Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
______
JOHNNY
Wednesday night. Six o’clock. The Jam Shed.
It’s been a standing rehearsal for Fifth Circle since the beginning.
In fact, Oz and I helped Gavin build this place in the back of his and Charmaine’s small property soon after the band’s formation.
Gavin chose the apt, if unoriginal, name during a laughter and alcohol-fuelled celebration the day we hammered the last nail into place.
Each member of the band has a key and an open invitation to use the space at any time.
The building is small and simple. It’s little more than four walls, really. But it also has enough insulation to muffle a stampede of rhinos, so we can play at all hours of the day and night without getting noise complaints from the semi-distant neighbours.
My parents would be horrified to hear me say this, but this place is as close as I will ever come to having a church. I can come here and allow all the expectations of the world to fall away. I can surrender to the movement of my fingers and the rhythms of my heart.
I slept here more than once after Ellie and I argued—about how much time I spent here. The irony may have amused me if I hadn’t felt torn in two. This place was my solace when I went through my divorce. It was my happy place once the pain gave way to healing.
After the events of the past week, I’m left with the realisation it’s never been about the building. The power of this place lies with the men who come here every week to fill it with music.
Gavin, Oz and I have shown up by default. None of us mention what happened after the gig last Friday night. Those conversations have already been had. There’s no point in rehashing.
My guitar waits beside me on the couch as I sit, stiff and restless, on the edge of the cushions.
On the far side of the room, Gavin is hunched behind his drum kit, glaring at a random spot on the floor.
Oz plucks absently at the strings of his bass, murmuring the odd reassurance that Ned could be running late. He could still show up.
Ned is never late for rehearsal.
I can’t stop thinking about what Calum said, about how wounds don’t always heal just because the clock keeps ticking.
I keep remembering the way Ned behaved when he first came back from Sydney.
Small and sad… and quiet. Even when he’d sit in on sessions here at the shed, or when we were in the car with the volume cranked…
the quiet in him seemed like it would go on forever.
I did ask him what happened, but when he refused to talk about it, I didn’t push.
I told myself it was his business, and I shouldn’t pry.
The truth is, I was so busy trying to keep Ellie happy, make my parents proud, and still have time for the band, I hadn’t really taken the time to be there for him when he needed me.
Ned was never going to share that kind of pain with someone who was only half listening.
Then my life fell apart, and Ned showed up like a boss. He came over with beer and pizza on a Friday night. He called and texted to check-in. He listened to me rant about Ellie for months on end. He said yes to performing at Autumn Skies, knowing Zac would be there.
The true enormity of what it must have cost him has finally sunk in. Ned has been the best friend I’ve ever had. I’ve repaid him with frustration and whining.
Man, I fucked this up. The same way I fucked up my marriage. Obviously, I haven’t learned the lesson losing Ellie should have taught me. I’m the same selfish arsehole I’ve always been. Never content. Always reaching for more than was meant for me and letting down the people I love.
Now, I may have lost the one thing I really need. Not fame. Not money. Not the elusive more. I just need my band. To create and play and perform with the three men who are the only brothers I’ll ever have.
I have to be content with that. Like I was before.
My life was never meant to be lived so loud.
The thunk of the door closing resounds through the room. “Hey, guys.”
My head snaps up. Ned’s hand is still on the knob as he stands there, his gaze darting between the three of us as he waits for our reaction to his arrival.
With a sigh of relief, Oz crosses the room to shake Ned’s hand. “Good to see you. We weren’t sure you’d be here.”
A small grin twists Ned’s features. “Neither was I for a while.”
Gavin greets him next and why the hell aren’t I moving? I should already be there begging for forgiveness or offering condolences on his trauma or some shit. Forcing myself to rise, I make my way over to him, hoping he’ll forgive me for being the shittiest friend in the whole fucking universe.
Before I have a chance to open my mouth, Ned lifts a hand to stop me. “Look, I’m sorry for being an arsehole the other night. I shouldn’t have taken off like that.”
