by BWWM Club
*****
Tristan’s jaw ticked as he clenched it together, so hard he thought he’d break a tooth. What was she doing? It was bad enough she showed up in that tight skirt and skimpy top and all he could think about the whole morning was peeling it off of her, but now she was getting coy with him?
Running a hand through his hair he pushed the door to the studio opened. Why was he even here? He knew why. Part of it had to do with wanting to see Mel, even though he knew it was a bad idea. He couldn’t get involved with her, not again. It would be messy, it would end badly. The other part was that he wanted to make sure they did her album justice. Mel’s music was good, really good, and she deserved to receive everything she could as a result of it; Billboard Top 100, Grammy’s, you name it, she should have it all. That wasn’t just his lust for her talking, Mel was the most talented person they'd signed in a long time.
Tristan sat down in the corner and watched Mel float into the room. Her long dark hair lay against her back in waves and her caramel colored skin shone with youth and health. How could he not want her? Every man in the damn room wanted her and that thought alone made Tristan grit his teeth harder.
For the next two hours they went over her tracks, song by song, making sure they were in the proper order, making sure the sound was appropriate and they didn’t have to re-record it. Tristan interrupted a few times to make sure everything was going the way he expected.
After a while it became evident that he wasn’t needed, but he couldn’t peel himself away from the room. He had work piling up all day and his secretary was out for blood but Tristan couldn’t leave the room. The reason why disturbed him more than it should. Would this be the last time he saw Mel and spoke to her? He broke it off with her to stop these feelings from growing but no matter what he did he couldn’t get Mel off of his mind.
*****
The next few weeks flew by and Mel saw Tristan very little in that time. She was so busy with the rest of the work for her album and at the bar she barely noticed, but if she was being honest, she noticed.
Every night she went to bed alone and woke up in her tiny studio apartment, she remembered waking up next to Tristan and it hurt. She wanted him back, and she could tell by the way he looked at her and the way he acted around her that she wasn’t wrong about him that day in the studio. Something was there, he wasn’t as cold and heartless as he seemed.
Smiling, Mel finished brushing her teeth, the planning for her release party, which was in two days, was that day and she had to meet with the PR people at the bar where it was going to be held. If she wanted to get Tristan back, to get him to admit that he felt about her the way she felt about him, she would have to be smart. But that was alright, Mel was formulating a plan.
Chapter 9
“And this is the stage where you will perform a few songs from your album,” The PR woman, Janice, gestured towards the stage before turning to walk back towards the exit.
Mel looked around. It was a nice size place; upscale, unlike the place she worked for. The lighting was dim, but she was still able to see, there was dark wood and plush pillowed seating with deep purples and reds. It felt like a place you would take your friends for a night out to relax and listen to music. The perfect place for Mel to have her album release party.
She turned to Janice, a question on her mind. “Would I be able to play a song that wasn’t on the album?”
Janice looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t see why not. Maybe a teaser for a future album. If the song is good it will generate more publicity. Why not?!”
Mel nodded in agreement. Her plan was coming together. She wasn’t going to let Tristan walk away without a fight.
*****
Mel tapped the paper with her pencil once more, unable to concentrate. She was thinking too much into it, the song writing process had never been so difficult for her. Frowning she stood, stretching the kinks in her back by raising her arms over her head and reaching up. Moving into her tiny kitchen she glanced at the microwave. It was past midnight. She had been sitting in her chair for three hours agonizing over this song. It was no wonder her back was stiff. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, Mel walked back to the desk chair. Shaking her head she turned and sat on her bed. She had enough of the chair for one night. Maybe if she lay down for a bit the song would come to her.
Mel woke up with a start, her room bathed in shadows. How long had she slept? Wasn’t the light on when she laid down? Glancing at her cell phone on the bedside table, Mel realized it was four in the morning. She sat up looking around, thoughts of Tristan running through her head; his pitch black hair and icy blue eyes. Mel smiled as it suddenly came to her. She jumped up, switching the desk lamp back on and snagged the pencil from where it had rolled to the floor. She knew exactly the words to write in her song for Tristan.
*****
Tristan watched the light go on in the window of Mel’s apartment. He felt like a stalker waiting in the shadows on the street next to where her building was. It didn’t matter, he had to see how she was doing. Tristan wanted to lie, even to himself, about how he was doing since he parted ways with Mel, but instead he admitted for once that he felt like shit. Being lonely and angry were never a good combination and Tristan had drank way more than he’d like to admit in the last few weeks. Tonight he decided he would see Mel, see how she was doing, if she was as miserable as he was.
Surprisingly the super lived on the first floor and he didn’t hesitate to give Tristan a key to the apartment. Maybe it was his commanding presence or the fact that he looked like he had money. Whatever it was he had the key to Mel’s apartment, as stalker like as it may seem, and he was going to see how she was doing. It was well after midnight and he figured, even though a light shined from the window, that Mel would be asleep.
