Beautiful Mistake
Page 14
“We will?” Tony asked, looking even more confused than me.
“Yeah, it’s our time; we gotta strike while we’re hot. Something will work out.” I flashed him my pearly whites, and he seemed to buy my lie.
We were pretty much screwed. We went back to my loft to try and see what we could come up with. I was planning on keeping the band there all night and withholding food and water until they could give me at least something. Just as we were fiddling around trying to find a tune we liked, my brother Sinclair called.
“Yo, big bro … we’re trying to make music here. What’s going on? Everything okay?” I was casual and cool, but usually, my brother didn’t call during the middle of the day. If he wanted to chat, he’d text me and ask me out for drinks, or over for dinner or something. He rarely ever called unless there was urgent news or an emergency of some kind.
“I just saw Melody’s video of the song she wrote about you … there’s a pretty wicked caption on it, and the song grabs you by the balls, bro. Have you seen it? She’s not only amazing, but she’s also um … very publicly breaking up with you. It’s killing Reyna and me. We want you both to come over to the house to help you work through this. And as your brother, I have to say you should have treated her better. Melody is the best woman you’ll ever know. She isn’t bullshit like some of the other girls you’ve dated. She’s not after you for your looks or your money. She was with you because she truly and deeply cares about you. I gotta say, I think you f****d this up.”
Great, just what I needed at that very moment; a lecture from my brother.
“Sinclair, I’m too busy to deal with this now. I promise I’ll listen to her song and try calling her again. She isn’t taking my calls, though, bro. I’ve tried to reach her.” I pled my case.
“I bet she’s not taking your calls. What the hell were you thinking? You kissed another girl, and put the picture on the internet? What kind of a mean-ass bastard does that? What did the poor woman ever do to you? Rumor has it she cleaned your house after a raging drug bash. At least that’s the way Reyna explains it. Do you have a better story? One that makes me less ashamed of being your brother?” I could hear the fire in Sinclair’s voice; he wasn’t at all happy with me.
Frankly, I hadn’t even looked at our website for a while. I was in a funk and trying to just get through the day. Alan did the website thing; he was our nerd. He trolled our phones for pics since the rest of us couldn’t be bothered. We gave him the unlock codes, he found cool pics of us doing cool things, looking good and voila, and we satisfied our indie die-hard fans. I pulled up the site while I listened to Sinclair berate me, and my heart fell to my stomach.
“Oh shit,” I whispered, but it was loud enough for Sinclair to hear me.
“Yeah. Oh shit. Really, Sage? When are you going to stop being such a man-whore?” I closed my eyes and let the horror just wash over me.
“She wasn’t anybody, just a kiss ... a stupid mistake. I was drunk ...” I made excuses in a dark and graveled tone.
“Well, she’s somebody now. Mizironic is blowing up Melody’s song. And there are rumors swirling about your break up and about Melody writing your hit. I guess they say all press is good press, but you’re getting dragged through manure at the moment. It isn’t Melody who’s doing the dragging … it’s ‘the people’, which makes this all much worse.”
I hated the sound of disappointment in his voice.
“I’ll fix this,” I said softly.
“You better. I love you. Sage and I know you can do better than this. Melody deserves more. I have a meeting I’ve got to go to, but come over for dinner, and we can hash this out.”
His offer was nice, and I wanted to accept it, but we had too much work to do, trying to write songs for this album we had to make.
“Sorry, Sin. I’m going to have to take a raincheck. All this bad press or good press or whatever has caused management to light a fire under our asses. I gotta work tonight,” I apologized.
“Well, it’s a good thing. I just wished it were under better circumstances. Reyna and I are here if you need to talk. Please, hear me …let her down easy. She deserves the best.”
“I’ll um …talk to you soon.” I hung up and felt everything just melt out of me.
“Hey, guys let’s break for lunch. I need some alone time and a sandwich, and I’m just gonna bang some stuff out in my room. Hal at the Deli on the corner knows me, just have him send me a bill for your order. Have him use Grubhub or something. He knows what to do. Meet back here in an hour or so, okay?” I said sounding as if my world had just exploded because it pretty much had.
“You okay?” Tony asked.
“Was it you or Alan who put those pictures on the internet?” I asked quietly.
“I did. Those girls were smokin’. They’re good for our image.” He knew he was in deep shit for doing it.
“They weren’t good for my relationship,” I seethed.
“Well, you should have thought about that before you kissed the woman. Sage, you gotta figure your shit out. My putting pics up is not the problem here. I’ll see you in an hour.” With that, Tony turned and walked out.
To Tony, Melody was just another fling. The girls I dated knew I dated lots of girls; it was almost like they were my harem or something. But … now it was all different.
.
After the loft was quiet again, I searched for Melody Chambers on YouTube. There it was on Mizironic’s channel. “Never More.” Even the title gave me chills. The still image showed Melody with her purple hair tumbled about her shoulders wearing a simple white T-shirt that showed the hint of her bra underneath and a pair of jeans that were ripped at both knees. Just the still image of her on the computer made my heart race and my flaccid cock spring into action. Ouch … I gave that all up. Well, I hadn’t given it up, I wasn’t going down that easily.