I shouldn’t have ambushed him with my excitement for a level of exposure Ned has always made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want. “I don’t care about—”
“Hang on. Let me finish, okay?”
Apparently, he’s not going to let me apologise until he’s said his piece, so I nod. “Go ahead.”
Ned takes a deep breath before he speaks. “I’ll admit it’s taken me a long time to face up to what happened in Sydney with Zac. I’m not going into the details, obviously, but it was bad for me. He was bad for me.”
Guilt bites into me, but I refuse to allow my gaze to fall. I need to face up to what I’ve been putting Ned through with my demands.
“Since I came back, I’ve been hiding from everything I wanted, from life and from music.
It’s time I stopped hiding. I’ve dreamed of being a musician from the time I picked up my first guitar, and now I am.
We are. I want to own that title again, I want to run with it, without being scared of falling down.
And I want Fifth Circle to go as far and as high as we can. Together.”
My heart stalls inside my chest, before sparking back to life with a painful jolt. The energy of the room, so gloomy and regretful moments ago, now vibrates with possibility. Ned’s words have changed everything.
Go as high and as far as we can? I want it, too. I want it so bad I can feel my soul expanding, willingly cutting itself on the constraints imposed by my real life.
“What do you say, Johnny?” Ned turns to me, away from the enthusiastic smiles of Gavin and Oz. “Forgive me?”
I look at him, really look, and for the first time in years I can see the fire in his eyes. The one that burned in him when we were young, before adulthood tried to destroy the dreams we were told we could never fulfill.
“You goddamned arsehole. What the fuck do you need to be forgiven for?” The words burst out of me as I gesture at him wildly. His shocked ‘huh?’ only makes me feel worse.
“I’m the one who should be sorry.” I smack a hand against my chest. “You were there for me when Ellie left and I was a freaking wreck. You were all there for me. I don’t know what I would have done without you lot.
” Emotions clog up my throat and threaten to escape through my eyes.
Damn it, I need to stop being such a melodramatic prick.
I turn back to Ned. “You were a true friend to me, and I should have been the same to you. I never should have pushed aside whatever you went through. It was selfish, and I’m sorry. ”
Ned shakes his head, smiling as if I haven’t been yelling at him like a madman. “Don’t be. If you hadn’t pushed me, I never would have gotten past all the bullshit, and we’d never have the chance to move forwards.”
I’m not sure what that will look like yet…
moving forwards… going far and high. But I know I’ll be there beside him for all of it.
Fuck fame and fortune and festivals. As long as I have these men, and the music we create together, I don’t need anything else.
Closing the last of the distance between us, I put a hand on Ned’s shoulder.
“We’re in this together, right? We take care of each other.
We have each other’s backs from now on. No matter what. ”
Ned’s grin widens. “Yeah, we do.”
I launch myself at him and he grabs me in a fierce hug. “Welcome back, mate.” I smack a kiss on his cheek. The kind we usually exchange before a performance, when we’re hyped to the max.
He laughs out loud, giving me an enthusiastic back thumping. “It’s good to be here.”
When we part, my heart is lighter than it’s been in months, and my phone is halfway out of my back pocket before I realise my fingers are fixing to call Calum.
It’s an urge I’ve managed to resist since he left my place on Saturday morning.
My conscience wouldn’t allow me to discuss the band’s business with him anymore than I already had, and what other excuse would I have offered for calling?
That I miss talking to him? That I crave his touch?
That the need inside me has grown stronger after the taste he gave me?
I’m in over my head, drowning, and for all I know he’s only waist deep in this.
So, yeah, I’ve preferred to hang on to what’s left of my dignity, thank you very much.
But this… this is the perfect excuse to reach out.
Ned is back. There’s a chance everything could work out, and he could get his promotion.
Except, I don’t know exactly what Ned’s vision for the future includes and I don’t want to risk turning this tide by asking.
