Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Duncan
A thousand things run through my mind once the producers cut from the air. There’s a hundred things I want to say to Felix, but before I can, a group of folks hurry him off stage, leaving me alone with Joe.
“Hey man, I wasn’t trying to be a dick or anything. I really am sorry for your loss,” he says, and I can tell it is genuine.
“Thanks,” I utter as I trudge off stage, toward the dressing room, feeling hot as hell from the lights and the conversation of choice.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this would happen.
You don’t get to be out of the limelight for thirty years and pop back into public and expect no one to ask you about what you’ve been up to; and maybe on some level I thought it was fine, that I could handle it. Hell, I’ve had nightmares about this very moment.
Because I knew ten years ago, one day I would find my way back to the music. I just didn’t know it was going to be performing alongside a sex symbol half my age who has authority issues.
When the moment actually came for me to take control of the narrative and tell the truth, tell my story, spin it into something positive...
I froze.
Thank God Felix jumped in.
Though I have to say, his defense, his attitude, even the small touch of his fingertips along my back was unexpected, but it felt good.
For the briefest few minutes, I didn’t feel alone .
I felt like for the first time in years, someone got it. Got me.
I’m barely in the room for five minutes before Lou comes in, shaking his head.
“I’m so sorry, McKay. I didn’t?—”
“It’s fine,” I lie, sinking into the couch, sighing in relief as I close my eyes.
“No, it’s not fine. I specifically told my guy not to bring up Marci, to stick to the fucking script and?—”
“It’s my life, and I knew by jumping back into all of this—” I wave my hand around the room, “that this was inevitable. When you’re in the public eye, everything is public. Whether you want it to be or not.”
Lou scrunches his eyebrows together.
“My life post Hollow Pointe is fine, really. Just leave Bobby out of it. That’s all I ask. He’s just a kid, and the last thing I want is for him to be subjected to all this Hollywood bullshit.”
Lou’s expression shifts as he takes a seat next to me. “You know I’d never?—”
“I know,” I state as a strange weight leaves me.
Lou grips my shoulder, squeezing tight. “The public’s always been interested in your marriage. I thought... I thought maybe with her death behind you... you know, with it happening a good while ago, they would have forgotten about it. Hell, I thought they’d zero in on Felix and his bullshit, to tell you the truth. Kid is a magnet for attention. I guess I was wrong.”
I shrug as I lean my head back in the cushions. “I mean, I married a fan. It’s like, the literal Cinderella story of rock. Not to mention, I’m the only member of the band who walked away from all that shit, and I know it looks strange. Especially, given with how much Issax has remained in the spotlight. Why wouldn’t they want all the details, you know?”
Lou’s voice is soft, gentler as he speaks. “What do you think Marci would say about all of this?”
I sigh. “I’m sure she’d be excited because she knows how much I missed playing shows. Big ones, like this Pillars of Rock tour.”
Lou nods. “And Felix? What do you think she’d make of him?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, shit. She’d probably love him. His pain in the ass attitude, his tattoos. Even the pink shirts. She’d probably have begged me to audition before you did.”
Lou laughs. “I didn’t beg you.”
I shake my head. “No, but you clearly needed my help, and I’m not talking about the music.”
Lou leans back into the cushions. The television across from us shows that Felix is on stage. I guess the show is back on the air.
“Yeah, well, you’re the best brat tamer I know,” Lou says with the ghost of a smile.
I know what he means, or rather who he means.
Isaax.
Though we’ve never really talked about those last two years, when Issax went off the rails. Before the band officially broke up.
Isaax was always insufferable, but two years into our four year run, the drugs, the alcohol, and the ever-present roller coaster of rockstar life had done a number on Issax.
I wasn’t an idiot, I knew just like everyone else did that he was headed for the gutter, but like everyone else in Issax’s circle, I looked the other way.
So did Lou.
But my reasons for looking the other way weren’t because Hollow Pointe was raking in the money.
My reasons were much more personal.
I knew the moment Issax sobered up he’d forget about me, and Marci.
