That was the point I’d never get over. He’d packed up and left the whole mess behind him. No matter what he’d said, that struck me as cowardly. Sure, I’d have been angry with him. People would’ve talked but he should’ve been able to handle that.
Carlie nodded.
“Was I too harsh? I hated Alex for so long. I just wanted to make him pay. God, what I wanted was for Jake to come back. For everything to go back to the way it’d been.”
“And the song?”
“The song was Jake’s. Alex stole it. He stopped me from playing it at the club. Forbid me from playing it. Then he got up and played it himself. That song is Jake’s. It’s the last song he wrote. A love song for someone, who knows who.”
Carlie laughed, not because she found that funny. It was a weird laugh.
“Hon, that song isn’t a love song.”
“What do you mean?”
“The part about emotions running through your veins, the joys, the highs. Everything about that song, it’s a love song to drugs. It sounds all bright and sunny but it’s a dark song. ‘You are going to destroy me but I welcome you into my arms’. What do you think that means?”
I’d never thought about it like that. Of course, when I first played the song, I had no idea Jake was into any of that. He’d just been Jake, my wonderful brother. The words made sense in a whole other way now.
“That still doesn’t excuse Alex.”
“It sure as hell doesn’t. Stealing someone’s song is a low move.”
“It’s the worst.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“What can I do?”
“You could fight Alex, get back the song rights. It might be a messy business though and, as you say, his parents are loaded. They could fight a long, drawn-out legal battle. Or you could talk to Alex. Ask him why he’s playing the song. Get it all out in the open. But first, work out what you want. Do you want him to stop playing it? Do you want the song for yourself?”
She patted my hair again.
“I don’t want it. Not now. How could I get up and play that song, knowing that? I have no idea what I want.”
But I did know what I wanted. I wanted Alex. I’d always wanted Alex. The song had made sense for me because that’s how I felt about him. He’d destroy me but I welcomed him. I’d rather be destroyed by Alex than happy with any other man.
“Be careful,” Carlie said.
I gave her a half smile and finished my beer.
“You should get up there and watch Holden,” I told her.
“Yeah, I really should. Come with me, you aren’t going to help yourself sitting down here, moping in the dark.”
She had a point. I followed her up to the stage. I was in no mood for a concert but then I was no mood for anything except crying out my pain.
Alex
I’d waited three days for the rumours to get around, for people to start talking about how we’d ruined our careers and we’d never play again. Instead, there was nothing. The only mention of the gig was a few people having a laugh about it but no more than that. It was like people didn’t care at all. No one was shocked or outraged.
Then the local music press came out. As soon as the guy dropped the bunch of papers off at the bar, I grabbed one. I thumbed through it, getting newsprint on my hands, looking for a review of the gig.
I found it, with a big photo of Holden King. Most of the review talked about Holden and predictions for his new album. Zero got mentioned as ‘a band to watch’, a few comments about our sound, then a note about a spectacular end to the performance. Dee’s band got called raw and powerful.
That was it? A spectacular end? That’s all they had to say. I felt like I’d been given a free pass. I mean, we did pay a decent amount for adverting for Trouble so maybe they’d been swayed in their opinion by that. The music press wasn’t the finest example of objective journalism in the world. Still, the less people reading about me being tackled to the ground, the better.
The world wasn’t going to end. Everything went on as before.