Melody: Beautiful Series, book three

by Anderson, Lilliana

  “I don’t know.” She sighs. “I guess I just lost heart. I went from being the best in our school to being just like everyone else. I wasn’t so special there. Heaps of students could play even more instruments than I can, and they could pick up the music and play even better than I can, and I guess I just got lost in it all.”

  “Sounds like a bit of a shit fight.”

  “It was. Everyone was vying for the same positions in the orchestra, and I realised it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to be an instrument in the crowd. I didn’t want to fight like everyone else was. The competition just took all the fun out of it, so the moment I started to dread opening my violin case, I decided I’d had enough, and I left.”

  Lachlan and Jack move closer to listen as well. It’s something we’ve all been interested in knowing, especially when the music school at the Australian National University is the best in the country. Everyone who wanted a career in music applied there. Hell, I even applied to go there, but I didn’t make it. She did.

  “I know a lot of people think I wasted a great opportunity, but I just couldn’t keep doing something I wasn’t enjoying. I mean, what’s the point in getting a coveted position in Australia’s top orchestra if you’re not really into it? It’s pointless right?” she explains, looking at each of us as we all make some sort of agreeable noise. “I’m so much happier playing here. This kind of musical freedom feeds my soul.”

  “I get it.” I nod.

  “Me too,” Jack says.

  “Well, I’m glad you dropped out, Nomes,” Lachlan adds. “Because if you’d gone on, you’d be playing the philharmonic or something and we wouldn’t be going on tour with fucking Radio Silence!”

  Jack whoops, high-fiving Lachlan as Naomi and I laugh.

  “Thanks guys,” she says. “I’m ridiculously excited about this tour too.”

  “Speaking of the tour,” I say. “Where the hell is Theo? We need to get this rehearsal in.”

  Theo

  I open the door just as Marcus asks where I am. “Speak of the devil” he says. I’m not surprised to find he’s sitting right next to Naomi as they all huddle together gossiping about god only knows what. Hair products or something, knowing this lot.

  “Hey Theo,” Naomi says with one of her bright, day-making smiles. Marcus is right. She is like sunshine and motherfucking rainbows. Even I feel a twitch of a smile trying to fight its way to the surface. But I squash it down and maintain my straight face. We don’t need smiles. We aren’t the Wiggles.

  “All right, ladies. Let’s get this done.” I head straight for my drum kit and pick up my sticks, tossing them in the air and catching them before I sit down.

  “I love that move,” Naomi says, giggling as she gets into position.

  Jack sits down at his keyboard. “All business today, huh?”

  “Yep. And you should be too. We’ve got less than a month to get these songs perfected if we want to make the most of this tour. I just got off the phone with the tour manager and we’re playing ten shows in three weeks. If we aren’t capable of playing this stuff together in our sleep we’re gonna end up sounding shit by the end of it. So get your arses into gear and stop your fucking gas bagging.”

  “Yes, sir!” Naomi smiles, saluting me before she picks up her violin. I try to hide it, but I can’t help but crack a smile. “I knew I’d get you eventually,” she teases.

  Despite my reservations, I have to admit Naomi’s been perfect for the band. She works harder than any of us—including me—and lightens the mood when it’s needed. She even has a way of making me realise I don’t have to be serious and in control all the time. In fact, I think she’s the one controlling the lot of us these days. But I trust she’s doing it because she wants us to succeed together. Otherwise, why would she be willing to quit just to keep me around? She could have easily let me go the same way Marcus did. But she stood there and fought me on it, and she was willing to sacrifice her own chance at making it just so I’d make it too. That takes guts. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it all night. I don’t think anyone has had my back like that before.

  “What’s first?” Marcus asks, shooting a look my way.

  “Can we do It’s a Crime?” Jack suggests. “I need to loosen my fingers up a bit.”

  “Sure,” I say. “We’ll run through the set we played at the Recital Centre. But when we’re finished, I want you all to stick around. We’ll order pizza and hash out our set lists for the tour. We’ll try to get something that transitions perfectly.”

  “That sounds amazing,” Naomi says.

  “Yeah.” Marcus frowns. “Who are you, and what did you do to my brother? You normally bang this stuff together on your own.”

  “I’d like everyone’s input,” I explain.

  “We’re playin’ with the big boys now,” Lachlan says, plucking out a beat on his bass. “Our man’s just steppin’ up our game.”

  I never thought I’d see the day when Lachlan was the one who understood me. But here we are. Perhaps it’s because the guy always sees the positive side of things, and I’m actually feeling good about this tour this morning. Actually, I woke up feeling better about a lot of things this morning. And as long as I can keep my focus on the music, it should stay that way.

  Twenty

  Marcus

  I could do with a break and we haven’t even hit the road yet. After a month of pain-staking preparation, we’re packed and ready to travel. Each of us is capable of farting in tune now. We’re as good as we’re gonna get, and I’m already feeling a little melancholy over the fact Theo is leaving at the end of this. I feel like this last few weeks has made us such a cohesive unit that replacing him will be nearly impossible. Plus, the guy is my brother. I’m really gonna miss that bastard.

