A Beautiful Melody (13 page)

“Ok guys, let’s do that new song,
Controlled by Longing
from the top. The sound is off,” I say, wanting to give it one last shot to get our board right. Everyone’s exhausted from the long trip, and struggling to give it their all, but we only have a couple of days until the show, and I don’t want to leave anything to chance. Our instruments need to be perfect, our sense of space on the stage, and our sound levels need to be perfect too.

Our set up is kind of a
V-shape, I’m in back with Naomi to my right and ahead of me slightly. Ahead on my left is Jack and his keyboards, and ahead of him is Lachlan on bass. Marcus, being the front man, is front and centre. That way he can move around and interact with everyone as necessary.

Marcus
turns around and nods at me. I count us in, closing my eyes and listening to each note played and each word sung so I can confer with the sound guy afterward.

I can’t control this feeling

I’m about to raze it all to the ground

I need you to stop me,

I need your gentle calm,

I don’t want your words,

Just the cool touch of your palm

Lay with me

W
rap me in your arms

Despite our exhausted state, we’re all playing well. I guess we’re all at a stage where we know that if we fuck around, we could lose our chance at becoming more than a garage band who records all of their own stuff.

Honestly, I’d love to get picked up by a label, or to have someone else manage it. The time and energy I put into this band is huge
– it’s my entire focus. While I love doing it, and love that we’re getting some success out of it, it would be nice to have someone else pick up the slack a bit, so I can actually enjoy some of the fun of the band instead of feeling like I’m everybody’s Nazi dad.

When th
e last notes are played, our attention is turned toward the floor, where a loud clapping is echoing through the room.

A light is trained on the stage, causing the floor to be cast in shadow, but as the figure approaches, we all know immediately who it is.

“Sounding great guys,” Dan Stolle, the front man for Radio Silence praises, his English accent sounding out of place in this Aussie setting as he climbs up onto the stage.

We all thank him, beaming like a bunch of groupies. He shakes each of our hands, complimenting us on our music, but he pays special attention to Naomi.

“You sweetheart, are the reason we said yes to having Matiari support us on this tour. I have to say, I love what you do with that fiddle of yours. It’s seriously making me think of adding a string section to some of our songs.”

“Really?” she giggles. Giggles. She fucking giggles. She keeps a hold of his hand, smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her and giggles. Great.

You have to know that all of us guys are a bit star struck too, but the moment he starts to lift her hand to his lips, I think we all snap out of it and become like a pack of wolves, protecting their female.

“
Absolutely,” he smiles, still holding her hand close to his mouth. The action wipes any smile I had off my face as I watch her turn to a puddle at his feet.

“Well, I just wanted to drop by and meet you all. We’re about to rehearse ourselves, but I hope to be crossing paths again soon.” He directs the last part at Naomi, who fucking giggles again.

“Great. Nice to meet you mate. See you around,” Marcus says tonelessly. I can tell he isn’t impressed with this guy walking in and trying out his rock star charm on our girl either.

Dan Stolle
seems oblivious or just doesn’t care about our reaction as he heads backstage, leaving us all feeling like the wind was just taken out of our sails. For a while I just stand there, staring after him like I’m trying to bore a hole in the back of his head. I mean seriously – who the fuck does he think he is walking in here like that? Hitting on Naomi right in front of us. I mean, he may as well have cocked his leg and taken a piss around the stage to mark his territory. What a jerk. I know that fame does things to people, but you’d think he wouldn’t be so fucking obvious.

Ok, so the only reason we’re here is because he wants Naomi. That’s just great. Now I have to worry about him sniffing around her too.

“We’ll finish up now,” I tell everyone, keeping my head down as I unplug one of the leads and wrap it around my arm to start packing our gear away. I’m sure Radio Silence wouldn’t want any of our stuff stinking up their stage. After all, we’re only here because they want Naomi. Shit.

“Um, you might want to wash your hand,”
I overhear Marcus suggest to Naomi. He says it quietly, but in a big place like this, the sound carries.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you don’t know where he’s been.”

I can say the same thing about my brother. But I guess his memory is a little selective right now.

My eyebrows rise straight to the top of my head. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black don’t you think?” I say to him, annoyed that he’s ruining what was just a very exciting moment for me. I mean
Dan Stolle
of Radio Silence just told me that he was a fan of
my work
and told me that he wants to see me later.

The man is every girl’s wet dream, pure one hundred percent rock star hotness, and he just showed interest in me. Now
Marcus, who has probably slept with every girl I’ve ever known, is telling me to wash my hand after a rock star kissed it. Not cool.

Marcus leans in and whispers in my ear. “
Just say the word, and I won’t touch another one.”

I pull my head back, turning
so I can look up into his eyes. He seems sincere, so I find myself saying. “The word.”

His eyes narrow slightly, as the corner of his mouth turns up. He appears please
d with himself. “Done. Just stay away from the likes of him.”

I roll my eyes, feeling confused and tired. “Are we done
? I just want to eat and go to bed. I’ve had enough for today.”