He listened outside of her door for a minute but didn’t hear any movement. As quietly as possible he opened the door, the squeaky hinges almost giving him away. Gritting his teeth at the sound Tristan peeked into the apartment. It was a studio so he could see the whole apartment, and Mel lay clutching an unopened bottled of water sideways on the bed. Her breathing was steady and he could tell that she was asleep. Moving slowly so as not to creak the old floorboards, Tristan moved towards the bed. He gently removed the water bottle, setting it on the desk next to the bed, switching off the lamp and pulled the comforter back enough to cover Mel against the air conditioned chill. He watched her for a moment, her brow furrowed in sleep, giving away her emotions even while unconscious. His heart ached, but he knew this would be the last time he saw her. Pressing a light kiss to her mouth, the creepy stalker feeling making him want to flee, Tristan backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
*****
The next morning Mel bounced around her tiny apartment with a joy she hadn’t felt in over a month, but she also felt extreme anxiety at the prospect of Tristan rejecting her.
Today was the day her album was released. That and the knowledge of what she had planned for her release party had her hopping about with nervous energy. The PR company had a stylist choose a few outfits for Mel to preview for the event. After she had her coffee and some toast, she pulled open the closet to choose one of the three outfits to wear. They had wanted her to choose in the stylist’s office; to try them all on and parade around for everyone to choose. Mel told them no, chose three outfits she liked and brought them home to decide. She modeled each outfit before her full length mirror. One was a long, flowy maxi dress in red. It was Mel’s style but she didn’t like the color. The next one was a mini skirt and flowy top. That one looked even worse. Sighing, she tried on the last outfit; dark skinny jeans and a silver sequined tank top. She was pleasantly surprised and decided this was the outfit she would wear. After finding a pair of black stilettos and a matching bag inside of her tiny closet, Mel was ready for tonight. Now she just had several hours to kill while the butterflies assaulted her belly.
*****
Tristan looked around the bar with surp
rise. It was a nice place. A little trendier than he cared for but not a dive like he expected. Janice told him that the vibe of a bar fit Mel’s folksy image and he had to agree with her. If they had the party at a club it just wouldn’t be Mel. Shaking his head at the way images of her made him feel, Tristan walked back to the door where Janice waited for him.
“What do you think?” She asked, her voice high and perky. Tristan resisted the urge to wince.
“It’s not what I expected. I think it’s perfect for Ms. Fairbank’s release party.”
Janice nodded. “Will you be attending?”
Tristan didn’t answer right away because he didn’t know the answer. He went back and forth about whether he should attend or not after his lapse-in-judgement-stalker moment last night. He wanted to see Mel and he wanted to support her album but he wasn’t so sure he could take much more of seeing her and not being with her.
“I’ve never seen you miss one yet,” Janice’s perky response pierced his skull.
She had him there. It would look odd if he didn’t show up, considering he was always there to show support for his talent.
“Of course I’ll be there.” He snapped, as if Janice were insinuating something ridiculous. When in reality he was just feeling guilty for thinking of bowing out because of his history with Mel.
Tristan exchanged goodbyes with Janice and exited the building. Tonight would be the last time he saw Mel in relation to her album and he hoped he could make it through the party without doing something stupid.
*****
Mel shook the nerves from her hands and looked around at the crowd. He wasn’t coming. The butterflies leaping about in her gut made her want to vomit. It wasn’t the mild stage fright that was making her this way, she’d performed at many open mic nights before, it was the fact that Tristan wasn’t there yet. If he was even coming. They were about to start her performance and he wasn’t coming. She glanced out at the crowd again as she sat down on the stool to tune her guitar. Tristan had to come; he had to be there when she sang her song.
Mel watched from where she was perched on the small stage as people streamed in through the open double doors across the room. Not one of them was Tristan. This was bad and Mel could feel her throat getting tight. No, she couldn’t lose it. All of these people came to support her on her special night. She should be happy and grateful, not sitting on stage about to lose her shit. Taking a deep breath she continued to tune her guitar, making sure that she had everything exactly the right way for when her performance started. She would be alone on stage; only the lights and her guitar to accompany her. This was how she liked it though. She knew once she began to sing nothing else would matter and the room and the crowd would fade away, just like it did every time she was in the studio or had done a performance before her recording deal.
“Hey! How’re you holding up?” Blake bounded up onto the stage, her red curls bouncing behind her as she hopped up.
Mel smiled; she was relieved to see Blake was there to support her. Blake was her family, her only family. “I’m alright.” Blake raised her eyebrows at Mel. “Fine. I’m a bit nervous. There are a lot of people here.” Mel tried to pretend that the crowd was freaking her out. She couldn’t tell Blake about her plan in case Tristan didn’t show. She would pity her. Mel had been given enough pity to fill a swimming pool.
“The show will start in five minutes. If everyone could take their seats as quickly as possible that would make for an easier transition.” Janice announced, appearing from nowhere with a microphone.
Blake shot Mel a look and Mel rolled her eyes. Janice was a bit perky and cheery, not at all like Mel with her tendency to be dark and gloomy. She didn’t hate Janice, she was just a bit annoying.
Over the next five minutes she finished getting organized and then stepped down to the bar to get some water to set next to her on stage. Her throat tended to get dry while she performed live. Glass in hand she turned, bumping right into Tristan and sloshing water all over the two of them.
