“Alex, thank you for helping us out,” she said, standing behind me so I couldn’t see her face. Her voice was thin and stretched out, like when you have to thank your auntie for giving you a hideous sweater for Christmas.
When I turned to respond, she’d gone.
Dee
As much as I hated Alex, I had to admit it was jolly decent having a good rehearsal space. Even after a few sessions, we’d improved a ton. My playing had become more confident but, more importantly, we were starting to work together as a team. We could anticipate what each other was going to do. Our timing just worked at a higher level.
We’d be headlining now, just on a Wednesday night but that was so much better. It seemed unfair to me that we’d got ahead so quickly.
“Rock’s all about unfair,” said Pete. “Do you think it’s fair that some guys hammer away at this for literally decades and get nowhere, while a bunch of kids can become overnight sensations? Hell yeah, because it’s all about talent and luck and a million other things. Not what’s fair.”
He was right but, with us, it wasn’t talent or luck or even hard work. It was a pay-off to help Alex with his guilty conscience.
I’d started work on a new song. All our material up until now had been taken from Jake’s notes. I’d pieced together things, filled them out, even written verses, but they’d all originated from him.
I wanted to write something new, something that was all me. I had a few ideas but I couldn’t get it started. Maybe I just lacked the skills to write a song from scratch, maybe the things I wanted to say overwhelmed me. Either way, this wasn’t happening.
I thought about playing the few bits and pieces I’d strung together to the band but I didn’t even have enough to go on to get their input. A few chords, a few words, that was all. I was worried Pete would laugh at me. Surely writing a song couldn’t be that difficult. It was just that the things I wanted to say didn’t come out right. I’d keep it to myself until I had something concrete.
Instead, we worked on some of the older material, making sure the set would be solid when we played.
Ferdie interrupted a few times with suggestions, bits and pieces we could mix up.
“The songs are fine as they are,” Pete said. “We don’t need to slow things down or speed them up.”
“No, let’s try it. If it doesn’t work, we can play it the old way.”
Pete was so resistant to change. It wasn’t like anything was written in stone. Ferdie and I both liked to experiment, to see if things could be improved. Pete hated that. And that was another reason I didn’t want to mention my song.
I wanted to rehearse Jake’s unfinished song. The one we’d tried to play the other night. It haunted me. When I played it, it seemed like I could get inside Jake’s mind in those last days.
“Best we don’t,” Pete said.
“We can play it if we want,” I said. “Alex can’t control us.”
“Still, we’re obligated to him. He’s helping us out, and I don’t care what his motivation is. It’s a step up the ladder and we can climb all the way.”
I didn’t want to push it. We could play it some other time. I had no idea why that song, in particular, got Alex so riled up. It was a simple love song, one among many Jake had written. Maybe he’d written it about some girl, a girl that Alex liked too. They’d never talked about things like that in front of me and I’d not ever wanted to consider what Alex did with other girls. Even now, the thought that Alex would react so strongly over a song about some chick twisted my insides a little.
We were about to wrap up rehearsal when we heard voices. Alex and his band had come in.
“I guess you’re going to hang out with your buddy, Alex, now,” I said to Pete.
Normally, Pete brushed off things like that but this time he swung around to me, his expression black with anger.
“I’ve had enough, Dee. Alex and I were friends before any of this happened. We were in a band together. Remember that.”
I gulped. Pete had been funny lately. While my hatred for Alex burned like a massive bonfire, with fuel constantly added, Pete’s was like a dying ember. I wasn’t sure how to react. I just knew that, when the time came to take Alex down, I’d not get Pete involved.
“Yeah? Well, Pete, he killed my brother too. Remember that.”
“It was an accident. Sure, he did a stupid thing but everyone does stupid things when they’re young. If he’d made it home in one piece, if the car hadn’t gone over that bank, you’d still be trailing Alex around like a gooey-eyed kid.”
I had a million answers to that but Pete had left. I could see him chatting to Alex in the break room so I took my time packing up my gear, hoping Alex would go into the other rehearsal room and I could escape without having to talk to him. I’d done the right thing and thanked him for his help but that was as far as it’d go.
It wasn’t going to be that easy, though. Alex lingered. I ran into the toilet and waited for the voices to shut up. When I heard Alex tuning his guitar, I figured the coast was clear.
When I came out, there was a small bag sitting on top of my guitar case. I had no idea where it came from. It wasn’t mine. I picked it up and looked inside.
Jelly beans. I put my finger in and mixed them around. All the black ones had been removed. That sickly sweet smell took me back.
Alex turning up for rehearsal in our garage, throwing something at me.
“This is for you, Dee Cakes,” he’d said.
I opened the bag — jellybeans — and gave him a huge smile, tempted to throw my arms around his neck. But then, I was always tempted to do that.
“I ate the black ones,” he said. “Cos I know you hate them.”
Of course I did. Black jelly beans are gross.
