by Riina Y T
“All right, enough of that. Come here,” I said and stood. I opened my arms wide and beckoned Azariah closer. “Let’s hug it out and then move on. What do you say?”
Azariah groaned and shook his head, chuckling. “Okay, okay.” He stood as well and walked around the table to step into my outstretched arms. With a soft sigh, Azariah slumped against me, and I felt the remaining tension between us melt away.
“You know what?” I tugged Azariah closer. “I think I’m in the mood to write a song. One that will blow everyone’s mind.”
Heavens, it felt fantastic being this near to Azariah again, squeezing his slender body tightly. Unfortunately, I had to let go far too soon. When he took a step back, I caught a whiff of the floral scent that always seemed to linger on him. For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried holding onto the warm buzz I felt under my skin and this glowing feeling that seemed to radiate right from the center of my chest.
What were we supposed to do now? Azariah and I had cleared the air, hadn’t we? I couldn’t wrap my head around what he’d confessed just yet, but now nothing stood between us and writing songs. Except we didn’t have our equipment with us. We’d need instruments and something better than our phones to record a video.
When I opened my eyes, I met Azariah’s, and he tilted his head, asking, “Should we try calling the guys again? I mean, how’re we supposed to make this happen without any instruments?”
Christ, he's fucking beautiful.
Taking another quick moment to admire Azariah, I drank in the sight of his smirking mouth and the cute beauty mark above his upper lip. His nose was long and thin and those intense brown eyes reeled me in like nothing else.
Azariah raised his eyebrows. Eh. Right. Our equipment. It was supposed to get here with Lucy and the crew as we planned on working on some songs, maybe even record a few new demos before our big New Year’s Eve party. If Azariah and I managed to get through the week, we’d see everyone for the party, but how were we going to work on our music? I came here anticipating a loud group of people, endless hours of writing lyrics and recording demos and videos, and topping our trip off with a grand party, welcoming the New Year.
After our calls to Luke, Parker, and Lucy all went to voicemail, we did more investigating and discovered our equipment in one of the cabin storage rooms, my guitar case wrapped with a bright orange bow and a note attached to it, reading “Kill it, bro.—Luke” and another saying, “We’re counting on you!—Parker.”
Idiots. I cursed half-heartedly and reached for the large black case, elated to be holding my uncle’s 1961 Gibson Hummingbird in my hands again. I’d started to feel its absence already.
Music played a huge role in my life practically from day one. My mother used to be an opera singer back in the eighties, and my dad taught music at various colleges throughout his career. I grew up playing every instrument imaginable and fell in love with the old, beautiful Hummingbird when I was twelve years old. We’d quickly become inseparable. I’d also continued to play the piano and occasionally the flute—yup, the flute!—but it hadn’t gotten a thorough workout in a long time.
Luke Leroy, my best friend and neighbor, and I formed our first official band after both turning fifteen earlier that summer. Luke had always been a drummer boy—the drumsticks were like an extension of his hands. Together, with two other kids from our high school, our band Watermelon Attack! landed us a few gigs at private parties, school dances, and even a couple TV shows.
After participating on The X-Factor in 2012, I received multiple proposals from other artists to work on various projects. Turning most of them down because they didn’t offer the creative freedom I wanted, I did a couple of collabs with fantastic YouTube stars on the rise before reaching out to Parker Davis, who I met in the lobby of a record studio in downtown Los Angeles when I dropped off a half-assed demo. With neither of us watching where we were going, Parker had walked right into me, spilling half a cup of latte on me. One thing led to another, and we ended up chatting over fries and chocolate milkshakes.
I couldn’t get the talkative, cheeky Canadian kid, who’d just moved to California with his buddy Azariah—whom I had yet to meet—out of my head. Something told me it’d be worth befriending the two. So, I found Parker on Facebook and messaged him with an invitation to the apartment on Sunset I shared with Luke. His response was immediate, and next thing I knew we’d set up shop on the living room floor. Without wasting any time, the four of us dove right in and made the magic happen. With Azariah’s guitar skills and Parker’s love for bass, the friends from Nova Scotia were the perfect fit for us.
