Page 23 of The Deviation
“You should keep growing,” Ned continues, his voice breaking. “You always were a great band, and you’ll still be great after I’m gone.”
As quickly as it rose, my new-found hope goes into free fall, like a bird whose clipped wings are only discovered in the instant before it hits the ground.
The world contracts, snapping back into place against my skin. I try to breathe, but the air is gone. I’m suffocating. Whatever panic has Ned in its grip reaches out to take me, too. As hard as he needs to disappear, I’m just as desperate to break free. “What in the ever-living fuck are you talking about?” My voice is hoarse, my throat closed tight. “Are you seriously threatening to quit on us? Now?”
“It’s not a threat. I don’t want to leave, but you’ve all worked so hard to get to this point and you shouldn’t stop now. You deserve every success coming to you.” Regret leaks out through his voice, and he stops to clear his throat before delivering the final blow. “But you’ll have to do it without me.”
All the frustration building inside me ruptures in a fury of adrenaline. “That’s bull and you know it.” I’m yelling. I don’t want to be yelling, but the words are vomiting out of me and I have no idea how to stop. “You and I write the music together, Ned. Gavin and Oz finish what we start. That’s the way it works. That’s why it works. Because the four of us, together, work. None of us is expendable. You can’t just be replaced.”
Of all the bands I’ve put together over the years, Fifth Circle is the only one that’s felt this solid. Me, Ned, Gavin, and Oz. We’re a complete unit. The past two years have been a revelation formy music. Ned has told me he feels the same way. How can he throw it all away, after I’ve fought so hard to keep it together?
Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I force myself to walk away. The anguish inside me pushes at my skin. I can’t breathe. I need to get rid of it before I choke. Gavin’s van is in front of me and I lash out, punching the side panel as hard as I can. Pain reverberates through my fist and up my arm. That’s a dumb arse thing for a guitarist to do.
“Whoa, Johnny.” Gavin closes in, putting himself between me and his van. “Settle down. We’ll sort this out.”
“I can’t lose the band, Gav,” I say in a low voice, my body trembling. “This is all I have. I can’t lose it. I’ll go crazy.”
“You won’t lose it, and neither will I,” Gavin insists, one hand on my back. “But you know shit like this isn’t going to help.”
Nodding, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few deep breaths. I’ve never been the kind of man who loses control and throws punches when I don’t get my way. I’m the level-headed type, doing right by the people I love and not making a fuss. It hasn’t always been fun, but at least I knew who I was. Right now, I barely recognise myself.
Looking up, I see the dent I’ve put into the side panel of Gavin’s van and groan aloud. “Sorry about your van. I’ll get it fixed.”
He snorts a laugh. “Yeah, you will, but first things first.” He gestures back to where Ned and Oz are talking.
I heave a sigh and nod. “Okay, let’s figure this out.”
We’ve barely taken a step when Ned backs away from us. “I’m sorry I can’t be the person you need me to be,” he says. “I won’t stand in your way, but I can’t go with you. I just can’t.” He heads for his car, slamming the door closed just as I call out.
I take off at a run, trying to reach him before he leaves, but there’s no chance. His tyres squeal as he pulls out onto the road and drives away.
Everything stops as I stand there in the middle of the driveway. I should have been calmer. I should have taken the time to listen to Ned’s concerns. Maybe I could have said something different, made him see reason. He used to want this—exactly this. Once upon a time, being a musician was all he ever talked about. When I see him on stage, I know how badly he wants to stay there. I don’t understand why he’s so afraid of this.
I don’t understand why we’re losing him.
The shuffled footsteps of Gavin and Oz sound behind me. “Let’s give him some time,” Gavin says. “Call him tomorrow when he’s calmed down a bit. Yeah?”
I nod, unable to call up the motivation to reply.
Oz speaks next. “It’ll work out in the end, one way or the other.”
We say subdued goodbyes before the two men hop into Gavin’s van and drive away. I watch them out of sight before heading for my own car.
When I get home, I slump in a kitchen chair and stare at Calum’s crisp white business card. My thumb strokes back and forth over his name, feeling the edges of the subtle embossing.
For months, I’ve managed to keep the emptiness inside me in check. I’ve been alone a long time now. I’ve gotten used to it. But seeing him tonight, being near him, brought it all surging back to life. The bite of loneliness. The yearning to touch and be touched. I was a fool to think just any man could soothe the ache he created. I don’t want any man. I want him.
Unlocking my phone, I carefully add Calum as a contact. I should stop there, but I don’t.
I send him a text. My home address, with a simpleJat the end.
If he wants me anywhere near as much as I want him, he’ll come.
TWELVE
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CALUM