8. Callum
8
CALLUM
“ L ate night?”
I looked up from the breakfast table to see Liz entering. I was nursing a pounding headache as I cradled a coffee mug in my hands. I groaned at my sister, unable to form words. She smirked at me and went to pour a mug of her own.
I had barely slept. After Darcy walked out last night, I sat in my dressing room trying to figure out what had happened. The memory of our time together kept flashing through my brain, perfect and tantalizing. But then I saw Darcy standing at the door.
We don’t have to pretend this was anything more than it was.
What had she meant? I couldn’t figure out why things had changed so quickly. I thought there was a true connection between us. Something we were both starting to recognize. But after last night, I was pretty sure Darcy didn’t feel the same way I did. And yet she had slept with me...
“What time did you get home?” Liz asked as she took a seat next to me.
“Maybe three?” I guessed.
After Darcy left, I got dressed and sat in front of the mirror. I stared at myself, trying to figure out what was going on. But every time I looked, my mind flashed to Darcy on the counter, her legs wrapped around me, her back pressed into the wall.
“And Darcy?” Liz asked. I wasn’t in the mood for Liz’s intrigue. And I definitely wasn’t ready to tell my sister all the details of last night. If Darcy wanted Liz to know, she could tell her.
“Earlier,” I grumbled. I left it at that. Let Liz think what she wanted.
Eventually, some custodian of the theater had come down to knock on the door and ask me to leave. I had snapped at the man, but I knew it wasn’t the cleaner I was frustrated with. How had I let things go so badly with Darcy?
“Where are the kids?” I asked, needing something else to talk about. I was used to energetic breakfasts with my niece and nephew fighting over the cereal box. This morning the house was quiet.
“We dropped them with the grandparents last night,” Liz explained. “They love it, and it gives me and Eric a break.”
I sipped my coffee black, glad for the hot liquid that burned its way down my throat.
“Hey, don’t worry about Darcy.” I kept my eyes on my mug as Liz spoke. The last thing I wanted was to talk to my sister about my sex life. My shoulders stiffened, and I had to force myself not to snap at Liz.
“She’ll come around,” Liz continued. “You know she was engaged, right?”
I remembered hearing this. Mostly because I remembered the strange sadness I had felt when I saw the engagement photos on Instagram. It had felt like the closing of a door. So I was flooded with relief when one day on the phone Liz said she no longer had to help Darcy plan a wedding.
“And her father passed away. It’s a lot for one person to deal with. All in the course of maybe eight months. So, I’m not surprised she isn’t ready to jump into something new.”
Darcy had told me both these things in the hardware store, but I didn’t have many of the details.
“What happened with her fiancé?” I grumbled, letting my curiosity get the better of me. Liz’s eyes grew wide as she slid closer to me.
“Don’t tell her I said this, but I never liked the guy. He was the sort of dude who insisted on splitting checks at dinner and keeping tabs on who paid for the last tank of gas. Very…transactional.”
I felt an instant dislike bubbling in my chest.
“No joke—he kept lists on who chose the TV show they would watch each night. And his workout schedule always trumped any plans they might have. Eric and I invited them to join us for a weekend vacation, and they couldn’t come until Saturday morning because he had to go to the gym Friday night.”
“Sounds like a selfish ass.” If Liz’s stories were true, it was a good thing Darcy had gotten away from this guy. She deserved better than a husband who was wrapped up in himself. A question started banging in my head, joining the headache pressing against my eyes.
“Do you think …” I stopped myself.
“What?” Liz asked. I debated whether I should talk to her about this. I remembered the way she would tease me about girlfriends when we were teenagers. But Liz and I were finding a nice adult relationship. Maybe she could bring some insight to the situation. After all, she was Darcy’s best friend.
“Do you think Darcy sees me that way? Wrapped up only in myself?”
To her credit, Liz didn’t laugh at me. But she also didn’t deny it. I felt something hard and painful in my chest, growing worse the longer Liz let the silence hang between us.
“She might think that,” Liz said carefully. “I think a lot of people might. All the news stories and the magazine articles … those people like to show a certain image, you know?”
“I can’t help what they write about me!” It was a constant frustration for me. When I wanted to focus on music, the world seemed more interested in my latest hairstyle and which girl was walking me into the concert venue.
“I know. But it’s out there. Anyone reading about you is bound to assume you’re some rock star looking for fame and women and money.”
“But that’s not me,” I mumbled.
