical music took more skill than just bashing away at a guitar on stage and screaming into a microphone. Ren's violin solos brought people to tears. Could shrieking fangirls really be more of an incentive than touching the hearts of an audience?
Then again, Ren was a guy. Having girls fall all over themselves to be with you was probably every man's dream.
Was that what Ren was like now? If so, I didn't know what to do.
My thoughts were going in circles. I changed tactics, closing all the browser tabs with Feral Silence info and opening a new tab to look at job sites. I still needed to find a way to pay for my tuition.
I felt a glimmer of hope as I checked tutoring websites. Teaching kids how to play music would be a fun challenge. My hopes were quickly crushed. I couldn't find any openings for cello instructors. Everyone wanted to play the electric guitar or drums. Cello was a bit too obscure for most kids.
I looked up articles on how to busk for money, but it turned out to be a lot more complicated than just setting yourself up on a street corner. There were permits and regulations and waiting lists. My tuition would be more than due by the time I even got through the paperwork.
I looked into jobs like cashier or retail sales, but they were all minimum wage. It would take me months and months to save up enough. Plus, all the stores hiring had terrible hours. I'd never be able to make them fit around my class schedule.
My final hopes were local classified listing for cello performers. Maybe an amateur musical theatre group needed a cellist for their orchestra. Unfortunately, most of the listings with cello in the description were for people selling cellos or tickets to concerts with cello performers.
One listing caught my eye. An event planning company was hiring musicians to play at private events evenings and weekends. They paid cash the day of each event. There was no specific request for cello players, but it did say they had open auditions. All they needed was an email with our name and instrument and we'd get put on the audition list.
From the movies I'd seen, fancy parties usually had string quartets, meaning two violins, a viola and a cello. I practically danced in my seat. I knew I could beat any competition out there. This could be the solution to all my troubles.
I checked the audition date and time and my heart sunk. It was the same time as one of my composition classes. I'd have to miss it. I hated missing class—attendance was part of our grade.
Then again, my attendance grade wouldn't matter if I didn't pay tuition on time. Before I could think twice, I sent off an email to the company to reserve my spot. That took care of one of my problems—I hoped.
Unfortunately, I still didn't know what to do about Ren.
Days had passed and I still hadn't contacted him. Was he waiting for me to text? Was he getting impatient? Worried? Maybe he wasn't even thinking about me at all. He had a busy rock star life to lead.
"You still brooding?" Jen poked her head into my room with a disgruntled look on her face. "You should be jumping off the walls with joy, you know. I would be, if I had a rock star boyfriend."
"He's not—" I began to protest, then gave up. I couldn't lie to myself. My interest in Ren wasn't purely platonic. I didn't know if he felt the same way, though. Maybe he really did just want to catch up with an old friend.
"You haven't contacted him, have you?"
"No."
"No as in not yet, or no as in you're never going to?"
"I haven't decided."
"Then let me make the decision for you."
She grabbed my phone out of my hand. I flailed around to snatch it back, but she danced out of the way. Jen quickly tapped out a message and let me grab my phone back.
"I didn't press send."
I let out a small breath of relief and read the message she'd typed out.
Heyyy Ren u want to meet up 2nite?
I grimaced. "God no! What are you thinking? I would never type something like that."
"Then do it yourself."
I grumbled and deleted the characters one by one. "Fine. How's this. 'Hi Ren. This is Ivy. Would you like to get coffee sometime this week? Let me know if you're free.' That sounds fine, right?"
"It's good. Casual. Not clingy." Jen waited for a moment. "You going to hit send or what?"
I bit my lip. "I'm worried. I don't know what he's like anymore. There are all these rumors on the internet about groupies and crazy parties and…other things." Like one night stands .
"There are always rumors about famous guys." Jen sat down on my bed next to me and gave me a hug. "I've been a fan of Feral Silence forever. If any of them is a gentleman, it's Ren. I know celebrities put on acts for the camera and you can't always tell whether it's their real personality or not, but believe me, Ren's probably the least likely out of all those guys to be a jerk."
I hesitated for several long moments. Was I really going to do this?