  “To new beginnings,” I say as I lock up the studio, walking away from it for the last time. We’ve shared so many memories here over the years. We spent an entire weekend soundproofing it when the neighbours complained. Then we played about a hundred shitty pub gigs to pay for our recording and mixing equipment. Besides letting years of work go, there’s history here. I think I was wrong to say the band could survive without him. And now the damage is done.

  “Can I say something before we get in the van?” Naomi asks as the others throw their duffle bags in the back.

  “Only if we get to stand in a circle, then yell ‘go team’ at the end of it,” Jacks says, holding his hand out in front of him. The rest of us laugh and gather around, stacking our hands one on the other until Naomi’s is on the top. Touching Theo’s. I will not growl. I will not growl.

  “I’m so incredibly proud of us,” she starts, grinning like the pretty blonde angel she is. “When you think back to what we were in high school to what we’ve become now, we’ve grown so much and accomplished more than pretty much everyone we knew. I know in my heart that we’re going to blow the socks of everyone we play for over these next ten weeks. Radio Silence’s audience is enormous, and if we can convince a tenth of them to give us another shot, all this work we’ve been doing is going to pay off in spades. I guess what I’m really saying here, is that I believe in us. This is our moment, guys. The start of something new and amazing. And if we can all promise to keep each other grounded and professional as this thing blows up, we could be doing this as our actual jobs for the rest of our lives. How cool would that be?” She looks around the circle of bobbing heads while my eyes find Theo’s and I offer a small smile. I need to try to convince him to stay.

  “Can we yell ‘go team’ now?” Lachlan asks.

  “Not yet,” Theo says. “I want to add something, because I’m proud of us too. I might not seem like I’m happy about it most of the time but being in this band has been the highlight of my life so far. I fucking love you arseholes, and no matter how big or small we become when this tour is over, I want you all to know that I see you as family, and I don’t regret any of it.”

  “Jesus, mate. Who cut your dick off and gave you a pus
sy?” Jack teases, rubbing his free hand on top of Theo’s head and messing up his hair.

  “Fuck off, douchebag. It’s the one and only time I’m saying anything nice to you cunts.”

  “Aww, come on, guys,” Naomi says. “There’s a lady present.”

  “I’m still waiting for the ‘go team’ part,” Lachlan says.

  “On three,” I say, and we count it out. “One, two, three. Go team.”

  There’s some friendly backslapping as everyone jumps into the van, chatting and joking around as the excitement builds. I really want to be excited with them, but I find myself taking another look back at Theo’s place while wondering how I’m going to salvage what’s left of our relationship. Or if there’s even a relationship left to salvage at all. We started here as an idea between brothers and we’re ending as a band on tour around the country, playing in every big venue there is. It’s a huge leap, and it’s one Theo and I have taken together. This can’t be goodbye.

  “Fuck.” I rub my hand over my head, taking in the enormity of what we’re about to do. Radio motherfucking Silence has asked us to tour with them. All things aside—holy shit.

  If you don’t know who Radio Silence is, you must have been living under a rock for the good part of ten years. Most days, you can’t make it through a day without hearing one of their songs. You’ll hear them on TV, in movie soundtracks, on the radio. Hell, you’ll even hear them in the freaking supermarket or while you’re standing in a lift. They’re that popular.

  They started off as a little indie rock band in England, some place called Gloucester. I have no idea where that is because I’ve never been there, but the whole point is, they’re kind of like us. They produced their own album, played as many shows and festivals as they could and finally got noticed when their song, Vagabond, caught on.

  For a while, that’s all their fans wanted to hear and eventually, they refused to play it. Dan Stolle, the band’s front man and song writer, said he always hated the song and couldn’t stand playing it anymore. Right now, they’re on their tenth world tour and all reports are saying they’re playing the song again. Fans are going mad, tickets have been sold out for months. Extra shows were scheduled, and they sold out too. It’s epic, to say the least. And we’re a part of that. Us.

  I’m confident on stage, but this is next-level stuff. When I think about standing on that stage, in front of their audience, it frightens the hell out of me. What if they hate us?

  I remember going to a concert a few years ago. It was a pretty well-known band, but the supporting act was just horrible. They did this weird thing where they ran around the stage, fluttering their hands at their sides while ‘Flight Of The Bumblebees’ played. We all sat in stunned silence, wondering what the hell was going on and when they stopped, a member of the audience yelled out ‘You Suck!’

  They gave him the finger and played a song that had little musicality to it while they wailed indecipherable lyrics. When they finished, it was like they were playing to a stadium full of fucking crickets. Not one person applauded. On top of that, the same audience member yelled out, “You still suck!”

  Then the band started swearing at the audience, every one of us roared with laughter. Next thing we knew, the lead singer kicked over the microphone stand and the lot of them walked off the stage without finishing their set.

  At the time, I remember laughing. I remember re-telling the story and laughing with people again and again. Now though, I think about that band, knowing exactly how exciting it is to be the supporting act for a big-name band and feel fear creep through me. What if we become that band? What if we get booed off the stage?

  “Oi Marcus. Get your arse in the van,” Lachlan calls out. “The plane isn’t gonna wait for your day-dreaming arse.”