Despite the threat to Calum’s job, those questions will have to wait. Ned is my priority here.
I slide my phone back into my pocket as Ned opens the bag he came in with. “I’ve got a ton of new material to show you.” He pulls out a spiral book and a thick pile of papers covered in his messy scrawl.
Joy streaks through me at the sight. “Someone’s been busy.”
We all settle in to start sifting through what has to be some of the most creatively carefree writing Ned has produced in years.
Seriously, the man has always been an outstanding lyricist, and together we’ve written songs that brought me to the edge of a freaking braingasm, but suddenly he’s reaching for a whole new level. I can’t wait to join him there.
I’m lost in re-reading one of Ned’s longer pieces, rearranging some of the lines in my head while the fingers of one hand toy with non-existent strings, when there’s another knock on the studio door.
We all look up, but it’s Ned who rises from his chair to answer it.
The rest of us stare in confusion as he greets whoever is on the other side with a total lack of surprise.
He backs up, and Calum enters the room. I flinch, taking in the neat ginger hair, the suit, the wide smile. Bright green eyes wander over Gavin and Oz before crash landing on me. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
I shoot upright from the couch, my heart pounding. How did he find us? Is Ned going to be pissed? “What are you doing here?”
Ned waves a hand in the air. “I asked him to come.”
Calum nods in agreement. “Ned tells me you may be in the market for a manager, after all.”
What the fuck? I stand there blinking as Gavin and Oz cross the room to greet our guest. Here I’d been trying to figure out how and when to sneak Calum’s name into the conversation, and Ned’s already invited him to rehearsal?
He wasn’t kidding about moving forwards.
Now all I have to do is not screw it up.
Schooling my expression, I follow the others and reach out in welcome. “It’s good to see you again.”
Calum’s hand closes around mine and we shake. The spark ignites. His pale cheeks burn with the rush. “You, too.”
We’re supposed to let go now.
Let go, Johnny.
I release his hand. Our gazes remain stubbornly locked.
“So,” Gavin says, filling the silence as he rubs his hands together, “are you gonna make us famous or what?”
Calum turns towards him, and I suck in a lungful of air. Glancing at Ned, I see him watching me with a quizzical frown. My eyebrows lift in question. When he looks away without a word, I sag with relief.
“It all depends on what your goals are as a band,” Calum is saying when I manage to tune back in.
“I believe happy bands make the best music and have the best longevity in the industry. Those are two of my most important measures of success. Are you headed in the direction you want to go? And are you having a good time along the way?” He gestures to the circle of chairs we vacated when he arrived. “Shall we sit?”
I rush to grab a single chair. The last thing I need is to find myself squished in beside Calum on the less-than-spacious couch.
“All right, gentlemen,” Calum begins once everyone is settled, “let’s have a frank discussion about your future as rock stars.”
A grin erupts onto my face as the others laugh out loud. I take the opportunity to lean closer to Ned, who’s sitting beside me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” I murmur. “Because I get it now and I’m ready to follow your lead on this. Anywhere you want to go.”
“I know,” he says with a nod. “I’m sure. This is exactly what I want.” He glances at me. “It’s still what you want too, right?”
“Hell, yeah.” Even as the words slide off my tongue, my gaze is drawn back to Calum. He’s talking animatedly with Gavin, his body relaxed and eager. It seems job security really is his happy place. It looks good on him. “This is the dream come true,” I tell Ned. “For all of us.”
And yet, I can’t help but want more of the fantasy, too.
That’s what this thing between me and Calum is: a fantasy come to life.
What we feel in each other’s arms is explosive and breathtaking—but it’s also temporary.
The carnal pull of our attraction will release its grip, eventually.
There’s no reason why we can’t end it on good terms. There’s certainly no reason why we can’t continue to work together after the physical aspect of our relationship has run its course.
Surely, it’s possible for the dream and the fantasy to co-exist a little longer.