"It's just one date," Jen insisted. "If you get an asshole playboy rock star vibe, you never have to see him again."
I hit send.
Jen clapped at the whoosh sound. "And now we wait."
"You think it'll take him long to answer?"
"Depends. He's probably got a full schedule. On the other hand, our generation is perpetually glued to our smartphones." Jen took out her own phone as she said it. "Here, I'll look up his schedule and see what he's doing today."
"You can do that?"
"Yeah, their social media team keeps fans up to date on their every move."
"Creepy."
"A little, but also awesome. Here, see?" Jen held out her phone. The screen showed a picture of the band standing on stage playing their instruments, but they were dressed casually. Jayce, Morris and Kell were in jeans and t-shirts. Ren still had on dress pants and a collared shirt, but no tie and jacket. "They're backstage practicing for a live performance on TV right now. They're going to be doing a segment on one of those late night talk shows. He'll probably be too busy to answer for a while."
"I don't like this. It feels like an invasion of privacy."
"Thousands of other girls are also invading his privacy at this very moment." Jen shrugged. "Better get used to it if you want to date a rock star."
Thousands. Ren had thousands of girls to choose from. That sinking feeling returned.
Why would he ever choose me?
My phone pinged.
"Ohmigod," Jen gasped. "Is it him?
My stomach leaped into my throat. I clutched the phone so tight my hand starting shaking. I slowly peeked at the screen.
One new message from an unknown number.
I'd love to get coffee. I've got a few hours free tomorrow afternoon. Does that work? Can't wait to see you again.
"It's him," I said, breathless. "He wants to meet up."
Jen fist pumped the air. "I better be the maid of honor at your wedding."
"Stop it." Even though I was so nervous I thought I might throw up, I couldn't help but laugh. "It's just coffee."
"Right. 'Coffee.'" Jen used air quotes. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" She patted me on the shoulder and rose from the bed. "Just let me know if you're not coming home tomorrow night. I won't want to be up worrying."
"We're not—" I tried to protest again, but gave up as Jen closed my bedroom door behind her. I read the message one more time.
Can't wait to see you again.
We met up at a coffee shop in the west end, close enough that I only needed to take one bus to get there. I assumed Ren just took a taxi or a limousine or whatever it was that rock stars used to get around.
I arrived early and snagged a seat facing the front door so I'd be able to see when he came in. I ordered a coffee, preempting the awkward conversation over whether the guy should pay for the girl not. It was a plain drip coffee, not one of those fancy ones. I refused to pay ten dollars for a coffee-flavored liquid dessert with whipped cream and syrup.
My head whipped up with every jingle of the door, but none of the people who entered were Ren. I checked my phone for the thousandth time. He had one more minute before he was officially late.
The door swung open again. A tall man with a knitted beanie on his head and oversized aviator sunglasses walked in. I looked back down at my coffee, disappointed. A few minutes later I looked back up in surprise when someone approached my table only to find that same man with a coffee in his hand taking a seat. I was about to tell him I was waiting for someone when he took off his glasses.
"Ren?" I stared at his outfit in disbelief. "Why are you wearing that ugly hat?" I immediately regretted my words. What if he really liked that beanie?
Ren laughed but kept the hat on. "I don't want anyone to recognize me." He turned his head so I could see his long hair tucked up underneath.
"Are you hiding from your fans?"
"It's just a precaution. I don't want anyone to interrupt us." He gave me a soft smile and I couldn't help but flush. "Oh." He nodded at my drink, looking discouraged. "I wanted to buy you a coffee."
My insides went mushy. "You can get the next one."
There was a moment of silence as we stared at each other, just gazing into each other's eyes. It was oddly intimate for something happening in such a public place. I struggled to come up with something to say to relieve the tension.
"Do you often go out in public in disguise?"
"Not very often. Then again, I don't really get out much."
"Really? You're not the partying type? I thought you were supposed to be a rock star."
He laughed. "I'm just too busy. Not a lot of free time to get drunk and smash up hotel rooms."
At least I didn't have to worry about that aspect of his life.
"I'm really glad you messaged me." He was so earnest, so sincere.
"Of course I did. I wanted to see you again." I didn't tell him I'd debated the issue for days.
