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.
Chapter 5
Naomi
“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. Marcus 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 always 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 p
ain. “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 just 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.
Chapter 6
Theo
My brother is a total fucking jerk. He’s asking her to join our band!? Our Band! Not his band. Ours. Fucking ours! I don’t want her there – not her. The last time I saw her, I found her in bed with my brother, totally off her face. I don’t want someone like her in our band. Especially not after the last girl we allowed to join.
When we originally formed Matiari, we had a girl on bass. I didn’t really know her that well, Marcus was the one who recruited her. It just ended up as a fucking disaster because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and fucked her up so badly, that she lost her shit. Then I had to be the bad guy and kick her out. I just don’t need Marcus bringing another one of his conquests into our work space. He needs to keep that shit to himself.
I can tell you now, that if Naomi joins, it will be an absolute fucking disaster. Believe me when I say - Naomi Prendergast cannot be trusted. Especially not with my brother’s influence.
Jesus, look at him over there with that groupie draped all over him. It’s so fucking cliché. Sometimes I swear he’s only in this for the pussy, and if he wasn’t so damned talented, and if he wasn’t my blood – I don’t think I could stand being in a band with him.
Right now, I just want to go home. If it wasn’t for that fact that we have to be seen to make an effort socially at these things, I’d be gone already. I’m that pissed off with him and I can’t talk to him about it in front of everyone.
My eyes drift over to Naomi just in time to see her reaction when she sees Marcus and his current screw. Her features fall, and change in a way that is enough to give me hope she won’t show up to rehearsal. Her face is saying she’s not interested in his shit.
I hope that’s true, because I’m not interested in hers.
Surreptitiously, I watch her talk with her friends, Erica and Amy. Those two are always hanging around, they’ve already slept with every member of the band, so I don’t know why they’re still here – maybe they just like doing the rounds… I don’t get girls like that. I mean, how is that a life? Following bands around, hopping into bed with a bunch of guys, who aren’t even interested in you beyond the fact that you’re willing to spread your legs. Where is their self-respect? What the hell do they get out of it? I just don’t understand it.
I continue to observe them as Naomi seems to convince them that it’s time to leave. I can see that Amy would rather stay, but they follow Naomi out, causing relief to wash over me now that she’s gone.
I stare at the door for a while after she leaves. Bullshit she doesn’t remember me. She was a couple of years below me at school, but she knows who I am. I can see it in her eyes – she knows me. I’m sure she does.
“You were great tonight,” a female voice says from beside me, drawing my attention away from the vacant space where Naomi was.
It belongs to a bottle blonde with far too much makeup on. She slides her hand over my arm, like she’s making love to the curve of my muscle as she gives me that
‘fuck me now’ look that’s so easy to give in to. She mustn’t realise I’m the drummer, or she wouldn’t bother. No one ever bothers to go for the drummer – it’s exactly why I chose it.
“Not interested sweetheart,” I say, as I gently push her aside and head towards the door. The main gig is over now, so I can shake their hands, thank them for letting us support and go the fuck home. I love the music. But I hate this party shit.
Chapter 7
Naomi
“Are you going?” Stephanie asks when I phone her the next day to tell her who I saw.
“No, I don’t think so. Erica and Amy think I’m crazy, but I don’t think I can have Marcus Bailey back in my life again. He’s lethal to women.”
“It’s not like you were ever in a relationship with him though,” she reasons.
“Yes, but I slept with him AND I don’t even remember sleeping with him. That’s what’s uncomfortable! It means that he’s seen me naked, but I have no recollection of seeing him.”
“Well, he obviously doesn’t mind.”
“Very funny. Who cares what he thinks. I mind.”
“So you’re going to turn down a chance to get in on the ground floor of a band that looks like it’s going places, just because some guy saw you naked? Is bar tending really that fun?” she points out.
I huff out my breath. “I really thought at least you would understand Steph. You know how embarrassed I was back then.”
“Yeah I do, and I still think that you overreacted then too.”
“He slept with me when I was intoxicated, and then tried to give me the ‘we’re just friends speech’. I don’t think I overreacted.”
“Fine. But you’re over reacting now. You can do this Nomes. It will be good for you.”
Sighing, I say good bye and disconnect the call, spinning his business card around in my fingers thoughtfully as I do.
A Beautiful Melody Page 3