by Alison Cole
The next morning, I present myself as usual at the studio as we prepare our music for our U.S. tour. Walking in, I grin and wave at Tim and Linny, who are both holding...newspapers! Oh, my God, they know!
My gaze moves from the papers to Tim and Linny's faces. As Laslow walks in, he's holding a copy of a paper as well. Oh, fuck! I echo Marcus' expletive of the night before in my head.
"Johanna. Do you, perhaps, have something you want to tell us?" Tim asks me. His brown eyes are burning with anger.
I hear the door open one more time. I know its Marcus. Two seconds later, he is standing at my side, ready to take the band's anger along with me.
"What the fuck do you two think you were doing? We told you not to get involved with each other! There's a very good reason for that. This band is only as strong as our weakest member. Look at this!" Here, Tim brandishes a wrinkled copy of a well-known rag in England. I see a momentary glimpse of myself in Marcus' arms. Oy, this is bad!
Marcus tries to put his hand around my shoulders.
"OY! Get your hand off her!" shouts Linny. "What've you lot been doing? Shacking up? Snogging? What?"
"I'm here to take my punishment alongside Johanna. I motioned her to the side of that stage. If I had known better, this would never have happened. Don't blame her completely. I'm just as enthusiastic a participant in this," says Marcus.
Tim sighs deeply. "Johanna, we don't know if we're going to kick you out for lying to us or ban Marcus from joining us on tours and here in practices. There's the possibility that, if we ban Marcus, we'll kick Laslow out as well. Like what you've done now? Hmm? Johanna, you're our best group member. How could you do this? Do you realize that this endangers the band? What the bloody hell d'you think you two were doing?" Tim yells.
I want Marcus to take my hand, but at the same time, I realize that'll make things even worse. I simply stand there, taking everything Tim says. I am grateful that Marcus is standing next to me.
Laslow moves to stand with Linny and Tim. His face is dark with anger.
I feel a wave of nausea hit me as I realize just how much I could lose - my career with this band. Music is my life and if I'm let go, my name will be mud in the music world. I know that.
Tim seems to soften just slightly as he looks at me.
"You lot leave. Linny and I are going to talk about this and decide what's going to happen. Go. Now!"
We leave. Laslow is just as devastated. He loves his big brother, but knowing what he knows, he is boiling-mad right now. He takes a sharp right turn and heads to a coffee shop in the middle of the block.
Marcus and I know better than to try and follow him, much less reason with him. We walk to a park bench down the street. If I were to try and drink coffee the way I feel now, the smell would make me horrendously sick. My stomach is churning as if I had contracted a stomach virus. Sitting down, I hold my tummy.
"Sweetheart, it'll be okay," Marcus tries to say.
I sob, trying not to let my stomach lurch. Music is my life, but so is Marcus! I'm falling in love with him - and I think he's falling in love with me!
"Marcus, Tim is a hard-nose about band rules. He runs our band just like a school's band. Very strict. I could be out of the band today!" Swallowing convulsively, I choke back my sobs and my rising nausea.
"No. I'm not a pro like you and the blokes, Johanna, but I can tell talent and quality when I hear it. You are top-drawer." Drawing me into his arms, he cuddles my head on his shoulder. Somehow, this makes me feel better. My stomach settles back into its cavity and my nausea subsides. "I'm serious. They can't fire you - you're the soul of the group. No matter what happens, I want to stay with you. I see Tim coming, so let me know what the group decides," he tells me. He slowly pulls his arm from around me and I begin choking my sobs back once again.
"Johanna, back to the studio. Laslow's on his way. Marcus. You, too. You're just as involved and you need to hear our decision," says Tim.
Oh, my God, this does not sound good! If they try to fire me, I'm going to throw myself on their mercy and tell them that I've fallen in love with Marcus - which our relationship isn't just a bit of snogging. It's serious and I'm committed to him. Yes, that's what I'll do. Now, I wish I'd spoken up sooner!
