A Beautiful Melody (3 page)

The summer dress I’m wearing
isn’t really appropriate for The Metro, so I go home and get changed into some more gig appropriate clothing. The first thing I do is remove the bandages on my arm. The burns were so minor, that I don’t even think they needed first aid. But that’s what I get for hanging around with a bunch of young parents – coddled.

After taking a quick shower,
I squeeze myself into a form fitting royal blue dress that hits about mid-thigh, add a set of knee high, chunky black boots and my cropped leather jacket, and I feel sufficiently hotted up to go and watch a band and have some fun with Erica and Amy.

As I look in the mirror to fix
my shoulder length blonde hair, I simply run a hair brush through it and darken my makeup slightly. Running the eyeliner pencil around my blue eyes, I think about the last time I partied with those two and pause as I remember. Maybe this is a bad idea? I think to myself, studying my reflection as I war with my decision.

Eventually I continue putting my makeup on, telling myself that I’m older now and
haven’t been that stupid since that night. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Calling a cab, I arrive at the club to find them both waiting out front for me
, wearing tiny scraps of material that make my own dress look modest in comparison.

“You came,” Erica says the moment I step onto the curb. “Amy tried to tell me you wouldn’t show. But I had faith.”

“Fuck off Erica. I just thought she didn’t seem that interested. I didn’t say we should go inside without waiting.”

“Don’t worry about it. Truthfully though, I wasn’t sure if I was coming. But after spending a day with married couples and their kids
, I think I needed to get out and be a single girl,” I explain.

“Well, you’re going to be glad you came. Check out the poster,” Erica says, drawing my attention to the poster advertising the band playing tonight.

“Eskimo Joe?” I ask confused. “I didn’t realise you two were such big fans.” I mean, I like Eskimo Joe and all, but I’m not about to go all fangirl over them.

“No
, you dope. The supporting band. We’re here to see them,” Erica points out.

I look closer and see that the supporting act is a band called
‘Matiari’.

“I’m sorry. I have no idea who ‘Matiari’ are,” I inform them, regretting all the time I’ve spent in night clubs and pubs listening to crappy dance music.

“Oh, you will,” Amy says as she pulls me through the doors.

We make our way inside and
grab a drink from the bar while we wait for the show to start.

“So what kind of band is this ‘Matiari’?”
I ask Amy.

“Oh they’re kind of indie folk rock – very cool. You’ll love them.”

As the tech hand finishes the on stage sound check, the lights start to dim, and we make our way out to the floor, pushing our way through the crowd until we’re right up against the stage. Amy and Erica insist that it’s the only place to be, and I wonder if we’re going to get flicked with sweat or get a cramp in our necks from being so close.

It’s not long before the band walks onto the stage and the crowd
whoops as we watch them move about in the dim light, getting themselves into position and double checking their instruments.

“Thank you all for coming early to see us
.” The smooth voice of the band’s front man filters through the speakers as the lights are trained on the stage. His light brown hair has fallen forward and covers most of his face. Although, his voice sounds so familiar to me. “This first song is called ‘Fragile’. It’s about those relationships you want, but can’t seem to make work.”

He flicks his head back as he starts to strum the beginning notes on his guitar, causing his hair to fall back from his face, revealing a person that makes my heart stop.

“Marcus,” I breathe out, staring up at him as he starts singing in that beautiful smooth voice of his.

“And Theo,” Amy informs me, indicating the drummer. “His brother. Remember him?”

“I didn’t even know Marcus had a brother,” I yell at her over the music, my eyes wide as I focus on the man before me.

“Really?” she replies, scrunching up her face.

I bounce my shoulders in confirmation as my attention is pulled to the stage. I don’t know whether I feel embarrassed or happy that I’m seeing him again. Because let’s face it – your first big crush never really goes away, and it’s so rare that they stay looking as beautiful as Marcus Bailey does. It’s like a day hasn’t passed. Besides his hair being longer, he’s exactly the same. The same boyish good looks, the same dimples when he smiles.