I didn’t eat them. I kept them, arranged in colour-ordered rows on my desk. I arranged them into a big heart, then spelt out “Alex” in yellow and blue. About three days later, I had a massive ant plague in my room. My jellybeans were ruined and Mum yelled at me for keeping them on my desk. I cried. I’d wanted to keep those jellybeans forever.
I don’t know if Jake said anything to Alex or if he just thought of it himself, but every time he came over to rehearse after that, he’d make sure he had a bag of jelly beans for me. Always with the black ones taken out.
As much as I hated black jelly beans, I figured if Alex had eaten them, I could grow to love the taste of black jelly bean kisses.
Well, I wasn’t a kid anymore. There was a rubbish bin in the corner, overflowing with Coke cans and pizza boxes. I took aim, determined to prove I couldn’t be won over with a lousy packet of candy, but I couldn’t do it. My arm wouldn’t obey the instructions from my brain.
What did it matter anyway? I put them in my jacket pocket and left.
Alex
The nightmares had started again. I’d thought that time was long past but I’d woken up in a cold sweat, not sure where I was. I groped around for the light switch and got out of bed. Even awake, the terror clung to the edges, making me feel uneasy. I jumped in the shower, trying to wash off the black thoughts, and then grabbed a beer out of the fridge and thought about watching a movie.
I couldn’t settle, though. Every movie bored me. I went out to the balcony. It was pitch black outside. Lights glowed around the city. The last revellers wandered the streets. Too early to go out for coffee, too late to go for drinks. A good time for songwriting. I might as well put this nervous energy to use.
I’d left my notebook at the rehearsal studio so I decided to walk down there to get it. Better to be moving anyway. The air was a bit chilly but a brisk walk would fix that. That cafe might be open on my way back and I’d grab a coffee then.
I hadn’t seen Dee for a few days. She’d not come into the bar and she must’ve organised their rehearsal time so we didn’t overlap. Not that I was looking for her or anything. I just wondered how she was getting on. They’d be playing at the club soon and I couldn’t wait to see them back on stage.
I’d had an argument with Sally. She didn’t want to clear the roster to put Dee’s band on.
“I’ve set everything up for these bands to play. You can’t just wipe that out because you have a thing for some girl.”
“I can and I will. Don’t forget who pays your salary.”
I glared at her until she backed down. She snorted at me though and flounced back to her office. It was the first time she’d ever acted anything but lovey-dovey with me.
Of course I’d clear the roster for Dee’s band. It was more than guilt and, even though I could see the potential they held, there was something else too. It was as though I’d broken an agreement with Jake and now I could make up for it. I guess that was partly guilt but it was also an unspoken thing between us. He was gone and I was left to look out for his sister.
Anyway, I could afford to be generous with them.
If she’d let me, I ‘d do even more to help, but Dee didn’t want my money, that much was clear. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. She didn’t want my help and she didn’t want me.
It was a hard fact to face but, when you boiled it all down, the only thing I had to offer her was money. I could think of nothing else I had in me that would help her.
When I got to the studio, there was a light on. One of the guys must’ve forgotten to turn it off. I’d hired the place out permanently so, other than us, it was just Dee’s band that rehearsed there. I’d given Pete a key so they could come and go as they pleased.
When I got through the door though, I heard someone playing guitar. Playing a few notes, then stopping and replaying. The studio had two rehearsal rooms, with a bathroom between them. A long, thin room with a table and chairs and a sink ran the length of the space. There was a kettle and some coffee mugs, which I never used. The two rehearsal rooms weren’t as soundproof as they could be and it’d be hell with two bands rehearsing at the same time. There were much more luxurious places around but this studio was close to my apartment and the club. The convenience made up for the lack of facilities.
I looked into the first rehearsal room and saw Dee sitting on the floor with her guitar. She didn’t look up; she hadn’t heard me come in.
I got my notebook from the other room without turning the light on. I didn’t want to disturb her.
As she played, she made grunts of frustration. She’d go over and over the same bit, making changes each time. I didn’t leave. I wasn’t sure what to do, though. I turned on the light so she’d know someone else was in the place, then put the kettle on.
If she was getting stuck on something, a cup of tea might help, and it was one little thing I could do for her that didn’t cost money. I searched through the cupboard for the two best-looking cups and found a couple that were uncracked. There were some tea bags and sugar in a container. The tea bags looked like they’d been there for a long time, the print on the tags was even faded, but tea bags don’t go off, do they? The sugar was clumped, so I smashed it with the handle of the plastic spoon I’d found.
I tried to make a bit of noise while I worked so I didn’t scare the shit out of her.
As I poured the boiling water into the cups, I wondered if I’d end up with it thrown in my face. If I added some cold water to cool it down, I might be safer than having it boiling hot.
I knocked on the rehearsal room door.
“What the fuck?” Dee dropped her guitar and glared at me like she wanted to kill me.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
She shook her head.
“I made you a cup of tea.” I grabbed the cups off the table and took one over to her, then hovered around, unsure of whether I should leave her alone. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to look at me.
“Sit down,” she said, moving some of the papers.
The carpet looked filthy but I figured I’d risk it, since she was making a tiny step toward me.