We make a sorry little procession as we return to the studio. Tim is in front, walking grim-faced. I'm right behind, wiping traitorous tears from my cheeks and fighting stubborn nausea. Laslow is behind me and his face is just as grim as Tim's. Marcus, I'm sure, looks worried and sad. I can't regret this, truth be told. I can't help who I fell in love with. Our beliefs are similar and we treat each other with love and respect. Inside, I make a beeline for my comfy chair. I wince as I hear the studio door bang shut and lock. Marcus is making sure that this stays within the group, bless him!
Chapter 5
I keep going over the band's rules. Tim has said it more than once - "Rules are rules."He's also called me the voice of the band.
"Okay, everyone. What's done is done. We leave on our U.S. tour next weekend - four days. We can't kick anyone out and still have this tour go off. We can't back out of the tour because we're contractually obligated. So, this is what Linny and I have discussed..."
Linny takes over. "Laslow, you've gelled remarkably well with the band. You've learned your stuff in record time and we sound better than ever. Johanna - you're the voice of our band. We need your vocals. We thought about kicking Laslow out, but he's not the one that snogged you, Johanna. It would be unfair to punish him for your actions."
Tim seems to come to life.
"This is what we're going to do. Laslow, Johanna, you're both staying in the group. We're leaving in four days on our U.S. tour. Marcus, you cannot come on the tour. Johanna, which is it? Going on this tour? Or staying back with Marcus?"
Hot tears fall down my raw cheeks. I look up at Marcus and give him a look of abject apology. He understands my look and gives me a slight smile and nods at me to speak - he knows why I'm making the decision I'm making.
"I'll go with you lot. I...I understand why Marcus has to stay back..."
Marcus raises one hand.
"Tim, if you don't mind, I'd like to make one point."
Tim gives Marcus a sharp, curt nod.
"I was talking with Johanna in the park. I told her that she is top-drawer when it comes to singing talent. If your band is to continue as it is right now, she has to stay a member, especially since you're going on your tour in the U.S. I will stay back, but I don't have to like it. I...I care greatly for Johanna."
I look at Marcus - he had the same thought I did! I smile slightly, feeling better.
Tim looks at the two of us in surprise. "Be that as it may, we're not kicking either one of you out. You are vital to our band. Like Linny said, Laslow has gelled very well with us. We're going on our U.S. tour, visiting and performing in each city, then we'll come back home."
I'm relieved at this decision. So much worse could have happened and I know it. Tim cancels practice until the following day. We'll all practice our parts individually at home. Practicing together today would be useless because of the emotions. At home, I am of two emotions. First, I am very excited that our band has become well-known enough that we're popular on the other side of the pond. On the other hand, I'm torn about leaving without Marcus, but I do also understand the band's position. I try to practice, but between the nausea, nervousness, and my crying, it's impossible for me to sing. Instead, I have a lie-down and drink some hot ginger tea. After napping for an hour, I wake feeling more normal and decide to read through my music. It's a sorry substitute, but until I can sing without crying or feeling like I'm about to vomit, it's all I can do. I do wonder why I'm still so nauseated - I mean, the whole issue has been decided. I should be able to face the issue without feeling sick at my stomach, but at dinner, I'm forcing myself to eat some soup when Marcus calls me.
"I'm coming over. We have four days left before you leave," he says.
Instantly, I feel better. I fini
sh my soup and do my dishes, then straighten out before Marcus knocks at my door.
Once he's inside my flat, we sit cuddled together.
"I don't like that I have to stay here on this side of the pond while you perform, but we can talk via messaging, Skype, chat and on the phone," he tells me.
I mull it over for a moment. That's true. While I would love to have him physically with me, I understand that's not going to happen. I sigh deeply. "I know. I'll miss you. Not having you with me as we move from city to city will be hard, but you're right. I'll take my laptop and buy a cell phone that I can use in the States. As soon as I have it, I can send you the number."
In bed, we make slow love. Tonight, there is no roughness. Instead, we caress and kiss each other until we reach our completion together.
Marcus stays at my flat with me every night until Saturday morning. He leaves before Tim arrives to help me take my bags out to his car. Before he left, we made long, slow and lingering love. It's going to have to do until we return to England. I've packed my vibrator, knowing that I'll need to relieve myself frequently. We're going to be gone for four months!
