Chapter 7
SEVEN
______
JOHNNY
Everything is good. The sound check is done. Gavin and Oz are primed and ready to rock. Ned looks horny enough to fuck the whole world and still have jizz to spare—which is his version of pre-performance jitters. All in all, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be for this afternoon’s performance.
If my gaze searches every crowd for a glimpse of ginger, it’s not a problem. Calum was just some guy I met. He was a few hours of my life. My first kiss. Well, my first dude kiss anyway. I could easily kiss dozens of men before I’m done.
Sooner or later, I’m going to be swayed by the lush curves of a woman, anyway.
The plump, roundness of breasts. The breathy sound of a feminine moan.
That’s what I’m used to, and it’s what my parents expect.
They loved Ellie like a daughter and were devastated by our divorce.
To turn around now, at the age of twenty-six, and announce I’m bisexual?
That would be pushing it. No, ultimately my future lies in the embrace of a woman.
Men are nothing more than a blip on my radar.
It doesn’t matter if my fingers twitch at the thought of Calum’s hard, unyielding muscles. Or if the memory of his groan, all low and rumbly in his chest, sets off sparks in my whole body. If I can’t explore my attraction to men with him, I can do it with somebody else.
The fact it took me most of a year to find him means nothing. The dam is broken now. I’m sure to meet plenty of men I’m attracted to. Losing Calum as an option is not a problem.
The table I’m sitting at shifts as Ned takes a seat opposite me. “How did your mischief making go last night?”
Attempting a casual shrug, I keep my gaze on the scarred and dirty table.
“Not as well as I hoped.” I’m not keen on giving away the mess I’ve got going on inside me—I’m supposed to be having fun here—but who else can I talk to about this if not my oldest friend?
The plastic water bottle I’m holding threatens to crumple as I turn it back and forth, repeatedly screwing and unscrewing the cap.
Clearing my throat, I finally blurt out, “Honestly, I thought casual sex would be easier.”
Ned returns my shrug with one of his own. “It can be, but it doesn’t suit everyone. Why push it if it doesn’t feel right to you?”
“Because this is my one chance to—” I stop talking.
Ned has no idea I’m attracted to guys. No one in my life does.
Ellie was the only person who ever knew, and she wasn’t about to tell anyone.
We didn’t set out to keep it a secret. Neither of us had a problem with me being bisexual.
We just didn’t tell anyone. It was nobody else’s business.
I never thought of myself as being ‘in the closet’. I sure as hell never thought I would need to ‘come out’ to anyone. But I suppose I am now… and I do.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I sigh. This is fucking up my brain way more than I expected. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about what’s going on with you and Toni.”
Colour springs to Ned’s cheeks as he stares at me with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he says, as if I can’t call bullshit on his new relationship.
“Last I heard, you were after a weekend fling. Then Toni shows up, introduces himself as your boyfriend, and the two of you spend the whole weekend acting like two peas in a little love pod. Are you guys serious or what?”
Ned’s lips press together as he considers my words. “We’re not serious at the moment,” he says, carefully. “Although, I think maybe we could be.”
Wow. That was fast. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in another relationship. Even the idea of being in love with someone who isn’t Ellie is surreal to me. And trusting someone again, after the way she broke my heart? I have no clue what that would even look like.
I’m happy for Ned, though. He’s a good man. He deserves this. “I hope it works out for you,” I say, forcing some sort of smile.
The lump at the back of my throat aches.
I swallow, and it hurts. I wonder if Calum’s ever been in love.
If he’s ever had his heart broken into little pieces and fought his way whole.
Damn, there he is, filling my head again.
I knew from the get-go this would be a weekend I’d remember for the rest of my life, but I had no idea meeting a man would play such a big role.
Attempting to move on, I hold my arms out to gesture to the still sleepy festival grounds. “If nothing else, at least we get to play in front of a big arse crowd today. That’s worth celebrating all on its own.”
The grin spreading over Ned’s face is a relief. I know it was hard for him to come here, although the why behind his reluctance is still a mystery. Something about an ex-boyfriend he’s keen to avoid. I appreciate that he came anyway. I appreciate that he did it for me.
“Yeah, Johnny.” He nods, a glimmer of genuine excitement in his eyes. “It is worth celebrating.”
* * *
My left hand tightens around the neck of my electric guitar as I walk across the stage.
The autumn sun shines overhead. The crowd cheers our arrival with raucous enthusiasm.
I want to focus on them, on my band mates, on the awesomeness of this experience.
Instead, all I can think about is him. Calum.
There’s no way he’s here. He told me himself, he’s going to be run off his feet all day, working behind the scenes at the amphitheatre.
He can’t just take time out to watch the performance of some pub band who he already knows has no interest in his services—especially when he’s probably still mad at me.
None of that seems to matter to the jittery, nervous, horny mess the last twenty or so hours have made of me. I want him to be out there somewhere. In the crowd. Watching.
His imagined gaze weighs heavy on my skin as I play the opening chords of our first song. It follows the furious movements of my fingers as we progress from one song to the next. My guitar sings and sobs for him. My hands fist and flex in the moments between, eager to continue the show.