A few days later, Moving Insignia was born. We spent days and nights holed up in our small LA apartment, writing lyrics and messing around with cover songs. In the next weeks, we recorded a lot of rock, punk, and pop covers, as well as a few original works, which we uploaded to our YouTube channel. On our first New Year’s Eve together, the first song Azariah and I had written and produced with our dearest friends got thousands of views overnight. And, as they say, the rest is history.
Back in the Honeymooner, we set up camp on the carpeted cabin floor. A feeling of nostalgia came over me when I took out the acoustic guitar. Cradling the instrument in my arms with Azariah next to me, my heart felt full. The guitar was one of the finest ever made—fantastic sounds—big, and round and full with the deep rumbly bass. I held it a little above the fingerboard, arching my left elbow and with a grin aimed at Azariah, struck a single chord, pure and sonorous, and then quietly, smoothly, and confidently began playing “Slide,” one of my favorite Goo Goo Dolls songs.
With his own guitar resting in his lap, Azariah laughed silently, his face lit with joy. Instead of strumming along, he simply sat there, cross-legged, and listened to my singing. Like so many times before, we easily lost ourselves to the magic of playing old favorites and creating beautiful tunes together.
Chapter Six
AZARIAH
The sound of a door opening and closing, followed by the creak of stairs pulled me from a satisfying sleep. Opening one eye, I found the other side of the bed we shared empty, the duvet a mess in the center of the mattress. The floral sheets were wrinkled. I reached for Ky’s pillow and tugged it closer, breathing in his scent. He’d taken a shower before we both crashed. I’d always liked his shower gel more than my own.
Rolling onto my stomach, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried holding onto the feeling of lightness that came with sleep. I thought I could recall fragments of a particularly nice dream but failed to make sense of it. I groaned and burrowed my face into the thick pillow, the fabric a little scratchy against my cheek. I wasn’t ready to face the day just yet, and who knew what time it was, anyway.
Had yesterday really happened? If I remembered correctly, I’d confessed my jealousy to Ky. I’d also told him I didn’t want to lose him, which was sooo embarrassing.
All along, I feared being transparent—that my feelings for Ky had been visible from the damn moon, but apparently the guy hadn’t had the slightest clue!
Other than accepting my apology, Ky hadn’t told me much, had he? I hadn’t learned anything new. Despite what the note from Luke said, Ky might not see me as anything other than a friend. And even though it would hurt like hell, I had to be okay with whatever happened next.
I was on the edge of falling back to sleep when the door creaked open, and a moment later, the mattress to my left dipped. Bed sheets rustled. Silence followed.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to stare at someone when they’re sleeping?” I murmured against the pillow, and my words came out muffled.
“No.” Ky chuckled. I felt him touch my shoulder. He playfully pushed me. “Since you’re clearly awake, it doesn’t count anyway.”
With a groan, I rolled onto my back, let my head drop to the side, and blinked my eyes open. Ky’s blue-gray gaze was focused on me. Since we’d shared a bed more times than I could count, this shouldn’t be weird. It shouldn’t feel any different
.
Ky gave me a lazy smile, and something shifted. The air lit up with invisible sparks. I swallowed.
“What?” It came out somewhat breathless.
With a straight face, Ky said, “You have a cute nose.”
“What?” This time, I laughed.
“Yeah, I like it.” Ky grinned. He rocked forward, resting his hands on his crossed legs. “And your eyes… they’re beautiful.”
“Jesus, Ky,” I groaned and pulled the covers up to my nose. “You don’t have to do that.”
Ky cocked his head, his brows drawing together in a frown. He said, “Do what?”
“Say nice things to me just because…” I lowered my head. Man, those sheets were ugly, something my aunt would buy. “Because I told you embarrassing stuff about myself. You know?” Ky now was aware of my jealousy over his past conquests, and it made me feel vulnerable. I didn’t know how to not feel embarrassed about it.