I feel instantly transported back to high school watching him.
And instantly transported back to the morning after we… Oh god. I hope he doesn’t see me. I take a step back and try to melt into the crowd, but it’s too thick, and I’m bustled forward, pressed firmly up against the stage. Right at his feet.

“Why did you sing your song to my heart?

When you knew we were fragile,

Right from the start.”

I play the last notes of the song and open my eyes, nodding my
head as I thank the audience while they cheer and clap for us. I scan the faces in the crowd in front of me, and frown slightly when I see Erica and Amy standing there. They’ve seen this show so many times that they usually just wait backstage for the party that comes later. Erica grins at me and nods her head towards the blonde next to her. She looks really familiar and the moment we lock eyes, I remember who she is.

Naomi, a girl I used to flirt uncontrollably with in high school
. I grin broadly. I haven’t seen her for years – not since that drunken party we were all at. We had an interesting night together after years of teasing each other and after she left, she vanished. I haven’t seen her since.

My eyes drag over her body -
I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s even hotter now than she was back then. She smiles back briefly, and I look over at Amy, tilting my head toward the backstage entrance. She nods and I grin again, now looking forward to the show finishing.

I announce the next song
, and my brother Theo counts us in on the drums. This song is more upbeat and involves the whole band. There are four of us. I front on lead guitar and vocals, my brother is our drummer, a guy called Lachlan is our bassist – he’s only been with us for a couple of months, and Jack is on keyboards – we’ve known him since school as well. He was in my grade and we’ve been friends since year seven.

Normally, I want my time on stage to last forever. I love playing in
front of an audience. I love the energy of the room when they’re all cheering and loving our music. But tonight I’m eager to get backstage so I can talk to an old friend.

“What did you think?” Amy calls over the din of the cheers around us, as Matiari leaves the stage.

“They were fantastic, actually,” I reply.

“I know. They’re going to go far I think. Marcus was born a star. He’s always been amazing,” Erica puts in.

I have to agree. Ma
rcus was that guy at school who everyone knew. We all attended the same performing arts school. It was filled with wannabe actors, dancers and musicians. Despite having to deal with everyone’s egos, it was a great place to pour your heart into your craft. The real world isn’t as nurturing as that school was, so most of us ended up in ‘normal’ jobs. But there were a handful of people that you just knew were going to be someone. Marcus was one of them.

I can’t help but sigh as I think of him back then, sitting outside at lunch time with his guitar and a slew of girls around him. I’m also embarrassed to admit that I was one of those girls. I loved listening to him
.

The difference between me and most of those girls though, was that I could play by ear, and quickly learned his songs. I remember the look on his face the first day that I pulled
out my violin and joined in. I impressed him, enough that we became whatever his version was of friends.

I alw
ays wanted more from him though. I had a massive crush on him, but he always seemed to be attached to some other pretty girl. I guess we were meant to only be band mates. That was fine by me, because he was a ‘use them and throw them away’ type of guy. I didn’t want to be the girl he slept with then ignored, so I continued to admire him from where I was and play with him whenever the right school project came up.

Eventually though
, high school was over and I went to a party. I don’t remember drinking much that night, so I figure one of my drinks must have been spiked, because I have no recollection of what I did beyond a certain point. When I woke up the next morning, I was in bed with Marcus and I couldn’t remember getting there.

I was so mortified, that I
got out of bed and tried to find my clothes as fast as I could. Marcus of course, woke up and saw me there, just as I finished getting my panties and bra on. From the way his brow creased when our eyes met, I knew that was it. I was about to get thrown away. Friendship over.

“Listen, about last night. I…” he started
, looking down as if he was embarrassed. I didn’t want to hear the rejection, so I cut him off as I picked up my dress and my shoes.

“Don’t worry about. We’
re cool,” I told him, as I quickly turned away and dropped my dress over my body, stuffing my feet into my shoes. With that, I walked out of the room, picked my way through the sleeping bodies in the living area and left the house.