“I’m with Nomes. I’m beat,” agrees Lachlan. Theo reluctan
tly nods his head as we pick up and put away the last of our equipment. I try to catch his eye as we lock everything in place, but he’s not looking at me. I don’t know if he’s just got his business face on or if he has the shits with me too.

Great. Just when I thought the Bailey brother drama was settling down, they start to go all weird on me. Whatever, we’ve got too much to do to be worrying about male egos.

As we’re leaving, we start to hear Radio Silence tuning their instruments, ready for their rehearsal. I wonder for a moment if it would be ok to stay and listen to them, but I don’t want to look all fangirly around them. I’ll wait to watch them at a later date – after all, we are going to be spending the next few weeks with them.

The downside of sleeping in the car this afternoon is that now my body clock is out of whack, and I can’t sleep. I’ve never been a massive party girl, so unless I’m working, I never stay awake until three in the morning. I’d much prefer to be sleeping. But tonight, I’m watching whatever movie is free on the hotel’s television, wishing I could fall asleep.

I seriously think about paying the ten dollars for one of the tiny bottles of vodka in the mini bar, just to try and depress my system a little
.

Right now, I’m watching an old Carey Grant movie called
An Affair to Remember
. It’s a really beautiful story that has me weeping tears of happiness at the end. Obviously, my sobs are a little on the noisy side, because as the final music plays I hear a soft tapping on my door.

Standing up, I wrap my silk dressing gown around me and pad over to the door, opening it slightly
to peer out into the dimly lit hall. My heart starts to thud when I find Theo standing there looking effortlessly gorgeous in a pair of black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt. His hair looks messy like he’s been trying to sleep, and the stubble that seems to be constantly present on his face has almost doubled since I last saw him.

“Are you ok?” Theo enqui
res, his voice low and soft, as his eyes fill with concern. “Have you been crying?”

I wipe over my eyes
, imagining I must look a fright, and smile reassuringly. “No… well, I have. But not because I’m upset. I was watching a movie. It had a sad ending.”

“Oh. Ok. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it,” he says, starting to turn away.

“Theo?”

He turns back to me, eyebrows raised in question.

“Are you ok? Can’t you sleep?”

He bounces his shoulders slightly and shakes his head. “There’s too much going on in my head
,” he explains.

“
Why don’t you come in for a while?” I offer, unlatching the hook on my door and opening it wider. “I still haven’t shown you the lyrics I was thinking of for that song.”

He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his
sweatpants, the muscles in his arms flexing as he fidgets, trying to decide. “Sure,” he concedes, stepping past me and inside my room.

I close the door and re
-hook the latch before wandering over to switch on a lamp for some light. Muting the television, I go to sit back down on the bed, expecting him to come and sit next to me, but he just stands in the middle of the floor awkwardly before deciding to go and clear one of the lounge chairs to sit on that are currently covered with my things.

“You can sit next to me. I’m not going to bite you,” I tell him, watching hi
m try to organise my mess.

For a moment, he hesitates, my makeup bag in his hand, before deciding to put it back down and c
ome and sit beside me.

“Ok, now what’s bothering you so much that you can’t sleep?” I ask.

“I don’t know. It’s just organising this tour. There’s been so much to do that I’m worried that I’ve forgotten something. I’m worried that I’ve been so preoccupied with planning that I haven’t focused on our sound enough... I don’t know,” he repeats, running his hand over his head, causing his dark hair to stick up even worse than it was before.

Seeing him reclined on the bed,
dressed so comfortably, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, he appears so much softer than he usually does. Normally, I always see him looking put together. Well, except for that time at his place when I caught him shirtless… I take a deep breath and force my mind to focus on the conversation we’re supposed to be having. But my mind starts to produce images of him standing in front of me, shirtless. There’s a tattoo running up the ribs on his right side and I find myself wondering exactly what it is.

H
e rests his head against the headboard and closes his eyes, letting his breath out in a whoosh of air. “I’m just insanely nervous about this tour,” he finishes. To look at him, resting there with his eyes closed, he seems relaxed, but I can feel how wired he is. It’s coming off him in waves.

“
If it’s any consolation, I have complete faith in you. You do an amazing job managing this band.” I tell him, reaching over and touching him on the arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

He meets my eyes and nods, runnin
g his free arm over his face, still looking like a man with the burden of the world on his shoulders. I figure the best thing I can do is distract him, so I reach into my bedside drawer and pull out my note book, turning it to the page where I’ve scrawled some lyrics to go with that song he’s been writing.

“Here, see what you think,” I say as I hand the book to him.

I watch him as he reads over them quietly. Getting nervous as he rubs his chin thoughtfully, but doesn’t give any indication that he might actually like my ideas.