Forget about those hot, summer nights when the world was at our fingertips and we were fucking immortal.
And Marci loved it. She loved him.
And maybe I did, too, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Why ruin a good thing, right?
But every day I faced that truth, when I picked him up off floors covered in vomit, or pulled him from mattresses loitered with strung out, clammy bodies.
My memories slide back into those days like it was just yesterday.
Remembering the night we’d recorded Loose Canon . I’d performed on the track because Issax was passed out in the dressing room. That was the night Issax tried to commit suicide.
I blink furiously, trying to bury the painful memory.
Featuring me on the track was his idea. He said he didn’t feel good, and he looked like shit. But then again, Issax always looked like shit. He was always irritable, pissy, and going off at the drop of a hat. No one wanted to argue with him.
Except me.
I wanted to run after him, but Marci and Lou told me to let it go. To record the vocals, let Issax work off whatever he needed to, however he needed to. Maybe if he got his fix, he’d relax.
I watch as Felix grips his microphone stand, recognizing the deep bass and the chime-like sound of cymbals.
The beginning lyrics of Black Sea in Felix’s live voice are deeper, richer like velvet.
Come on in, the water’s fine
Dark and tempting, it feels divine
I promise it’s fine, baby, come swim with me
Don’t leave me alone in the Black Sea.
His movements are short, sensual and his voice echoes with a depth, a pain that resonates on a deeper level.
I’d recorded my vocals, but something in my bones that night told me I needed to check on my bandmate.
So I did.
The doctors said if I hadn’t, he would have died.
I fight back the tears from the memories as I watch Felix’s fingers grip his microphone, his hair falling in his bright blue eyes.
He’s not Issax, Duncan.
In my brain, I know history isn’t repeating itself. After all, Isaax is still alive and well, and still sends me a fucking Christmas card every year.
Most would think it’s awkward that we don’t talk much anymore, but after that night, after Loose Canon , everything changed.
I changed.
I saw the path my friend was on, the path I’d helped pave, and I knew I didn’t want that life.
Not for him, not for me.
And certainly not for Marci.
As if he can sense my turmoil, Lou sets his hand on my shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says softly.
My throat constricts and I find it hard to breathe as I focus my gaze on Felix.
On his bright eyes, his glittering lip ring.
But it’s not his looks that soothe my soul.
It’s his voice.
Felix Heart is a complex man. His words from moments ago echo in my brain, about music, about pain.
He closes his eyes as he sings, as he digs deep into his soul, channeling the pain that he buries and laying his heart bare for the audience.
Felix is no stranger to loss, to pain.
As he sings about wanting to be a shark, but being weak, I think about all the times I cried, all the arguments I shouldered alone.
Trying to save Issax from himself.
About all the friends I’ve lost to the venom of stardom.
Felix sings his haunting melodies, his raspy voice a plea for understanding, for acceptance.
That’s when I realize that beneath the attitude, the alcohol, and the hotness, he’s no different than me.
Trying to make sense of the world around him the only way he knows how.
Through his music.
I start to wonder, what happened to him, what or who hurt him.
Because the way he sings about drowning in the Black Sea, the haunting lyrics, and the way his entire body clutches to the microphone, the way he closes his eyes as he sings...
I have a feeling that Felix Heart has been fighting demons no one knows about, for a while.
And the drinking, the outbursts... he’s just trying to quiet them, to fill the void that’s been left in his heart, his soul.
I know, because I did the same thing. When Hollow Pointe broke up.
When Issax wouldn’t return my calls.
When Marci died.
You’re not alone, Felix.
“Yeah, well, I guess if you can handle Issax Perregrine, you can handle just about anyone.” I say the words half-heartedly, and though my words are sarcastic, the tension in the air is thick.
Lou looks at me with silent understanding, and I know the walk down memory lane is over.
I shift my gaze back to Felix and his charged performance.
How could someone be so many different things?
An idiot, a pain in the ass, a musician, and dare I say... friend?
My thoughts wander to the way he’d stepped in when Joe asked me such personal questions.