When I switched on my phone
, I had all of these photo messages of me throwing myself at my friend Aramis and I just burst into tears. I could only imagine what he must have thought of me. Suddenly, it was this big deal that I had slept with two guys on the same night.

I tried to call
Aramis, to tell him that I couldn’t even remember the party, that I didn’t know what I was doing. But he didn’t answer, and he didn’t call me back. And why would he? He must’ve thought I was a total slut. Everybody else did.

After that,
I moved on with my life. The next week, I moved to Canberra to attend the Australian National University’s School of Music. Everything moved forward rather rapidly from there, and I threw myself into my music for a couple of years, eventually losing heart and dropping out before my course was finished.

That’s when I went to the UK and started bar tending.
I told myself it was just a holiday job – that I needed a break from music. But I’ve been back in Australia for over two years and I’m still working the bar. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.

“
Come with us. We’re not staying for the main show,” Erica says next to my ear, snapping me back to the present.

“Oh, we’re leaving?” I ask.

“No,” Amy grins, “We know the band. We’re going back stage.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. It’s too embarrassing.
I don’t want to see Marcus again,” I whine.

“Don’t be silly, as if he even remembers,” Amy tells me, her voice as impassive as always.

“I don’t care. It’s still embarrassing. Besides, I’m a bartender now. I feel like a loser.”

“Yeah, and what do you think we do? Erica is a receptionist at a Real Estate office and I’m a sales girl in a jewellery store. There aren’t many of us who made it as anything related to the arts
.”

By the time
we’re finished our discussion, I realise that they’ve managed to herd me towards the backstage entrance, where a large Islander man is blocking our way.

We don’t have any sort of backstage pass, so I figure this is where this will all end and secretly cheer
that I won’t have to face him.

My relief is short lived however
, as they both give the bouncer a hug and a cheek kiss and he opens the door for us.

Back stage is a series of narrow passage ways, littered with various people who obviously have something to do with either of the bands. I hear the music start up again as Eskimo Joe takes the stage and the crowd roars – they are after all, who they all came to see.

Erica takes me by the hand and pulls me along behind her. It’s as if she’s worried that I’m going to get lost or refuse to follow. Although the latter is the most likely scenario.

Eventually
, we make it to a room with the band’s name on a printed piece of A4 paper, taped to the door, and push our way through partially blocked entrance. There aren’t that many people in here, maybe a dozen tops. But the room is so small that we’re all squished against each other and to top it off, the delightful scent of sweaty man is filling the air, causing me to scrunch up my nose a little.

“Naomi,” Marcus croons
, as he positions himself directly in my path. He’s dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest but loosely around his waist. He’s got that V shape that girls love looking at, down to a tee. While he was on stage, he also wore a black blazer, but he’s discarded that now and is looking casual, as he stands before me, holding a bottle of beer.

“Marcus,” I nod. What else am I supposed to say here?
– Hi Marcus, how have you been since you screwed me while I was so wasted I don’t even remember it? – no, that doesn’t seem appropriate. That, and I’m pretty sure it will make me sound pathetic, like I’ve been holding a candle for him all this time… which it’s kind of possible that I have… ok – so I guess I am a little pathetic.

“It’s been a long time. I heard you got into
ANU,” he says as he looks down at me from his six foot three height. Marcus is a giant compared to me. I’m only five foot four, so I rely heavily on heels to bring me a little closer to most people’s eye level. Although with guys like Marcus, I realise how short I really am when he tips his head back to take a pull of his beer, because I’m introduced to his Adams apple.

“Yeah. Well. That didn’t really work out,” I say, looking around the room as I scratch a
non-existent itch on the back of my head, thinking of a way to change the subject without being lame. “Um that was a great performance tonight. I didn’t realise you were doing so well.” Obviously, I’m unsuccessful, he’s probably heard ‘great show’ fifty times already.

He places his hand on his heart and scrunches up his face in mock pain. “Oh, you injure me. You mean you haven’t been following my
career?”

I can’t help but laugh
, even though I’m still fidgeting awkwardly in front of him. I want to relax, to talk to him easily like I used to, but this is hard. Sex changes things. “No. Should I have been?” I ask finally.