In the notes below the song, there was a sentence, written by Melody, or perhaps Mizironic as it seems she was the one who posted the song. “This is dedicated to Sage Harris. Sometimes the babe you banged to get inspiration for your song is the one who actually wrote it, and sometimes she writes another to prove it was all real.”
The comment gripped me. I almost started to tear up just reading the words.
My hands were shaking when I pressed the tiny triangle on the screen and it started. I put the speakers on in the recording room, so I could hear her voice everywhere. I almost wished I hadn’t.
From the first note, sung with such heartfelt earnest pain, I almost died. The song was about love, heartbreak, disillusionment, and it was a powerful anthem for herself and her healing. It called out for me to know my own self better and take a similar journey. God, it … was one of those songs, one that anyone, everyone could feel. It was that raw … that good. It was like she was sending me an ultimatum without knowing it. Find who I am so that both of us don’t lose me.
It was a powerful sentiment. I just let the song wash over me and take control, and I cried hard. I just sat and listened to it over and over again. The pain in her graveled voice, the notes she could reach, the sweet power in her vocal expression, the weight of the words. I was lost in it all, clamoring for breath as tears raced down my cheeks.
I thought back to the nights with her by my side. She was warm and comforting, and her body fit so nicely with mine. I fit so beautifully in her, I wanted to lodge myself in her and stay there. Her face when she came in ecstasy, her body when she shivered with delight. The moment she walked into the lobby in New York, the childish way she loved things … God, everything was like swallowing glass.
When the guys came back from lunch I was a puddle of nothing. I don’t think they quite understood what was wrong, but I couldn’t work from that place of pain, so I sent them all home, telling them, I just couldn’t … with no more explanation than that. They all left reluctantly, and I curled into a ball and just let the feelings flood me as I listened to the song on repeat, hoping to desensitize myself to the pain. I fell as
leep on top of my sheets fully dressed as the sun came up the next day.
When I got up around noon my head pounded like a billion-pound sack had dropped down from the sky and knocked me out cold. I had to call Melody and tell her what I was feeling, but I was too raw and achy. I got up, got a glass of water, and sat on my couch.
The guys came in an hour later.
“It’s all over the internet, bro … and I’m sorry,” Roger offered.
“I’m gonna just use it. The theme is all the things we miss. Together let’s just revisit, our loves, our losses our childhood … that’s gonna be our inspiration,” I announced to the guys.
I was finally energized and inspired to write something. The overall arc of the album would be all the ways we miss one another. It wouldn’t be totally dark, but it was going to be about loss and … hope.
Their eyes lit up. There was enough loss between all of us to get some really good shit. Alan had lost his sobriety, Roger his grandmother, Tony his childhood. Me … Melody. We were going to eulogize our losses and then find songs of hope to pull us out. It was gonna be a mind-blowing roller coaster.
I put my thoughts of Melody in a deep dark hole in my heart and moved on, locking her away. I didn’t even call to congratulate her on her success … I couldn’t.
Chapter 20
Melody
It had been two weeks since I put the song on YouTube. Everything was moving so fast I could hardly keep up. I hadn’t heard from Sage in all that time, so he must have taken the song at face value. Actually, the song was meant to be ironic. Like the line, “now just let me go.” It was just a call to examine where we were. But since he’d been the one to step away from what we were doing, I figured he wanted to end it. I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong. I went over it again and again in my head, and it all came down to the same thing, the night of the party and the fact that he stepped out the next day and kissed another girl. So, clearly, he was no longer in this with me.
I cried, I ate, I went out with friends, and I wrote songs that sucked. I avoided Reyna’s house for fear I’d see him there, and so Reyna, Charlynn, and I hung out at my place more often. I forgot how great it was to have girlfriends.
“I am so sorry. I feel responsible for this,” Reyna said while we were having homemade pizza and wine.
“No, I got myself into this. You did nothing. Maybe it was just the holidays and all the hype about singing with Mizironic. We were just so on fire for one another. I made a bad judgment call.” I was definitely blaming myself for this.
“You didn’t know Sage was a freak,” Charlynn added, getting a little tipsy on the wine.
“Well, he was always artistic, but so is Mel. I figured they’d be a good fit. Thank God I didn’t set the two of you up. I just didn’t stop you when I should have I guess,” Reyna said.
“No, Rey, I wouldn’t have listened to you if you did. I swear.” I took another slice of pizza, not even caring that I’d already had two.
Reyna shook her head. “Sinclair did mention he’d dappled in drugs, but I didn’t know he was into them so badly.”
“I don’t know if he’s that into drugs; maybe I just overreacted.”
They both looked at me with scowls on their faces.
Okay, so I hadn’t overreacted; it was exactly as bad as I thought it was. I just didn’t want to believe it. I was lucky to have my girlfriends and my career as a distraction from the feelings of hurt and betrayal. I hated to admit it, but I thought Sage might have been “the one.” I was devastated to accept the fact that he was just another guy who didn’t measure up.
