CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-THREE
Can you hear me? If I shout a little louder, grovel a little deeper, will you hear me?
– from ‘The Mistakes I Own’, by These Exiles
THE ECHO REBOUNDED AROUND the studio as I allowed the door to shut behind me.
It was an echo I knew well, but it had been weeks since I’d been in here.
The box of cables we’d left half-sorted had been cleared away – a flash of guilt went through me at the thought of the poor intern who’d been forced to do it – and there was a fresh smell in the air that suggested the place had been cleaned recently.
I stepped slowly over to the electric keyboard. I plonked a few keys. It wasn’t plugged in.
Why did it feel so strange to be back? It hadn’t been that long; the studio was the place I was supposed to feel most at home.
The most centred.
‘There you are, Patrick.’
I turned and grinned at Wes, who was striding in with two coffees. ‘Please tell me one of those is for me.’
‘Sorry, I need the extra caffeine boost,’ Wes said breezily, setting them down and lifting one out of the tray to his lips. ‘You know I’ve recently discovered this new place, Maria’s?’
I hadn’t expected the visceral reaction, the shooting through my spine, the tearing in my chest –
‘She does this incredible –’ Thankfully, his voice got cut off.
‘There he is!’ The door opened and in stepped Matt, a wide grin on his face. ‘Taking one for the team there, catching all the headlines!’
My full-body wince must have been visible, because Wes said curiously, ‘What have you done now?’
‘The man’s done nothing,’ Matt began. ‘It’s that Jessy –’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I snapped.
Matt shifted on his feet. ‘My bad, man. Didn’t mean anything by it.’
Trying to force my hackles down, I gave my friend a brief nod. ‘It’s fine.’
It was not fine. Sleep eluded me, I still had absolutely no desire to eat, and every time I picked up my phone I half-expected to see a message from Jessy.
Then I remembered that I wouldn’t ever receive a message from Jessy again.
The boys moved on, catching each other up on their activities across the globe.
‘The reality show wasn’t all that bad,’ Matt was saying, stretching out on a chair as he swiped Wes’s spare coffee. ‘I could have done without the cameras in my face all the time, but after a while you start to forget about them.’
‘Yeah, well, I still think I got the sweet end of the deal,’ Wes replied, dropping down on to the piano stool and casting me another curious glance before continuing. ‘It was incredible. Some of the programmes they’re doing out there are truly life-changing.’
My bandmates’ chatter continued, though I couldn’t bring myself to pay much attention.
It all felt so … so far away. I could smile, nod at regular intervals, brave through it and pretend as though I was perfectly fine.
Because I should have been. Fine, that was.
Jessy was just a woman.
A woman I met almost accidentally on a dating app.
I hadn’t expected it to be anything – the contract had forced us to spend time together … and I hadn’t even noticed that I was falling for her until it was too late.
Until I had royally fucked it up.
And now? Now, it felt like there was a huge gaping hole in my chest. Something had been scooped out, and I felt irrevocably changed.
Without Jessy in my life, everything felt … empty.
I’d never been like this before. It was horrendous, discovering my happiness could be so dependent on another person.
But it had been my own actions that had pushed her away.
I had no one to blame but myself.
‘What’s up, gang!’
I turned and forced a smile as Ben walked in, all smile and sunglasses.
Wes and Matt grinned and welcomed him in, while I sat back in the chair I’d somehow found myself on.
‘– great to see you –’
‘– how was that charity event, huh? I didn’t spot –’
‘Yeah, it was OK,’ Ben said brightly, pulling away from the two of them to approach me, his smile slightly fading.
I stiffened. A serious Ben was never normally a good thing –
‘Thanks,’ said Ben, dropping on to the chair beside me.
My suspicion must have been written all over my face, because he laughed.
‘No, I mean it. Thanks, dude.’ He clapped me on my shoulder.
‘What for?’ I asked, genuinely confused.
Ben gave a nonchalant shrug, but I could see the tension in his eyes. ‘For covering for me. Taking the blame. Dealing with all this shit because of it and never giving me up.’
I couldn’t remember seeing Ben this … this serious. Not ever.
He continued, his tone sombre. ‘You know that charity stuff Derek made me do?’
I shrugged. ‘Yeah, how did you find it?’
‘It was pretty transformative, I can’t lie.
I went into schools with a group that educates kids on the dangers of drink-driving.
’ A shiver rustled through him. ‘Fuck me. They wanted me to talk about watching a friend make bad choices, and the whole time it was my bad choices that could have really hurt … just … thanks, man.’