The way his gaze lit on fire, the way his fingertips stroked my back gently, as if he was trying to literally soothe my nerves.
The way he’d defended me, on air of all things.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone jumped in to protect me, or my peace like that.
Not since my wife had been alive.
She was always tough, looking out for me and her friends. I was always content not to rock the boat, because I hated conflict, but Marci never let things go, especially if someone was being an asshole, and I get the feeling that Felix is like that, too.
He might be an asshole to most, but underneath all the bratty attitude and tattoos, he could be quite commanding.
And damn, if that isn’t fucking hot.
My cheeks flush and I immediately jump up off the couch, not wanting Lou to see my sudden rush of blood. Instead, I walk closer to the TV, watching Felix belt out his heart. He opens his eyes, looking right at the camera, right at me.
I’m sure he doesn’t know I’m watching him, though. He can’t.
He’s just channeling Felix Heart, the showstopper.
The rockstar.
But for a moment, I wish it wasn’t just for show.
For a moment, I wish he’d look at me like that.
Lou gets up from his own spot on the couch, just as Felix takes his bow.
“All right then, looks like it’s time for all of us to head the fuck out,” he mutters, typing out a text faster than someone our age should be capable of.
“Your transport is out front. See you tomorrow morning,” he grumbles as he heads out the door.
Tonight was a damn disaster.
As I decide to not wallow in regurgitated bullshit, Felix comes traipsing in, looking like he’s just won the fucking lottery, but he stops the moment he sees me.
There is practically a canyon between us and I don’t miss how his gaze flashes from my own, down to my groin, then back again.
He shifts his stance, giving me an ample exit, and I don’t hesitate to take it.
Tonight’s been too much of a curveball for me, not to mention I am tired as hell, and I know I need to get home, if only to make sure Bobby is actually sleeping and not waiting up for me.
Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around?
Shouldn’t I be up in bed waiting for my sixteen year old to stumble through the door on a school night?
“You, uh... you were great out there,” I say awkwardly, trying to clear the tension out of the air. My words are double edged like a sword, and I don’t mean them to sound as harsh as they do.
Felix’s lips twist just the slightest as he slides his hands in his pockets, taking a step forward. He nods for me to step closer, and I hate that instinctively, I do.
I take one step at a time until I am only inches away from him. Again.
How he is able to reel me in like a fish is beyond me, but I don’t have the energy to fight tonight.
I’m tired, in more ways than one.
“You know, you weren’t so bad yourself. All things considered.”
A smile forms on my own face as I nod in response. “Thank you. For having my back out there.” I say the words definitively. Truthfully, I am grateful that tonight Felix wasn’t a total mess.
In fact, he was actually kind of a badass.
But I’ll be damned if I admit that out loud, especially to him. He’d probably be the type to get a big head about it, parade his accomplishments around and press me for praise every chance he got, never letting me forget.
Why does the thought of praising Felix send a shiver through me?
Especially when it is so goddamn warm in here?
His expression softens as he smirks.
“That’s my best kept secret, Duncan. I’m not actually an asshole, you know. I just play one. For the cameras.”
His voice softens and sounds different.
Real.
And all at once, I understand Felix is letting his guard down.
He’s letting me in.
And the magnitude of that is not lost on me.
“For the record, I never thought you were an asshole. Just a spoiled little brat,” I state, my voice much deeper than I mean it to be. I mean the words to sound humorous, if only to alleviate the weird tension that has found its way back between us.
Felix chortles as he shakes his head. “Tell anyone my secret, and I’ll be a lot more than a spoiled brat where you are concerned. I’ll be a fucking terror. ”
I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face. His tone isn’t malicious. Far from it.
It is playful, but also sincere, and I understand his sarcastically veiled threat.
“Noted.” I nod as I take a step toward the door. “See you tomorrow, Felix.”
With that, I am off, like Cinderella catching her carriage before it turns into a damn pumpkin, shedding my velvet blazer and musician visage as I enter the town car.
As I watch the city and its lights pass me by, I can’t help but roll the lyrics of Black Sea around in my brain.
This is only the beginning, and I know that.