“Of course
not,” he smiles, softening his voice. “But, I’m glad you liked the show.”

“I did,
very much.”

We stand there, just looking at each other for a moment
. A grin pulls up at the corner of his mouth, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the last time he saw me. I squirm a little under his gaze. It’s hard enough being polite to someone you’ve slept with before, but the fact that I have no recollection of it and he does, makes me feel unusually uncomfortable.

“
You know, it is missing something though,” he says after a while.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Strings.”

I fidget with my hair, not feeling entirely sure at what he’s getting at, although I have a pretty good idea. I’m j
ust not ready to react until I know for sure.

“Do you still play?”
he asks.

“For myself. Yeah. I’ve spent more time on the piano lately though. The violin wasn’t really working out that great for me.”

“It always worked great for me,” he says, his voice low and intimate as he leans in closer.

My cheeks flame hot as I
drop my face and move back slightly.

“Marcus,
” another male voice interrupts.

I look up
and I’m met with a pair of eyes that are just as dark as Marcus’s are light. My heart starts to beat faster at the intensity of his gaze. He takes my breath away and I feel like I know him. He’s a tiny bit shorter than Marcus but he has the same strong, lean build with dark brown hair that falls messily about his chiselled face. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asks. I’m pretty sure I remember this guy from on stage, although I was so focused on Marcus, that I can’t really be sure. He’s so familiar to me though. There’s something about him that’s tugging at my memory. I just can’t put my finger on it.

Marcus’
s brow creases slightly. “Seriously? You need an introduction?”

“I do,” he says, smiling in a
way that doesn’t meet his eyes. Suddenly, I’m on guard as I get a sense of animosity toward me.

Marcus rolls his eyes
before making the introductions. “Theo, this is Naomi – you probably remember her from school. Naomi, this is Theo, my older brother. You should also remember him from school.”

“Hi,” I say, holding out my hand to shake his, all the while
continuing to search my memory for how I know him. As I said, he looks familiar, but I don’t think I actually know him. Perhaps I’ve only ever seen his photo?

“Can’t say I do remember her from school,” Theo notes, not bothering to take my hand.

Relief floods over me as my hand flies back to my chest. “Thank goodness, I was really worried because I can’t remember you either,” I smile, attempting to be friendly. “I mean, you look familiar. But I can’t remember anything specific. It might just be because you look a lot like Marcus.”

One of his eyes narrows as he looks me over.
“Actually, Marcus looks like me. I’m the eldest,” he says, looking away from me like he can’t be bothered with me anymore. I’m slightly taken aback by his attitude. He doesn’t seem to like me much, and I wonder what his deal is.

His lips curve into a thin smile as he turns to Marcus. “So what are we talking about?”

“I was just inviting Naomi to come and jam with us next week with her violin. I think it would sound great – a bit of strings and female vocals.”

“Hmmm,”
Theo grunts, as he moves away from us and starts talking with someone else.

“Ignore him. He
lost one of his drumsticks a while ago, and I think it got lodged permanently up his arse. It makes him constantly cranky.”

I can’t help but laugh at the image that flits through my mind and
find myself beginning to relax a little.

“Listen, I have
to go and talk to some people. But I’m really glad to see you again. And I mean what I said. I want you to come and play with us next week, show the guys what you can do - how great you’d make us.”

He
pulls out a card and a pen and scrawls on the back of it, handing it to me. Looking over it, I see that it’s their business card, it has a contact number, a web address, email, and a hand written address on the back of it. 

“It was really great seeing you again Nomes. I’ve missed you,” he tells me, lightly touching my arm as he steps away from me.

I close my eyes for a moment to gather myself. Having him close to me again is messing with my head a little. I feel a lot like that school girl who had a permanent crush right now, and I’m fighting to stay grounded.

Although
, when I look over my shoulder and find him standing and talking with a busty red head hanging off his arm, I remember exactly why I stayed away from him all those years… well… except that one night of course.