During our impromptu pizza party, I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize, and I answered it. Desperate much? I never answered the unknown numbers. I was disappointed to discover it wasn’t Sage on the other end. I had this fantasy that he’d use another number, so I’d finally picked up the phone.
The person introduced themselves as a friend of Stephanie’s. At first, the name didn’t ring a bell until I remembered Mizironic was Stephanie.
“Yes, hi. I’m Melody Chambers,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too eager.
“I’m Marcus Dwight. I loved your song. I also saw you play the New Year’s Eve gig, and I think you’ve got a lot of potentials. I work with Stephanie’s management firm. I’m not her manager, but I work with him. Anyway, I’d like to have you come in for a meeting to discuss representation if you’re interested.”
Was this really happening? I was about to fall over.
The girls both leaned forward with shocked and expectant looks on their faces.
“Yes, yes. Sure.” My eyes went big trying to convey how awesome the call was. “When do you want me to come in?” I tried so hard to keep my cool.
“Tomorrow afternoon, say around three o’clock. Does that work for you?”
Holy shit, any time of day would work for me. I agreed to the time and could barely speak I was so excited. I told the girls and was relieved we had something other than Sage to discuss.
The next day I met with Marcus and we talked about putting some songs together for an album. He had also already submitted my YouTube video to iFm’s Battle of the Bands contest for independent artists. The first round was happening the following week, and all I had to do was sing one song. Of course, I’d sing “Never More.”
I spent the whole week rehearsing the song, doing yoga, meditating, and eating healthy to get my mind and body ready for my big opportunity. I called Mizironic, who I finally started calling Stephanie and shared the good news. Since she said she already knew this was going to happen, she wasn’t at all surprised. I almost didn’t think about Sage. Almost … instead of thinking of him every waking minute of the day. I thought of him most of the time.
I was crazy. How could I still care about a guy who’d dumped me so hard? I trolled his webpage, and he wasn’t on it that much. The only pics of him were with the band, and there were tons of live clips of him singing Ever After. I gave him that song, and he was really using it. I hated thinking back to the night I wrote it and our trip to New York and all the insane fun we’d had. But that was just it, it was insane fun. Other than knowing him for a few years at parties and gatherings, I didn’t really know him at all.
In the first round of Battle of the Bands, twenty bands would compete against each other and five would be selected to move to the final competition where they would play their song for a twenty thousand dollar prize and a recording contract. As I already had a possible contract in the works, I wasn’t so interested in the prize, though the money would be amazing. What I wanted was the exposure. People didn’t usually scour the internet looking for new music, but they did listen to the Battle of the Bands.
I wasn’t nervous. This was my jam, and I was so ready to nail it … until I saw the list of contestants and our play order. My stomach bottomed out, my mouth went completely dry, and my heart stopped beating. Number thirteen on the list was The Grind Revolution.
I suddenly wanted to die. I was number fifteen. They gave us each a slot. In order to compete, we had to be on deck two bands before our own, so there was going to be no avoiding him. This first round was a private competition; only the judges saw the first twenty bands. It was more of an audition than a competition. Even if I had wanted to wear a hoodie and hide in a dark corner, he would know I was there. My name was right there, printed in black and white. I would have to face this. I decided to go to the back of the theater and just meditate. I just told myself I was strong, and I could get through anything.
I didn’t see him all morning. The first ten bands completed their sets, and he wasn’t there. I was actually feeling quite peaceful until they called band number eleven up to the stage.
“Okay, number eleven is Lucy in the Sky, with Greg Stathopolous. And do we have Grind Revolution in the house?” The stage manager looked around the auditorium for a sign from the band.
“Yo,” Tony, one of Sage’s bandmates called out, and that’s when I saw him.
They were getting as much, if not more, internet success than I was with Ever After, so maybe being the anti-hero, grungy, grimy, love song crooner was his new black. Despite his off-putting appearance, my attraction for him was revved all the way back up to torquing. Why? Was I some sort of slave to punishment? Didn’t I know better than to be attracted to the man who broke my heart—no, annihilated it? I took a deep breath. Why did he have me under such a powerful spell? I looked away from him, I had to, or all would be lost. It was hard, but I managed not to stare at him until it was time for Grind Revolution to sing their song.
“Hello. This is “Ever After,” Sage said into the mic, standing in front of the band with his guitar in his hand.
It was like a knife had pierced my heart. I was going to have to sit through this, no matter how painful. I hated that I was still infatuated with him. I hated that he was singing our song. MY SONG. I hated that I loved him. Damn it!
“Okay, we have Grind Revolution. Do you have Melody Chambers in the house?” the stage manager asked.
I stood up, “I’m here!” I raised my hand and yelled from the back.
A spotlight shone on me, and I put my hand up against its glare. Sage’s whole demeanor changed the minute he saw me. I didn’t look much different. I had dyed my hair a brighter purple and had it styled. I was also foolishly wearing an outfit he had bought for me in New York, add a big pair of hoop earrings and a choker necklace, and I looked really hot. But of course, I was looking hot for the competition, not for him.