  One more look before I say goodbye to this old life and hello to whatever happens next. Fuck. I’m nervous. I’m never nervous. I jump in the back seat, Lachlan on one side and Naomi in the middle spot, and I blow out a charged breath.

  “All good?” she asks as I clip my seatbelt.

  I place my hand on hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah. I’m ok.” The warmth of her small hand in mine comforts me, so I don’t let go. Something about Naomi feels like home to me. I guess that’s why I’ve always been so careful with her. I didn’t want to ruin this… thing we have by getting involved.

  As our journey starts, I leave my hand on hers, and she doesn’t take hers away, holding my hand until we arrive at the airport.

  Twenty-One

  Naomi

  “Is it bad that I’m nervous already?” I ask Theo, who’s sitting in the seat next to me. I’m in the middle of the row and he’s in the aisle seat. Lucky for him, because he’s much too tall to fit comfortably against the window or the middle where I am. Some random person who is pretending we don’t exist was the lucky one to snag the window seat.

  The other three are five rows in front of us in the seats just near the emergency exit. That’s where there’s the most leg room. Theo, who is still over six feet tall, is the shortest of the group, so he volunteered to keep me company. He still looks slightly squished up though. Luckily this flight isn’t very long. We’re only travelling from Sydney to Brisbane.

  “Give it half an hour,” he says to me. “Your nerves will give way to boredom soon enough.”

  Theo pulls out his phone and takes it offline before plugging a set of AirPods into his ears. My eyes stray to his playlist as he thumbs through the songs. I notice an eclectic mix of rock, metal, and alternative music. Some of it I know, some of it I haven’t heard before. But from the looks of things, we have very similar taste.

  He stops on Aiden Price’s I Recall. It’s one of my favourite songs by an artist I’ve loved since Theo was Aramis. We’d spoken of the Irishman’s music often, loving the passion and moments of cheekiness in his lyrics. “You wanna listen?” He holds out an earpiece.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to get my ear gunk on your headphones,” I explain, causing a deep belly laugh to rumble out of him. It sends chills through me, starting at my chest and working its way in ripples until I’m sure I feel a tingle in my fingertips and toes, and I guess maybe somewhere else too…

  “I can deal with your ear gunk.” He smiles, offering it to me again. This time I accept it, plugging it into my ear as he presses play and adjusts the volume.

  “I’m still working on those lyrics,” he says when the chorus leads into the second verse.

  “I’m not surprised. We’ve been so busy, I forgot to tell you I jotted a few ideas down.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nod. “You said you wanted that second verse to say something about open windows and rain. I may have gotten a little carried away, but when we get to the hotel, I can show them to you if you like. My notebook is packed with my luggage.”

  “I’d like.” He smiles, and my chest feels like it’s turning somersaults. When we were in high school, we would share our thoughts on our compositions all the time. I can’t begin to explain how wonderful it is to get back to that.

  “I’ve missed this,” I say, resting my head on the padded chair.

  “Flying economy on a fight that charges ten bucks for a cup of coffee?”

  Giggling a little, I shake my head. “Collaborating.”

  He meets my eyes for a moment, and one side of his mouth twitches. “I still have some of our old stuff in a notebook somewhere.”

  “Yeah? I’d love to see it sometime. I’m sure it’s terrible now, but you never know.”

  “We could have a forgotten hit.”

  I smile to myself, reminiscing over our old song writing sessions. “You haven’t told Marcus you’re staying with the band, have you?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because he’s being careful about how he talks about the future. And when he looks at you, he’s sad.”

  Theo frowns like he doesn't believe me. “He’s sad?”

  I nod. “You might be s
hocked to hear it, but he has feelings. And he cares about you. It might help him if you ease his mind a little.” When I notice his brow knit a little tighter, I study his expression. “Unless it was me you lied to?”

  He turns to me quickly, his eyes flashing with offence. “I didn’t lie to you. I’m staying.”

  “Then why aren't you telling him?”

  “Because I need him to take this seriously. If he thinks I’m leaving, he’s going to party less, so he impresses more.”

  “What if he cracks under the pressure?”

  “He won’t. Marcus does whatever he needs to help Marcus. He’ll give Jim Morrison a run for his money.”

  “Jim Morrison was a drug addict and a drunk.”

  “And a fantastic performer. Just watch, and you’ll see. Marcus is a changed man when he’s on edge. If I tell him I’m staying too soon, he’ll relax and become complacent. Trust me on this.”

  “OK. But I want to go on the record in saying I don’t like this. It feels dishonest.”

  “It’s what’s best for the band.”

  “And you’re all about doing what’s best for the band.”

  “Since the day it started.”

  Obviously done with our conversation, Theo rests his head back and closes his eyes. So I remove the bud from my ear, and pull my replacement Kindle out of my bag and power it up, ready to lose myself in the world of romance for the next hour. It’s always been my favourite genre. Full of hope, and stories of redemption. I think more people should crack open a good romance more often.

  “What’s that? A tablet?” Theo asks, his eyes now open as he watches what I’m doing.