“Oh no!” Mel exclaimed, backing up as fast as she could.
It was clear that Tristan’s shirt received the brunt of the collision and she stifled a laugh at the way his face contorted with irritation.
“I’ll get you some paper towels.” Mel turned and ran behind the bar, grabbing a handful of paper towels before running back to where Tristan stood, water dripping from his shirt.
She began to wipe his shirt, her hands brushing over his tight abdomen and chest, covered only by a thin dress shirt. Mel’s body began to heat with the content and under his shirt Tristan’s chest moved in and out as if he were panting. This wasn’t how Mel wanted to get Tristan back, but his reaction to her touching him was enough to let her know he still wanted her.
Seconds later he snatched the paper towels from her hand, not saying anything but giving her a sullen look. He clearly didn’t like the way she made him feel. That worried Mel but she pushed the thought back.
Just as Mel was climbing back onto the stage Janice called for everyone to take their seats as someone lowered the lights. Mel hopped onto the stool, forgetting all about the water. She lifted the guitar to her lap, her fingers poised over the strings and ready to play. There was too much riding on this performance and Mel could only trust that it would all work out in the end.
*****
Tristan watched Mel sing, the words floating over him. He loved her music, her voice. She sounded like an angel even though her lyrics were quite dark. Watching her sing may have been the very thing that made him realize he was in love with her, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself then.
The last few weeks he spent without Mel in his life were the loneliest weeks he’d ever experienced. That was a lot coming from an orphan with no family. Sighing, Tristan ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. He let Mel’s words about death and loneliness wash over him, the same thoughts that were in his head about his parent’s abandonment. Mel understood, on some level she was also alone and they shared a common history. Tristan suddenly wondered why Mel was alone. He looked around the room. Most of the people there were people the PR firm and the record company recruited to come one way or another. Mel’s friend Blake was there, but other than that he didn’t see anyone in the audience who was supporting her. It was then that Tristan understood the words she screamed at him the last day they were together. Mel was alone just as he was. Out of the blue Tristan made up his mind about what to do regarding his feelings for Mel, and his decision wasn’t one that he had expected.
*****
The world drifted away as Mel sang, her voice lifting to the rafters and carrying beyond the crowd. Her heart beat steadily to the melody of the guitar as the music drifted out over the audience. This was where Mel felt most at home, at peace. This was where Mel belonged. Everything else faded away as Mel’s voice climbed higher and higher. She felt as if she were hovering over the crowded room watching herself from above. Slowly she floated back down as the last song she was to sing from her album faded out. She looked out at the crowd and smiled, the applause roaring inside of the small building. The lights came up and Mel looked around, locating Tristan easily in the crowd. He had a strange look on his face, it appeared to be fear, but Mel wasn’t sure she ever saw Tristan afraid before so maybe she was wrong.
“The last song I’m going to sing is something I wrote just for the occasion.” Mel cleared her throat, wishing she had the water she spilled, and picked her guitar back up, resting it on her knee.
The lights dimmed again, the spotlight shining in her face. She lost sight of Tristan but knew the relative area where he stood in front of her. Looking in that direction she began playing, her stomach rioting with butterflies. It was now or never. If she chickened out and didn’t play the song for him, she’d regret it and always wonder what could have happened. Taking a deep breath she began to sing.
We have our own stories, you and I
Mine ends with death, yours with goodbye
> You walked away to save yourself
But now I can’t think of anyone else
The night it grips me with its horns
Waking with screams of pain and scorn
I never knew it could be like this
Your every touch fills me with such bliss
Where will it end, for you and me
I cannot breathe, I cannot see
To touch you, to feel your pain
It falls around me like hot burning rain
We have our own stories, you and I
Mine ends with death, yours with goodbye
Tomorrow we will both be free
But is that what is meant to be
The melody of Mel’s acoustic guitar faded away, a single tear falling onto the polished wood. She wondered if Tristan heard the message and understood.
*****
Tristan listened, his eyes closed, as Mel sang the new song she wrote. Initially he thought she wrote a new song to bolster publicity for a second album. But as she sang, her beautiful voice washing over him, finding its way inside of his heart, he realized she wrote the song for him. Tristan’s chest ached with the message she was sending him. It was up to him. She was telling him that she loved him, that she wanted to be with him and that the final decision was his choice.
After running into Mel before her show, literally, Tristan had already made a choice. He stood in stunned silence for the rest of her performance, keeping his features neutral. The last note sounded and the lights rose. His eyes went to Mel’s face and he watched a single tear fall down and splash against her guitar. Her expressive face gave it all away. Her uncertainty, her anguish and above all her love for him. Tristan’s chest clenched with what he had to do. It was only right.
Mel set her guitar down, turning her back to the crowd for a moment and pretending to fiddle with it in the new case. Tristan knew she was collecting herself. When she turned back the emotion from earlier had vanished. Spending time with him had helped her learn how to control her expressions better he figured. Tristan wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. His eyes followed her as she stepped from the stage and headed towards the bar where her friend Blake stood. The women embraced and Tristan hung back for a moment longer before making his way through the crowd to where she stood. When he reached her, Mel’s eyes widened with uncertainty.