Tim talks excitedly on the way to the studio - we're meeting up with Laslow and Linny there. A shuttle will pick us up and take us to the airport.
"So, do you have everything you need? Passport? Computer, crochet, books, iPod?" he asks me.
Growing excited, I nod.
"I have it all, Tim. I also brought some blank music sheets in case we find some inspiration in the U.S. to write new material," I tell him.
"Good. Brilliant. Johanna, this is going to be an excellent tour! We are going to amaze the Americans and they are going to love our music! Watch for our CD sales to shoot up even more! You'll be able to set aside even more into your old-age account, just you see!"
At this prediction, Linny hoots.
"Old age? Tim, she's a kid! That applies more to you, me and Laslow!"
I giggle. Still, just underneath all the bubbling excitement, I am sad that Marcus couldn't join us. Because I understand why this has to be, I brought more than what Tim listed. I also brought my e-reader, loaded with several new books, as well as several magazines to keep my mind occupied. If I can't be with Marcus, then I'll just stay as busy as I can so I won't miss him as much.
On our first night in the U.S., we arrive in Washington, D.C. I set up my different activities, determined to stay busy and cooperate with Tim, Linny and Laslow. I don't want to see the band broken up by disagreements over my choice of boyfriend, nor do I want to see Laslow or me kicked out. The first few nights are difficult, but bearable. Because of the time difference, Marcus and I have to juggle the times so we don't interfere with each other's sleep. Depending on the cities we're performing in, we could have as few as a six-hour time difference or as much as a nine-hour time difference! At first, we manage fairly well. I feel buoyed by our daily chats. Then, I start to miss him...his presence. I try to hide how I'm feeling emotionally. During practices, I force myself to appear to be "on" and happy that we're on tour. Eventually, however, the pressure begins to wear on me and it becomes harder and harder for me to hid my depression. I just miss Marcus so much! Even during our performances, my sadness starts to show.
One morning, when we are in Atlanta, Georgia, the blokes call me into Tim's room.
"Well then, what's all this?"
"Johanna, we've noticed you seem...depressed. What's it all about?" Tim asks. He wears a look of concern on his face.
"I...I'll try to do better," I promise the guys. I really don't want to admit that I'm missing Marcus so much.
The three of them look at me, each wearing a look of skepticism.
"Okay. Just see that you do," says Linny.
I feign a smile. "I will. It's just an adjustment over here in the U.S. It's hotter here than I anticipated and it's tiring me out," I lie.
"Lie under this blessed air conditioning!" says Laslow with a wide grin.
"I do! Then we go outside and...honestly, boys, I promise, I'll do better," I say. Leaving Tim's room, my smile slides off my face and I trudge back to my room feeling unbearably lonely as I miss Marcus. He's probably finishing his day's writing now. It's something like six hours later for me than it is for him. Back in my room, I gaze at my reflection in my mirror. My eyes are hollow. I smile and it looks...ghastly! So fake! I growl at myself and comb my hair, then brush on some cosmetics so I look like I'm feeling perkier, even if I'm not.
That night, I barely make it through the performance. Back in my dressing room after the concert, tears leak out of my eyes. I start at a firm knock at my door. I'm not looking forward to trying to sleep in my lonely room tonight! I miss him so damn much!
"Go on then," I say, struggling to keep my voice even.
Tim comes in, giving me a deep and searching look. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just tired. I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep," I lie. I stand up, trying to look as though I'm not feeling deadly depressed. A yawn sneaks up on me and I giggle.
"Okay. Just make sure you do sleep. Got that?"
"Yep. I will." Once he leaves, I do the mathematical calculation. If it's eleven-thirty here, it's...five? Five-thirty in England? I grab my things and join the boys so we can get a ride back to our hotel. We leave the next morning for Indianapolis, Indiana. Then, we'll stop in Madison, Wisconsin and St. Paul, Minnesota. Such odd city names! In my room, I connect to Skype and talk to Marcus for several minutes. He looks just as lonely as I feel. It's a very hard job for me not to break down crying. Therefore, I give him our travel itinerary for the next several days. He quickly jots down cities and dates, and then we calculate the time differences for each city.