"And I'm really glad you entered that contest."
"My friends told me about it the day after the concert."
"That's the first I'd heard of it, too. Ailey sprung the idea on us without warning."
"Did you really watch all those videos?"
"Most of them. We had staff filter out the bad ones first. You know, to make sure they weren't from any crazy fans."
"You get a lot of crazy fans?"
"You don't even know."
That brought me back to one of the questions I had.
"Why a rock band?"
Ren tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're so good at classical music. Why would you throw it all away to thrash around on stage?"
Ren gave me an indulgent smile. "Still a bit snobbish when it comes to music, huh?"
I couldn't defend myself. It was true. "Why a bass guitar, of all things?"
"It's the only instrument that wasn't taken."
"Taken?"
"Kell and Jayce already play guitar and Morris is on drums. When Kell was putting the band together, the only thing they didn't have was a bass player."
I waited for more of an explanation, but none came. "That's it?"
"Should I have had a better reason?"
Even though we were finally together, I still felt like we weren't talking about anything important. I wanted to know so many things. How long should I wait?
"How long have you known Kell and the rest?"
He was silent for a moment before answering quietly. "About five years."
He must have met them soon after he disappeared. I had to ask.
"Why, Ren?"
He didn't even pretend to not know what I meant.
"I had to."
"But why ? Why did you leave without saying anything? Why didn't you tell anyone?" Why didn't you tell me?
"It's complicated."
"We had no idea what happened to you. Didn't you think about how much it would hurt your parents? Hurt your friends?"
His dark eyes were oddly calm, considering the question. "No."
My chest clenched with anger and hurt. "I didn't think you were so cold."
"There's only one person I regret leaving."
He stared at me so steadily, so intently. My stomach fluttered, a blush riding to my cheeks. Maybe I should have made a move on him all those years ago.
"So, tell me what you've been doing these last few years."
I wanted to continue grilling him, but his sudden change in subject told me he wasn't going to say anything more. I went along with it.
"Well, like I said, I'm attending Opus Academy. I live with two of my friends, Natalie and Jen. Um." I tried to think of what else to say, but my life was pretty routine: get up, practice, go to class, practice, come home and do schoolwork, then practice before bed. "I practice my cello a lot."
He nodded, face expectant. I didn't know what else to tell him.
"I'm looking for a part-time job at the moment."
"Find anything interesting?"
"I've got some leads." Only the one, that event planning company, but I figured I was a shoe-in. "It's for a company that plans events. You know those people who play in the background at fancy parties? That could be me."
Ren's face lit up. "That sounds pretty cool."
"Yeah, it would be. I really want it. I was also thinking about tutoring music, but kids these days all have delusions of grandeur. They all want to play guitar so they can become some famous rock stars or whatever."
His lips twitched. "Delusions of grandeur?"
"Just because you made it, doesn't mean everyone can."
"Have I made it?" His voice turned thoughtful.
"Are you kidding?" I was torn between disbelief and suspicion. Was this false modesty? "Ren, you have to disguise yourself to hide from fans."
He shrugged. "All bands have a group of hardcore fans. It doesn't always mean you've made it big." He looked up and flashed me a brief smile. "You'd never heard of Feral Silence, right?"
"I'm not exactly into the hard rock music scene."
"I just wonder sometimes," he mused. "Whether this is real or not, when it's all going to disappear. All my fans, all that attention. I sometimes feel like…" he trailed off and looked down at his coffee. His last words were spoken in a hushed murmur. "I feel like I don't deserve it."
I didn't know if he meant for me to hear. How could someone as famous and talented as Ren doubt himself? My heart ached for him. I took his hands in mine.
"You shouldn't feel that way. You're Ren Sada of Feral Silence . You're amazing. Everyone can see it."
He squeezed my hands, thumb rubbing back and forth over my knuckles. It sent a wave of heat pulsing through me. I suppressed a whimper. How could the simplest touch make my knees go weak?