“ I know that,” Liz assured me. “Of course I do. But Darcy hasn’t seen you since high school. You’ve barely talked to each other. All she’s had are the news articles and the talk-show interviews.”
“But don’t you tell her? When you talk about me, don’t you explain it’s all an act?”
Now was the time for Liz to laugh. She snorted, rolling her eyes at me.
“Despite what you might think, we don’t spend much time chatting about my older brother. God, maybe this rock-star role has gone to your head.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said. But I had to admit it was a bit crazy to think Liz and Darcy sat around talking about me.
“It’s alright,” Liz said. “I know you’re not like that.”
We sipped coffee together, enjoying each other’s company.
“I have to shower and get to the office. Will you be alright?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. I watched Liz cross back to the coffee pot to top off her mug.
“I’ll try to talk to her,” Liz said as she began to leave the room.
“Don’t!” I said, stopping Liz in her tracks. I was suddenly and irrationally panicked. What if Darcy was upset I’d talked to Liz? What if she thought I was spreading rumors about what happened last night?
“What?” Liz looked at me like I was crazy, a moment away from laughing again.
“I don’t … don’t tell her we talked about her.”
“What is this? High school?”
“I just … I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Like you said … she’s been through a lot this year. The last thing I want is to put any pressure on her.”
“Alright,” Liz said. “I won’t bring anything up. Not unless she asks.”
“Thank you.” I sighed in relief.
“Try to relax today. You’ve been going nonstop.”
“With the concert over, no one’s expecting anything of me today,” I told her, feeling the reality of this for the first time all morning. “I plan to rest!”
My phone buzzed on the table next to me, and I looked down to see Liam’s name on the screen. Liam was the drummer of the Horizon , and one of my closest friends.
“I spoke too soon,” I said, showing Liz the name on my screen. My sister knew my bandmates well, even having a brief relationship with my bass player at one point. I had disapproved of the relationship the whole time, and I was much relieved when Liz settled down with Eric, a high school English teacher.
“Good luck,” Liz laughed. She left the room as I answered the phone.
“Hey man,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“What’s up?” Liam asked. “How was the concert last night?”
“Good. Fun to play in my hometown.”
“Right. I bet.”
“Everything good with you?”
“Yeah, man. Weird to have some time off.”
“Uh-huh.” I grumbled my agreement, though in reality I felt the opposite. I knew my bandmates were eager to continue our tour. They loved life on the road and the adventures they could have in each new city. I seemed to be the only one eager to find some stability in my life.
“Hey, I saw some of the new music you played. Where have you been hiding those songs, man?”
I felt my body go cold.
“You saw the concert?”
“Yeah. Some clips on YouTube. Those songs are killer, man! I showed them to the guys. With the right beat and some backup vocals, we might have our next album on our hands.”
Panic was setting in, making my thoughts race. That music was mine . I hadn’t written those songs for the Horizon.
“I don’t know,” I said, struggling for the right words. “I think they’re better in the acoustic version. Sort of a solo thing, you know?”
“Solo?” Liam asked. I could almost feel him bristling on the other end of the phone. “What does that mean?”
“It was just something I was trying, man.” I said, attempting to lessen the impact of those new songs. I wasn’t ready to tell my bandmates that I wanted to branch out on my own for a bit. Right now, it was still an idea I was considering. “I had this concert on the books. And I knew it was a solo event. So, I just wanted to try out an acoustic sound.”
“Got it,” Liam said, but I could hear a tightness in his voice. “Well, the songs are good, man. If you want to keep working on them, we could really make ‘em great.”
I swallowed hard, ignoring Liam’s dig. My bandmates always thought I couldn’t do my thing without them. Was Liam saying I couldn’t succeed on my own?
“Maybe you can find some time to write more while you’re out there relaxing. You know, something other than this new acoustic sound .”
“Hey, I have to go,” I said, needing to get off the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, man. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and dropped my phone face down on the table. I never thought my bandmates would see that concert. How could something leak from my small hometown theater? I’d seen it as the perfect, private place to debut some new music without any risk, far away from the eyes of the world.
Curious, I picked up my phone and flipped to YouTube with a sense of dread in my stomach. I typed in a few key search terms, praying I wouldn’t find anything. But there, right up top, I saw a still shot of my face at a microphone, the curtains of the Maplewood theater behind me. I clicked on the link and heard my own voice filter out from the phone’s speakers. Under the video I saw a number rising in front of my eyes: 60.7 thousand views.
I needed some air. I pushed my way out of the house with my head swimming. Somehow, without realizing it, it seemed I had just launched my solo career.