by Keren Hughes
“I—” I pause to swallow around a lump in my throat. “I do, baby.”
“And does he love you?”
“You’d have to ask him that, sweetheart.”
“But I can’t, because he’s not here.”
He might never be here again either.
“All I know is that he says he loves me, and I think he means it.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
“What? No. Baby, I think that’s enough questions for tonight.”
“But why, Mummy?”
“Sometimes people love each other, but they can’t be together.”
“Why?”
“Hardin Flynn, stop asking so many questions and go to sleep,” I reply playfully.
“I just think if you love him, you should tell him.”
“Goodnight, baby. I love you. Sweet dreams,” I say as I kiss his forehead and turn off the bedside lamp.
“Night, Mummy. Love you to the moon and stars.”
“I love you to the moon, the stars and the milky way.”
I close the door quietly and choke back a sob as I go to run myself a bath. As the water fills up, I brush my teeth before stripping out of my clothes and putting them in the hamper. Stepping into the bubbles, I slowly submerge myself. It instantly begins to soothe my aching muscles. If only it could ease my aching heart too.
Why the hell does everything have to be so difficult?
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes. I concentrate on breathing deeply and totally relaxing. I am in need of some ‘me time’.
The glass of rosé I brought in before tucking Hardin in is calling my name. I answer its siren call and sigh in appreciation as the subtle hint of strawberries and cherries hits my taste buds.
Thinking back on what Rhiannon said earlier, I realise she’s right about one thing. Finding somewhere to privately rent would be faster. And better for my bank balance until I get clients.
I rang the estate agent about the studio for rent for the yoga studio and told them I’d take the place, in the hopes of actually securing the house I looked at. Yet another reason why I’m so mad at Brent. I guess I shouldn’t have been so hopeful about the house, but I was, and now I have to find somewhere else to live fast, before my money is wasted on the deposit for the studio.
As I stand and grab my towel, I pull the plug out of the bath and step out. I don’t feel tired enough to sleep, so I pull on my pyjamas and pad downstairs to find my MacBook. I pull up a list of properties to rent in Brookhaven and make a list of phone numbers to ring tomorrow.
I admit defeat, accepting that nothing more can be done about it at this time of night, so I head up to bed. With my mind running through a million different things, I’m not sure how easily sleep will come tonight.
Sliding under the covers, I get myself comfortable and close my eyes. Images of a solid wall of muscle come to haunt me. Memories of how it felt to touch him again, how electric it felt when his hands brushed over my skin, how alive he made me feel … it’s like I was walking around in a daze all the time he was gone.
Am I doing the right thing in trying to move on without him? There isn’t an easy answer, whichever way I look at it.
Chapter Twenty
Brent
I guess now is as good a time as any. Or not. That’s the age-old question—when is the right time to tell people bad news? Well, it’s not bad news for me, but the boys will see it that way, and Gordon will burst a blood vessel or two. Although, I have a feeling he knows something like this is coming, because he’s been nothing but nice to me since I came back from River’s Edge all those weeks ago. He’s been buttering me up for something, I just know it. I guess it’s possible he just realised his mistake, but it’s doubtful. Highly suspicious, actually.
The boys and I are gathered at the studio, having just recorded the last song for the album. As promised when I agreed to it, “The One That Got Away” is a bonus track for iTunes only, so it’s not being released as a single. It’s my last goodbye to the fans, and to the boys really.
I’ve been sitting here nervously wringing my hands, trying to work it into conversation, but it just isn’t happening.
“What do you boys say we open a bottle of the good stuff to celebrate?” Gordon asks with a big cheesy grin.
“Hell yeah,” the boys all chorus together.
“What say you, Brent, my boy?” Gordon asks as he sidles over to me. “Your enthusiasm is noticeably absent.”
“Sorry, Gordo,” I reply with a shrug.
He looks at me in disdain. He hates being called anything except for his full name. Gordo is my way of getting under his skin—in a harmless way, of course.
“I was actually hoping for a glass of the good stuff myself, so sure, let’s go.”
“That’s my boy,” he says as he ruffles my hair, making it messy.
I hate when he does that. I guess it’s his payback.
We pile into the minivan and head for Gordon’s house. Once we arrive, the boys all sit around the poker table in his man cave as they wait for him to pour the whiskey and deal the cards.
“Actually, guys, I, umm … I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Their heads all whip round to me.
“I-it’s, umm …” I scrub a hand over my face and wring my hands nervously in my lap. “Sorry, I’ll start again. The truth is, there’s something I have to do. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and before you ask, yes, I’ve thought this through.”
“Spit it out then, boy,” Gordon says as he looks at me expectantly.
“Well, I, umm … I’m done. It’s been one hell of a journey, but for me it’s come to an end.”
“Stop speaking in riddles, dude. The end of what?” Ash says as he swigs his whiskey.
“This. Us,” I say as I wave my hands around, as though that will help them see what I mean, even though I know it won’t. “My days as lead singer.”
They take a collective breath, and their eyes go as round as saucers.
“You’re stepping down for Ash to step up permanently?” Jude asks.