"Johanna, I'll check online for the time differences and email them to you. You'd better get to sleep. You look...exhausted," he says.
"I am," I tell him. I don't want to admit that, because I miss him so much, I'm feeling so damn depressed. Once we log off, I grab a pillow and hold it against my middle while I bury my face in a second pillow. Only this way do I feel safe, letting loose with my tears. I love him so damn much! I miss him horribly!
Chapter 6
As we hopscotch across the United States, it becomes increasingly difficult for me to hide my feelings. One day, I just can't get out of bed so I can get to our scheduled practice. By now, we're in St. Louis, Missouri. It's a pretty city, but all I see is Marcus' face in front of my eyes as I miss him. Everything reminds me of him. Finally, I'm able to get out of bed two hours late. But only because Tim and Linny are banging on my door and I don't want them irritating other hotel guests.
"Okay, okay, I'm up!" I yell in irritation. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I gasp. "I'll be there in thirty minutes! I...overslept," I lie. I hurry into the shower, then, allowing my hair to stay wet, I tie it back and apply a light coating of makeup to my face. I pick a brightly colored top and jeans, with trainers.
I make it through that night's performance, but only just. I scuttle into my dressing room, not wanting the blokes to see my ravaged face.
I hear one of them knocking on my door.
"Yeah, what is it?" I ask.
"We're going out for a burger and chips. You want to join us?" Laslow asks.
"Sorry. I'm really exhausted. I just want to sleep." Now, my problem isn't being unable to sleep; all I want to do is sleep! I don't know what's going on with me. I'm normally an even-keeled woman, able to handle almost anything.
'Okay. Have one of the guys take you back to the hotel - unless you'd like one of us to go with you."
"I'm fine. I'll just get someone to take me back. All I want to do is read or crochet," I tell Laslow through the closed door.
"Okay. We'll see you in the morning - on time this time!"
I wince. "Okay," I say meekly.
In my room, I fiddle with the alarm clock, vowing to buy one I can operate without reading a small novel of instructions. I think I've got it set for the right time - I'll find out in the morning. After f
iguring the clock out, I connect with Marcus.
"Hey, beautiful! How are you? How'd the concert go?"
"It went well! Really well! I'm actually excited, but I decided to come back to my room so I could chat with you. How was your day?"
"I got quite a bit done - actually, I use work to keep from missing you. I've asked most of my clients to send me as much work as they have available. I should have a banner quarter by the time you come back!"
I choose to look at the bright side and I grin. "That's good! At least, you're setting some good money against those times when you can't find much work. That's what we're doing here - earning a bumload of money - Tim was teasing me the other day, telling me to build up my old-age fund. One of the blokes laughed, saying that I'm a kid and the old-age fund is more their worry."
Marcus laughed. "I can only imagine! So how do your days over there go?" He seems to have a look of worry in his eyes - I'll need to make sure that my face looks normal when I get onto Skype to visit with him. I make a mental note.
"The same as in England, actually. We wake up in our rooms, get ready for our day of practice, and then we leave for the concert venue and perform." No way am I telling him that I couldn't get out of bed for two hours this morning!
What I don't know at this time is that Tim, Linny and Laslow have contacted Marcus, telling him that I'm falling apart out of loneliness for him. His look of worry is something he can't hide, but I think that's because of my physical appearance. After we log off, I roll into bed, crying with misery and sexual longing. I want him here with me!
The next morning, I'm up on time and I get ready for our flight back to Washington, D.C. We're supposed to perform for the President of the United States, Barack Obama, and his wife and two gorgeous daughters. The prospect does excite me, so I grab onto this and hold on for dear life. As we get closer to the nation's capital, I do begin feeling even more excited. Once we land and check into our hotel rooms, we get a ride down to the venue, the Fitzgerald Theatre. At first, I do well during practice. Then, as we're working on the song I composed, I break down. I can't stop - my tears won't stop flowing. I sit down on a chair and try to get a grip on my emotions. I can't. It's useless.