Ky looked straight into my eyes. “No, I don’t know,” he said. He had that way of doing so it was both intimidating and captivating. I swallowed, my throat feeling dry from hours of sleep. My heart rate picked up, waking some of those sleepy brain cells.
“I don’t make compliments unless I mean them. I don’t say things that aren’t true,” Ky said. “You should know me better by now.”
“You’re right. That was stupid of me.” I moved to sit, but it was too late, the spell was already broken. I balled my fingers into a fist and watched Ky slip out of bed and wordlessly collect his clothes from the dresser, where he’d left them the night before. Then he walked out of the room, barefoot, dressed in only boxer shorts and a tight white tee.
Dammit! Why could I never do anything right?
I didn’t even know why I said that, and why I couldn’t accept Ky might be interested in me, as well, especially after he knew I was. Wasn’t that what I wanted? Ky had to guess I was crushing hard on him, since apparently I act like a total dickhead when I’m flustered. Only Ky had no way of knowing I was already head over heels, in too deep, and was afraid to mess it all up. Even more so now than before. What a mess!
From the day we met, my crush on Ky had intensified fast. I liked his usual boldness and intelligence. He was warmhearted, fun-loving and always ready to crack a joke. His caring nature so different from mine, and well, he was just a big old goofball. Ky truly had a heart of gold. He called his dog his queen. Could he get any more adorable?
And like a true Leo, Ky had a big heart and a lot of love to give the world. It was something to admire, really. I’d always had a bit of an inferiority complex and suffered from self-hatred all my life. I tended to reject other’s well-meaning offers to help and ended up repaying their effort with rudeness, hurting the people closest to me. Ky had shone some of his light into my life, the light that surrounded him wherever he went. As cheesy as it sounded, he’d lit up my darkened soul. Ky’s friendship helped me to accept the fact that as human beings, we all have shortcomings and weaknesses. With his help, I overcame some of my flaws and, from here on out, planned to make the best of them.
Then there was Ky’s appearance—I’d have to be blind not to be affected by the guy’s looks. He had that sunny California disposition, boy-next-door vibe going on, which was sexier than I had any right to think.
But even if he wasn’t the good-looking man I’d come to rely on, Ky would have won over my heart with his adorkable and uplifting spirit that never failed to rub off on everyone. The first words out of his mouth that day, after Luke had done the introductions, had been, “And just so you know, Ky isn’t short for Kyle or Kyler or anything, so don’t even try to come up with something that rhymes.” A huge, heart-stopping grin had rounded out the cheeky expression that still made my heart race.
I’d been through a few broken relationships and promised myself I wouldn’t spoil the beauty of our friendship. Even if it would slowly kill me. I had an idea now what a loss it would be if I missed out on being loved by someone this incredible. Loving Ky would be a once in a lifetime experience—I was sure of it.
How that was supposed to work I had no idea. Even if we agreed to just go for it, we were still band mates, and that was something I didn’t want to jeopardize. I couldn’t imagine not accompanying Ky’s beautiful singing with my guitar, and sometimes my voice.
I guess we might have to talk it through, properly this time. Like adults. I wish the thought of discussing my feelings, with no way out, didn’t freak me out so much.
Chapter Seven
KY
After getting dressed in the living room, I fixed myself a cup of instant coffee with the tea kettle that came with the place and claimed a spot on the sofa in front of the television. I inhaled the scent of cheap pulverized beans and decided it was better than nothing. I wasn’t a breakfast kinda person, unlike the others, so I was happy enough with what I had. Despite Azariah’s odd behavior this morning, I was in a fantastic mood. We’d ended the night on a high note yesterday; singing together had brought back many memories.
Thinking of waking up next to Azariah made my stomach flop. Being in a band, and especially while touring, we had to be comfortable with falling asleep at any time, place, or situation. I was experienced at waking to strange sights and scents—once with my head stuck under a stranger’s leg; another time with smelly tees thrown over my face. And one time, someone had been hugging my butt like a pillow. But, sharing a space, no matter how crowded or uncomfortable, with Azariah was my favorite of all.