"Thanks, Ivy." He looked up to meet my eyes. "I know how hard it is for you to compliment someone who just thrashes around on stage." He gave me a sly grin as I sputtered, trying to come up with a response. "It's fine. I know your tastes are much too refined for the kind of music I play." He waved his hand dismissively. "I mean, it's not like it takes talent to play a bass guitar. It's the easiest instrument to learn, right?" He kept on going, talking over my protests and grinning.
"Stop," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I'm sorry I even said anything."
He let out an amused laugh. "It's fine. I like a girl with refined tastes."
I kept my face in my hands, hiding my blush. A small thrill ran through me at those words. He liked me. The question was, how much?
"You've got a reason to be so discerning, though," Ren continued.
"What? Why?"
"I've seen you play."
"Play? You mean play my cello?" I frowned in confusion. "When?"
"I'm not the only one with videos on the internet."
"What—"
"Your school's website has videos of students performing to show off the best of the best. They have quite a few of you up there."
"Really? I knew they recorded some of our final exams, but…" I murmured into my cup.
"You're good. You're really good."
I looked up. Ren's eyes were shining with something almost like pride. "You think so?"
"Ivy, anyone who knows anything about music can tell how good you are."
I'd always had confidence in my abilities. I'd heard it from my professors and fellow students that I was good, but it felt different coming from Ren. It felt more real, like I had the opinion of somebody who really mattered.
"So I guess I can give you a little slack for looking down on lowly rock bands."
I groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?"
"Nope." Ren grinned.
I heard a loud gasp and a high-pitched squeal from a few yards away.
"Oh my god, it's Ren Sada! That's Ren, isn't it?"
"What? No way! Wait, holy shit, you're right."
"Ren!"
A group of girls rushed our table, stars in their eyes.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I've loved Feral Silence forever and I've been to all your concerts and I bought your albums on vinyl and would you mind if I took a picture with you?" A cute young girl with a short blond bob spoke the words in one breath, holding out her phone. The girls pushed and shoved each other, fighting to get as close to him as possible. They ignored me, as if I was a piece of furniture.
Ren gave me an apologetic smile, mouthing sorry, and stood up to greet them. "Of course I'll take pictures. Thank you so much for your support. It means a lot to us."
That standard response the guys probably gave to all their fans.
"I love Feral Silence, too. You're my favorite member!" another girl piped up.
"I'm learning how to play bass guitar just like you!"
"I saw your last concert, you were so awesome!"
I could practically hear the exclamation marks at the end of every sentence.
Ren chatted with the girls, taking pictures and signing autographs. I thought it would be over after a minute or two, but they kept on asking questions and he continued to speak with them. His coffee was probably getting cold.
I examined the girls. They were all very pretty. The girl with the bob had gorgeous blue eyes and full pouty lips. Another girl was tall and skinny with rich brown skin, smooth and flawless. Another had bright red hair clearly from a bottle, but it looked great with her green eyes and pale skin. Every one of them was dressed head to toe in color-coordinated outfits—tight jeans, knee high boots and fashionable tops.
I thought about my own boring hair, dirty blond and straggly. My eyes were ostensibly blue, but they more often than not looked dingy grey. I'd worn a plain blue dress with tights. Nothing special.
I hated feeling this way. I was never the cool kid or the fashion-forward kid and I didn't have boys banging on my door, but none of that had ever bothered me before. I knew what I was good at. I knew my place. I wouldn't pretend I was someone I wasn't. If my self-esteem wasn't the highest, at least I never felt bad for being who I was.
But seeing Ren surrounded by all those beautiful girls made me sick inside. I kept on forgetting who he was.
Ren was a rock star, famous and talented and sexy with hordes of girls throwing themselves at him. He was amazing.
I was just some mousy little music geek struggling to pay her bills.
It might have been different if he'd never left. We could have gotten to know each other more, could have dated like normal teenagers. Maybe it would have turned into something serious. That was impossible now.
I stood up, waiting to see if Ren would notice. He didn't. I grabbed my purse and my jacket and left the coffee shop. I wondered if the jingling noise of the door opening would get his attention, so I turned back one last time. He was still engrossed in his conversion, laughing and smiling and touching the girls' arms and clasping their hands.
I shouldn't have forgotten what he was.
Ren was someone important.
I wasn't.