I have no doubt the lion’s share of the audience has eyes only for Ned.
The succubus that possesses him prior to every performance is a greedy thing who loves to suck all available attention in his direction.
He feeds off the energy of the crowd, multiplies it, sensualises it, and then feeds it back to them.
That larger-than-life stage presence is one of the reasons I was so desperate to have him join Fifth Circle when he returned from Sydney.
It’s hot as hell and every audience laps it up.
But not Calum.
In my head, Calum is mine.
All too soon, the final notes ring out, and our set comes to an end.
My guitar falls silent, and I take a moment to drink it all in.
The cloudless blue sky. The crowd’s thunder of applause.
My band mates at my side, sharing in the glory.
My chest swells with a bone deep satisfaction.
This is what I’ve been working towards my entire life.
Every time my parents insisted I give up the guitar and I refused.
Every time Ellie and I argued about how big a role my music played in our lives.
This is the feeling I fought for. It was worth every second.
Again, I imagine Calum’s eyes on me, but I don’t picture him joining in on the applause.
Instead, he glares at me, with his arms crossed and silent curses spilling from his lips.
The image shouldn’t stretch my grin wider, but it does.
Because even if I never get to see him again, I find delight in the idea of him knowing how good we are.
It’s crazy and it’s mean, but I want him to know we’re the band he’s been searching for all along. I want him to want me in every way want can be imagined.
Before long, another act has taken our place, and we’re emerging from the backstage area into the main festival grounds. Toni appears from the crowd, heading our way at a full run.
“You were brilliant,” he cries, throwing himself at Ned and planting kisses all over his face. Ned laughs as he wraps his arms around the smaller man.
Oz lets out a loud laugh. “Hold up. Do we all get sugar? This was a team effort, you know.”
Ned tugs his boyfriend closer. “No way. This one is all mine.”
Gavin’s wife, Charmaine, reaches us then and tucks herself under Gavin’s arm.
“Don’t worry, boys, you were all brilliant.
” She smiles up at her husband. “Of course, no one outshines the hot drummer.” With a wide grin, Gavin lowers his head to press a soft kiss to his wife’s lips.
When they part, the love between them is as clear and bright as the day.
My jaw tightens, and I drop my gaze to the grass beneath my moving feet. There’s no point in allowing myself to search the crowd. There’s no one here for me.
Oz gives a long drawn-out groan. “Next year, Johnny and I are bringing dates of our own.” He throws me a wink. “Right, mate?”
A rush of sparks ignite at the idea of coming back next year.
Being on stage today, playing our arses off and loving every second of it, was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
The connection between the four of us was stronger than ever.
Our performance was freedom and joy and intensity all rolled into one, and we nailed it. Why shouldn’t we come back?
My chest expands as I allow the possibility room to breathe.
Autumn Skies is held one weekend a year.
It’s two days out of hundreds. Surely, it’s not too much to ask.
Surely, we can have that. Excitement streaks through every cell as I lift my gaze back to the rest of the band.
Oz and Gavin smile back at me, their expressions open and bright with enthusiasm.
Ned’s eyes are also wide. His face is flushed, his body tense. He looks on the verge of panic.
It’s the same expression he wore two years ago; the day I asked him to join Fifth Circle as our permanent front man.
He agreed—on one condition. Ned told me flat out he couldn’t reach higher than where we were right then.
Small pubs, small audiences. A small band living a small life. That was all he could offer.
I didn’t understand it. Such a pact went against every dream Ned ever had as a teenager.
But, when Gavin and Oz shrugged and left the decision up to me, I agreed.
Not only because I was so desperate to ditch the raging dickhead we had behind the mic at the time, but also because I knew it would be an easy promise to keep.
I had responsibilities. A wife at home. A career my parents could be reasonably proud of. There was no room in my schedule to play at being a rock star. Taking the musical world by storm simply wasn’t part of the plan. Not for me. Of course, divorce hadn’t been part of the plan, either.
My circumstances may have changed, but Ned’s haven’t. Whatever demons he brought with him when he came home from Sydney, they are alive and well. As of this moment right here, they’re eating my friend alive.
“For now, let’s enjoy this for the awesome experience it was,” I say to the band as a whole. “Let the future take care of itself.”
There’s a brief silence before Gavin nods in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. It was awesome.” He steers us towards his van, where we’ll be storing the gear we brought with us. “How many people do you reckon were in the crowd?”
Oz and Gavin launch into a debate over the answer, with Charmaine adding her estimate somewhere in the middle. The woman is wicked smart and probably closer to the truth than either of the guys.
On their far side, a silent Ned gives me a nod of thanks. I respond in kind, despite the twisting in my gut and the tightness in my chest.
I’ve always had this need inside, for one more song, one more gig, one more perfectly strummed chord.
It’s like an itch, invigorating and incessant, but impossible to scratch without hurting someone I love.
It prevented me from being the son my parent’s hoped for.
It ruined my marriage. I’m not about to let it destroy my band, too.
It doesn’t matter if I’m chafing under the limitations Ned placed upon us. I made a promise to my friend, to be content with the status quo, to not reach for more than he can handle. It’s a promise I intend to keep.