I’d been sitting here for what felt like half an hour, thumbing through my notebook with my ears tuned in to a historical documentary, before I heard movement on the upper floor, then in the kitchen nook around the corner. I turned my head to find Azariah preparing a sandwich with the ingredients we’d discovered last night in the main cabin.
A few minutes later, I got up and headed for the kitchen, ready to join Azariah. I wanted to be closer and watching Azariah eat sounded like the best thing right then. When I saw the apprehensive expression on his face, I faltered. He didn’t appear to be in the mood for a chat. Man, that guy confused the hell out of me.
Standing in front of Azariah, I felt suddenly tongue-tied. What did I say after our conversation earlier? “Good Morning, did you have a good night?” seemed weird.
I settled on an awkward “Hey” and placed my empty cup on the table. Azariah stayed seated and gave me a nod, reaching for his sandwich.
“The instant isn’t so bad,” I told him and waved at the electric kettle in the corner.
Azariah nodded again, chewing. “Okay.” Our eyes met and he added, “I’ll try it later.”
I decided to catch some fresh air and leave Azariah to his thoughts, if that’s what he needed. “Okay,” I said dumbly, then found my leather jacket and pulled in on. A familiar scent clung to the worn material, comforting. “I’m gonna check out the lake; seems like a waste to miss the sunrise.”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be great up here,” Azariah agreed. With a small smile on his lips, he took another bite and chased it down with a gulp of water.
I slid into my brown boots and fastened a scarf around my throat. When I pushed the door open, a gust of chilly air hit me in the face, and I sucked in a deep breath. It was colder than what I was used to, being born in California and all, but I liked feeling the fresh air against my skin.
Leaving the cabin, I walked off toward the sparkling water of the lake, twigs snapping and gravel crunching under my heavy soles. The sun was just rising above the canopy of trees and a beautiful, warm glow bathed the forest floor in soft hues of yellow. Part of me wanted Azariah to follow me so desperately it hurt.
Neither Azariah nor I had talked to our friends since that first time, and after what happened, I didn’t feel particularly like chatting with Luke at the moment, anyway, so it suited me quite well that he hadn’t gotten in touch.
Not long after I’d sat down on a bench near the lake, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned my head when the sound stopped.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” I smiled to myself and scooted toward the center to make enough space for Azariah.
We sat together like that for a while, neither of us speaking. It was comfortable, like the countless hours we spent doing nothing in each other’s company. The air out here was so fresh and clear it was dizzying, and it wasn’t as cold as I’d feared it would be in December. I welcomed it when Azariah slid a little closer though.
Suddenly Azariah snickered. “Do you remember the time when Siri called you “Daddy” in the middle of an interview?”
I groaned and closed my eyes. “I seriously have no idea how that even happened!”
“Or when we took the bus to Santa Monica because you wanted to do something touristy, and before getting onto the bus, you stepped in dog poop and everyone wondered where that awful smell came from?”
I turned to look at Azariah and caught him grinning like a fool. “How could I ever forget?” I said, groaning at the memory.
“When I pointed out it was you who reeked, the bus driver made you get off at the next stop, and you had to clean your shoe on the sidewalk before he allowed you back on. And everyone at the following stop asked why the bus was five minutes late—”
“I nearly died when he told them it was my fault. Everyone was staring at me!”
Azariah laughed, then leaned his head on my shoulder. “You are my best friend, you know that, right?”
“What about Parker?”
“Well, Parker doesn’t count, does he?” Azariah laughed. I knew he was joking; we were both the closest he had to a real family. Knowing he still thought of me as family warmed my heart. Azariah had a place to return to if he ever needed it, and I knew he was thankful for it, but from what he had told me, after his parents and younger brother had died in a fire when he was barely old enough to look after himself, his aunt and uncle hadn’t welcomed him with open arms as they should have. I think they just weren’t the parental sort, which must have been hard on Azariah, because it meant he didn’t have the love and support he’d needed after such a tragic event.