“If that’s what he wants. But that’s not why I’m doing it. Look, I haven’t explained this the best way, because it’s not an easy task. I’m leaving. Permanently.”
“What?” they all ask in unison.
I say ask, it’s more like they scream at me.
“Your contract isn’t up, son,” Gordon says with a smile, one that says “I’ve got you over a barrel.”
“Do you remember the clause we put in those contracts, Gordon? You know, the one that says we can buy our way out? Well, here,” I say as I hand him a cheque. “This is me buying my freedom. I always knew it would come with a price, but it’s a price I pay willingly.”
“Why are you doing this, Brent?” Jude asks as he comes to stand next to me, pouring himself another whiskey, and me a double.
“Is it because of her?” Ash asks.
“Who? The girl back in the Podunk backwater town?” Gordon chimes in.
“Don’t,” I warn. “This isn’t about her. Well, not entirely. She was the catalyst, yeah, but I realised that it was something I’d been considering for a lot longer than I cared to remember.”
“You’ve been in a funk—for want of a better way of putting it—for a while now. I’ve seen you when you think nobody’s looking. And then Caleigh came into your life and made you realise that you really did want to go back to being a regular guy.”
“Something like that, Ev.”
I can’t help the long sigh that leaves me. I can feel my heart breaking at the thought of not being in the band, not being with my best friends every day. But that’s only a piece of my heart. The majority of it lies with Caleigh, and what little piece I have left to myself is ready to move on from this.
I want peace and quiet, solitude, anonymity. I want the house in Brookhaven. I guess I want the normal life I got a taste of in Caleigh’s hometown, in her arms. The normal life I never got to
have of my own, what with being in the limelight for so long.
“I-I umm … I bought a house.”
My confession silences the room.
“In River’s Edge?” Ev is the first one to speak.
“No, a town a couple of hours away from there, actually.”
“Really? But what about Caleigh?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“Well, I didn’t want to move to such a small town and have her in a constant state of worry that she’d bump into me. But fate laughed at me that day,” I say with a wry chuckle and a slight shrug. “Fate threw her in my path again. It turns out she’s looking for a house in the same town.”
“Of all the places in all the world, Caleigh and you end up thrown in each other’s paths again. It might be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.”
“Tragic how, Ev? He gets to woo her all over again,” Ash jumps in.
“He’s trying to get over her, and this ain’t gonna help,” Jude says before I can.
“Jude’s right. I’m trying to move on, but then she gets thrown back into my life and it’s crazy. We ended up wanting to buy the same house. I paid over market value because I’m a selfish asshole who didn’t want her to have the house. Then we meet up and end up sleeping together, then she tells me it was a mistake and breaks my heart all over again. So, I’m fucked either way.”
The words just tumble out. I’m unable to stop them, much as I’d like to.
“Oh man, I’m sorry,” Evan says as he comes to stand beside me.
He rests a heavy hand on my shoulder and offers me a small smile.
“Then wouldn’t you be better off here, surrounded by friends?” Gordon asks.
His words would have you believing he cares, but the tone he uses implies otherwise.
“I’ve made up my mind guys. I’m sorry, but it’s settled. I signed the paperwork for the house; the money cleared. It’s mine. All I have to do is pack my stuff and move in. What’s done is done.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us in the lurch—again. Only this time it’s permanent.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Gordon,” Evan says. “But it’s what he wants to do, and I support him in that. Brent is a human being, with feelings, emotions. He needs to be treated as such.” There’s a slight hint of bitterness in his tone.
“So what? We just let him go play happy families or whatever the fuck, and meanwhile we’re a band member down?”
“Shut the fuck up, Gordon, okay? Ash stepped up before and maybe he can do it on a more permanent basis. But the point here is that Brent is a free man. He’s entitled to do whatever pleases him, as are we all. You’ve got your quarter of a million buyout. So, shut the fuck up,” Evan seethes.
It isn’t like him to get so worked up. I’ve only seen him like this less than a handful of times.
“Don’t talk to me like that, Winslow, or you’ll be next.”
“Oh, what, really? You want me to quit the band too? If that’s what you want, Gordon, then just fucking watch me. I don’t know what the hell happened to you, man. You used to be like another father to us. Now you treat us like the money-makers we are. And that’s all we are to you. Money, money, money.”
“Watch your tone, son.”
I watch as the rage bubbles inside both of them. They’re standing and staring at each other, and I’m not sure who will be the first to cave.
“Don’t push me, Gordon.”
The anger rolls off Evan in waves, in a way I’ve never seen. He’s never gone toe to toe with Gordon before.
I mean, sure, we’ve all had our disagreements, reasons to be disgruntled with each other, but never like this.
“Settle down, guys, please,” I implore as I come to stand between them, placing a hand on both their chests. “This won’t get us anywhere. I’m leaving, but that doesn’t mean the band has to fold. Ash, you’re a good frontman. Jude, Evan, you guys are awesome at what you do, and the three of you love being in the spotlight. I’ve fallen out of love with it, but that’s not the end for the three of you.”
“And how do you expect us to spin this to the press?” Gordon asks through gritted teeth.