He didn’t need to thank me, but I was glad he’d learnt something from the work he’d been doing. ‘No worries. Just try not to dick about any more, yeah?’
‘Well, no promises.’ The twinkle in Ben’s eye was back, but there was a seriousness in his expression that reassured me he wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
‘Hey, Patrick!’
We looked up. Wes had finished his coffee, had apparently wrestled his second coffee back off Matt and was looking over at us curiously. ‘I thought you said Derek wanted us here at eleven?’
Ah. Yeah. Right.
‘He didn’t,’ I said quietly. ‘But I did.’
The confusion on my bandmates’ faces was expected – but I hadn’t been able to think of a way to convince them to come in this early without the spectre of Derek looming above the request.
‘You?’ Matt frowned. ‘Why, what’s up, man?’
Taking a deep breath, I said softly, ‘I have a new song.’
Matt’s frown disappeared. ‘Your writer’s block, it’s gone?’
Ben’s groan was painfully predictable. ‘Shit, man, do we really have to start on the next album right now? Seriously?’
‘We’re meant to be playing at the Songwriter Awards tomorrow,’ Wes pointed out. ‘Don’t you think we’d spend our time better practising the song we’ve picked to perform?’
‘I was thinking we could perform this new one instead,’ I replied steadily.
Ben swore under his breath.
‘We do not,’ Matt said firmly, ‘have time to write and learn a new song in just –’
‘It’s already written,’ I interjected, hating how desperately I wanted this, needed this. ‘All you’d have to do is learn –’
‘And then perform it on a stage before hundreds of people in the audience and millions streaming live?’ Ben snorted. ‘With less than twenty-four hours to practise. Bro, have you lost your mind?’
‘I think we should do it.’
Three heads turned towards Wes. His quiet way of speaking had always cut through the noisiness of Ben and Matt.
For the second time, Ben swore under his breath.
Wes shrugged. ‘I can’t think of a better way to get people’s attention. We’ve been hounded with questions about a new album for weeks.’
‘Yeah, but a completely new –’
‘Let’s hear it,’ Wes said, leaning back against the electric keyboard.
My stomach lurched as I picked up one of the session guitars from the rack. Despite my hopes, part of me hadn’t expected them to even want to hear it, and now it came to it … well. I wasn’t sure I felt prepared.
‘Need a key?’ Matt shot over.
I shook my head. ‘Nah, not for this.’
The last thing I needed was another instrument as a distraction. It was going to be hard enough getting this out at all.
Unlocking my phone and opening the finalized lyrics, I blew out a long breath.
There was nothing, almost nothing, more vulnerable than sharing a song for the first time. Even with my best friends.
‘OK, here we go,’ I muttered, mostly to myself.
The chords felt like home as I strummed the opening. Glancing at my phone was hardly necessary as I sang about the woman I’d managed to let get away.
Jessy Donovan.
Butterflies, it was butterflies the moment I first saw you
Coffee cup, looking up, seeing the world change in your eyes
The lyrics had poured out of me. That was, the linking lyrics had – most of the imagery I’d jotted down as our fake dates had turned into something so much more.
Ink my soul upon your heart if you love me too
Call me quick, lest you slip, through my fingers
It was one of the few songs I’d written with almost no edits. It hadn’t needed them.
And when we take over the world, and we will
Carve your joy, fuck the ploy, contract over
I should have felt self-conscious, playing the first song I’d ever written about an actual woman to my bandmates – but I couldn’t feel anything. Just the lyrics. Just the ache in me. Just the need for her.
And it should never have been me
But it should have been you
It was never supposed to be us
But it could have been true
And if all I have to do is put away my fears
I need you to know your name is music to my ears.
As the chords faded in the studio, I forced myself to swallow the knot that had emerged in my throat. How on earth I’d managed to sing the whole thing, I didn’t know. Emotions churned in my chest, hope and pain and regret all warring within me.
I looked up.
Wes was staring, his brow slightly furrowed. Ben exhaled slowly, shaking his head without saying a word.
Tension gripped me. If the boys didn’t like it, then I wouldn’t know what to do.
‘Well,’ Matt said, breaking the silence. ‘That was bloody brilliant.’
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
‘Understatement of the year!’ a familiar voice called from the doorway. ‘Lead single for the next album, is it?’
I winced as Derek stepped into the studio, though it didn’t last long. The man was holding coffee.
‘Right, you guys, I think it’s about time that you broke for an early lunch,’ our publicist said smoothly as he handed them out. ‘Yes, Wes, it’s oat milk – off you go.’
‘It’s not even half eleven,’ Ben pointed out with a grin.