“What are you doing?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. I didn’t think she’d tell me much more but, after a while of staring at a blank sheet of paper, she turned to me.
“How do you start?” she asked.
“Start?”
“Writing a song. It’s all perfect up here.” She tapped her head. “But something stops it from coming out.”
I looked at the papers around her. Most of them had been scrunched up, then flattened out again.
“You’ve written songs before though?”
As she shook her head, the braid of her hair thumped against her shoulders. She looked weary but she bit on her little finger in that way she had.
“Not really. Not from scratch. I took Jake’s songs, or his parts of songs anyway, and went from there. It’s the getting started that is thwarting me.”
“You’re trying too hard. You have this image in your head of the perfect song and everything you do is going to fall short. The gap between what you want to do and what you can do is where you’re being defeated.”
“That’s the truth, but how do I fix that?”
She sat with her legs folded, her fingers twisted in her hair. I wondered what I could do to help.
“Will you let me help?”
She snorted.
“Forget about your hate and all those emotions you have stored up against me. Stop thinking of me as the Alex you knew growing up.” I picked up one of the papers. “It looks like you’ve drained yourself, trying to do this. Maybe if you talk it out with me, you’ll work out what you want to say.”
Rather than answer, she bit harder on her finger.
“Come on. No funny business, nothing like that. Just a truce for an hour or two, and then you can go back to hating me and sticking pins into that voodoo doll you have of me, or whatever it is you do.”
“Hey, I don’t have a voodoo doll…”
“Shit, I’ve put ideas in your head!”
That actually made the corners of her mouth curl up a little.
“Okay.”
“You’ll do it?” I couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed. I was way too excited about that “okay”. What the hell was she doing to me?
“Yeah, but you can take me out for coffee because this is the worst cup of tea I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
Dee
I told myself I was only doing this to get closer to Alex so I could better destroy him, but that wasn’t totally true. The bastard was being totally charming, and I caught myself smiling at things he said more than I liked. When he was with me, acting like that, it became harder to see him as the enemy. He was the Alex I’d fallen for as a kid. Not even that, he was the Alex of my girlhood dreams. The perfect Alex I’d imagined in every fantasy.
First, we went for breakfast, a huge breakfast with the most perfect pancakes, like fluffy clouds with a caramelised top. They were one of the best things I’d ever eaten. Alex sat opposite me eating some hipster Paleo shit. I mocked his perfectly healthy breakfast.
“Ha, don’t you wish you were young and could eat what you wanted still?” I said.
He twisted his mouth and didn’t answer. But his eyes sparkled. I turned my head away because I didn’t want him mushing up my thoughts with those eyes. I hated Alex. Alex was the enemy. Why did I even have to keep reminding myself of that?
I ordered more coffee. I’d not slept all night and my head felt fuzzy. If I was going to spend time with Alex, I’d need to be awake and have my wits about me.
Once the dishes had been cleared away, Alex got my notes and spread them out on the table.
“What exactly are you trying to do with this song? What kind of mood?”
I wasn’t sure that I wanted to discuss that with him. It seemed awfully personal. I mean, I wanted this song to scrape the contents of my heart. I guess though, once I’d written it and had to perform it, those feelings would be public anyway. It was just harder talking about them one-on-one with Alex.
“I want to capture that feeling of loss. That blankness. Being at the centre of things, and being empty.�
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Alex nodded. He didn’t need any extra explanation. He sorted through the sheets, then grabbed a pen and circled things, crossed out other things.
“For starters, you’re getting too complex. It’s a song, not a novel. Just work with one thought, one image. You don’t want to load it down.”
I nodded. “But I have so much I want to say.”
“There are other songs. I like this bit about the bear in the snow. That’s a really nice image. Start with that and see what you come up with.”
I grabbed searched for in my bag for more paper but I’d scribbled over every sheet. Alex got out his fancy notebook and tore out a page. He handed it to me and I copied what I’d first written, then added to it. As I wrote, a tune came into my head. I hummed it as I read the lines.
Alex wrote in his notebook. I glanced over. He’d taken down the notes I’d hummed and put them on music pages at the back of the book. I’d forgotten he’d had classical music training, piano lessons and all that. Still, it seemed awfully clever of him. I could read music but I’d not be able to pluck something out of the air and translate it like that.
With some sound added to the words, I found even more lyrics tumbling out of me.
Alex laughed.
“What?”
“I’d forgotten the way you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth when you concentrate on things.”
“Don’t.”
“Ha, you so do.”
I ignored him and got back to writing. Some of it was rough and would need polishing, but I had the basics down. I hummed some more. Alex copied that down too. Then he got out his phone.
“Try that again and I’ll record it.”
He pressed the button and I tried to remember what I’d hummed. When he finished, the barista came over with more coffees for us. I looked up and the cafe had filled with people. When had that happened?
“You’re working so hard, you need this,” the barista said. “On the house.”
“My favourite three words,” I replied. I wondered if I’d look piggy if I ordered more food.
Rock Revenge_Alex's Story Page 6