“Really, Gordon, that’s what bothers you?” Ash asks as he pulls a chair from the table and sits on it backwards. “Do you really want Brent to stay when it no longer makes him happy? Do you want to work him to the bone until there’s nothing of him left?”
There’s a beat or two of deathly silence.
“No. I just … Look,” he sighs. “I just … I wish this wasn’t happening. I don’t want Brent to leave, but you’re right, he deserves to be happy. I just don’t want it to be the end of the band.”
“Then stop pushing us,” Jude says as he stands and paces the room. “The rest of us are staying, aren’t we? Evan? Asher? Any plans to leave?”
“Nope,” Ash says with a grin.
“Not unless Gordon keeps pushing my buttons,” Evan replies coolly.
“I’m sorry, son,” Gordon says as he places a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to … I just … I’m sorry, okay?”
“Fine,” Ev huffs as he pours himself another large drink. “Top up, boys? We should be toasting Brent’s last day and wishing him well on his journey, wherever that may take him,” he says as he holds the crystal decanter in the air.
We all hold our glasses aloft, even Gordon. Evan walks around and tops us all up.
“To Brent, wherever his journey may lead.”
They all repeat the sentiment, bringing a tear to my eye.
“I’m sorry, Brent,” Gordon says as he comes to sit next to me. “I just saw all our hard work coming apart at the seams. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. We okay?”
I nod and take the cigar he hands me. He gives one to the rest of the boys, and we sit smoking cigars and drinking whiskey for the rest of the day.
***
Sure, quarter of a million was a steep buyout price when we first had the clause put in the contracts, but handing that cheque to Gordon, I couldn’t have been surer that it was what I wanted. It’s not like it put too big a dent in my bank balance, and it’s worth every penny if I can forge my own path, have a life free of the fame.
After talking it out all night, we took the private jet this morning and flew out so the boys can see the house. I gave them a tour and even Gordon was impressed. It’s a beautiful place, and they can see why I want to live here quietly.
“This little terrace right here, this was worth every penny you paid for the place,” Ash says as he sits sipping his beer in the bright afternoon sunlight.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s a sun trap. I can see myself sitting out here often.”
I run a hand through my hair as I tilt my chin upwards towards the sun.
“You look so much better as a dirty blond than that nasty brown hair dye, bro,” Jude says from beside me.
“Thanks, I think.”
“Sorry, I mean, I guess it suited you. But it wasn’t you, you know?”
“I know what you mean dude, hence why I went back to my normal colour.”
“Do you have any plans now that you’re retired?” Evan asks, air-quoting the word.
“I don’t know. Renovating this place a little. After that, who knows?”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I realise that I really don’t have any plans for after the band. I never thought that far ahead. It’s not like I need the money, but I don’t like sitting around idly either.
“You could always build your own soundproof studio at the end of the garden. It’s definitely big enough.”
“I’m trying to leave all that behind.”
“I mean for pleasure, not business. You know music is in your blood and you’ll never fully cut it out.”
“I know, Ev, but I don’t need a soundproof studio to tinker with Bess and Jeri-Lynn.”
“True, true. Pass another bottle, dude?”
I hand him a beer and flip the cap off another for myself.
“Yo
u could always develop a green thumb and tend to the roses in this gorgeous garden,” Ash says.
“Screw that. I’m hiring a gardener. You know that any living thing I touch dies.”
“Well, that’s true. I’ve seen you kill off more houseplants than I’ve had hot dinners.”
Everyone laughs, and I can’t help but love the way it feels to have the boys around. I’ll miss them, for sure. The camaraderie we have, the family we’ve built together—I’ll have none of that when I’m here alone.
But everyone has to grow up and fly the nest at some point. Now is my time. It’s not like I’ll never see them again, I just won’t live within walking distance anymore. That really will be weird.
The sun begins to set, and we head inside as a chill begins to settle in the air.
“Everyone for a pizza? Where’s good around here?” Jude asks as we settle in the living room.
“Umm, good question. Haven’t really been around long enough to find out, you know?”
“Then pull up the takeaway app, dude, I’m Hank Marvin over here.”
The boys get rowdy, so I do as I’m told and take their order.
***
Packing my bags feels somewhat bittersweet. My mum and dad were surprised as hell when I told them I’d quit the band, but even more so when I said I was moving away. Of course, my mum was her usual fussy self. She didn’t want me to be alone, she wondered how I’d feel living so far from home, who’d cook and clean … I told her I’d do it all myself. It’s a good job Caleigh taught me to cook a couple of basic staples, as they’ll likely become a large part of my “cooking for myself for the first time” diet.
As for the cleaning, there’ll only be me to tidy up after, so it’s not like it’ll be hard. And I’ve done it since I left home…well, when I’ve been home long enough to need to. The truth is, you don’t have to do much for yourself when you’re crammed into a tour bus with everyone else. But it’s not that big of a deal, even though she made out like it is.
I have boxes labelled for the kitchen, living room, bedroom etc. My clothes are packed into holdalls, and everything is done. The last box has been taped shut, and the boys are on their way to help with the move.