“I um… remembered how you said you wanted the next verse to be about open windows and feeling cold.
I tried to follow the pattern you’d already laid out. Although, I thought the end could extend and we could all harmonise the tune at the end with our voices. It will give it a more solemn sound… I don’t know. I’m not much of a lyricist – I just thought of them after seeing what you’d done…”

“I like them Naomi. I think they’re
perfect actually. If it wasn’t so late, I’d go and get my guitar.”

“Really?” I ask, curling my legs up underneath me and turning to face him so
me more.

“Yes. Really,” he says, closing my notebook and placing it on the bed beside him. Much like with
Marcus, I haven’t had time with Theo that wasn’t band related lately. We’ve started to talk like friends again, but I don’t feel like I know him as well as I once did, and that’s when I realise that perhaps I didn’t really know him at all. Back then, I knew him by another name, another look. I’d like to think he is still that same person I liked so much, but years have gone by, and time changes people.

“Tell me about your Goth faze. What brought that on?” I ask,
repositioning myself so I’m leaning up against the backboard of the bed and turning my body to face him slightly.

Theo
twists over to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. As he thinks over his answer, he plays with the spine of my note book, twisting the spiralled piece of wire that holds the pages together. “Geez, I don’t really know. I guess I just wanted to be different. We were in a school full of egos and Marcus was always so popular. I didn’t want to be known as Marcus’s Less Talented Older Brother. I wanted my own identity. So I created ‘Aramis’, he was this guy that people left alone, they didn’t want to know much about me when I was him. I could do my thing, my way. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does
. What made you stop?”

“You did actually. We’ve um, actually had this conversation before,” he
tells me, sitting up again. “At that party. You asked me the same question, and you said that I wasn’t living my own life at all. You made me realise that all I’d done was create a character, and somewhere along the way I’d forgotten who I was. I was too caught up trying to be different from my brother.”

“Hmmm. I wish I could remember that night,” I mused. “It sounds like I really got to know the real you then.”

“Yeah. I guess you did.”

“Thanks for not taking advantage of me by the way,” I add quickly.

He laughs a little through his nose. “That’s not the kind of guy I am Naomi. I’d never take advantage. I figured there was something wrong with you when you um…”

“Stripped?” I fill
in for him, rolling my eyes as the embarrassment of waking up naked the next morning revisits me.

“Yeah, and when I thought Marcus
had
taken advantage, well, I just lost my shit. I still don’t get why he would let me think that.”

“I don’
t know. He’s always kind of strung me along. I don’t think he actually wants me at all though.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think he trusts himself with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“
Just that you’re not his usual fling.”

“I don’t really think I’m anybody’s ‘usual fling’. I don’t exactly have them lining up asking me out,” I comment
. “Relationships and I don’t really work out. Something always goes wrong.”

“Like jealous brothers?”
he asks, lifting his eyes a little so they meet mine. I’m sure I see a hint of sadness. I recognise it, because I feel the same way about everything that happened that night. But it’s different for me, at least I can’t remember what it was like to be with him. Although, I’m not really sure if that’s better or worse.

“Yeah. I guess,” I agree
. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened between us if Marcus hadn’t gotten in the way. Would Theo have taken care of me all night? Would we have started seeing each other? Maybe he would have followed me to Canberra. Maybe with his support I would have finished my studies. Maybe my life could be completely different.

“I did like you
, you know?” I say suddenly, after a moment of silence. “Back in school. I liked you, even when you were Aramis.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression,” he grins, turning his head
to face me. “What about now?”

The question causes my heart to freeze up in my chest, while my stomach starts to do nervous flips. His eyes darken with want as he looks into mine
, and I struggle to give voice to my answer.

I
nstead, I reach my hand up and lightly run my fingertips down the stubble on his face. He tilts his head slightly, pressing against my hand as he closes his eyes and releases his breath.

“This is a bad idea,” he murmurs as he opens his eyes to meet mine once more.

“I know,” I whisper, keeping my hand on his face as I move my fingers, caressing the coarse hair.

Slowly, we move toward each other
, our mouths just a hair’s breadth away from touching. But we hesitate, eyes locked. I nudge forward, hoping to close the gap, but my hope plummets to create a pit in my stomach as he turns his head away from me.

“I can’t,” he growls
. “Damn it, I can’t.” He pulls away, getting off the bed so he’s standing at a safe distance from me. I make a move to follow him, but when he holds his hands up I freeze, still leaning forward on the bed. “I’m sorry. I made the guys promise not to touch you. I can’t break my own rule.”

“Ok
,” I whisper, nodding my head rapidly, and blinking my eyes to keep back the tears that are threatening to spill at my rejection.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Listen, I’m just going to go.” He points to the door, takes one step towards it, then another back to me. He looks at me, a pained expression crosses his features
before he makes for the door again. This time not coming back.

As soon as the door clicks shut, I bury my face in my pillows and cry. Between the two Bailey brothers my emotions are an absolute wreck right now. I have one who seems to just like teasing me, and one who seems to like me but won’t do anything about it. And then there’s
me, caught in the middle of both of them, never seeming to get what I want.

I hate feeling like this. I’m so confused.